OOC:
Today’s Campaign Stops
Andrei Pakhomov(Pakhomov Blok)
-Visits with city and business leaders in Panjuhr.
-Rally at Viktor Starffin stadium in Panjuhr.
-Visit to chemical plant in Gulyavt, 10km west of Panjuhr
-End of day, travel to Jagadsemash
Yuri Simonov(Social Democratic Party)
-Campaign launch in Kalibad
-Fly to Aubrey
-Fund raising Dinner at Rainbow Beach Convention Centre
-Wine & Cheese at Carr Gallery/Berton Museum
-Staying at Twinn Hotel in Aubrey, travel to Neorvins,Kirkenes,Outineau and Dieppe tomorrow to meet with Expatriates and Kelssekian supporters.
Pyotor Boldriev(Communist Party)
-Visit to Yost Power Station, Press Conference
-Whistlestop in Pashagul, 5km SW of Yost
-Return to Yost for rally in Pakhomov Plaza
-Staying at Diplomat Hotel, travel to Ulgava in moring
IC:
Kalibad Fire Station #2, 0145
The men of Engine Company Four and Rescue Two slept peacefully. It was the nicer part of being a fireman as opposed to a Police Officer or Paramedic. There wasn’t a need to patrol in between calls. If the cops saw a fire, they’d call. Sure enough, they did. The alert tone sounded. Senior Lieutenant Vladimir Simonov jumped out of bed, and as normal, was the first down the stairs. The two rings of the small bell on the wall said this would be a bad call. “Engine! Rescue!” The dispatcher said over the PA, letting both units know to get moving. Simonov was first in the Engine, starting it. When the others caught up, the doors were lifted up by hand and the engine drove out slowly. When the men on the doors caught up, the sirens came on and the race to the fire began. Another enigne was already there. “It’s the Gypsy reserve! The tenements in the southwest corner are on fire. Nobody knows whats inside this place, it’s rumoured to be a CLF hideout.” The Captain in charge of the scene was on the radio.
As the Engine left behind the lights of the city for the dimmer lights of the reserve, Simonov was already planning. At 26, he had been in the fire service for two years, after being let go from the Air Force. He had done much better as a commissioned fireman than he ever would have as a pilot. Smart able young people just didn’t go into the fire brigade, but the Coocoo Autonomous Oblast had put a lot of money into it’s emergency services and was reaping the rewards. Cities much larger than Kalibad were doing far worse for coverage.
The flames were visible from a good two kilometres away. When Simonov’s engine arrived, a confused mass of people were outside, with the CAO Police trying to clear them away. "Lieutenant Simonov! Glad you’re here now. I need you to take an attack team into that three-story flats and clear from top to bottom. Simonov hooked up his oxygen tank. He was lucky to have one, as most other firefighers in the country had a chemical-oxygen apparatus that was in the front and more difficult to use tools with. With the oxygen tank, his hands were free. He took a Senior Fireman and three others into the block of apartments. He pointed his thermal imaging camera at the door and saw a blotch of white. “Door is hot! Cool down the door!” His man on the hose’s nozzle repeated him and sprayed the door in a figure eight pattern. After five seconds, he stopped and Simonov checked it again, to see black. “Door is cool! Crack the door!” They cracked open the door and although they saw no flames, they sprayed a bit to dissipate the smoke and gas that had no doubt built up.
They began to search the smoke filled flats, which there were only three of. One room with a shoddy staircase right into the next one. The gypsies had a different way of living. They patted the floor under beds, in closets and found an elderly man passed out. Simonov sent one of his men outside with him and told him to not come back in. The second floor was a living area, for the same family, but was empty. They were just about ready to move upstairs, when outside, the man they had rescued came to, he spoke only a little Russian. “Danger!” he said as he pointed to the house. The Captain came over to him. “What’s wrong? What’s the danger?”
“Rackyet!”
The captain keyed his radio “Simonov! I’m calling your team back, the old man says they’re storing explosives there, they could cook off!” The captain hit the button on his remote to activate the recall alarms for team 4, which was the number he’d given Simonov’s team. They were just starting out from the second floor when he heard a cry from the unsearchable third floor. “Go! I’m going upstairs to check!” His men would normally question such a choice, but with Simonov, they didn’t. He knew what he was doing, unlike so many of the other young people who tried to lead them.
As Simonov went upstairs, he saw much of the flames were on this floor. He switched his hose to a mist pattern, that went only a few inches in front of him, so he could knock the flames down. He saw what looked like a child’s bed in the corner. The hose stuck as he tried to pull it. It was simply too hard on his own. He dropped it and walked over. As he untucked the sheets of the bed, he discovered the source of the noise, a pair of kittens. He walked over to the window and seeing the stereotypical giant net, waved them over. Instead, one of the paramedics came over and caught both of them as he threw them the three stories. As Simonov started to search the third floor, he opened a wardrobe. Inside there were three RPGs and an AT4 round, all with small flames on the exterior, fuelled by the oxygen that had gotten in the window. Simonov thought of dashing for the stairs, but he hadn’t searched the floor yet He patted down the last empty bed and was walking towards the stairs, when those outside were startled by a loud explosion.
The Captain paused and then shouted. “Get everything you have on the top floor of building four, I’ve got an injured man in there! Put out the third, no fourth alarm, I need everyone down here!” Deep down, he knew it was too late. Simonov’s men were hysterical. “Vladik! Vladik!”
Hours later, as the buildings smoked only a little and firemen without their jackets on doused the hotspots, the Cheif of the CAO fire service was on hand. “I told his father. He didn’t have anything to say. He sounded lost. Vladimir Yurivich was his only child.”
“Do you think he’ll keep going? With his campaign?”
“I can’t imagine it. But then again, if he raised a son as resilient as this, if anyone would it would be him.”