The Glass Inferno

CHAPTER 62

There were lights strung throughout the lobby now and Barton found the blueprints much easier to read. Buried someplace within them had to be at least the suggestion of an idea. But then, it was only magicians who pulled rabbits out of hats, he thought.

“Give it up, Craig,” Infantino said after Barton flipped back to the first of the drawings and started to go through them again.

“Within another hour or so, they should have the booster pumps hooked up on emergency power.”

“Within another hour, the whole top of the building will be a torch,” Barton said. “There’s still the Southport pumper-that might still arrive in time.”

Barton hit the table with his fist. “I don’t believe that and neither do you, Mario.”

A runner came over and told Infantino that the last of the lower floors was now under control. Shevelson relaxed visibly. “You won’t have to use any explosives then, right?”

Infantino shook his head. “That’s right, though I really doubted that we would’ve right from the start. It was just nice to have them on hand in case we needed them. Why?

I thought you said there was no danger?”

“I’m no engineer,” Shevelson said. “That was an off the-top-of-my-head answer. If I had to gamble I’d still stand by it, but there would always be an outside chance if the structure were weakened enough you might end up dropping an entire floor.”

One of the men from the CD comm van came running into the lobby then to report to Infantino, “Chief, Colonel Shea just radioed that the U.H.-1’s are airborne. We should be seeing them in fifteen minutes.”

“What about the Sikorsky?” Barton asked.

“Still trying to locate the owners-the shuttle ‘copter service is closed for the evening”: “Keep trying and when you get through, light a fire under them. We need that dinosaur pronto, ten or more lives depend on it.”

“Can’t we use the winches on the U.H-1’s?” Infantino asked.

Barton shook his head. “Doubt it. Certainly not while the birds are airborne and I don’t know how -to anchor them on the roof for enough purchase.”

“Colonel Shea also said he was sending over half a dozen pyrotechnic torches,” the comm man added.

Shevelson looked at Barton, puzzled. “What the hell are they?”

“Essentially self-contained solid rockets,” Barton explained.

“They give you an oxygen-rich flame, burn for about one minute, and will cut through almost any metal.

I wanted an oxyacetylene torch, but these will be less clumsy.”

“I still don’t get it,” Shevelson’ said. “What. do you want them for?”

“In case we have to cut through elevator cables.”

Shevelson stared at him for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but I’m glad it’s your responsibility and not mine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Barton said curtly. He turned to Infantino.

“That leaves us only the fire at the top, right?”

Infantino nodded and spread his hands. “That’s right, Craig-but beyond waiting for the pumper or the booster pumps to be hooked up, there’s not much that can be done.”

“There’re five more floors of unfinished apartments for the fire to spread to in the next hour or so,” Barton said.

“What do you think your chances of saving the building will be then?”

“We’ll probably save the building,” Infantino said carefully.

“The top floors will be gutted, of course.”

“And if there are further explosions in the utility core?”

“All bets are off then, you know that.” He paused a moment.

“You’ve got an idea, haven’t you?”

Barton shook his head and pointed to Shevelson’. “It’s not my idea, it’s his.” He flipped through the drawings to one of the machinery room just below the Observation Deck, and then to the Observation Deck itself: the large Freon tanks, the huge water reservoir for the wet standpipe, the hVAC system on the, machinery floor, and the piping to the rooftop evaporator next to the untenanted penthouse.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Infantino said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“You don’t know how much damage explosives will do to the structure of the building itself,” Shevelson objected.

“None of us are sure,” Barton pointed out. “But we know how much damage the fire is doing, don’t we?” He pointed at the drawings of the Observation Deck with its massive - water and Freon tanks. The supporting metal beams were clearly outlined in the print. “We can take measurements right off the drawing and assemble a Primacord/shape-charge lattice down here. Position three of the charges at beam connections and the others will automatically be in place when the cord is taut. That means we can rupture every supporting member in the floor at the same time when we detonate the charges.”

“What about the structural integrity of the building?

Infantino asked.

“Shape charges are highly directional. So long as we don’t damage the outer skeleton, the floors above will remain intact. They’ll take some beating from the Primacord shock wave, of course. The Punch in Primacord is pretty potent. I hope the lower floors can take, the impact load; that’s a helluva mass of water.”

“For what you want, the shape charges will have to explode almost simultaneously,” Shevelson objected.

“That’s why we use Primacord,” Barton explained.

“The shock wave travels six thousand or so yards a second along it.

That means the charges win go off within a split second of each other.”

Shevelson gaped. “Christ, if you, blow the Observation Deck floor, that means …

“All the water and Freon tanks on the Observation Deck will be dumped on the machinery-room fire below.”

Shevelson shook his head. “It probably wouldn’t stop there, Barton.

At least in spots; the explosions and the sudden weight of water dropping down will shatter the machinery-room floor, too.”

Barton nodded. “That’s the point. A lot of water will cascade through the broken flooring onto the sixty-third floor below, the untenanted apartment floor that’s on fire.

I’d expect that; I’d hope desperately for it. But I also figure that’s where it will stop-a lot of water will have flowed down the stairwells and the elevator-shafts by then.”

There was silence for a long moment and Shevelson asked: “What about the rooftop evaporators and the water they hold?”

“Drop the floor, you break the pipes and that water will drain down on the fire, too.” He turned to Infantino.

“What about it, Mario? You’re in charge.”

Infantino shrugged. “It’s a great idea-if it works. If it doesn’t I guess I’m out of a job.”