Report From Rescue Company 1

by BRBrony9


Going Underground

'Engine 25, Mayday, Mayday! Fireponies down! Fireponies down!'

The message crackled out from every radio that was tuned to the on-scene frequency, alerting other fireponies to the emergency. Some of their fellows needed help. It drew concerned glances from those who heard it, not least from Ember Blaze; his brother's company was in trouble. He didn't know who, which fireponies were down, or why, but he did know that Engine 25 had been assigned to a medical call in the subway minutes earlier. A creeping dread slowly filled his heart. Engine 25 had made the initial report, called in the 10-60, the major emergency signal. They must have found out what was wrong, which surely meant they must have gone down underground- which surely meant whoever had done so had been exposed to whatever was affecting the numerous victims. Blaze didn't know if Dawn would have gone in or not, but his first aid training was fresher than that of the other members of the company, and he needed to gain as much experience as he could in as many different types of incidents as possible.

Blaze couldn't focus on that now. He had his own job to do, and it would soon be his turn to go below ground and help others; just like at any fire, except that this time they would not be fighting the roaring inferno, the thick, choking smoke and scalding flame. This time, they would be fighting an invisible enemy, an insidious foe that could be anywhere, or nowhere.



'Shit, shit, shit...!' Striker scrabbled with the medical bag frantically as Dark Flash and Deep Blue rushed over to help. Deep Blue climbed into the cab and got on the radio, sending a message to the dispatcher that they needed EMS at the northeast corner of 42nd St and 8th Avenue for two fireponies down from unknown causes. Unknown, but suspected. Not an absolute guarantee, but everything seemed to indicate one thing. The situation underground, the casualties with no evident cause, and the symptoms both Coppertop and Dawn were displaying- weakness, sweating, involuntary urination, crying, pinpoint pupils- all pointed squarely at nerve agent exposure. There wasn't much else out there that could cause all of those things, excepting the small possibility of a particularly specific and powerful magical spell.

Deep Blue received confirmation that the medics were on their way, but by the time she stepped down from the cab, there weren't two fireponies down. There were three.

Striker was now slumped against the side of the engine as well, sweating and twitching, leaving just the two mares to help them until the medics arrived. Every company in the city carried nerve agent antidote kits, enough to treat the members of the crew in the event of exposure to chemical weapons, or industrial chemicals which might have the same effect on the body. The kits consisted of auto-injectors, a kind of syringe which would inject the drug into the victim. There were two, one containing atropine to keep the heart rate up, and pralidoxime chloride, or 2-PAM Cl, which would counteract the element of the nerve agent which suppressed neurotransmitters, the lifeblood of the nervous system that carried electrical impulses from the brain.

That would result, in short order, in diminished organ function and rapid asphyxiation due to a loss of control over the muscles that inflated and deflated the lungs, or to cardiac arrest due to the same effect on the muscles of the heart. The combination of drugs was designed to overcome the main effects of nerve agents and keep a victim alive until medical care could be administered. The kits had been routinely issued to soldiers and Royal Guard when on deployments for many years, as several of the old foes of Equestria maintained stockpiles of chemical weapons, which were believed to include nerve gases. More recently they had been issued to fireponies in major cities across Equestria in case of potential terror attacks.

Now they were going to be used in action by fireponies for the first time. With their company officer out of action, Deep Blue and Dark Flash grabbed the antidote kits from the medical kit. An officer had to give permission to administer them, because if the drugs were given to a healthy system not affected by nerve agents, they could cause death just as easily as the nerve agent would. Deep Blue got on the radio.

'Engine 25 Chauffeur calling Battalion 9, Mayday!'

'Go ahead, 25 Chauffeur,' Firebrand replied.

'We have three firefighters down with symptoms of organophosphate poisoning after entering the subway, including our officer. We need EMS and permission to administer the antidote kits, K!' she informed him, trying to keep her voice steady, not easy under such stress.

'10-4, 25 Chauffeur. Administer the kits,' Firebrand ordered. There was no doubt in his mind that nerve agents had caused this incident and had poisoned his fireponies. There was nothing else that could have done so, so rapidly and so widespread within the station without being noticed by the passengers, and caused the classic symptoms of a nerve agent. 'EMS are on the way,' the Chief added, reassurance for shaken fireponies who needed guidance. The whole incident needed more guidance, more Chiefs, more direction, because it was too large in scale for Firebrand to be able to direct everything himself. Help was on the way, but immediate action was needed.

Dark Flash and Deep Blue took the antidote kits, flipping the plastic cover from the needles of the autoinjectors. They stabbed them into the flanks of each of their twitching fellows, just at the top of the hind leg where muscle mass was greatest, atropine first, then the pralidoxime chloride. That was all they could do until the paramedics arrived, but luckily it was less than a minute until the ambulance which had already arrived at the scene pulled up beside them and the medics climbed down to help. More ambulances were coming; more fire engines were coming. More resources were coming, but every minute that passed meant less hope for survival for the victims trapped underground.

The medics quickly examined each of the downed fireponies. Rapid application of the antidote kits could save the life of somepony exposed to a big dose of nerve agent, and prevent the onset of more serious symptoms in those who had received less exposure. Coppertop, Striker and Dawn had only been in the subway for a few moments before the Lieutenant realised the danger and ordered them back to the surface, but depending on where in the station the nerve agent had been released, they could have taken a lethal dose easily enough. Concentrations of gas would vary from platform to platform, from end to end, from line to line and even from one side of a pillar to another, depending on the air flow both from the ventilation fans, which Chief Firebrand had ordered shut down, and also the natural flows of fresh air from the surface coming down the stairwells and escalators. In theory, that was why the subway was the ideal place to unleash a nerve agent; lots of ponies, cramped together on trains and crowded platforms, with air flow that could carry the gas, potentially, down the line to the next station to perhaps inflict further casualties, assuming it hadn't dispersed to non-lethal levels by then.

More ambulances were arriving now; there was an EMS station just a few blocks away, and several hospitals within half a mile of the Bus Terminal. One of the Haz-Tac Ambulances, the Hazmat-Tactical units whose crews were trained to enter and operate in contaminated zones, pulled up near to Rescue 1. There were three engines now at the scene as well, including Engine 25 who were now out of action. That was a problem, of course, but there were enough resources coming in to be able to counteract their absence from the operation, at least to begin with. While the rescuers-turned-victims were treated, and Ember Dawn's pinpointed pupils gazed upward at the faces of the paramedics, his brother was suiting up to go into the same atmosphere which had felled him and his fellow fireponies, and at least several dozen civilians.




Engine 44's well trained crew suited up, along with the Squad when it arrived. That gave a total of nine fully-kitted fireponies in Hazmat suits ready to enter the subway station. Division 3, Deputy Chief Misty Morning, had taken command of the incident. Police were blocking the roads and turning traffic down side streets, trying to keep the way open for responding units. There were half a dozen ambulances, dozens of fireponies. But the task they faced was a daunting one. When the Bus Terminal had been alerted to the danger, they had broadcast a message of calm and sounded the fire alarms, but naturally being informed of a major incident in the subway below panicked many, and thousands of commuters and tourists were trying to pile out of the glass doors of the building, compounding efforts to get rescuers inside to help. The same message had been broadcast over the public address systems in the subway, too, in case there was anypony still conscious and able to heed the warning. The Transit Police were trying their best to evacuate Celestia Square station before any of the nerve agent could spread, but it was a complex maze of passageways, ventilation ducts and maintenance corridors, and the gas could seep through any one of them at any time. It may already have been too late, with the police officers desperately trying to evacuate the station already exposed to the deadly invisible cloud. At anything except the very highest doses, it would take a minute or two for symptoms to become evident, as it had with the three downed fireponies.

Ember Blaze knew his brother might be in trouble, might be one of those reported to be down. But he also knew he couldn't focus too much on the thought. If Dawn was fine, then he was fine, and if he wasn't, then he was in the hooves of EMS now, and the antidote kits had been administered. Blaze had to focus on stopping anyone else from becoming affected by the chemical attack.

Together with Grey Spike and Flagstaff, he was guided to the stairway down into the subway, at the northwest corner of 42nd and 8th, the top end of the Bus Terminal and the closest entry point to the command post set up by Misty Morning and Firebrand, on the other side of 42nd Street. The command post had to be kept clear of the Bus Terminal itself, in case the gas should spread upward into the structure. The last thing they needed was for the incident command team to become incapacitated, or worse, in the middle of such a major incident.

Blaze peered out from within his plastic and rubber cocoon. Regular firepony gear was claustrophobic at the best of times, with the restrictive mask and helmet. But being inside a full level A Hazmat suit was a different beast altogether. It was like wearing an old suit of armour from medieval Equestria, when knights would clash on the field of battle with extremely limited visibility through their visors. The perspex window on the front of the suit allowed a decent forward view, but peripheral vision was limited to almost nothing beyond more than a few degrees from centre. Movement was even more restricted, as the cumbersome neoprene rubber suits were not designed for swift coverage of ground or high physical exertion. They were designed for protection, just as the armour of old had been, except that this was not protection against some swinging axe or wayward arrow. This was protection against something so insidious it could not even be seen, something that could infiltrate the body as well as any Changeling could infiltrate a gathering of ponies and remain completely undetected until it was too late to counteract.

Blaze lumbered forward. He had a small detector, a simple piece of paper similar to litmus paper found in science labs which told the pH of a substance. By a similar process, this special paper would change colours depending on which chemical it was exposed to. If it didn't change at all, there was no nerve gas present in the station, which would change what seemed to be a clear-cut situation into one of sheer confusion over what else could have caused the mass casualty incident to unfold so rapidly.

'Alright, entry team 1, listen up!' Chief Misty Morning addressed the Rescue crew who were suited and ready to go. 'You're heading to the southbound platform on the A/C/E Line. Entry Team 2,' she turned to Squad 18, 'you're going to the northbound platform. Recon at this stage. You're the first units in. Confirm the presence of nerve agent if you can. That's your primary goal. Identify the source if you can, but don't move it or touch it if you do. If you find a container or an aerosol or any potential secondary device, mark its location and back the hell out. We wait for Hazmat 1 and the bomb squad. Engine 44, you're entry team 3, in conjunction with Ladder 7, Ladder 21, and Ladder 35, teaming up with EMS Haz-Tac units for victim retrieval. Engine 24 will be the decon engine once you start bringing ponies out. Everypony clear?'

There was a chorus of responses. 'Yes ma'am!' 'Copy Chief!' '10-4 Chief!'

'Alright, let's move move move. Ponies' lives are in your hooves,' she reminded them all. Captain Grey Spike led the way across the now-cleared avenue to the nearest stairwell down to the southbound platform. Engine 25 was parked nearby, and Blaze tried his best not to be distracted by thoughts of his brother, but that was hard when he could see his engine and also numerous medics just beyond it, where they were treating whichever fireponies had suffered the effects of whatever had felled so many civilians. That was what they were there to find out.

Grey Spike led the way down the stairs, which had been secured by other units and police, with no fireponies or medics allowed downstairs unless they were in protective gear. Blaze followed his Captain, careful on the stairs as the overboots of the suit were rather larger than most other hoofwear. Falling while wearing the suit would turn one into something of a turtle, unable to get back up without help, and it also ran the danger of tearing the suit and allowing death to enter. Flagstaff brought up the rear.

At the bottom of the staircase, a small concourse with ticket machines and an information booth sat empty. Grey Spike moved in, scanning ahead with a multi-gas meter in case there were any other contaminants in the air. Each firepony had a strip of the detector paper clipped to the outside of their suits. Blaze checked his religiously every couple of steps as he moved forward. As they approached the turnstiles, Grey Spike stopped and turned back to face him. The strip of detector paper on his suit had turned yellow. Blaze looked down at his own. It had changed colour as well. Yellow. They both looked at Flagstaff as she reached their side. Yellow.

'Rescue 1 to Command?' Grey Spike's voice came over Blaze's radio headset. 'We have confirmation of a G-Type nerve agent in the subway, K.'