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Chapter 47
Saturday, August 27, 2005
K minus fifty-three hours
At dawn, the armada
set out.
Offshore of Louisiana
and Texas lie the bulk of the oil and natural gas reserves of
the United States. Thousands of people on hundreds of oil platforms
work day and night to provide the petroleum and gas fueling the
American economic engine. Combined, the two states produced 2.8
million barrels a day, thirty-two percent of domestic production.
The people who labored
to produce this black gold were hard and hard-working. Working
twelve-hour shifts while on a platform seven to fourteen days
at a time as much as one hundred miles from land, they weren't
afraid of the hardships that came with the job. But as massive
as the constructs man created to find and provide the petroleum
under the shale and sandstone beneath the Gulf of Mexico, there
was something that could destroy them. And one of them was churning
off Florida.
At first light,
hundreds of helicopters from Venice, Grand Isle, Intercoastal
City, and other locations in Louisiana took flight to evacuate
the roughnecks, engineers, and roustabouts. Workboats set out
to the platforms closer to shore or in the marshes. The same
types of craft left from ports and heliports in Texas, too, all
laboring to retrieve the most precious equipment the exploration
companies had - their highly trained workers.
Meanwhile, on the
rigs it was "all hands" to secure operations, a procedure
well-known to the workers, as this sort of exercise occurred
every time there was a storm in the Gulf.
Multiple trips by
the boats and copters were needed to get everyone, but there
was no panic. These workers, pilots, and crews were professionals,
and they would not rest until all their brothers and sisters
were safely ashore. By nightfall, the Gulf of Mexico was devoid
of life.
~*~*~
K minus fifty-one
hours
The data streamed
back to the National Hurricane Center in Miami, confirming the
predictions of the computer models. The tropical system named
Katrina had grown in intensity; the sustained winds were now
115 miles per hour, placing the storm in the third category of
the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Scale.
Katrina was officially
a monster.
~*~*~
K minus forty-eight
hours
The President's
emergency declaration the day before authorized the official
agency in charge of natural disasters to ramp up in preparation
to respond. The agency was named the Federal Emergency Management
Agency, or FEMA, created by the Stafford Act, and it was the
most misunderstood organization in the federal government. FEMA,
a part of the Department of Homeland Security, was kept small
on purpose by Congress to save money. There existed only 2,000
permanent employees. The plan was to call on other government
agencies - Coast Guard, USDA, EDA, HUD, SBA, EPA, and others
- to "lend" staffers, as needed, depending on the disaster.
It made sense, on paper. An earthquake would need different experts
than a forest fire or a terrorist attack. It was expected that
the "lent" employees would work cooperatively with
FEMA officials, but there was nothing in the law that gave FEMA
authority over any of those employees.
The law made the
director of FEMA, the Undersecretary of Emergency Preparedness
and Response, a presidential appointee, and the head was Michael
D. Brown, an attorney and politician who had taught at Oklahoma
Central University and had run the International Arabian Horse
Association. His friend and predecessor, Joe Allbaugh, had brought
him into government as his deputy, and when Allbaugh retired
in 2003, President Bush nominated Brown for the undersecretary
position.
At 1000 CDT, an
hour after Plaquemines and St. Charles parishes ordered a mandatory
evacuation, Brown appeared on television to encourage people
in the effected area to leave. He then prepared to leave for
his command post in Baton Rouge, arriving near mid-day Sunday.
~*~*~
Chuck hung up the
phone. "All right, everything's set," he said to his
wife. "You and the kids will stay at Mom's house. Carrie
will join you there Sunday night. Mom's getting the rooms ready
for you."
"Does your
mother know we're bringing Rufus with us?"
Chuck shrugged.
"She should. I told her that I was staying, but everyone
else was headed for Baton Rouge. It doesn't matter," he
reached over and rubbed the Great Dane's ears. "Who can
resist my big boy, huh?" Rufus, of course said nothing,
but simply gazed with adoration at his master.
Jane grimaced. "Your
mother might."
"How could
she? She's got that walking dust mop of a Pekinese. Rufus is
as much a part of our family as Chin Chan is a part of hers.
Besides, he's completely house-broken and very well behaved.
He hardly sheds at all. Tell you what - offer to have her place
professionally cleaned afterwards. That'll take care of it."
"I wish you
were going with us."
Chuck shook his
head. "I've got to stay here and watch the house. If any
of those trees fall, somebody's got to patch things up before
the water damage gets too bad." He hugged her. "I'll
be fine."
"Until the
power goes out."
"So what? It'll
be like camping out. C'mon, let's get the car packed. If you
can get on the road tonight, you can beat all the traffic."
~*~*~
K minus forty-six
hours
Captain John Buford,
dressed in beret and green BDUs, walked out of the office of
the National Guard Armory in Baton Rouge, his orders in his hand.
"Where we going,
sir?" asked the lieutenant of 2nd Platoon.
"Superdome.
We're to assist in security."
"That ain't
bad," remarked another lieutenant. "At least we get
air conditioning."
"You're not
going to be sitting on your ass enjoying it," Buford shot
back. "We'll be patrolling the facility constantly, as long
as there are people in there. The state doesn't want the place
torn up."
"Roger that."
Buford eyed the
troops milling about. "All right, let's get our people loaded
up and get this show on the road." He walked over to his
command Humvee, Sergeant Mack already behind the wheel.
"Here we go
again, sir."
"Yep, it sure
seems that way, Mack," Buford said as he sat down.
Told of their assignment,
Mack asked, "And where's the staging area?"
"Governor's
sending the rest directly to Jackson Barracks."
Mack frowned. "In
the strike zone?"
Buford shrugged.
"Not my call. Let's just worry about our assignment."
"Like in Kabul?"
"Correct, Sergeant."
"Can do, sir."
~*~*~
As 4,000 members
of the Louisiana National Guard moved towards New Orleans, a
sizable number of others were leaving the city. The top brass
of the US Coast Guard could not leave their invaluable helicopters
in the path of the oncoming storm. Saturday found Lt. Commander
Fred Wentworth leading a flight of USCG helos towards the safety
of their staging area in Alexandria, deep in the central part
of the state. Similar flights were leaving the Mississippi Coast,
as well. They would return to conduct search and rescue as soon
as the weather permitted.
Meanwhile, their
comrades assigned to boats and shore-duty were busy securing
the ports and harbors. They were scheduled to pull back the next
day.
~*~*~
The civilians of
the central Gulf Coast - from Morgan City, Louisiana to Panama
City, Florida - had their duties, too. The special sound of an
approaching hurricane arose - of power saws and hammers, of cars
dashing to supermarkets and hardware stores, of cash registers
ringing and credit card readers dispensing receipts.
It was the sounds
of boarding up and preparation. Plywood was cut
and nailed over the windows of houses and businesses. Loose items,
like planting boxes, water hoses, and children's toys were picked
up and stored away lest they become missiles in hundred-plus
mile-per-hour winds. Shoppers bought out the stocks of water,
batteries, bread, and canned meat. Anyone who had lived in this
part of the country for more than five years knew the drill.
For those who were
evacuating and those who were staying in the three-state area,
it was not-quite business as usual. Yes, there had been storms
before. But the forecasters were scared of this one, and that
fear was successfully transmitted to most of the listening area.
Most, but not all.
~*~*~
K minus forty-four
hours
The newly-wedded
Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Breaux left the sanctuary of the church
into the sunny Saturday afternoon just as the clock struck two
o'clock. The small party waved as Chris and Mari climbed into
the waiting limo and then quickly moved to their own cars to
follow to the reception hall, Elizabeth catching a ride with
Mrs. Dashwood. Within a few minutes, Lizzy was posing in the
requisite wedding photographs, William's absence giving her a
twinge of loss.
What followed was
the most downbeat South Louisiana Catholic wedding reception
Lizzy had ever attended. Almost half the guests were no-shows,
choosing to prepare their homes for the coming tempest. Nothing
could get the attendees out of a forced-cheer stupor - not the
bouquet toss that hit Lizzy squarely in the chest while all the
other young women ducked as per Mari's request, not the required
Money Dance, not even the heartfelt toast to the couple from
Mr. Breaux. The threat of the hurricane hung over the crowd like
a persistent fog.
When the time came,
Lizzy accompanied Mari into a back room to change out of her
wedding gown, along with the bride's mother and sister. "What
are you going to do now that your honeymoon's canceled?"
asked Margaret.
"Postponed,
Margaret. We still have our reservations at the hotel in Lafayette
for tonight," Mari said with perfect composure as she shrugged
off her gown. "With the storm in the Gulf, we'll just put
off our cruise until another time." She smiled as she reached
for her going-away dress. "That's why we got the travel
insurance."
"I got in touch
with the cruise line, and we can reschedule," added Mrs.
Dashwood. "I pulled a couple of strings and called in some
favors, so the company won't charge us a rebooking fee."
Mari slipped the
dress over her head. "Even if we wanted to go, our flight
was canceled."
"Are you staying
here?" asked Lizzy as she zipped up Mari's dress.
"Yes. We'll
come back to the Breaux house tomorrow to wait out the storm."
She turned to her mother. "Mom, I wish you would change
your mind and stay. The Breauxes have plenty of room."
"Mari, I've
got to get back to Jackson and prepare the house. We'll be okay
- we're pretty far inland." The Dashwoods had checked out
of the hotel, and were planning to leave Lafayette right after
the reception.
"And you're
driving back to Pemberley?" Mari asked Lizzy.
"Yes. Will
says it's built very strong and the generators will run the whole
place, even the air conditioning."
The ladies engaged
in some lighter chit-chat while Mari refreshed her make-up and
changed her jewelry. Mrs. Dashwood carefully put away her daughter's
dress.
Mari turned to her
friends and family. "All right - group hug!" The four
women embraced. "This is a happy day. Let's not worry about
hurricanes or any of that stuff. Let's everybody drive safely,
okay?"
After they unclenched,
Lizzy asked, "Ready?"
Mari grinned. "The
question is - is Chris ready?"
"Mari!"
her mother scolded.
Mari just waggled
her eyebrows and left the room. Lizzy helped the Dashwoods move
Mari's belongings to one of the Breauxes' cars to return to the
house.
~*~*~
"Hello,"
George Katz said into his cell phone as he sat in his small office
at Tulane Medical Center.
"Hi, honey,
it's Emma. I just wanted you to know I've returned from getting
the last of the stuff Papa and I will need before we head out."
"Good. When
are you leaving?"
"Papa and
I will pack tonight and then get some sleep. We'll leave early
tomorrow morning."
"Is the car
all gassed up?"
He heard a chuckle.
"Yes, and I checked the tires. I had the oil changed
a couple of weeks ago. We'll be fine - don't worry about us.
How's everything at your end?"
"Busy. We sent
off all but the most critical patients. That leaves us about
120. We've got plenty of diesel for the generators, so we'll
be okay if the power goes. Plenty of food and water - kitty litter,
too."
"Kitty litter?"
"Fifteen hundred
pounds of the stuff in case the toilets stop working."
"Ugg!"
"They opened
up the Park Plaza Hotel a couple of blocks away for staff families,
and a bunch of them took advantage of it."
"Do you
want us to change our plans and come downtown?"
"No, don't
do that. I've already got your reservations in Houston - probably
the last ones available - and besides, I'll feel better with
you and Abe over there than right next door."
"All right.
I've got to fix Papa some dinner now. Can I call you later tonight?"
"Please. I
love you, honey."
"I love
you, George. Bye."
George hung up his
phone as a sound caught his attention. A couple of the hospital
guards were walking by armed with shotguns. The sight unnerved
him - he was amazed that they even owned any firearms other than
their usual handguns. But, with the large store of narcotics
and other pharmaceuticals on hand, Tulane Medical Center was
too tempting a target for desperate people who might need to
take advantage of the chaos a hurricane creates. And if HCA,
the large national hospital management company that had owned
eighty percent of the facility since 1995, was known for anything,
it was for being prepared.
He fingered the
green - green for Tulane - wristband the hospital had handed
out to staff and dependants. It was a security measure, he knew,
but couldn't help remember a wisecrack he had overheard as he
was putting it on.
"It's so
they can identify our bodies after the storm."
George was well
aware of the sometimes black humor New Orleanians were well known
for, but this jest hit a bit too close to home. One never knew
what one of those goddamned storms could do.
~*~*~
Buford and his men
walked into the Superdome, carrying their gear. Buford had Mack
round up everyone.
"All right,"
he called out, "you're going to be part of a 550-man security
team. You'll be told where to stash your gear. After that, I
want squads formed up. Study your maps and charts. Start familiarizing
yourself with this place. Get to know it.
"At 0800 sharp
tomorrow, we start letting people in. Everybody gets searched,
and I mean everybody. The only guns in the Dome will be ours.
We have no idea how many are going to show up, but we'll have
plenty of MREs and water - enough for three days. Trucks will
be showing up soon. When they do, I want them unloaded and everything
stowed away in a secure area. Any questions? No? Good.
"Platoon leaders,
take over."
~*~*~
K minus forty-two
hours
Louisiana had learned
its lesson from Ivan the year before. At four p.m. sharp, the
barriers were removed from the interstates and the tolls were
suspended on the Causeway and Crescent City Connection. Contraflow
was put into effect, and all lanes of I-10 in Jefferson became
westbound.
An hour later, Ellie
Elliot watched as Mayor Nagin held a joint new conference with
Governor Blanco. Four hours before, the governor of Alabama had
ordered an evacuation of all low-lying areas near the coast.
Now here was Louisiana doing the same.
Only it wasn't.
The governor made a passionate plea to the citizens to listen
to their local officials and follow the evacuation plan. And
her boss did declare a state of emergency and recommend that
the people of the city leave. But Nagin fell short of ordering
a mandatory evacuation.
Ellie sighed. There
had been discussions in City Hall about this very issue. She
had pressed, with others, the point that the mayor had the authority
under state law to order people out. But the lawyers disagreed,
and the mayor sided with them.
She hoped that the
people took this opportunity to flee. As for herself, she was
going nowhere. She would be serving with the emergency response
team in City Hall. After this news conference, she was going
home to pack what she would need for the next few days. And maybe
get some rest.
For it was certain
she would get little in the days to come.
~*~*~
K minus forty-one
hours
Mari and Chris let
themselves into their hotel room, carrying only an overnight
bag. Chris tossed it onto the dresser before turning to his new
wife.
"Well, here
we are, babe. I'm sorry it wasn't quite what we had planned."
Mari had her arms
wrapped around herself. All day she had maintained a cheerful
demeanor, not wanting anyone to know how disappointed she was.
Now, safely in her hotel room, her façade fell away.
"Chris, I know
I shouldn't let it bother me, but…oh, damn it!" Chris
took her into his arms. "Why does everything happen to us?"
she said into his shoulder. "Our wedding, our reception,
our honeymoon - all ruined!"
Chris knew better
than to try to say anything; he simply held her in silence. Besides,
her feelings weren't very far from his.
"Even my band
couldn't show up. Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn't
God wait a week before screwing us all over?"
Chris just caressed
her hair. Spent, Mari chuckled into his chest.
"You're just
waiting me out, aren't you? Puttin' up with my moaning and groaning
until I'm amenable to you jumping my bones."
"Well…you
are my wife, now. It's kinda in the contract."
"Contract?"
"Yeah. The
bit about 'love, honor and obey.'"
She looked up at
him. "That wasn't in the ceremony."
"Really? Must
have been an oversight. I think it's on the marriage certificate."
She shook her head.
"You guys are all the same. There's only one thing you want."
"Mmm-hmm."
She looked up at
him, her hands cupping his cheeks. "Well, since we're here,
and we've got nothing better to do…" She kissed him
warmly on his lips. Chris returned the kiss with increasing passion.
Finally Mari broke away, but the fire in her eyes wasn't one
of anger any longer. She started undoing the buttons on his shirt.
"C'mon, Cajun-boy.
Let's see what you've got."
"Anytime, Mrs.
Breaux."
~*~*~
Lizzy left the reception
minutes after the Dashwoods and drove her CR-V through the increasingly
heavy Lafayette traffic north towards I-10. It took some time
to get though the intersections near the interstate, as they
were manned and the police were trying to orderly guide the fleeing
residents from points south - Houma, Morgan City, and Pecan Island
- to the evacuation routes. Finally, Lizzy was headed eastward
towards Baton Rouge.
The stream of cars
and trucks headed in the opposite direction was like something
she had never seen before. Thousands of vehicles of all kinds
were crawling bumper-to-bumper, the occasional sheriff's deputy
or state police trooper passing on the shoulder. The line was
endless. She wondered if any of her friends were caught up in
that. She didn't pull out her BlackBerry to find out; not only
would it be a distraction to someone in that horde, the system
was overloaded, anyway.
The only traffic
Lizzy encountered were first responders, the odd trucker making
one last haul, and locals seeking the last bit of plywood for
the windows or bottled water for the house. Within ninety minutes,
she was at the outskirts of Baton Rouge, and she had a decision
to make. Normally, she would drive through the capital and continue
eastward on I-10 until she reached either the Sunshine Bridge
near Donaldsonville or the Veterans Memorial Bridge in Gramercy.
But Baton Rouge was a pain to drive through on ordinary days,
and this day was far from ordinary. Contraflow stopped at Laplace,
but there was no telling what the conditions were on those bridges.
Lizzy exited I-10
just before the bridge into Baton Rouge and headed south on LA
1. The traffic was heavy, and all the intersections were manned,
but she figured slow and steady was the best alternative. Once
she got to Donaldsonville, she was able to take the River Road
- LA 18. Now, unless the road was blocked, nothing would stop
her from reaching Pemberley.
Traffic control
was horrendous at Vacherie - where she had a moment's thought
of turning towards her parent's home in Chackbay - and at the
Gramercy Bridge. It thinned out after that, and soon she was
before the gates of the Darcy home.
Lizzy realized she
didn't have the remote to open the gates. Just as she was reaching
for her cell to call Will, she noticed the keypad/intercom on
a stand next to the driveway. She lowered her window and pressed
the CALL button.
A few moments passed.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Reynolds?
It's Lizzy Boudreaux."
"Oh! Hold
on a second."
The gate swung open
and Lizzy proceeded to the house. It was twilight, but the mansion
was lit and inviting. She saw the housekeeper just outside the
kitchen door as she pulled up.
"How was the
drive from Lafayette, Miss Lizzy?" Mrs. Reynolds asked after
she greeted her.
"It wasn't
too bad, until I got on Highway 1. But you should have seen all
the people headed in the other direction!"
"I know, it's
been all over the TV. Can I help you with your things?"
Between the two
of them, all of Elizabeth's belongings were in the house in quick
order. Refusing anything to eat, she joined Mrs. Reynolds in
the den to watch the hurricane coverage.
Fifteen minutes
later, the phone rang. The women shared a look.
"That will
be Will," Lizzy predicted.
"I'll bet you're
right," Mrs. Reynolds smiled as she answered the phone.
"Darcy residence. Oh! Mr. Will!" She winked at Lizzy.
"Yes, sir, she's right here. Shall I put her on? Hold on,
please…" She tried to hide a smirk as she handed the
receiver to Lizzy.
"Hi, honey."
As expected, William asked her about the drive over and how the
wedding and reception went. Elizabeth happily chatted about her
day, pleased to hear Will's voice, even if it was on the other
end of a phone line.
"Man, that's
tough about the honeymoon."
"I know. Mari's
taking it real well, though."
"Glad to
hear it. She's a strong lady. Reminds me of somebody else I know."
"Oh,"
Lizzy grinned. "And who might that be?"
"It's somebody
you know. She's smart, she's beautiful, and she can talk me into
damn near anything."
"William…"
"It's just
a joke, honey."
"Right. When
are you coming home?"
"Tomorrow.
I'll work until noon and then prepare the condo. I thought I'd
run by your place and empty the refrigerator. By the time I leave,
the traffic should clear. Look for me at about six."
Lizzy shook her
head - Sir Darcy was at it again. "You don't have
to do that."
"It's no
trouble. Besides, if the power goes out for any length of time,
you'll never get the stink out of the icebox."
"All right.
Thank you, sweetie. Get some rest tonight."
"Is Mrs.
Reynolds still there?"
"Yes."
"Then I
won't embarrass my lovely fiancée by saying what I would
like to be doing to her instead of resting."
Lizzy blushed. "Good
night, William."
She heard his laugh.
"Good night, Lizzy. Love you."
"I love you,
too."
An hour later, Mrs.
Reynolds returned to her own house, leaving Lizzy alone in the
huge estate. In the months she and Will had been dating, the
plantation house had become a second home to her. But this was
the first night she had ever spent alone in Pemberley. The
first, but certainly not the last, she thought. Mrs. Darcy
won't be able to attend every out of town trip. Might as well
get used to it.
~*~*~
K minus thirty-eight
hours
Catherine Bingley,
alerted by Jane's phone call, was waiting in the driveway of
her house when the minivan pulled in.
"Jane,"
she greeted her daughter-in-law with a hug, "what took you
so long? I've been worried sick over you."
"I'm sorry,
Catherine, but traffic was awful, especially in Baton Rouge.
Oh no, Hailey!" The pregnant woman dashed back to the open
van door to grab Rufus' collar. "You almost let Rufus out.
You have to be careful, dear, or he might run in the street."
"I'm sorry,
Mommy," she said, chastised.
She smiled and hugged
her. "That's all right. Take Rufus by his leash and say
hello to Grandmother, while I get Brett out of his car seat."
Hailey took the end of the leash firmly and carefully led the
Great Dane over to Mrs. Bingley, Rufus dutifully following his
young mistress, interested in the newcomer.
Jane retrieved her
young son and carried him over to meet his grandmother. She couldn't
miss the look of unpleasant surprise on the older woman's face.
Catherine kissed
the boy and then gave Jane a look. "You brought the dog?"
"Yes,"
she said as she took the leash from Hailey. "Chuck didn't
tell you, did he?"
"No, he didn't."
"I'm sorry,
but we couldn't leave him in Covington. Chuck will have enough
to do without watching Rufus, especially if a tree falls on our
fence. He'll be no bother - I promise." Rufus sat wagging
his long tail and panting happily at Mrs. Bingley, looking goofy
with his huge tongue hanging out of one side of his mouth.
"Where is it
going to sleep?"
Jane gestured to
the van. "We brought his crate." She giggled. "It
takes up most of the back of the van!"
"I'm sure it
does," she said dryly.
"He's completely
housebroken and hardly sheds."
Catherine blinked.
"You mean to bring that…" she glanced at her granddaughter,
who had her arms around the Great Dane's neck. Rufus didn't mind
the attention one bit. Catherine started again. "I'm not
used to having a dog like that in my house, Jane."
"Grandmother,"
injected Hailey, "can I bring Rufus in to meet Chin Chan?
They're going to be such friends!"
Catherine knelt
down. "Chin Chan is a very sensitive dog, dear. This…dog
may frighten him."
"Oh no, Grandmother.
Rufus likes all dogs. We sol - so -" she screwed up her
face to remember the word, "socialized him. He's
met lots of dogs. He's nice!"
Catherine sighed.
"Very well. Let's all go in together." She stood up.
"We'll get your belongings later, Jane, as well as that
crate. Where did you plan to put it, by the way?"
"It should
fit in the washroom."
Catherine gritted
her teeth. "We'll see."
~*~*~
K minus thirty-six
hours
The monster was
moving steadily to the north-northwest at about twelve miles
per hour. It hadn't increased much in power, but it was steadily
drawing energy from the incredibly warm waters. The sun was beginning
to go down, but that would do nothing to retard its growth.
The monster was
moving steadily to the north-northwest at about twelve miles
per hour. It hadn't increased much in power, but it was steadily
drawing energy from the incredibly warm waters. The sun was beginning
to go down, but that would do nothing to retard its growth.
By 2200 CDT, the
National Hurricane Center had upgraded the Hurricane Watch area
to Hurricane Warning, indicating that the storm was moving, inevitably,
towards landfall.
Onward the monster
advanced, pulling more and more water in its wake.
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