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discoveredinalj A Warm Evening on the River
"3.7 to Alpha. We're on the river, approaching Wapping now, over."
"Acknowledged 3.7. Situation?"
"Very smoky, sir."
"I might have worked that out for myself, 3.7! Four pumps and a fireboat attending according to the London Fire Brigade. Can you enter the warehouse and extract Herr Steiner?”
They were on board a small cabin cruiser "borrowed" from its moorings upriver, steered by a pilot from the nearby docks. Right now they were passing the fireboat, its hoses trained on the backlit squares that outlined, in flickering, ominous relief, the warehouse windows and landing stages. Streams of water pumped from the river were hurled against the Victorian brick walls and timber interior. Where the torrent struck a blow the flames were beaten down, only to spring back to life when the fire hose moved on.
Bodie hesitated, looked sideways. Doyle stood beside him, watching, his face an imperturbable mask. Well, if his partner wasn’t yelling blue murder at the boss, chances were... still chancey. “It’ll be warm,” he acknowledged, “but we can do it.”
As though he read the doubt in his agent’s voice, Cowley’s next words were firm. “If possible, Bodie. You know the importance of the information Steiner carries. But no heroics, Bodie. Do only what you can achieve, do you understand?”
“Yes sir. Out.” He hung up the radio handset. “In other words, suicide is out of the question.”
“I’ve got a dentist’s appointment on Thursday,” Doyle said, musingly.
“You’ll keep it.”
The cruiser pulled alongside a part of the dock that was a safe distance from the warehouse. A brief word to the pilot and they were running down an alley between buildings to reach a narrow, cobbled street that led to a square where four fire engines were arrayed facing the warehouse. They slowed to a walk as they approached the firemen who were working the hoses in teams, spraying the building, but there was a small group that appeared to be directing the others, so they headed in that direction. “Where is Steiner?”
“First floor on the far right, this side. One high window only, the room itself opens off a corridor that runs across the building from the stairwell so it may or may not be safe. The description was very specific, only it failed to mention the fire.”
“Was it deliberately lit, do you think?”
Bodie shrugged. “Maybe. But unlikely. He was hiding out, but that was because he would have faced a show trial and prison if he went back home. They’d want him alive for that.”
The Divisional Officer in charge of the operation was unimpressed when presented with Doyle’s CI5 ID.
“I can’t let you lads enter. My men are trained for these conditions, and now we know someone may be alive we’ll …”
“I can read you the fine print if you like, sir.” Doyle countered, “but only CI5 is authorised to secure the person of Herr Steiner, and we cannot allow anyone else to intervene. That includes your men, who I am sure are very good at their jobs.”
There was little time to argue the toss. The D.O. capitulated and agreed that if his men could bring ladders to the building the agents would be able to enter, but only if the flames had been beaten back to a safe distance. The order had already been given to ‘make pumps six’, with the new units due to arrive within minutes which meant the operation would be almost feasible.
Bodie and Doyle were equipped with heavy coats, masks and helmets from the brigade trucks. A ladder truck backed up to the building, and for a time the fire crews trained most of their output onto the first floor. The flames were beaten back, and the all clear given. Bodie, followed by Doyle, raced to the top of the ladder. There was a small platform at the top which allowed them onto the fire escape that ran next to a window. The window itself had exploded in the heat and was easily, if carefully, opened. It gave onto a long corridor, scorched, dank, smelling of soot and chemicals and long-ago cargo, smells that penetrated their masks. Bodie thought fleetingly of tobacco and foreign spices, until the smoky air got past his borrowed defences and made him cough. According to their informant, Steiner was in the first room on the right, and the sooner they found him the better. They walked carefully, charred timbers crunching underfoot, but the flooring seemed sound. At the door he touched the handle first, without opening it, but it was not hot. He entered, knowing Doyle would be right behind him.
The room was practically empty. At first he thought there was a pile of rubbish in the corner, but as his eyes adjusted to the lighting he realised that pieces of packing boxes and jute sacks had been arranged to form a kind of cave.
And in the cave, inadequately protected from the smoke on an old mattress, was Steiner. He was passed out or worse and very still, but Doyle knelt and checked his pulse and breathing before nodding, and despite the equipment that nullified communication, Bodie understood - still alive. He crouched down as well, then lifted Steiner in a fireman’s carry and walked back towards the door, only Doyle got in front of him and motioned him to stop. In the short time they had been inside the room the flames had evidently surged back up from the lower level and the firemen had resumed their counterattack with huge volumes of water. The spray was noisy and constant, and there seemed no way to carry Steiner to the ladder, let alone to remove him safely from the building. Bodie doubted that he could withstand the water’s pressure for long, and Steiner was unconscious and in who knew what state physically.
While Bodie held back, considering how best to protect Steiner, Doyle acted. He flung himself forward, into the path of the high-pressure stream but was immediately knocked off his feet. He slid back along the corridor a little, before rolling to one side out of the water’s path. Then he crawled along the wall until he was under the window. He stood up next to it and at first tried to signal the men on the ground but was forced away from the opening by the water. He tried again, this time throwing himself across the gap, falling again but getting up on the other side, then waiting for the water stream to abate slightly. As soon as it did, he threw his helmet out the window with as much strength as he could muster, then slid down the wall again to the floor. A minute or so later the flow of water stopped. There were calls from the base of the ladder, asking if they were all right and offering assistance.
Doyle waved Bodie through, but Bodie stopped before climbing through the window. He pulled down the mask of his respirator, which had become intolerable to wear.
“You all right?”
Doyle’s chest shook. He was laughing with relief. He removed his own mask. “Be fine… inna minute,” he gasped. “Might need me ribs strapped.”
“I’ve got some Elastoplast at home. That’ll have to do.”
“Might at that. If we get off after we deliver your friend there to the doctors.”
“We’ll just tell Cowley he needs to pay us overtime – that’ll do it.”
Bodie wasn’t sure if Doyle believed him. He wasn’t sure the Cow would take the hint and get some other agents to take over babysitting duties. But it was worth trying. Every single time.
Title: A Smoky Evening on the River
Author: KWS
Slash or Gen: Bodie loves Doyle, OK?
Archive at ProsLib: Yes
Notes: I think my brain is trying to do something about the smoke and haze we’ve been having around these parts. As such it’s more wish fulfillment than realism…
"3.7 to Alpha. We're on the river, approaching Wapping now, over."
"Acknowledged 3.7. Situation?"
"Very smoky, sir."
"I might have worked that out for myself, 3.7! Four pumps and a fireboat attending according to the London Fire Brigade. Can you enter the warehouse and extract Herr Steiner?”
They were on board a small cabin cruiser "borrowed" from its moorings upriver, steered by a pilot from the nearby docks. Right now they were passing the fireboat, its hoses trained on the backlit squares that outlined, in flickering, ominous relief, the warehouse windows and landing stages. Streams of water pumped from the river were hurled against the Victorian brick walls and timber interior. Where the torrent struck a blow the flames were beaten down, only to spring back to life when the fire hose moved on.
Bodie hesitated, looked sideways. Doyle stood beside him, watching, his face an imperturbable mask. Well, if his partner wasn’t yelling blue murder at the boss, chances were... still chancey. “It’ll be warm,” he acknowledged, “but we can do it.”
As though he read the doubt in his agent’s voice, Cowley’s next words were firm. “If possible, Bodie. You know the importance of the information Steiner carries. But no heroics, Bodie. Do only what you can achieve, do you understand?”
“Yes sir. Out.” He hung up the radio handset. “In other words, suicide is out of the question.”
“I’ve got a dentist’s appointment on Thursday,” Doyle said, musingly.
“You’ll keep it.”
The cruiser pulled alongside a part of the dock that was a safe distance from the warehouse. A brief word to the pilot and they were running down an alley between buildings to reach a narrow, cobbled street that led to a square where four fire engines were arrayed facing the warehouse. They slowed to a walk as they approached the firemen who were working the hoses in teams, spraying the building, but there was a small group that appeared to be directing the others, so they headed in that direction. “Where is Steiner?”
“First floor on the far right, this side. One high window only, the room itself opens off a corridor that runs across the building from the stairwell so it may or may not be safe. The description was very specific, only it failed to mention the fire.”
“Was it deliberately lit, do you think?”
Bodie shrugged. “Maybe. But unlikely. He was hiding out, but that was because he would have faced a show trial and prison if he went back home. They’d want him alive for that.”
The Divisional Officer in charge of the operation was unimpressed when presented with Doyle’s CI5 ID.
“I can’t let you lads enter. My men are trained for these conditions, and now we know someone may be alive we’ll …”
“I can read you the fine print if you like, sir.” Doyle countered, “but only CI5 is authorised to secure the person of Herr Steiner, and we cannot allow anyone else to intervene. That includes your men, who I am sure are very good at their jobs.”
There was little time to argue the toss. The D.O. capitulated and agreed that if his men could bring ladders to the building the agents would be able to enter, but only if the flames had been beaten back to a safe distance. The order had already been given to ‘make pumps six’, with the new units due to arrive within minutes which meant the operation would be almost feasible.
Bodie and Doyle were equipped with heavy coats, masks and helmets from the brigade trucks. A ladder truck backed up to the building, and for a time the fire crews trained most of their output onto the first floor. The flames were beaten back, and the all clear given. Bodie, followed by Doyle, raced to the top of the ladder. There was a small platform at the top which allowed them onto the fire escape that ran next to a window. The window itself had exploded in the heat and was easily, if carefully, opened. It gave onto a long corridor, scorched, dank, smelling of soot and chemicals and long-ago cargo, smells that penetrated their masks. Bodie thought fleetingly of tobacco and foreign spices, until the smoky air got past his borrowed defences and made him cough. According to their informant, Steiner was in the first room on the right, and the sooner they found him the better. They walked carefully, charred timbers crunching underfoot, but the flooring seemed sound. At the door he touched the handle first, without opening it, but it was not hot. He entered, knowing Doyle would be right behind him.
The room was practically empty. At first he thought there was a pile of rubbish in the corner, but as his eyes adjusted to the lighting he realised that pieces of packing boxes and jute sacks had been arranged to form a kind of cave.
And in the cave, inadequately protected from the smoke on an old mattress, was Steiner. He was passed out or worse and very still, but Doyle knelt and checked his pulse and breathing before nodding, and despite the equipment that nullified communication, Bodie understood - still alive. He crouched down as well, then lifted Steiner in a fireman’s carry and walked back towards the door, only Doyle got in front of him and motioned him to stop. In the short time they had been inside the room the flames had evidently surged back up from the lower level and the firemen had resumed their counterattack with huge volumes of water. The spray was noisy and constant, and there seemed no way to carry Steiner to the ladder, let alone to remove him safely from the building. Bodie doubted that he could withstand the water’s pressure for long, and Steiner was unconscious and in who knew what state physically.
While Bodie held back, considering how best to protect Steiner, Doyle acted. He flung himself forward, into the path of the high-pressure stream but was immediately knocked off his feet. He slid back along the corridor a little, before rolling to one side out of the water’s path. Then he crawled along the wall until he was under the window. He stood up next to it and at first tried to signal the men on the ground but was forced away from the opening by the water. He tried again, this time throwing himself across the gap, falling again but getting up on the other side, then waiting for the water stream to abate slightly. As soon as it did, he threw his helmet out the window with as much strength as he could muster, then slid down the wall again to the floor. A minute or so later the flow of water stopped. There were calls from the base of the ladder, asking if they were all right and offering assistance.
Doyle waved Bodie through, but Bodie stopped before climbing through the window. He pulled down the mask of his respirator, which had become intolerable to wear.
“You all right?”
Doyle’s chest shook. He was laughing with relief. He removed his own mask. “Be fine… inna minute,” he gasped. “Might need me ribs strapped.”
“I’ve got some Elastoplast at home. That’ll have to do.”
“Might at that. If we get off after we deliver your friend there to the doctors.”
“We’ll just tell Cowley he needs to pay us overtime – that’ll do it.”
Bodie wasn’t sure if Doyle believed him. He wasn’t sure the Cow would take the hint and get some other agents to take over babysitting duties. But it was worth trying. Every single time.
Title: A Smoky Evening on the River
Author: KWS
Slash or Gen: Bodie loves Doyle, OK?
Archive at ProsLib: Yes
Notes: I think my brain is trying to do something about the smoke and haze we’ve been having around these parts. As such it’s more wish fulfillment than realism…
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no subject
Date: 2019-12-21 09:26 am (UTC)Thank you for this, I could really see them in the firemens outfit.
And I keep my fingers crossed that the fire stops soon at your home country.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-21 12:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-21 01:15 pm (UTC)Great (late) breakfast reading - and I love the last line. Every single time - perfect. *g* Thank you!
Ack for all your smoke - I've been keeping half an eye on the RFS site, and it looks frightening even there, so can't imagine it on the ground. Well, I suppose I can from Ash Wednesday in '83, and then living under palls of smoke in the summer in Alaska, but yours seem to have been going on for so long now... Cross all fingers and everything for at least a decent cool change...
no subject
Date: 2019-12-21 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-21 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-22 02:08 am (UTC)Wish fires weren't a factor (unless in a fireplace on a chilly evening) but what a treat! The lads' humour is so lovely. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2019-12-22 09:13 pm (UTC)Thanks for this nice little story and good luck with your own home country troubles!
no subject
Date: 2019-12-24 12:21 am (UTC)Archivist ETA Is the title Warm or Smoky?
no subject
Date: 2019-12-26 05:08 am (UTC)Season's Greetings!
no subject
Date: 2020-01-05 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-12 11:49 pm (UTC)