Report From Rescue Company 1

by BRBrony9

Radio Gaga

The afternoon came, heralded by an uptick in the wind that blew through the streets of Manehattan. What would normally be a busy and bustling city was reduced to little more than a ghost town, with just an occasional brave pedestrian risking the streets. There were very few vehicles on the roads, mostly city service vehicles such as trucks from the power company and police cruisers. Most ponies seemed to be heeding the warnings from officials about the potential danger of Hurricane Gilda.

Not everypony, however, was quite so attentive. A young daredevil by the name of Silver Streak wanted to provide something dramatic for his internet followers, and had something in mind ever since he heard about the incoming hurricane. There was a radio mast atop a building on East 85th Street, not far from the East River. He didn't know what it was for, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't be damaging it or anything, just climbing up it in the breeze and facing the wrath of Gilda. It was no problem, for his school was suspended for the day anyway, and his mother was not at home- she was a nurse, on call in case of any incident, forced to leave her son at home alone as his father was away on a business trip in Las Pegasus. I'll be good, he promised his mother, only waiting a few minutes after she had left for work at noon to head out. He had looked for somewhere to buy lunch, but almost everything had been closed, shuttered against the weather. He found a deli that was open and grabbed a sandwich, before heading up to East 85th. He had to walk the whole way; the subways were apparently closed, and he found that after buying lunch he no longer had enough money for the few buses that were still running.

Once he reached the building in question, already being pelted with driving rain, Silver Streak had a dilemma. How would he get to the roof? He couldn't fly, he was an earth pony. Maybe wait around for a delivery? That was a little fanciful; surely nopony was going to be delivering anything in the teeth of a hurricane. Then, Celestia's light shone upon him. A miracle! Somepony left the building, shielding their face against the wind, wrapped in a scarf and woolen hat, evidently on some errand. Silver slipped into the lobby, and ascended the stairs. At the top, he found roof access, a door leading out into the storm once again. He took it and saw the radio mast, some 50 feet in height, studded with satellite dishes as well, a multipurpose metal tower. He shimmied up one of the legs of the tower, clambering higher and higher. The wind buffeted him, but he was used to climbing things, though not necessarily in such blustery conditions. But this was special. This was a hurricane, and he had to brave it to get the shots and the video he needed.

Halfway up the tower, his nerve failed him. The wind was too strong; he couldn't go any higher. That would be stupid. This would have to do. He took out his cellphone and began to record a video message, having to shout to be heard over the wind. His followers would love this. They'd call him mad, and maybe they'd be right, but they'd love it anyway.

He found his words drowned out not just by the wind, but by a strange creaking sound. He looked around, pausing his monologue to camera. The tower was swaying, but that was just from the wind. Wasn't it?

Suddenly, with a snap of twisting metal and a groan of inanimate agony, the tower started to tilt, to shift, to fall. Silver Streak screamed, clinging desperately to the crossbeam as the tower gave way in the teeth of the storm, tilting and plunging down.

Beep-Boop.

'Battalion. Rescue.'

'Alright, let's go everypony!' Captain Grey Spike called. The Rescue crew rushed to the rig.

'Box 7570, East 85th between Mareson and Park Avenues. Structural collapse!' Oak Wood called from the housewatch.

The Rescue mounted up and turned out for the run, into the whipping wind and lashing rain. Gilda was getting much closer now, and conditions had deteriorated accordingly. Water was pooling in several spots along the roads they traversed, their wipers working to keep the windshield clear.

'Manehattan to Battalion 9, K?' the radio crackled.

'Battalion 9, go ahead,' Firebrand replied.

'Battalion 9, you are the closest available Chief for box 7570. We have reports of a radio tower or cellphone tower coming down. You're getting the minor technical response. Your assignment is Engine 65, Engine 70, Ladder 21, Ladder 3. Ladder 25 is your SOB Support Truck. Rescue 1, Squad 18, Tactical Support Unit 1. Rescue and Safety Battalions are unavailable, at an incident in Hooflyn, K.'

'Battalion 9, 10-4,' Firebrand replied. His SUV along with the Rescue raced north to Columbine Circle, and then out east toward Mareson Avenue. There, they were able to head north again, and a call came over the radio from Engine 70.

'Engine 70 to Manehattan, have all the units continue in. We have an approximately 40ft radio mast that has come down from the roof of a building...uh, a five story building. It's hanging out across the street, so have PD respond for traffic control and to shut down the street, K.'

'10-4 Engine 70,' the dispatcher replied. The police department would be alerted to close down 85th Street to avoid the possibility of ponies being crushed by falling debris. The Rescue and Battalion 9 continued through the wet streets, before another call came in.

'Engine 70 to Manehattan!'

'Engine 70, K.'

'For Box 7570, notify the Rescue and the Battalion, we have a pony on the collapsed tower. We have a victim on the tower, K.'

The ponies of Rescue 1 shared a glance of concern. A pony on the tower? What the hell would somepony be doing up there in the height of a storm? Maintenance work? Surely the radio company wouldn't be so stupid as to assign a worker on such a task. The rain alone would make the tower slick and slippery, and the wind- well, clearly the wind had been enough to topple it altogether.

Battalion 9 and Rescue 1 turned into the block together, and pulled up to a stop. The radio mast was indeed hanging out across the street, bent and twisted by the fall. None of the tower had torn away entirely, and there was no debris yet on the road, but it looked to be precariously balanced, and there, about halfway along, was a small grey blob that was most definitely not a satellite dish or antenna.

'Alright, Rescue, get your gear!' Firebrand called, exiting his car and placing his white helmet upon his head. 'Set up for a rope rescue. Oak Wood, High Line, get up there and take a closer look. If you can get that pony safely, then grab them and bring them down to the street.'

'I wouldn't try that, Chief,' the Lieutenant of Engine 70 cautioned, grimacing in the face of the rain being whipped toward him. 'The wind is funneling down this street like a fucking tornado. I dunno if it's safe for Pegasi operations, might be too strong for them.'

Firebrand nodded. The wind was indeed howling down 85th Street, between the five, six and seven-story buildings. The kind of tunnel effect created higher windspeeds than would be felt elsewhere, and could be even worse in the canyons of midtown with their high-rises. 'What do you think?' he asked the two Rescue Pegasi. 'Reckon it looks too bad?'

'Maybe, Chief,' Oak Wood replied. 'But we can at least take a look, even if we can't get to him safely.'

'Alright, do it,' Firebrand ordered. 'Cap, take the rest of your crew to the roof. Secure that tower as best you can. I'll get Ladder 25 to join you up there.'

'Got it, Chief.' Grey Spike led the way, and the Rescue crew galloped into the building carrying their ropes and tackles, while Firebrand got on the radio.

'Battalion 9 to Manehattan, K.'

'Go ahead, Battalion 9.'

'At this box we have a confirmed radio mast collapse with one pony trapped. Special call one additional Rescue Company and have a unit deliver Rescue 1's collapse rig. Be advised windspeeds may be reaching unsafe levels for Pegasi operations, K. I'll get back to you with more details.'

'10-4, Battalion 9. Engine 25 will be delivering the collapse rig, and you're getting Rescue 3 as well, K.'

A second Rescue was a drain on the department's specialist resources, but Firebrand could already see that this would be a delicate operation if they couldn't get the pony off of the tower with Pegasi. High Line and Oak Wood flapped up toward the tower, but the wind whipped about them. For technical rescues with no fire or hazmat danger, the Rescue crew dispensed with the bunker gear jackets for mobility, and sometimes with the pants as well if needed. The strong wind buffeted their manes and tails, making them stream out behind them like they were in some kind of fashion commercial. They returned to the street a few moments later.

'It's no good, Chief,' Oak Wood shook his head. 'Can't get close enough. It's a colt, maybe...ten years old? Looks scared shitless, but we can't get close enough to safely grab him. He's not in any immediate danger of falling so far as I can tell, but that tower looks pretty unstable. It could go at any time, especially if this wind keeps gusting.'

'Battalion 9 to Rescue 1, K. Be advised a Pegasi rescue is a no-go due to wind. Secure that tower if you can. Ladder 25 is coming up to assist now. Get me a report on conditions up there.'

'10-4, Chief,' Grey Spike replied. Ember Blaze followed his Captain up the stairs to the roof access door. When the Captain pushed it open, he was almost knocked back down the stairs by the sudden inrush of wind. 'Son of a...' he muttered, bracing himself and forcing the door open again. 'Keep low and let's move,' he ordered. Blaze nodded and followed on, Fairway and Flagstaff bringing up the rear.

The tower had sheared off at the base, either from the force of the wind or perhaps the addition of extra weight to its relatively flimsy frame. Only two of its four legs were still attached to the roof, and they were bent right out of shape. There was imminent danger of the whole thing going crashing down into the street, and while the road had been cleared already, that was of no help to the pony now stranded on the shaky metal structure.

'Tie off those loose legs!' Grey Spike ordered. 'Get them secured to anything sturdy.' Blaze, shielding his eyes against the driving rain, quickly trotted over along with Fairway, each of them tossing a thick rope around each sheared leg of the tower. They played out the line and wrapped the other end around the most sturdy thing available, a thick metal water pipe, which seemed strong at a glance, but which they both knew would probably be totally insufficient to hold the tower if another of the legs gave way.

'It's not gonna hold, Captain,' Breeze pointed out with a raised voice to be heard over the wind. 'We have to get him off of that thing.'

'Pegasi can't get near it,' Grey Spike replied. 'Can't risk sending a pony out onto it. Probably bring the whole thing down right away if we add any more shifting weight to it. Any chance of shoring it with magic?'

'No, Cap,' Flagstaff shook her head. 'It's too big. I can't stabilise something that size. Maybe there's another unicorn who could? You could get the Chief to special call a...'

'No time for that,' Grey Spike replied.

'Can Ladder 21 get its bucket up there?' Fairway questioned, but again received a negative reply. 'Wind's too strong. It's outside the operating conditions for raising a tower ladder,' the Captain pointed out. 'An aerial might do it, but one false move and it might just give the tower the nudge it needs to come down in the street...' He got on the radio. 'Rescue 1 to Command. The tower is secured with ropes for now but it's not going to hold for long. The wind up here is too strong for a tower ladder.'

'10-4, Rescue,' Firebrand replied. Blaze peered over the edge of the parapet wall and could see the Chief down below. Ladder 25 and Tower Ladder 21 were on scene, as well as the Squad, and he could see Engine 25, with his brother aboard, just turning into the block with the collapse unit.

'Rescue 1 to Command, suggest we prep for a rocket gun rescue, K,' Grey Spike added over the channel.

'Command to Rescue 1, 10-4,' Firebrand replied. 'Set it up at your end. Command to Squad 18, get up to the sixth floor of...188 East 85th Street, crack the windows and set up to receive a line.'

The fireponies of the Squad, the well-trained mini-rescue from downtown, headed for the other building opposite. The rocket gun was just that; a gun-type device with an explosive charge that would be used to launch a lifeline rope to a distant point. Originally they were developed to be fired from the shore to ships which had run around in dangerous conditions, so that stranded crew could be pulled to safety by a breeches buoy, a simple canvas sling and life-belt arrangement into which a pony could easily clamber, allowing ponies on the shore to winch them across to safety. Every Rescue Company now carried one, and while they were one of the least used pieces of equipment on board, sometimes, they were vital.

High Line and Oak Wood brought up the rocket gun from the rig and set it up on the street. Somepony down below was calling through a police loudhailer, assuring the colt that help was on the way. Ladder 3 was starting to set up its aerial, positioning it directly below the colt, as high as it could go without making the colt think it was safe to jump down onto it. It was just a precaution in case he fell, and whoever was shouting up at him made sure to repeat several times that the poor foal was not to move, just stay where he was.

The tower rocked and shook in the continuing wind- and this was still hours before the hurricane even made landfall, when conditions would be much worse. The Rescue set up the rocket gun as Squad 18 took position opposite them in the other building, opening the sliding window as far as it would go and then standing well clear. With the gun ready for operation, Grey Spike took up the task of firing it. He aimed for the open window, and after radio checks assured him that everypony was ready, he waited for a relative lull in the wind, squeezed the trigger, and launched the line with a loud bang. The rope played out rapidly, unspooling from the roof behind him, and landed inside the target room. Fireponies rapidly seized on it to make sure it didn't slide back out of the window, and secured it to a pillar inside.

The tower gave a groan and shifted, making everypony stop and stare aghast. But it held, and the colt desperately clung on to the metal. They had to reach him right away. 'Alright, make that rope taut!' Grey Spike ordered, as Blaze and Fairway set up the breeches buoy. One firepony would ride it out into the middle of the street and grab the colt. It was dangerous; there was no theoretical upper windspeed limit on the use of the device, as it had been designed initially to operate in coastal storms where ships had been wrecked in conditions just like this. But it would be a wild ride.

'Everything ready?' Grey Spike asked. 'Alright. Winch me out when I call.' The Captain was set to take the trip himself.

'Cap? Let me go,' Ember Blaze suddenly spoke up. 'Best not to risk the officer, right?' he added, as an excuse for volunteering, but really, he couldn't help but think of young Sulfur Springs, who had visited them on the last shift, and his poor mother, Licorice Swirl, who had been so distraught, yet so thankful afterward. Clearly this foal had got himself into similar difficulties with his hi-jinks, and something about the similarity made Blaze feel he wanted to be the one to make the rescue.

'You sure? Alright then. Mount up,' Grey Spike replied, stepping aside and allowing Blaze to climb into the device.

'Ready to go!' he called, gripping onto the canvas rail. He swung his hind legs out over the edge of the parapet, and felt the wind whip against him. The Rescue crew played out the block and tackle that would move the device, and out he went, into the storm. The wind took him immediately, swinging the breeches buoy wildly as Blaze held on. He was strapped in firmly enough, but it was still unnerving to be buffeted like a leaf. The rope ran alongside the tower where the poor colt held on desperately. With a minute of steady progress, Blaze came alongside him, his face white with fear.

'Hey!' he called, having to shout to be heard. 'My name's Ember Blaze, what's yours?' He had to repeat his question before the colt replied.

'S-silver Streak...'

'Ok Silver, I'm gonna get you down from there, alright?' Blaze informed him, bouncing around next to the tower. 'You don't have to do anything, alright? All you have to do is trust me.'

'Have you done this before?' Silver asked shakily.

'Oh yeah! Plenty of times,' Blaze replied, lying through his teeth. While he had indeed performed a simulated rescue in training, the last time the rocket gun and breeches buoy had been used in actual action was probably before he even joined the department- perhaps even before his dad left. He would have to ask, next time he visited his parents. A glance down at the street made him slightly vertiginous, but it also showed him at least one TV news van was on the scene. He hadn't counted on that; he imagined they would be too busy down at the beach showing the waves, like Camera Obscura had been.

'Now, all you have to do, Silver, is let go when I tell you. Not before, ok? But as soon as I tell you, you have to let go of the tower, and you'll be safe, Blaze explained. 'I know it sounds crazy, but like I said, you have to trust me. Do you trust fireponies, Silver?'

'Yeah...I guess...' the colt replied.

'And do you trust me?' Blaze gave the most convincing smile he could, given that his face was being pelted by wind and driving rain. Surely the colt must be close to suffering from hypothermia by now. He had to get him inside.

'Yeah...' Silver muttered, not having much choice at this point. The tower gave another groan, and Blaze glanced back at the rooftop as his radio crackled.

'Rescue 1 to Rescue 1 Irons. The tower's getting unstable. Better get a move on, K,' Grey Spike informed him.

'Hear that?' Blaze asked Silver. 'The tower's unstable, so I have to get you out, and I have to get you out NOW. If you do as I say I promise you'll be safe.'

'A-alright...' Silver nodded.

'Alright. I'll count one, two, three. On three, I'll grab hold of you and you'll let go when I say let go. Ok Silver?'

'O-ok...'

'Alright then. One...two...' Blaze timed his grab until the wind had dropped and brought him closer to the tower. 'Three!' He reached out with firm hooves and wrapped them around Silver's midriff. 'Let go!' he shouted.

The petrified colt complied, and Blaze gripped him tightly as though it were his own son. The buoy bounced and wobbled from the extra weight, but it was designed to hold the weight of two adult ponies if needed. It didn't stop Silver from whimpering in fear. The Rescue crew winched them rapidly toward the Squad in the other building. 'I got you, buddy. It's ok,' Blaze assured Silver. 'I'm not gonna let go.'

And he didn't. The two ponies were carried to the window, where Silver was taken by two of the Squad Company and passed on to paramedics. The Squad helped Blaze out of the breeches buoy.

'Just when I think I've seen everything, somepony goes and uses the rocket gun,' the Squad's Captain chuckled. 'I think my grandpa used one once...must have been fifty years ago. That's some damn fine heroes work out there.'

Blaze nodded his thanks, and felt himself smiling. It felt good to be a hero.