Ritchie Stonehedge was on his way to work after dropping off his daughter at school. Uniform on, gun to his side, vest strapped tightly. Something tense in the air told him it was going to be a very eventful day.
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"Chief, Sarge needs you to stop by the World Trade Center and pick up some of those new vests." "On it." Ritchie drove like normally to the two tallest towers in America. Parking up front, he got out and walked inside. EVerything was like usual. Elevator up to the 95th floor. Down the hall, to the left, down another hall, a right, here we are. A new stash of high equiped bullet-proof vests. Smiling, Ritchie grabbed the two cases. He turned to make his way out of the building, and stopped dead in his tracks. Ritchie should have said his prayers first, because the impact he just felt as he fell to the floor was the hardest impact he's ever felt physically. The ground shook, the room filled with smoke. Ritchie laid on the ground unconsciously as the world around him swirled.
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Sirens blared and people screamed as FDNY, NYPD, and all the other rescue members of surrounding areas rushed to the World Trade Center. NYPD officers scrambled like ants trying to get people out of the towers as quickly as possible. The captain of the NYPD force, Capt. William A. Smith, paged Chief Ritchie M. Stonehedge numerous times. "He's not answering, didn't he come in this morning?" Another officer, Roland White, cut in. "Yessir, I talked to him this morning over the radio. Sarge had him come here to pick up the new vests for the department." Hearing those words, the captain and the sergeant both stood in stunned silence. The police floor was so high up, it was deathly dangerous to be reached by anyone. "Page FDNY, let's see if we can use a ladder truck and a few free highly trained firefighters to help us get up as high as we can that way and then a few of us can go up from there," Capt. William commanded.
The FDNY and NYPD members both worked hard enough maintaining the outter physical and emotional damage, then getting even more members inside a 110-story-tall buildin was overwhelming. So man people could still be inside above and on the hit floors. The NYPD got ten officers in the building as the FDNY gave two ladder trucks and 15 members. They all went up, up, up in the building. Hundreds of people were drug out of the World Trade Center, but that wouldn't be anything compared to what was fixing to happen next. "Pager. Pager! We are in the building, Matthew Collins, Shaun Crescent, Jason Wright, and myself are all spreading out now on the 91st floor. No trace of Chief yet, but FDNY and a few officers are coming back down with several victims. Copy that please!" They heard a copy through the pager from the sergeant outside of the building. Officers Matthew Collins and Jason Wright took off together to the floors above 100 and the other two officers started from 99 and moved down.
Outside of the building, terror grew continuously as fire grew also in the first building. To everyone's surprise, the skies only became to is darkest point when a second plane hit the second tower. More people came running and screaming. Fire started almost immediately where the second plane hit. Fire departments and police forces from surronding states were present now. More rescue members were sent up, all inhopes of bring many back down.
Back inside the first tower, Officer Collins spotted a still, silent object surrounded by debris laying in the middle of the floor. Smoke blocked direct sight to the figure, but with all hopes of it being the chief, Collins raced for it. He was now alone, his partner found another victim barely breathing and brought him down. "Chief, chief wake up! Is that you?" He shook what he could now understand was a uniformed body, and had no doubt it was Ritchie. "Sergeant, I found Chief!!" Collins yelled extremely loud into the pager, looking for any help to get his chief out of this danger zone. He felt the floor sinking under his feet. Not wanting to know if it was his adrenaline, fear, or something physical, he blocked it out and pulled on the body he found. He pulled and pulled, eventually joined by three other men who helped greatly.
The four men worked as a team, but felt their hearts stop beating as the eerie sound of melted medal clashing filled their ears. All together, and holding on to the chief, they grabbed the nearest and most sturdy thing they could find. The officers all felt the floors falling one at a time. It was like the world stopped, it was the day the skies darkened.
