I opened the door to exit the site vice president’s office and peered inconspicuously down the corridor to make sure no one saw me leave. Finding the coast clear, I put my copy of Cat’s Cradle into the left pocket of my BDUs and locked the door behind me. This office was the only safe place for a security guard to read within a nuclear facility. It was three o’clock in the morning and I had just enough time to secretly turn the key back in before rotating to my next post. The hallways were loud with the sound of turbines that generated power for thousands as I walked the key back to the alarm station. That’s when I heard the call on the radio.
“10-18, all units get in the field. The FAA has reported a hijacked aircraft en route to our location. ETA fifteen minutes.”
I could feel the tension in Friendly’s voice. The man never got rattled. This was for real.
Standing outside of the security building holding the office key in my hand, my eyes went blank and I couldn’t hear anything for awhile. Somebody brushed past me and said, “Mount up or get the fuck out of here Noland!”
I clipped the office key onto the lanyard around my neck and headed to the weapons vault within the security building to drop my gear. When I got there I nearly tripped over a dozen gun belts that had been left in the floor and immediately knew what the consensus was. Right then at that moment I felt as if I had a choice. I thought for sure most of us were going to die.
The magnitude of what was occurring began to cross my mind as I dropped my stainless steel sidearm in the weapons vault and took off my load bearing and ballistic vests. The fact of the matter was that a hijacked aircraft crashing into the station was imminent. That being said, it made no difference whatsoever how fast or far I could drive. Plumes of radiation cannot be escaped. My mind was made up and I headed to the emergency response building within the facility to assume my duties as one of the stations five fire fighters for the evening.
Nervous wasn’t really the feeling and scared didn’t hold the weight either. Part of me felt fortunate that I was on the fire team that night. I hastily removed my combat boots. My feet slid into my fire galoshes and I pulled my protective pants up over my BDUs. I looked around the room for signs of trepidation as I pulled the suspender straps over my shoulders. Two operators actually showed up and I saw the despair in each of their faces.
I often wondered why the station didn’t have a legit group of fire fighters. Kind of a foolish thing to dwell on at the time but it was my way of dealing with the situation. Who the hell decided that four control room operators and a security guard were enough to handle the worst case fire scenario at a nuclear power plant? Tonight there were just three of us instead of five. The other two members of the brigade never showed.
Nuclear stations are so ridiculously procedurally driven. After 9/11 the great minds of management decided that the station needed a procedure to mitigate jet fuel fires. I guess they forgot to consider that not everyone has the stones to stand tall and face an impending inferno.
The rules of the game in a jet fuel scenario stated that in the event of an incomplete team, one “knowledgeable operator” would return to the control room and act as a liaison between operations and offsite assistance if and when they arrived. If another “knowledgeable operator” was present, they would report to the fuel building and wait to assess any breeches. Since I was security, I already knew my place and was prepared to drive the fire engine to a designated mustering point outside of the station and rendezvous with offsite assistance. Halfway out the door she grabbed my shoulder from behind. I can’t remember her name. I think it was Sarah. The social disconnect between departments made it impossible to know everyone.
“Will you go for me?” I could barely hear her screaming over the turbines being ramped down. “I’m pregnant and can’t go into the fuel building,” she said.
Lines of tears streaming down her face were being sopped up by the protective hood pulled down around her neck. Steam was everywhere from the hot water being released within the station. She must have thought I was a fool yet I felt sorry for her. I nodded my head and took the self contained breathing apparatus from her hands.
When I passed the security tactical room on my way to the fuel building, I saw that the floor was littered with safety rounds from rifles. Rifles that my friends now held in their hands. I reached down and picked one of them up as a memento to their loyalty and put it into the pocket of my fire coat. The guards on my shift were all I had in life. Right now they were scattered throughout the plant. I imagined some were where they needed to be, others were probably just hiding. I had no intentions of ever going to the fuel building; instead I went to find camaraderie.
I pushed through the door to the alleyway outside the turbine building and was greeted by the sounds of cocking rifles and quickly identified myself. Three red dots circled my chest like moths to a patio light.
“How many threats show up to the dance dressed like a fucking fire man?” I yelled from the doorway. When the safeties clicked back on I bent down to set my helmet, gloves and Sarah’s tank down on the asphalt. There was still a red moth flying around a snap on my crotch. I looked down the alleyway for the source.
I yelled, “Fuck, Reyes, cut it out.” The dangling cigarette gave him away.
He lowered his weapon and flicked a hot ash. Even from a distance I could tell he was hot boxing it like a madman.
“Wanna smoke?” He offered me the box. “I’ll pretend that you’re old enough and promise not to tell your momma.”
This was the running joke. When I took the job a few years ago I had just turned twenty one. That was the minimum age for carrying a fire arm according to the NRC.
“Those things will kill you,” I said nonchalantly.
“A fucking airplane smashing into containment will kill you. And me and everyone else around for miles and miles,” Reyes said.
“If it hits containment we get lucky,” I said. “If it hits the fuel building then our bones will glow in our graves. How much time do we have anyway?”
“Something like ten minutes. If I were you, I’d be running towards the turnstiles like all the other spineless motherfuckers around here. Last time Friendly did a radio check only nine of us answered it.”
“Nine? And three of them are down here in this worthless alleyway?” I asked.
“Hey man, I just go where the procedure tells me to go. I think Purcell is on top of the main steam building and Jimmy is under the equipment hatch. Where the fuck are you going? Shouldn’t you be unrolling water hoses or something?”
“I’m going up on the rooftops of the diesels. If I’m going to go out like this then I might as well see the fireworks,” I said.
“I’ll come with you. We Marines gotta stick close. Oorah and all that shit.”
“I’m no damn Marine, Reyes. I’m just a kid who doesn’t know any better. Besides, you just want to come with me because you can’t hack it out here in this alleyway.”
“Hey Noland, it’s whatever you say. I’ll make your ass an honorary Marine tonight. I’ll call Purcell down from his post and we’ll anoint you and all that shit.” Reyes started laughing like a lunatic.
I would never in my wildest dreams consider joining the Marine Corps. I had heard enough horror stories from these guys while chewing the fat on night shift. There has to be ulterior motives involved when busses full of men and women arrive late to Paris Island every night. All the fresh meat arrives consistently after midnight and just as soon as those idiot’s boots hit the grass they get tenderized. Drill sergeants break you down immediately and get inside your head before you can get your first nights rest. The Marine Corps was American brainwashing at its finest. But they got stones at least. You could count on them, no questions asked.
“You two jarheads gonna tap Jimmy too?” I asked just as we reached the ladder to the diesel rooftops. “He’s the one that showed up. Hell, I just came out here because I thought I could slip past with no one seeing me.”
“Shit man, Jimmy’s been on the phone since the code was called and we took up post. He’s nothing but a dumbass and a pussy anyway. As soon as we got out here Purcell took his extra magazines right from his vest. I guess he thinks he’s gonna shoot that fucking plane down.”
We both started laughing, just not at the same things. I at a Marine calling someone else a dumbass and him thinking he was some damn comedian. As I unlocked the ladder something smashed against the wall a few yards from us. It was Jimmy’s phone.
Reyes shouted, “Hey you Irish fuck we don’t need a preview of what’s about to occur here.” Turning to me he said, “Man, go chill that guy out. I’m gonna go up the way and burn another one.”
He gave me one of those hybrid handshake slaps and smiled under the lights. As I walked away I leaned down to pick up some of the pieces to Jimmy’s phone. I didn’t know him that well. He was one of those guys that grew up too slow and thought that games like Parcheesi were all you needed on a Friday night. Jimmy was a tubby fuck who was already more than half bald and was at least five years older than me.
“You know your carrier is going to be pissed when you walk in the store tomorrow and show them what you’ve done,” I said to him.
“There ain’t gonna be a tomorrow you bastard.” His words were moist from sweat or tears or both. “It looks like they would have shut off the lights out here by now.”
“That would be stupid. If they did, all these big fucking diesels behind me would cut on, bring the lights back up and we wouldn’t be able to hear ourselves think,” I said.
“How can you just stand here all smug and act like we aren’t about to be fucking vaporized?” he asked.
Jimmy’s voice withered. He wiped at his eyes quickly. Truth be told, I was just as scared as he was. Some people are hoarders. I just hoard my emotions. I would have been praying to God if I knew he had the time to listen. But for whatever reason this was how I had always dealt with negative shit. I made a mockery of it all.
Everyone in this motherfucker is ignorant as hell if they didn’t see this one coming. It had barely been two years since 9/11 and the towers couldn’t be the entire show. Why not blow up a nuclear reactor and send some radiation up Bush’s ass?
“Who did you call, Jimmy?” I wanted to ease his mind.
“My mom,” he said. His eyes never left the fence line that surrounded the station several yards in front of him. I don’t think he was even blinking.
“Why didn’t you call that little girl of yours?” I said. “The one you brought to Friendly’s house last weekend.”
“I wanted to,” he said. “But we’ve only been on a few dates and I can’t let her know how I feel this early. She’ll think I’m some kind of obsessed nut.”
“And now she’ll never know,” I said. “Remember, we’re all about to be vaporized.”
“Fuck you, you bastard!” Jimmy tossed his rifle to the ground. The rear lens of the sight nearly shattered on the dark asphalt.
He grabbed his lunchbox and walked away. After he turned the corner I heard his fear escape from his stomach in the form of vomit. I picked up his rifle and found him around the corner looking like a fat tea kettle. One of his hands was on his hip and the other was angled against a wall in the alleyway.
“Where are you going?” I asked him.
“Inside.” He spit out what fear was left in his mouth.
“Why the hell would you want to do that?” I asked. “Think about how fucked up it’s gonna get in there.”
Inside was the last place I would want to be. The turbine building was nothing but steel and concrete. You couldn’t see anything in there right now anyway. The steam from the cooling valves had managed to fill every floor of the massive turbine building. I often would climb up to its roof sometimes at the end of night shift and watch the sun rise over the lake. I’m not sure how high up it is but from that point you stand at eye level with the lightning rods attached to the domes. I’d be up there right now but I doubt Friendly would have given me the key to the turbine building roof ladder at a time like this.
“Look Jimmy, I’ll take this fucking rifle okay. But you got to come up to the diesel rooftops with me and watch the show,” I said.
He was reluctant but he picked up his lunchbox and followed me rung after rung up to the top. I sat down and slid my legs over the side. When I did some of the pea gravel rocks scattered near the edge fell and clanged loudly against Sarah’s tank I left at the bottom. Jimmy sat Indian style five feet or so behind me.
“It’s colder up here,” he said.
“It’s the middle of fucking December. And it isn’t colder, you’ve just calmed down enough to realize it,” I said. “You have any kids Jimmy?”
“Nah. You?”
“Nope. What time is it?” I asked.
“Three thirty seven.”
Jimmy reached in his lunch box, grabbed a strawberry Moon Pie and offered me one. I declined and started throwing rocks at Reyes who was still smoking in the alleyway below. In between drags he threw rocks back.
“Is your radio dead or something?” I asked. “I haven’t heard Friendly in a while.”
Jimmy tried his best to search for it on his belt. After a few seconds he said, “Shit, I turned it down while I was talking to my Mom.” He cranked up the knob.
“If I got your rifle you might as well give me your damn radio too,” I said.
He clipped it off his belt and nearly tossed it over the edge.
I held it in my hands, then keyed the mic and said, “127 to control 10-14.” This was just a standard radio check and Friendly came back with a 10-2 letting me know I was receiving clearly.
Jimmy and I sat in silence for minutes that passed slower than the opening credits of a porno film. He was working on his second strawberry Moon Pie. Where was this fucking plane? I was ready for it to hit any second and send radioactive fire and jet fuel burning through the night sky. Instead, the only spark in sight came from Reyes hot boxing again below us.
Random thoughts began to race through my mind like horses on a sped up carousel. I shook them off and tried to think of a poetic song to play inside the turntable of my head but could only come up with “Don’t Look Back in Anger” by Oasis. Just as I reached the chorus for the second time, static came over the radio.
“All units stand down. The FAA advises that the threat has been diverted. I say again to all units, you can stand down.”
I sighed heavily, emitting a stream of white breath from my mouth. Reaching into the pocket of my fire coat I pulled out the plastic safety round I picked up in the hallway earlier. Spinning it between my fingers it somewhat resembled an orange airplane with just one wing. I locked the bolt of the rifle to the rear, inserted the plastic round inside, and slapped the chamber home. This made the weapon safe. Safe like me. Safe like everyone.
Jimmy sat motionless behind me. I laid the weapon long ways at his feet and set the radio down beside it. His mouth was half opened and had pink crumbs hanging from it and falling out of it. Some vomit was still clinging to the Velcro pocket of his tactical vest. I decided to leave him up there. Purcell had come down off his rooftop too. He and Reyes smoked together in the back of the alleyway.
I opened the door to the turbine building and headed for the emergency response building. Once I got there I could see someone outside of it yet they were barely visible through the dissipating steam. Once I reached the door I could tell it was Sarah from earlier. She was balled up against the wall but upright. Her face was hidden in her knees and I could tell she was sobbing from the way her ribs were bouncing.
I entered the small room and took my fire coat off. My shirt was soaked with sweat. I put all my gear back in the locker after I removed the change of clothes I kept in a plastic bag at the bottom. When I finished changing I realized that I still needed to turn in the key to the site vice presidents office. With it still clipped to my lanyard, I stole some operator’s jacket and hard hat from a rack by the door and left the room for the security building.
When I reached the door, I punched in the code and entered. The alarm station was a mad house. Bosses were everywhere. I caught Friendly’s eyes and held up the office key. I put it back on its hook inside the large metal box where it belonged and searched the inventory. I located the key to the turbine building rooftop ladder, plucked it from its hook and held it up for Friendly to see. He smiled and signed it out to me. I clipped it to my lanyard and got out of there undetected.
As I walked through the gravel behind the transformers on the back side of the turbine building, I couldn’t get that song out of my head. It just kept playing over and over. When it would end, my mind would pick up the needle and knock it back to the edge of the record. Finally I reached the ladder. I zipped up the coat, tightened the hard hat and began to climb. The December sun probably wouldn’t rise by the time my shift ended that morning but I would be ready for it just in case it did.
