Consultant In Crisis

And if she had to do something this demanding and dangerous, then most people would consider Neil Fletcher to be the best person she could have at her side. Kelly was quite confident that personal antagonism would have no impact on Fletch’s integrity. She knew that if she needed guidance or protection they would be hers without request, as long as Fletch was capable of providing them.

The huge sliding glass doors of the mall entrance had been shattered. Kelly could feel the crunch of glass under her boots as she squared her shoulders and followed Fletch through the dark, gaping hole that had to be entered. Yes. She could trust Fletch as a partner in whatever horrors they might be about to face.

It was just such a shame that she knew the risk of trusting this man any further than that.

Dear Reader,

The things I do in the name of research for my books can add some memorable moments to my life. The one that may well stand out above all others is the day I got “buried alive” in a huge, hardfill rubbish dump as a “victim” in an urban disaster scenario. The Urban Search And Rescue team in training had to find me amongst the rubble and then extricate me safely.

The rather lengthy wait to be “rescued,” as I tapped intermittently on a piece of tin with a rock, was a wonderful opportunity to plan one of the most ambitious-and-enjoyable-writing projects I have tackled so far.

Consultant In Crisis is the first of three books based on a USAR team, and one major disaster in particular. I hope you are as caught up in the drama and excitement as I was and that the stories of Fletch and Kelly, Joe and Jessica, and Wendy and Ross touch your hearts.

Happy reading.

With love,

Alison

Consultant in Crisis

Alison Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

Cover

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘RESCUE team above. Can you hear me?’

The silence was broken by only the sound of a small piece of rubble, dislodged by a steel-capped boot, that bounced off a broken length of timber before hitting a half-buried sheet of corrugated iron. The next ten seconds were eerily quiet.

‘Nothing heard.’ Urban Search and Rescue team member Neil Fletcher looked to his right along the chain of people.

Kelly Drummond was finding a more secure foothold amidst the precarious surface of building debris. Her heavily gloved hand grasped a shaft of timber between the exposed nails as she leaned closer to the steep mountain of rubbish. Rubbish that had once been houses. Houses that had held, and might still contain, people. Using a rock held in her other hand Kelly tapped loudly on a protruding water pipe before using her voice.

‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’

Kelly tilted her head until her safety helmet actually touched the rubble. She listened carefully. The sound created by tapping on a pipe would have carried much further than a human voice. Maybe someone trapped in the collapsed building and still alive could have heard the sound. Maybe she would hear them call out in return or hear tapping that might indicate their use of a similar means of communication. The seconds stretched out. Ten…eleven….twelve….thirteen…

‘Nothing heard.’

Joe Barrington was next in line. Solid, easy-going Joe was a paramedic, like Kelly. She had thought he would be the only person on this team she would know. After an involuntary glance to her left Kelly’s wish that that had indeed been the case was beginning to feel familiar.

‘Rescue team above.’ The deep rumble of Joe’s voice carried right along the ten people making up the human chain. ‘Can you hear me?’

Kelly needed to push her safety goggles back into place but didn’t want to move during the listening phase. Even a tiny movement could send debris tumbling and the sound might mask the whereabouts of a potential victim. A chill puff of wind sneaked inside the collar of the protective overalls and brought with it a mist of drizzle. Kelly closed her eyes for a few seconds. A month ago she had been sitting in the sun at a street-side café in Melbourne. Even three weeks ago she could never have envisioned herself in this situation. Part of an Urban Search and Rescue squad.

Working alongside Neil Fletcher.

She had recognised the possibility of seeing Fletch again. After all, she had chosen to come back to Christchurch and their careers weren’t a million miles apart. But it had been nearly two years now. It was more than likely that an emergency department registrar would have headed overseas for post-graduate experience and then chosen a bigger centre to come back to if he had returned to New Zealand at all. Besides, it had been Kelly who had chosen to end the relationship and the decision had been the right one. The only one. She had come to terms with that a very long time ago and she had moved on. Sorted out what she wanted from life and made damned sure that she was going to achieve it. Even if she did cross paths with Fletch it would make no difference. No difference whatsoever.

‘Nothing heard.’ Joe sounded disappointed. He was probably as weary as everyone else on the team now. The search was physically demanding and, so far, unrewarding. They had located one victim, whose position had been marked with fluorescent orange paint on a small slab of concrete further down the hill. A large ‘V’ for ‘victim’ with an arrow pointed to the precise location. A line through the centre of the ‘V’ indicated that the victim was dead.

Information received on their arrival at the disaster scene suggested that at least two more people were missing—trapped somewhere inside this potentially lethal environment. Subsurface. Casualties that had not been buried had already been removed. An ambulance triage station was dealing with the wounded. A temporary morgue held the less fortunate victims.

‘OK, team.’ The shout came from a man standing below the line. Their team leader, Ross Turnball, looked perfectly at ease with his environment. He balanced easily on the insecure footing and moved with a grace that advertised an enjoyment of physical challenges. ‘Move forward one metre.’

‘Avoid the overhang.’ The order came from another man standing apart from the chain. The confidence that the safety officer, Kyle, displayed was less convincing. ‘And there’s a single piece of reinforcing rod above you, Kelly. I’ve marked it.’

Kelly could see the piece of twisted steel, its rust largely covered by the orange spray paint. She could also see the overhang of the concrete slab above her head to the left. The weight of rubble on top of the slab made it dangerous to get close to. Kelly didn’t need reminding of the potential for aftershocks following the earthquake that had caused these buildings to collapse in the first place. Even a small tremor now could make precariously balanced debris a very real danger for the rescue team.

The careful spacing of the line of rescuers needed to be modified to accommodate the danger of the overhang. That meant that she and Fletch would have to increase the distance between them considerably. Kelly took a deep breath and began to move, remembering to kept three points of contact with the debris at all times. One foot, one hand, the other foot and then the final handhold. One more repetition should take her to her new position well to the right of the overhang. And Neil Fletcher would be well to the left. At least three metres away from her this time.

‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’

Kelly could barely hear Jessica’s voice at the far end of the line as the new series of calls began. With no hope of hearing any response from this distance it was all too easy to let her concentration lapse again.

How could she have been so confident that crossing paths with Fletch would make no difference? That first day of the USAR training course had dispelled that confidence big time. The first thirty minutes had been almost unbearable. Having entered the classroom, Kelly had almost turned on her heel and walked out again. It had been so totally unexpected, seeing Fletch sitting there. The shock had taken her breath away, left her completely numb for a split second, and then a horrible sensation like pins and needles had travelled through her whole body. Her fingers and toes had still been tingling as she’d eased herself onto the nearest available chair. Talk about someone walking across your grave. Someone resembling King Kong had just landed on hers with steel-capped boots.

‘Nothing heard.’ The voice was much closer now. It must be Fletch’s turn again. Unconsciously, Kelly braced herself for the sound of his voice.

‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’

Kelly could hear echoes of his voice in the silence. Echoes sending fingers reaching into her past that could retrieve memories she’d thought she’d buried as effectively as this debris had buried its victims. Memories of passion. Of hopes and dreams that had seemed so achievable. Of a pain that hadn’t been worth risking again. Did Fletch feel any of it? Kelly willed herself not to turn and stare at him. Of course he didn’t. After the anger that her abrupt departure had, no doubt, generated he’d probably been relieved when she’d left. He’d never tried to contact her, had he? Never bothered to ask why she’d just posted back the engagement ring.

‘I can hear something!’ The excitement in Fletch’s voice jarred Kelly into focusing. Had she been mistaken in thinking she could hear an echo of his voice? They shouldn’t be working together. Not this closely.

A murmur ran down the chain of rescuers when Fletch raised his arm to confirm his suspicion. The sound was terminated by a sharp blast of a whistle.

‘Silence on the site,’ Ross shouted to reinforce the whistle command. ‘Fletch—repeat your call.’

This time Kelly also raised her arm as she listened. Then she pointed in the direction from where she could hear the faint sound. To her left. Fletch was pointing to his right. The faint sound of someone groaning or maybe calling out was coming from just above the overhang. The line of rescuers was broken as Ross issued clear commands.

‘Joe, go up two metres and then to your left one metre. Jessica, go up one metre and then to your right one metre. Owen, see if you can move to a position a couple of metres above and between Joe and Jessica. Kyle, double check for hazards.’

Team members moved to their new positions, fatigue replaced by a sense of anticipation.

‘There’s a void in here,’ Jessica shouted. She moved a length of broken timber to reveal a triangle of clear space formed by a sheet of roofing iron resting on a ledge of rubble. ‘I think I can see someone.’ Her voice rose excitedly. ‘Hello—can you hear me?’

Kelly couldn’t hear the response clearly enough to make out the words but that didn’t detract from the sense of satisfaction. They had located a survivor.

‘Her name’s Wendy,’ Jessica relayed a minute later. ‘She’s breathing all right but can’t move her legs. She thinks she may have been unconscious for a while.’

Kyle was spraying an orange ‘V’ onto the nearest available surface.

‘Move a bit further to your left, Fletch,’ Ross instructed. ‘We don’t know what position this woman is lying in. We’ll need to start removing debris from a distance of three metres or so. Jessica, keep talking to her. Try and find out whether she knows of anyone else who may be trapped.’ Ross looked away as he turned his attention back to the whole job. ‘Fletch, Kelly and Joe, you can stay to shift rubble and provide any medical attention needed. We’ll get a Stokes basket up to you shortly. The rest of you form a new line. We need to cover the rest of this sector. As far as we know, we still have one missing person to locate.’

Clearing rubble to gain access to the void was painstaking and slow. They couldn’t risk collapsing the space the survivor was confined in and had to be careful not to make their own positions any less stable. The safety officer was supervising the operation and directing placement of larger pieces of shifted debris.

‘Watch out, Kelly! You need two people to shift that plank.’ Kyle shook his head. ‘Fletch, give her a hand, will you?’

A long blast on the whistle, calling for silence, meant that Kelly did not have to acknowledge his assistance. Jessica paused in the reassurance she was delivering to their patient and they continued with their tasks as quietly as possible as the new line and hail search got under way a little distance above and to their left.

‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’

New team members picked their way carefully up the disaster site, bringing with them a Stokes basket. The heavy-duty moulded plastic stretcher had handles and strap attachments along the top of its raised sides. A first-aid kit and other equipment was ferried up inside the basket.

It took twenty minutes to get close enough to actually start extricating the survivor. A change in the amount of light available to the team was an indication of both weather deterioration and approaching dusk but the teams worked on with steady determination. The line and hail search was now nearing the end of the last sector of this site. If no more victims were found they would probably have to deploy search dogs to try and locate anyone else confirmed to be missing.

‘Wendy—we’re really close now. It won’t be much longer.’ Fletch had taken over the reassurance of their patient. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Not too bad. I’m going to be really glad to get out of here, though.’

‘Can you move or feel your legs at all now?’

‘I’m not sure.’ The sound of coughing was magnified by the sheet of iron still covering Wendy. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Does anything hurt?’

‘No.’ Wendy coughed again. ‘This plaster dust is the worst thing. It keeps falling on my face.’

The top of the corrugated-iron sheet had been cleared of debris. As they lifted it, their patient raised her arm to shield her eyes from the light. Fletch moved closer, catching hold of Wendy’s wrist to feel for a radial pulse. Kelly knew he would be assessing her respiration at the same time and they all watched as he conducted a rapid survey to check for any obvious injuries or blood loss. ‘Let’s get a C-collar on,’ he ordered. ‘And line up the Stokes basket directly below us. We’re going to need to keep spinal alignment when we move her.’

Kelly and Joe had attended many spinal injury patients in their careers in the ambulance service but it had never been this awkward to try and immobilise and extricate them. The stretcher had to be positioned to remain stable and every move the team members made had to be planned in advance and checked to keep themselves safe as well as ensuring that any injuries to their patient weren’t exacerbated.

Once Wendy was securely strapped into the basket stretcher, the progress was still slow as the rescue team manoeuvred their burden down the slope. It took seven people to conduct the operation safely. Two people positioned themselves in front of the four people holding the stretcher basket. When all team members were secure enough to move their arms without losing their footing the stretcher was passed handhold to handhold until the two people at the back were free of the burden and now standing behind the stretcher. Then those two people moved carefully under the watchful gaze of the scout to position themselves ahead. Slowly, metre by metre, the stretcher was moved smoothly towards the base of the slope and the safety of waiting emergency service personnel.

As Kelly moved to a new position at the head of the stretcher for the fifth time she heard a shout from the team members still searching. Joe stared up the slope for a few seconds before nodding. ‘Another survivor by the look of it.’

‘Thank God for that,’ Kelly murmured. ‘I think we’ve all had enough of this for the moment.’ She shoved her hand into the slot at the head of the stretcher. The gloves made the task a lot more awkward but at least they were providing some warmth as well as protection. Her legs were freezing.

Fletch was moving behind her. ‘Why did you volunteer for USAR if you don’t like it?’

‘I didn’t volunteer, actually.’ Kelly watched Fletch reach level ground. Their task was almost complete. ‘Somebody volunteered for me.’

Joe’s eyes crinkled behind the plastic safety goggles as he grinned. ‘That’s true. She made the mistake of turning up in the boss’s office on her first day at work. I was in there, having just discovered that my intended course partner had broken his leg and wouldn’t be able to make it. Kelly had her arm twisted very thoroughly.’

‘Your friend must have heard about the course.’ Damp auburn curls were plastered against Jessica’s cheeks. She looked cold and exhausted as she changed handholds. ‘A broken leg seems like quite an attractive alternative right now.’

‘You think you’ve had it tough! This mask was useless for keeping the dust out and I thought you guys were never going to find me.’

‘You were in there for a long time.’ Kelly gazed back at the mountain of debris as they lowered the stretcher to the level ground. ‘Rather you than me, Wendy. Did you see any rats?’

‘Rats!’ Dark blue eyes widened dramatically behind the safety goggles. ‘Nobody said anything about there being rats around here.’

Joe was unclipping the straps that held Wendy securely in the Stokes basket. ‘It’s a rubbish tip,’ he reminded her. ‘Rubbish tips are always full of rats.’

‘OK, that does it.’ Wendy sat up and lifted her goggles to sit on the brim of her helmet. She pulled the dust mask to hang below a small but determined chin. ‘I resign. I’m not going to be a patient again. One of you lot can do it next time.’

‘But you’re so nice and light,’ Kelly said. ‘Imagine if we had to cart Joe down a hill. It would be a killer. He must weigh three times as much as you.’

‘It’s all muscle,’ Joe protested.

‘It’s discrimination,’ Wendy declared. ‘And I’m going to take a stand. Short people shouldn’t get picked on.’ Her grin was disarming. ‘Not while there’s rats around, anyway.’

Ignoring the hand Fletch was extending to help her, Wendy steadied the stretcher by holding the sides, stood up quickly and then straightened to her full height of barely more than five feet. Fletch and Joe both towered over her and were grinning broadly. Wendy looked away, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully at the sight of the approaching figure.

‘I know. Let’s bury Kyle next time.’

‘Mmm.’ Jessica’s quiet tone matched Wendy’s. ‘And let’s not dig him up.’

It was unfortunate that the burst of laughter coincided with Kyle’s small mishap. Picking his way down the hillside a little too eagerly, Kyle had slipped and travelled a short distance in an undignified sitting position. He looked less than pleased as he came to stand beside Kelly.

‘What are you doing standing up, Wendy? You’re supposed to have a spinal injury.’

‘I’m miraculously cured,’ Wendy announced.

Kyle looked around the group. ‘You were supposed to deliver her to ambulance triage,’ he informed them. He looked less than happy to find his authority undermined.

‘There’s nobody there,’ Fletch said patiently. ‘The exercise was location and retrieval, Kyle. We’ve completed that. Very successfully, in fact.’ Fletch was smiling as he nodded. ‘Well done, everyone.’

It annoyed Kelly that she automatically joined in the murmur of agreement and even appreciation. What was it about Neil Fletcher that made people unconsciously welcome and accept his leadership in almost any situation? Ross had been given the role of team leader for this training exercise and assessment but he was looking as happy as everyone else to have won Fletch’s approval.

Kelly looked down the second Fletch’s glance caught hers. She nudged the bright red plastic Stokes basket. ‘I wonder if they want this taken back up the hill.’

‘Doubt it. I think they’ll be able to carry the last victim down by themselves.’ Fletch sounded amused. ‘It’s only a tape recorder after all.’

Kelly hadn’t noticed that the second half of the rescue team had already started its descent. One of their USAR instructors, Dave Stewart, was leading the group, and he had the strap of the case containing the tape recorder over his shoulder. Bursts of laughter punctuated the careful downward journey of the team and Kelly became as curious as everyone else to find out the cause of such amusement.

‘Listen to this, guys.’ Owen, one of the fire officers on the course, reached in front of Dave to push a button on the cassette deck.

The intermittent groans had been recorded by a woman who had clearly enjoyed her role of acting as an injured and trapped victim. The intensity and length of the groans varied and even Kelly had to giggle after a particularly enthusiastic rendition.

‘Kelly!’ Joe sounded shocked. ‘Were you carrying a tape recorder on your last date?’

‘And can I have his phone number?’ Wendy had to raise her voice over the fresh burst of laughter from the group.

‘I should be so lucky!’ Kelly knew that the colour flooding her face would make her casual response less than convincing. She looked away, intending to find something she could focus on while she controlled her embarrassment. Instead, her gaze locked with that of Neil Fletcher. He appeared to be joining in the general mirth but the gaze from the dark hazel eyes was not even remotely amused. It was cold. Disapproving. Angry, even. Kelly gave up any hope of controlling the blush but her colour was no longer due to embarrassment. How could someone else’s anger be so instantly contagious?

‘Good to see that this has been so enjoyable.’ Dave shut off the recording. ‘We would normally have a debriefing of the training exercise here but I’m sure you’re all cold and tired and it’s getting dark. Let’s pack up and get back to school. When we’ve all had a chance to get changed and clean, we’ll get going. We’re booked in for that meal at seven and we can do our debrief over a beer or two before we eat.’

‘Excellent idea.’ Owen and Joe led the move to collect gear. Cans of spray paint, the whiteboard that information about the incident had been recorded on, the Stokes basket, first-aid equipment and a large quantity of other gear was loaded into the luggage compartment of the bus. The large group worked well together, the impression that they were a closely knit team highlighted by their uniform of dark blue overalls, the bright orange safety helmets they wore and the frequent bursts of laughter that punctuated conversations. Everybody was happy to have completed a challenging day of practical work. Nobody was sorry to board the bus and leave the grim playground of the hardfill rubbish tip behind.

The hot shower was blissful. Dressing warmly in her faded, comfortable jeans, a soft shirt and a fluffy llama wool pullover, Kelly bundled up the overalls which were now badly in need of washing and headed for the waiting linen bag in the female change rooms. The area was busy. Jessica was pulling a wide-toothed comb through her shoulder-length auburn curls and Wendy was applying gel to spike her short blonde hair.

‘I can’t come out for this meal,’ Jessica was telling Wendy. ‘Mum needs a break from looking after Ricky. There’s nowhere he can play outside at that motel we’re in and he’ll be bouncing off the walls by now.’