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~*~*~
BOOK THREE
~*~*~
What has happened down here
is the wind have changed
Clouds roll in from the north and it started to rain
Rained real hard and rained for a real long time
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline.
The river rose all day, the
river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood, some people got away alright
The river have busted through clear down to Plaquemines
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline.
Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away
Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away.
President Coolidge came down
in a railroad train
With a little fat man with a note-pad in his hand
The president say, "Little fat man isn't it a shame,
What the river has done to this poor farmer's land."
Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away
Louisiana, oh Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away.
"Louisiana 1927"
by Randy Newman
~*~*~
Why does violent
weather like hurricanes occur? It's because of the sea.
Two-thirds of the
Earth's surface is covered by water. Day in and day out, the
seas and oceans absorb the heat of the sun, storing huge amounts
of energy like gigantic batteries. But it doesn't stay there.
The laws of thermodynamics state: When two systems are put
in contact with each other, there will be a net exchange of energy
between them unless or until they are in thermal equilibrium;
that is, they contain the same amount of thermal energy for a
given volume. Usually, the exchange of energy between the
oceans and the atmosphere is in the form of water vapor. Parcels
of air traveling close to the surface take up moisture; and warm,
ascending air expands and cools, releasing moisture or rain during
the condensation.
Thank goodness for
it. For without rain, we would surely die.
However, the oceans
hold so much energy that the rather benign process of water-to-condensation-to-rain
is not sufficient to process all of the stored energy. The remainder
must be released. When conditions are right - when there
is a lack of shearing winds that would normally retard the growth
of storms - the process continues to expand, growing larger and
larger, like a nuclear reaction out of control. The area of the
atmosphere becomes its own miniature weather system, with higher
and higher winds spinning around an area of low pressure. This
is called tropical cyclonic activity, and the storms are called
tropical storms.
The vast depths
of the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans are the birthplace
of these systems. The life-giving waters give off the stored
energy, forming enormous engines of death. The tropical storms
follow the steering currents in the sky, generally east-to-west
with Atlantic and Pacific storms, and south-to-north in the Indian
Ocean. As they move, they feed off the warm waters they travel
over. If those waters are particularly warm, the storms get so
large they are known by new names - hurricanes, cyclones, and
typhoons. The winds spin so fast that the area of lowest pressure
becomes an eye, open to space. Once over land these storms lose
their support system, weakening quickly, and drop their millions
of tons of rain onto the land.
Without oceans man
would perish, for they are the source of weather and rain. However,
man cannot have oceans and not have hurricanes. Thus, the trade-off
between life and death.
~*~*~
Chapter 46
Friday, August 26, 2005
K minus sixty-five hours
Lizzy's eyes went
wide. "What? I thought the storm was heading for Florida!"
She tugged on a robe and turned on the set.
"So did
the weather service until just a couple of minutes ago. They
shifted the expected track from the Florida panhandle to the
Louisiana/Mississippi line. It's a Cat 2 now - winds at about
a hundred, and they expect it to continue to strengthen."
"Oh, no!"
The five o'clock news was announcing the new track for Katrina.
It had indeed shifted almost three hundred miles to the west
since the last advisory. New Orleans was now in the cross-hairs.
"Will, they're just announcing the warning now."
"Good. Lizzy,
DGS is declaring a full emergency. We've got to get what ships
we have in New Orleans out of here, and we have to reroute all
of our other traffic."
The implications
hit Lizzy. "You're not coming to Lafayette."
"I can't,
babe. I've got to see to my people here."
"Mari's wedding…"
she couldn't help mumbling before she got control of herself.
"I understand. You do what you have to."
"I've got
to go. I'll call later. We've got to make some decisions."
"Okay. There
are decisions that have to be made here, too. When will you call?"
"Late -
maybe ten o'clock. I love you."
"I love you,
too."
~*~*~
Chuck Bingley navigated
the Friday rush hour traffic while calling his wife.
"Jane, have
you heard the news? They say Katrina's headed here."
"I just
turned on the TV. When are you getting home?"
"I'm just on
the interstate now. Traffic's not too bad. I should be home at
my regular time."
"What are
we going to do?"
"We'll talk
it over when I get home. Let me go, now. Love ya."
~*~*~
Carrie Buford sat
next to John, who had Trey on his lap, their hands intertwined,
as they watched the hurricane coverage.
"Good lord,
they've already developed the graphics," Buford observed
as the words HURRICANE KATRINA flew across the screen with a
whoosh of sound.
"The local
stations live for this," agreed Carrie. "I swear the
weather boys get a hard-on every time there's a storm in the
Gulf." She glanced at him. "Are they going to call
you up?"
"Oh, yeah.
Just a matter of time."
Right on cue the
phone rang. The two shared a look before Buford deposited his
son into Carrie's arms and answered the call. He spoke in a low
tone, listening more than responding and rang off after a minute.
"Well?"
Carrie blurted.
"A heads-up.
The brass thinks the governor will activate us by noon tomorrow.
Excuse me, honey, but I better warn my officers and NCOs."
Carrie watched as
Buford walked into the kitchen, opening a small directory where
he kept his National Guard contacts. Carrie had a bad feeling
about this.
~*~*~
The Katzes' Shabbat
was interrupted by the news alert about the hurricane. George
and Emma watched the broadcast with concern while Abe sat quietly.
Finally George passed a hand over his face and turned to his
wife. He didn't want to have this conversation and start a repeat
of last year's fiasco, but there wasn't any choice. Emma knew
what was coming, and her look spoke of her unvoiced agreement,
both with her husband's wishes and his aversion to starting the
expected confrontation with Abe. She spoke first.
"Why don't
we have the Shabbat now - they'll be talking about the
storm all night."
George nodded his
agreement, and rose to follow Em into the dinning room.
"When are we
leaving?" asked Abe.
The two stopped
dead in their tracks and turned in unison to Mr. Weinberg.
"We're evacuating,
aren't we?" Abe was standing next to an armchair.
"We haven't
discussed it yet," Emma said, glancing at her husband, "but
it would probably be for the best."
"I agree."
Abe walked into the dinning room, an astonished pair in his wake.
"Abe,"
said George as Abe took his seat, "I appreciate the change
of heart, but…what brought this on?"
Abe turned to his
son-in-law, the fear evident on his face. "Ivan - what it
did to Pensacola. How it tore up those bridges. I've been thinking
about that since last year. Do you know how much one of those
bridge spans weigh? Tons! And water floated them off the supports!
Water!"
"Floated? Concrete
floats?"
"Yes, under
the right conditions. The Escambia Bay Bridge was a low-level
trestle, just like the Causeway and the I-10 Bridge to Slidell.
The spans aren't secured to the pilings by bolts or anything,
because the salt water and spray would corrode them in no time.
The engineers thought the bridges would be safer and last a lot
longer without the invitation to corrosion from metal. They thought
the shear weight of the spans would keep them in place. And they
were right - traffic and winds can't do anything to it. But the
design has two faults."
He pulled his ever-present
pen out of his shirt pocket and sketched on a paper napkin a
cross section of a bridge span. "See how it forms an inverted
U? The bridge was fifteen feet above high tide, but the storm
surge was about twenty. The rising water trapped air under the
spans, just enough to lift the sections a couple of inches. That
was sufficient for the surge and the winds to move the spans
out of alignment before the air escaped. The spans lost what
little buoyancy they had and sank into the bay."
Abe leaned back
with a stricken look. "Almost every bridge and elevated
highway from Florida to Texas is built this way. Solid horizontal
concrete supports without holes for air to escape, and built
as low as possible to save money. The Causeway and the I-10 Bridge
are just like that Pensacola bridge. All of them meet federal
highway standards, but it's a disaster waiting to happen. If
Ivan had hit here, half the entrances to the city would have
been cut off."
"But we've
had storms in the past," Emma pointed out. "Why hasn't
it happened before?"
"Storm surge
wasn't high enough. You get an eighteen-foot surge or more, those
bridges are toast." Abe took a breath. "The levees
here are as good as anywhere in the world, so we can take a hit
by a Cat 3, but if those two bridges are cut, it's going to be
a lot more than three days to get everything okay again. How
can help get here? Assuming the I-55 survives, trucks will be
backed up for miles trying to get in from the west. The levees
in Plaquemines and St. Bernard aren't adequate - they're going
to get hurt if that storm comes anywhere near here. And the coast…"
He shook his head. "If we're out of power for only three
days, we'll be lucky. It could be a week or more. And no power,
no water. That's no fun.
"Why put up
with that? Best to empty the refrigerator and hang out in a motel
in Texas until the dust settles. Besides…" he looked
at George, "it will make Emma happier if we just get the
hell out of here."
Emma leaned down
and kissed her father. "Yes, it will. Thank you, Papa."
She gave George a watery smile as she turned to go into the kitchen.
George shook his
father-in-law's hand. He could see Abe, for all his declarations,
was uncomfortable with the idea of evacuation. But the older
man had let solid science and common sense overcome his dread
of traffic, and the doctor could appreciate that. He patted Abe
on the shoulder, trying to let him know that he knew what his
decision had cost him. With that he moved into the kitchen.
~*~*~
Harmony may have
reigned at the Katz household, but things were different in the
Mid-City home of Kaywanda Johnson. Scott Davis, K's boyfriend,
was trying to convince the two women to consider evacuating,
and Mrs. Johnson was having none of it.
"Miz Johnson,
you really should be planning to get out of here."
The large, overweight
woman shook her head. "No, no. This is my house. I'm not
going anywhere."
"But, there's
a hurricane coming."
"Now look here
- I've been through more storms than I can remember. I remember
Betsy, and I got through that. I ain't leaving so that some hooligans
can break into my house - no sir!"
"K, can't you
get her to see sense?"
Kaywanda was torn.
"Scott, her mind's made up. We'll be okay."
Scott was shocked.
"K - you're not planning to stay, are you!?"
"Scott, I can't
leave my momma!"
"Crap - you're
both crazy!"
"Watch your
mouth!" Mrs. Johnson cried. "You don't talk that way
in my house!"
Scott threw up his
hands. "That's it - I'm done. I'm outta here. I'm not hanging
around in a bowl waiting for a hurricane to come and drown me!
Kaywanda, you can come with me or you can stay. What's it gonna
be?"
Mrs. Johnson crossed
her arms over her enormous chest. "I'm stayin' right here,
and so's my baby girl. You just take off, white boy. We don't
need you, anyhow."
Scott looked at
Kaywanda, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Fine - okay.
I'm gone." He spun on his heel and walked out the front
door. A moment later, Kaywanda followed, catching up with him
on the sidewalk beside his beat-up car.
"Scott! I'm
sorry, but I can't leave Momma. Can't you see that?"
Scott was so furious
he was breathing hard. "All I see is two insane women. I
ain't waiting here for a storm to come and kill me. If you were
smart, you'd come with me."
"Leave Momma?
Are you crazy?"
"Look, if she
wants to die so bad, let her."
"No! I ain't
leaving her, an' that's final!"
Scott stared at
her for a moment, and then with a curse climbed into his car.
"Scott, please
say you understand!"
He shook his head.
"I wish you good luck, Kaywanda. You're gonna need it."
With that, he slammed the car into gear and peeled out.
A tearful Kaywanda
returned to her mother, who was still mumbling. "Smart-ass
Yankee telling me what to do! Baby-girl, you're better
off without him. You need a man, not a coward."
Kaywanda didn't
respond. She only sat on the couch, trying to stem her tears.
~*~*~
Chris Breaux was
just hanging up the phone as the Dashwoods and Lizzy arrived
at the Breaux house.
"Just got off
the phone with Will," he told Mari as he hugged her. "He's
not gonna make it."
Mari kissed his
cheek. "Lizzy's already told me." Chris greeted the
others as they joined the Breaux clan in the den. Eventually,
after all the welcomes and commiserating, everyone was seated
in a rough circle.
"Okay, we've
been thrown a curve ball," Mr. Breaux said. "So, what
do we do?"
Chris turned to
his intended. "Babe, what are you thinking?"
"We're still
going to get married tomorrow, aren't we?" Mari cried without
pause.
"If you want
to," Chris answered. "I'm just worried about the wedding.
With this storm out there, I don't know how many of our friends
are going to be able to attend."
"I don't care
about that! I'm marrying you!"
Chris jerked his
head towards the kitchen. "Excuse us a minute, folks."
The two left the den and closed the door behind them. "Honey,
are you sure? This is your wedding. I just want it to be the
way you want it."
Mari hugged him.
"Chris, all that's important to me is that you and I want
to get married. All the rest is just a party. As long as my mother
and sister are here, I'm satisfied."
Chris kissed the
top of her head. "All right. Let's go tell the others."
They returned to the den and saw his mother on the phone.
"That was the
Bufords," she reported as she hung up. "They think
John's going to be called up, so they're canceling."
"I talked to
Jane earlier. I don't think she and Chuck are coming, either,"
Lizzy added.
"Doesn't matter,"
said Mari. "This gig goes off as scheduled tomorrow."
"The boss has
spoken," grinned Chris. "But, we're going to need a
new best man." He turned to his brother. "Mike, would
you do the honors?"
"Sure,"
Mike Breaux agreed. "Who takes my place and escorts Lizzy?"
It was agreed to
use Chris' uncle, who was acting as an usher. Mr. Breaux checked
his watch. "Well, let's get down to the church for the rehearsal.
Father Gerald's waiting for us. How many cars we taking?"
~*~*~
An all-managers'
meeting was just breaking up at the Jean Laffite Resort &
Casino in Gulfport, planning the orderly evacuation of the guests
and the shutdown of the facility. They were tied into corporate
in Las Vegas via teleconference.
"Any guest
that wants to leave tonight, we don't charge 'em. Got that?"
Edward Denham reminded his people. "We want them to remember
we took good care of them, so they'll want to come back. Tomorrow
we start clearing out the hotel rooms. Standard emergency procedures
for reservations and refunds. The gaming floor remains open until
noon Sunday. Advise all your non-vital employees to evacuate.
I want this place locked up tight by three o'clock Sunday afternoon.
We'll have another meeting at nine tomorrow morning." He
turned to the microphone on the conference table. "Anything
you want to add, Vegas?"
"No, you've
got everything covered, Ed."
"Thanks. That's
all, people. You're dismissed." Denham disconnected the
call to Nevada as the managers filed out of the room. Only John
Waguespack hung back.
Denham glanced up.
"What's up, John?"
"Ed, I thought
I'd volunteer to stay here and monitor the building. You know,
keep an eye on things."
Denham shook his
head. "Not needed, John. Security will have that handled.
They'll man the place until early Monday morning, and then pull
back inland until the storm's over. Thanks for the offer, but
you just get out of here."
"Are you pulling
out?"
"Yeah, the
wife's packing right now. We've got rooms in Atlanta."
"Atlanta's
pretty far away. Wouldn't it be a good idea to have a manager
close by?"
"John, I said
security's got it covered. Look, there's a line between being
gun-ho and being stupid. You just do your job, and then take
care of yourself. We clear?"
"Yes, sir."
Waguespack left the conference room and returned to his office.
Lucy and the rest of the staff were already talking to the acts
booked to play that weekend, canceling their gigs. Waguespack
went into his office, closed the door, and pulled out the corporate
directory to find the number of the VP of Mississippi Operations
at the corporate office. He dialed the Nevada number and introduced
himself.
"Yes, sir,
we met at the last company conference. I'm glad you remember
me… Yes, we've got a storm bearing down on us. That's the
reason I'm calling. I think we need a senior manager on site
along with security… Umm, most of our security people are
good, but you never know… Right. You know how it is…
Well, I'm a Mississippi native - I've been though these things
before. I'd be glad to stay behind… Denham? He's pulling
out - his wife is scared. I'm single, so that's not an issue…
Yeah, the casino will be closed, but my place is a quarter mile
away… Sure, it's safe. It survived Camille… Camille
was a Category 5 storm that hit near here some years ago. I'll
be fine… Yes, sir, I'll keep you advised as things go along.
Thank you for your confidence, sir. Good night."
Waguespack grinned
as he hung up. The idea of staying behind to watch over things
had come to him during the all-managers' meeting. It was dangerous
to go behind Denham's back, but his boss shot him down, and Waguespack
wasn't going to pass up this opportunity to impress the corporate
types. If he pulled this off, he was on the fact track to Las
Vegas.
Damn, Katrina
just might be the best thing that ever happened to me.
~*~*~
K minus sixty-two
hours
Richard Fitzwilliam
closed the trunk of his wife's car. "You have everything,
honey?"
Olivia Fitzwilliam
was just securing their daughter to the car seat. "I'll
gas up north of Hattiesburg, and we'll break up the trip at a
rest stop somewhere in Alabama for a few hours before continuing
to Atlanta." She and Megan were evacuating to her parents
outside of Atlanta. By leaving now - Friday night - they were
certain to avoid the traffic jams, well remembered from Ivan.
Fitz nodded and
waited by the back door of the car until Olivia was finished.
He then leaned in and kissed his daughter. "Be a good girl,
now."
"Can't you
come with us, Daddy?"
"No, sweetie.
Daddy has to protect the city. You have a good time at Grandma
and Grandpa's, and I'll see you real soon. I love you."
He kissed her again and closed the door. He then took his wife
into his arms.
"When do you
report?" she asked.
"Right after
you leave. I'll be at Third District for the duration."
"I wish…oh,
Fitz, I wish you were coming with us."
"Honey, you
know I can't…"
"I know, I
know. Goddammit, I hate your job."
Fitz said nothing;
he only held her close. A couple of breaths later, they shared
a kiss.
"Call me when
you stop, okay?"
"I will."
Fitz thought of
something. "You have the charger for the cell?"
"Right in the
car. I'll plug it in as soon as we leave." Olivia kissed
him again and then got behind the driver's seat.
Fitz stood in the
driveway of his home and watched his family drive away.
~*~*~
K minus sixty
hours
Elizabeth was back
in her hotel room by the time William called her again. She told
him that Chris and Mari were going through with the ceremony
the next day, and they talked about how the quiet rehearsal dinner
went.
"What time
does the wedding end?"
Will asked.
"It starts
at one, so we should be at the reception hall by two-thirty.
Why?"
"Okay -
I can have the jet land at four. Will that be long enough?"
"Jet? What
are you talking about?"
"The DGS
jet. We've got to get it out of here, with Lakefront Airport
being so low. I can have it pick you up at Lafayette Airport
at four o'clock."
"Pick me up?
Where are you going?"
"We're flying
out of the expected strike zone. It'll hole up in Oklahoma City
until we can bring it back."
"You're going
to Oklahoma City?"
"I'm not
- you are. I've got to stay here and manage things."
"I'm not leaving!
I'm staying here with you!"
"Honey,
please. You'll be safer out of here."
"And what about
you?"
"I'm staying
in the city until Sunday. I'll hunker down at Pemberley during
the storm."
"Let me get
this straight. It's too dangerous for me to stay, but it's not
too dangerous for you? That makes no sense!"
"Lizzy,
look - I'll feel better if you're somewhere safe…"
"William, no.
I'm not leaving. Either we both leave, or neither of us does."
"Lizzy,
please, listen to me…"
"No. You've
told me all about Pemberley - how it's built like a tank - it
has a natural gas generator that can run the whole house. All
the satellite equipment there. If it's safe enough for you, it's
safe enough for me."
"Yeah, but…but
what if we got hit by a tornado? The house can't stand up to
that! If something happened to you…"
"Will, don't
you see? What makes you think I would want to be somewhere else
if something happened to you at Pemberley? Do you really think
I would want to live without you?"
There was silence
on the other end.
"Baby, if we
had children, like Jane and Chuck, it would be different. But
it's just you and me. I want to be with you. I need to
be with you. Don't do this; don't cut me out."
There was a pause.
"You're making this real hard, Liz."
"I'm not trying
to be a problem, but I'm not abandoning you, and I'm not going
to let you leave me behind. Besides, I have my work - remember?
EDNO will need me if we get hit. So, there you are. You'll just
have to put me up for the duration."
"All right
- you win."
"Will, this
is NOT about winning or losing. It's about us being a couple,
being a team."
"I DO look
at us as a team…" She
could hear him sigh. "What are you going to do tomorrow?"
"After the
reception, I'll drive to Pemberley. I'll be going against traffic,
so it shouldn't be too bad."
"I'll have
Mrs. Reynolds open up the house for you. She'll be staying with
us."
"Will, it'll
be okay - you'll see."
"Yeah…I
just love you so much, it's scary."
"It's scary
for me, too. We'll get through it together."
"All right.
I better go. I've got to have the flight plan changed, and there's
this call I've got to put in to London at midnight…"
"Okay, honey.
I love you. Don't work too late."
"I'll get
some shut-eye after the call. Talk to you tomorrow."
Lizzy was still
unsettled after she hung up. She understood William's concern,
but he was wrong. She just hoped she handled it properly, that
she didn't offend Will. The old Lizzy would have gotten angry
and stormed about. The new, more mature Elizabeth used reason
instead of emotion, and it seemed to work much better.
As she undressed
for bed, she knew she still had work to do. She had convinced
William she wouldn't be a burden during this emergency. After
she got to Pemberley, she would have to prove it.
~*~*~
Greg Wickham watched
the hurricane coverage with a smile on his face. The governor
had declared a state of emergency and had recommended that people
in the New Orleans area evacuate. Wickham had no intention of
following the governor's advice, but he hoped others did.
Wickham had found
it impossible to rebuild his empire in New Orleans. Other gangs,
large and violent, had a stranglehold on the drug trade. But
this storm might be just the chance he needed to take a few of
them down.
Wickham knew where
several of the gangs stored their product. If a major hurricane
threatened the city, some of the gang members might flee. The
drug caches would be only lightly guarded. If one heavily armed
man was daring and fearless, he could reap a fortune.
He glanced at his
closet. He still had a half-dozen hand grenades from the Columbian
boat so many months before. That kind of firepower should give
him the edge.
Wickham sat back,
tossing a few potato chips into his mouth. If everything went
right, G-Daddy would spread a little chaos in the city in a few
days.
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