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She pressed the transmit button on her shoulder mic.

“Cappy, roof access? Over.”

“East staircase, Chief,” Cappy’s voice came back over the radio. “But that’s the one that was destroyed by the explosion. Over.”

“Right,” Becca acknowledged. “Which means we can’t get the civilians down. But maybe we can still get them up. Get O/C Rescue to tell us if the winds are too high for choppers to land on the roof. Call the Navy, tell them I want their choppers airborne yesterday! Over.”

“Copy.”

“Chief!”

A firefighter, his face blackened with smoke, came running up to her.

“We’ve cleared a path to the north stairs! But it won’t hold long!”

Thank fuck!

“With me,” she ordered the fireman.

They hurried back to where the partygoers were waiting. As before, Dunston stepped forward.

“Any kids in this group?” she asked him.

Dunston shook his head.

“No.”

“Get the nearest ten women and bring them to us. We’re going to try to get some down to ground level via the north stairs.”

Without wasting any time, Dunston followed her orders.

“Chief, why not all the women?” the fireman with her asked.

Becca shook her head.

“Too risky with a large group,” she answered. “If our way to the stairs suddenly closes and they panic, we’ll have a bigger problem. We’ll take them down in small groups. Easier to control. You’ll lead the first group.”

“Understood.”

Dunston moved fast. In a moment, ten women of various ages and wearing a variety of partygoing outfits were gathered in front of the firefighters.

Becca sighed.

Without exception, all of the women were wearing high heels; even a woman who was at least seventy. But Becca couldn’t risk having them go barefoot. There was too much glass, broken metal and God knows what else on the floor. Nonetheless…

“You ladies listen to me,” she said sternly. “We’re going to try to get you down to ground level by the north staircase. You follow this firefighter down. Follow, understood? That means he stays in front! And if shit starts to get dicey and you need to hurry, take off those ridiculous shoes and run barefoot! Do I make myself clear?”

The women nodded and offered no complaints. It probably helped that at six-feet tall, Becca towered over most of them, even though they were the ones wearing high heels.

Becca turned to the fireman who was going to be their escort.

“Radio when you get to seven and I’ll send the next group down. Go now!”

“Let’s go ladies!” he instructed.

“Get the rest of the women in groups of ten, Mr. Dunston. Have the next group wait right here.”

“Got it,” Dunston replied.