Frank relayed this information to Ben, who passed it along by radio. Frank continued to tap and repeat patterns of tapping, hoping to reassure the trapped person.
Soon the technical rescue team arrived — it had taken them less than four minutes despite the fact that they were also carrying equipment — an exothermic cutting torch, a concrete saw, lift pillows, breathing canisters, first aid supplies, a microphone that could be threaded through small openings, and cribbing wood.
“On to the next floor,” Ben said as the team went to work on cutting the door. “Unless you want to stay here?”
“No, I’ll come along. But—”
“I’ve already asked them to contact you when they learn who it is.”
On the fifth floor, instead of darkness near the stairwell, they found daylight.
The west stairwell bomb had gone off on the seventh floor of the new stairwell, blowing out chunks of concrete that then fell through the roof of the older stairwell — which started at the fifth floor. In addition to forming a crude skylight, the debris completely blocked access between the two stairwells. Dust and dirt from the roof lay everywhere.
But on this floor the dogs had their strongest response yet. Taken near the stairwell separately, all three alerted. Bingle didn’t sing this time, but his interest in getting closer to the new stairwell was plain. Ben frowned, studying the obstacles before them, then said, “Bingle’s the best climber of these three. Let’s see what he wants to show us, Frank. Anna, hold on to Rascal for me, will you? I’ll follow along, Frank, just in case you need help with him.”
As Bingle led them over boulder-sized pieces of concrete and fallen beams, he became more and more excited. Finally he stopped and cocked his head. He stood in the sun near a small opening formed by two large pieces of concrete that had fallen against each other in a tent shape.
For a moment, Frank was afraid the dog was going to try to burrow into the space, but as he came closer, he saw that it was too small even for Bingle to squeeze through. Bingle stuck most of his snout into the opening, snuffling loudly, and began wagging his tail. Abruptly, he pulled his nose out and raised his head up high. Frank braced himself to hear howling, but instead the dog sneezed — then began barking.
Ben had come closer then, too, and once again managed to both praise and reward Bingle while getting him to be quiet. Suddenly, Frank realized why the dogs had been so sure this time — through the opening he could hear the faint sound of a voice.
A familiar voice calling, “Hello! Hello! We’re down here!”
“Irene!” Frank began shouting. “Irene!”
“Frank? In here!” came the faint but clear response. “Oh, Frank! I’m here! Seth and Judge Kerr, too.”
“Irene—” he said, and for a moment couldn’t say anything more. He felt tears on his face and let them fall.
“I’m okay, Frank — Seth, too.”
He heard Ben calling on the radio, asking for more help. He didn’t sound much steadier.
“Are any of you hurt?” Frank asked.
“The judge is hurt the worst. Seth is with him — they ended up a little farther down, but Seth and I can hear each other. Seth says Kerr is breathing, but he’s unconscious.”
“And you?”
“A little bumped around, that’s all. Were you the one who was tapping?”
“Yes. Ben and Bingle and Anna and her dogs are here. Bingle is the star of the day. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“From the moment Seth told me someone was answering his taps, I’ve been doing better and better.”
He continued to talk to her until the second technical team arrived. He moved back into the corridor then, watching as they used inflatable lift pillows to widen the opening and began the work of shoring up the space they’d use to free her.
Ben put a hand on his shoulder. Frank turned to see Anna waiting down the corridor with the dogs. “We’ve got to move along,” Ben said.
Frank glanced back at the rescue team, which was hammering cribbing in place.
“Sure,” he said.
“Oh, no, you stay here. I think we can dispense with your help.”
“I meant what I said—”
“I know you did. But if you haven’t figured out that I risked being kicked off the SAR team just because I couldn’t stand to think of you sitting out in the plaza while I looked for your trouble-prone wife—”
“I was going crazy down there, Ben. I — I don’t know how to thank you—”
“I owe the two of you too much for thanks to be due. Besides, this was good for me — it will help me with the rest of the day.”
He watched them take the dogs down the hall, Ben talking to Bingle in Spanish, Anna to Rascal and Devil in English, working up their enthusiasm, telling them to “find ’em,” knowing that the outcome would seldom be the one that others hoped and waited for.
Frank moved back toward the stairwell, as close as the workers would allow him to come.
For now, he would wait. And silently offer thanks.
54
