Report From Rescue Company 1

by BRBrony9

Clipped Wings

Beep-Boop.

'Engine. Rescue. Battalion.'

'Rise and shine, sleepyheads!' somepony called. Ember Blaze scrambled out of his bunk. What was the time? Seven thirty- normally he woke an hour earlier than that whenever he was on an overnight tour at the firehouse. Today, it had been the house alarm that roused him, and he slid straight into his boots, positioned beside his bed, pulling up his turnout gear, pants and then jacket. The bunk room was one floor above the apparatus bay, meaning a pole had been provided for rapid access. He slid down it. Several other members of the Rescue and Engine crews were also tumbling out of their beds, while others were already awake and downstairs preparing breakfast or taking showers.

'Box 0711, West 57th and 11th! Explosion in the area!' came the cry from the housewatch, followed a moment later by, 'Hold it...ok, the ticket just changed. Wait...it changed again...ok, Battalion and Rescue, you're rolling to West 53rd and 12th for an aircraft down in the river. Engine, you're rolling second due to 58th and 11th for an explosion!'

Blaze clambered into the cab of the Rescue. Confused signals were coming from the housewatch printer. Perhaps the data terminal on the rig would explain things better?

Not really. Captain Grey Spike examined it as the bay doors opened. 'Ok boys and girls...uh...says aircraft down but it also says structure fire...but we're going to the river...sounds like somebody fucked up somewhere.'

They rolled out along with the Battalion, followed by the Engine, purportedly heading to a different location.

'Manehattan calling Battalion 9?'

'Battalion 9, go.'

'Alright, we're getting a bunch of calls on this. We're getting an aircraft down in the West River at 53rd Street, and also an aircraft down into a building at 57th and 11th. We're also getting calls for an explosion in the area, for an explosion and fire at 1160 11th Avenue, for a building collapse at 56th and 11th, and for a building collapse at 58th and 11th. You're getting the major technical response. Engine 40, Engine 25, Engine 65, Engine, uh...standby...' The dispatcher cut off, and as soon as she did, another voice came over the air.

'Engine 40 to Manehattan, urgent! Urgent!'

'Go ahead Engine 40.'

'Transmit a 10-60 for this box! Whatever box it is, uh...for the aircraft down. We have...we, uh...we definitely got something here, I dunno if it's a plane or what, but something definitely exploded! Transmit the 10-60, K!'

'10-4, Engine 40...' The dispatcher read out the box and the signal. 'Alright Battalion 9, on the 10-60 you're getting Engine 40, Engine 25, Engine 65, Engine 24, Engine 1, Engine 3, Engine 74 and Engine 8. Ladder 4, Ladder 35, Ladder 24 and Ladder 3. Battalion 8, Battalion 6, Battalion 11 will be your Resource Unit Leader, Battalion 10, Battalion 2. Division 3, Division 6. Squad 18 and Squad 1 with its second piece. Rescue 1, Rescue 4. Ladder 25 and Ladder 21 will be your SOB Support Trucks, Engine 44 will be your Haz-Tech Engine. Ladder 7 will be your HOOF Truck. Rescue and Safety Battalions, Field Comm and Field Comm Battalion, Hazmat 1 and the Hazmat Battalion, Tactical Support Unit 1. Engine 33 will be transporting Collapse Rescue 1, Engine 79 will be transporting Collapse Rescue 3. SOB Compressor, SOB Logistics. Battalion 35 will be your Air Recon Chief. Satellite 1, Mobile Command 1 and RAC 1. Battalion 9, received?'

'Battalion 9, 10-4.'

The list of units assigned on the 10-60 major emergency signal exceeded the entire complement of the majority of smaller departments across the nation. Only the MFD and a few of the other major cities could hope to pour so many resources into a single incident as a default response, and to alert them all so rapidly, without even knowing the specifics of what precisely had happened.

'Manehattan calling Battalion 9?'

'Go ahead, K.'

'Be advised that Princess had the crash box out for Celestia Airport, reporting an aircraft in distress with an engine fire. Unconfirmed at this time if this incident is related or not, K,' the dispatcher informed Chief Firebrand. It seemed likely, extremely likely in fact, but there couldn't be certainty until the identity of the downed aircraft could be confirmed, if indeed there actually was a downed aircraft and not simply a gas or steam explosion.

'Engine 40 to Manehattan!'

'Go ahead, Engine 40.'

'Advise all incoming units, uh...11th Avenue is impassable at 57th Street. Have all units stage at 10th Avenue and 57th for now, unless the Chief wants a different staging area, K!'

'10-4, Engine 40. Battalion 9 received that report?'

'Battalion 9, 10-4,' Firebrand replied. 'Have all first-alarm units coming from north of 57th respond to 59th and 11th, all units coming from the south on the first alarm respond to 55th and 11th. All additional units are to stage at 57th and 10th for now, K.'

'Engine 40 to Manehattan, roll every available ambulance you got, to this position!'

The wail of sirens split the early morning air, deadened, like all sounds, somewhat by the wind and the blowing snow, yet also amplified in strange and unpredictable ways by the sound waves bouncing off of the tall buildings of midtown. Blaze had been awoken by the alarm, not by an explosion, and none of the other members seemed to have heard anything despite the crash site being relatively close to them, but Engine 40 was reporting something had definitely happened.

Rescue 1 swung onto 11th Avenue at 50th Street, aiming to spear north against traffic as advised by Engine 40. There were a few cars coming south at a fair rate, even ignoring the oncoming emergency vehicles as the Engine and Battalion followed them onto the avenue. Up ahead there was not just snow blowing across the road, but also smoke, thick and black and oily.

'Oh boy...yeah, we've got something, that's for sure...' Fairway muttered as he navigated between the few vehicles that were coming the other way, seemingly trying to flee the scene, and with good reason. As they reached 54th Street, they started to see debris in the roadway ahead of them. Trails of fire were dotted here and there, seemingly with no cause, burning freely on the tarmac and concrete. Windows were broken in several buildings, and this was just the periphery of the disaster area. There were also a number of suitcases lying in the road and on the sidewalks, as though Discord had had his chaotic way with the intersection and decided to redecorate with randomness.

'Battalion 9 to Manehattan. Transmit a 10-60 Code 2 and a third alarm for this box,' Firebrand ordered as they surveyed the devastation, even though most of it was obscured by smoke and snow. 'We have a major incident here. We'll try and get you confirmation of the involvement of an aircraft.'

'10-4 Battalion 9.'

Rescue 1 and Engine 25 pulled up at 55th Street. One car was burning up ahead, a trail of flame leading to it from seemingly nowhere, originating in the middle of the street. Blaze, Dawn and the others climbed down from their rigs, looking around in some degree of shock, despite their training.

Through gaps in the swirling smoke, more burning vehicles could be seen. There was clear damage to the top of the building on the southwest corner of the intersection. Fire was burning atop the building on the northwest corner. Ponies were coming through the smoke, bloodstained, soot clinging to their fur, dazed expressions on their faces, stumbling, sobbing. Broken glass littered the street.

The smoke curtain parted, and the fireponies were able to see farther along the avenue. The scene it revealed only got worse. More ponies were standing in the street. Some were lying on the ground. Even farther down, a large image of the Equestrian flag could be seen.

Firebrand peered ahead through the acrid smoke, trying to get a good size-up of the incident. He saw the flag and reached for the radio.

'Battalion 9 to Manehattan?'

'Go ahead Battalion 9.'

'We have a confirmed aircraft down at this location, K. 57th and 11th. Notify EMS we have multiple casualties, potential for large numbers of patients. Have them roll a second MERV and a second MRTU to this box, K.'
'10-4, Battalion 9.'

'Alright!' Firebrand called. 'We have an aircraft down. Looks to be Royal Air Equestria, so let's assume it's carrying passengers and not freight. Engine 25, building on the northwest corner, fire on the roof. Stretch a line and extinguish it. Rescue 1, gear up. I want you to conduct a primary search of the aircraft in conjunction with Ladder 25. You'll go in from the rear, they'll go in from the front, sweep the fuselage if you can get inside it.'

'What if we can't get in, Chief?' Grey Spike questioned.

'If you can't make access, then report back for another assignment,' Firebrand replied, a grim and determined expression on his face. Grey Spike nodded and turned to his fireponies.

'Alright, gear up, masks and hoods, forcible entry tools. Oak Wood, bring an air chisel in case we have to cut through anything. I don't want a saw that might ignite anything.'

Oak Wood scrambled for the chisel, while Blaze grabbed his Hoofigan and axe. The standard tools of a firepony were not designed to break into an aircraft's fuselage, but they could pry apart twisted metal or help to open a door, and even if they couldn't get into the plane, they would be assigned a different task that would no doubt require the tools.

More units were arriving now, responding from all over the neighborhood. Those coming from the south were pulling up alongside the Rescue and Engine 25, giving more personnel and equipment to be used. Clearly, this was a large-scale incident. Ember Dawn and Striker stretched a hose line while Deep Blue hooked the engine up to a hydrant. The building on the northwest corner of the intersection was a four story structure with fire burning on the roof and who knew where else. It seemed clear, in the broadest sense, what had happened; the plane had come in low, scraping the rooftops before striking something and plunging into the street where it had exploded. The extent of the damage it had caused remained to be seen, but it clearly extended over several blocks at a minimum.

'Division 3 to Battalion 9 on the 800Mhz?' Deputy Chief Misty Morning's voice could be heard.

'Battalion 9 to Division 3, go ahead, K,' Firebrand replied over the SUV's radio.

'Alright, so we have an aircraft down there?' Misty Morning asked. 'That's confirmed?'

'10-4, Chief, visual confirmation,' Firebrand replied. 'Make of aircraft unknown but I have visual confirmation that it is a Royal Air Equestria jet.' The large Equestrian flag on the tail had told him that.

'10-4...and this is extending over multiple blocks?' Misty Morning questioned.

'10-4, Chief. We have units at 55th and 11th and there's damage here. I also have Engine 40 at 59th and 11th and they have damage up there, too,' Firebrand explained. 'We have multiple buildings damaged or burning. I ordered a third alarm, do you wanna push it up to a fourth?' he suggested.

'10-4,' Misty Morning replied. 'I'll transmit a fourth alarm. I'll be 10-84 in two minutes. Where's the command post?'

'I'm at 55th and 11th right now, but I suggest you set up your command post at 57th and 10th Avenue and start sectorizing this incident,' Firebrand explained. 'I can act as south sector command, maybe make Battalion 10 north sector command?'

'10-4, Chief. I'll set up my command post at 57th and 10th, you'll be south sector command until we can get another Division on the scene to take over,' Misty Morning ordered. 'Priority one is to evacuate those buildings as best you can, and gain access to the fuselage if there's anything left. Get as many victims out as you can. Priority two, stop those fires from spreading. Is is just buildings burning or do we have jet fuel burning too, K?'

'We have jet fuel burning,' Firebrand replied. 'Multiple spot fires at my location. I'm sending units north now to investigate further. Rescue 1 and Ladder 25 are going to try and gain access to the fuselage from each end of the plane if they can, K.'

'10-4, Battalion 9.' Misty Morning signed off. From her command post, she would oversee the whole operation until the arrival of the Manehattan Borough Commander, the next highest ranking officer, who, given the nature and scale of the incident, would soon find himself handing over command to the Chief of Department, Starfire Storm, who was likely already on her way to the scene.

Ember Blaze pushed on through the smoke with the rest of the Rescue, their masks at the ready. Ponies were stumbling through the street, and the fireponies directed them down to 55th Street, where paramedics would soon be arriving, if they were not there already. It was like walking through a warzone, with the crackling of the flames, the wail of sirens instead of bombs filling their ears, the sobs and cries of the wounded and confused, the bodies on the ground. As they emerged from the veil of smoke, a scene of utmost carnage greeted their eyes.

The tail of the jet airliner sat incongruously intact, resting against the side of a laundry store on the right side of the street. On the left, a row of six-storey brownstone residential buildings, three in total, were bathed in flame, as though somepony had ordered a napalm strike on them. Globs of burning jet fuel dripped down from the facades and burning window frames. One of the building was missing most of its top floor. Across on the right side of the street lay the remains of the fuselage, most of it nestled up against another pair of six-storey dwellings. The walls of the lower two floors had caved in where they had been struck, and most of the aircraft's passenger compartment now sat precariously below the unstable structures, bent and battered but still broadly intact. The nose section had snapped off and now lay in the intersection of 57th and 11th Avenue. The starboard wing had split off at some point and careened into a short strip mall of so called taxpayers, single-storey commercial buildings. There was a laundromat, a bakery, a hoof-and-hornicure store and a grocery store, all of which were ablaze, the ruptured fuel tank of the wing providing a plentiful source of energy for the inferno that was beginning to spread. There were half a dozen cars which had been smashed, overturned or squashed completely. Several were in the roadway, not parked, suggesting they had been occupied when disaster had struck. Ponies, Zebras and Griffons were wandering about listlessly and aimlessly, while others cradled the wounded in their hooves.

'Celestia...' Flagstaff grunted. 'What a mess...'

'Alright, that fuselage looks to be mostly intact,' Grey Spike called.

'I don't think that building is stable, Cap,' Blaze replied. Rivulets of dust were falling from the broken wall of the structure above the fuselage. 'Should we get Ladder 25 to start shoring it up?'

'Negative on that, the Chief told them to prep for entry too,' Grey Spike pointed out, before keying his radio. 'Rescue 1 to Battalion 9?'

'Battalion 9, go.'

'Chief, the fuselage is mostly intact but it's resting partially inside a pair of heavily damaged brownstones. We can try to gain entry but we're gonna need at least one unit for shoring, or else the whole thing might come down on top of us.'

'10-4, Cap,' Firebrand replied. 'I'll relay that message to command, have them direct the Squad and Collapse Rescue to assist, K.'

'10-4, Chief,' Grey Spike signed off and continued his advance. 'Alright, let's check it out, see if we can find a way inside,' he ordered, leading the way. Smoke billowed up from the burning stores to their right, the burning residential buildings to their left, and several ribbons of combusting fuel in the street. At least one car was aflame, either doused in jet fuel or suffering from a punctured gas tank of its own. Blaze followed. The nerve gas attack had been chilling with the seeming calmness of the scene on the station platform, but this was the exact opposite. This was the visceral fear, audible and tangible. It was a horror that could be felt, touched, smelled. The smell of jet fuel, the smell of smoke, the smell of blood.

Snow underhoof impeded movement somewhat, but the streets were not impassable by any means, even with debris and smoke and burning fuel. The Rescue pushed on. They were the only unit in sight, with Engine 25 having been directed into the burning building at the corner of 55th and 11th Avenue, the Chief overseeing operations from the intersection, and smoke blocking the view of Engine 40 and the other companies coming from the north side of the crash site.

The fuselage was nestled into the smashed buildings. The exterior wall had collapsed up to between the second and third floors, with incongruous domestic scenes exposed to the cool winter air, unmade beds, bathtubs still full of water, foal's toys tossed aside in panic. Blaze could only imagine the feelings of fear that the residents must have felt when the sudden roar of the jet filled their ears, followed by their world collapsing around them. There could well be victims trapped inside the building as well as in the aircraft. Given that multiple structures had been affected by the crash, there could be as many casualties on the ground as there were on board. Even with units streaming in to the scene from across the city, it would take precious time before all of the buildings could be searched and cleared and the fire brought under control.

Grey Spike began assessing the stability of the fuselage and the buildings it was resting against. The tail was still intact; unlike the nose, it had not split from the main body of the fuselage, denying them a potentially easy access route. The fuselage was dented, with jagged gashes torn in the metal skin in many places. Some of the windows were cracked or shattered, but the doors appeared to be intact. To make matters worse, the plane was not level. It was partly on its side, leaning to the right, meaning the roof and right side of the fuselage had taken the brunt of the impact with the building, bending and crumpling its structure.

'Looks like the fuselage is holding up the third floor,' Grey Spike grunted. 'That's not good. We need to get inside without shifting it or we might be in a world of hurt.'

'It looks like the nose has broken off, Cap,' Flagstaff pointed with a hoof to where the cockpit and the front third of the jet lay in the next intersection. 'We should be able to get in from the front.'

'Yeah, but the Chief told us to search from the back,' Grey Spike pointed out.

'We can grab a portable ladder and get up to the rear door,' Blaze suggested. 'I dunno if we can open the door without causing it to shift, though.'

'Rescue 1 to Battalion 9?' Grey Spike called.

'Battalion 9, go.'

'The fuselage is on its side but it's in two parts. We can gain access to the rear fuselage through the break. Suggest Rescue 1 and Ladder 25 search the main section, that's the section that's in the collapse zone, and you assign another unit to search the forward section and cockpit, K.'

'10-4, Rescue 1, standby,' Firebrand replied, relaying a message to Misty Morning, who in turn assigned the northern sector commander, Battalion 10, to assign another ladder company to search the front section of the jet. 'Rescue 1, Ladder 25 will back you up. We have Squad 18 and Collapse Rescue 1 coming in to assist. Search the main fuselage, K.'

'Rescue 1, 10-4.' Grey Spike turned to his crew. 'Alright, mask up, fillies and gentlecolts. We're going in.'