Flame receded. And suddenly it's all gone.
- Well, we have athletes in each division a lot
Sitting on his haunches, David took mitten fingers rubbed glass mask. Pena reached his knee and slowly continued to rise. He felt the hand joint. Then the door. With barely opened it. Again saw the fire quite close to me, but then he disappeared under a layer of foam pouring into the room. More fire in the room was not. "So, it's the office." Moved further along the wall. Hot rubber masks burned cheeks, forehead. He lowered his face down to the foam cooled the mask ...
Here is a burning room. David just glanced at her; a small room was entirely crimson, like a locomotive firebox. Recoiling at a joint, it is deeply, as if to leap into the water, breathing warm air is unpleasant smelling rubber: satchel firefighter has already hot. "We need to stand up to his full height to blow up at the ceiling supply room, or not put out the flames at the top." But he continued to sit in indecision, his legs would not obey. Then he shouted to himself: "Every second counts! Near ammo! Get up! "He sat bolt upright, raised foam generator and made one small, but such a difficult step.
How stood face to face with the fire, David remembered. Already falling, felt the side of a stream of water hit, and knocking the fire. Hands comrades picked up, they took it.
On the street, sitting under the wall of the building, he had long considered their swollen hands, trying to touch her cheeks burned. For some reason it seemed that everything that happened did not happen to him, and another guy, whom he knew well, and very much worried about it. It would be sad for the guy, if he had not managed a difficult time coping with his fear. "So this is what you can do, my friend, - referring to the fact the second, thought David. - Good. Do not disappoint and on ... "
- To get acquainted with your documents, guardsman. Well, just an eagle! In another way, you will not name. - Head of an independent paramilitary firehouse grinned. - Various thanks and encouragement - the fingers are countless. Yes, Master of Sports...
This conversation took place in the spring, when David left in stock.
- We are just guys like you need. In which you want the guard?
David thought for a moment:
- Perhaps, one where more love sports.