New Orleans, Louisiana.
August 28th, 2005.
This just in from the National Weather Service. Baton Rouge, La...
Hurricane Katrina expected to make landfall, early A.M. This is the second landfall, and more powerful than the first. Beaches are closed. Evacuation recommended. Repeat... Evacuation recommended.

Luke sat in his patrol car, listening to the weather reports, and watching the lightning shoot across the skies. The winds had already started picking up, and other than a few stubborn locals, all that was in his immediate area were different news crews and national news networks. He was told to watch them, and move them should the area get too dangerous.

?Boudreux, how?s the babysittin? goin, pod nah?? Baleford?s voice came over the radio.

?Why you don?t pass by to have a look, non?? Luke asked with his guttural Cajun.

?What time it is?? Baleford asked, and Luke checked the clock in his patrol unit.

?Tree in th? A.M. Time your wife expectin? me, Pod,? Luke laughed in jest, and other units keyed up their laughter as well at the other man?s expense.

?Too bad for you, Boudreux, quittin? time.? Baleford said with a laugh, ?Where put dis book??

?Leave it on the desk, I?ll get it when I get back to post, 258 Clear.? Luke hung the mic back on the pegs and watched the reporters as they pointed out over ink black of the Gulf.

They seemed to have no fear of the approaching storm, and in all his life, he?d never seen one as big as the one heading for them. Cantore was out for the Weather Channel, already in his waterproof gear, with his swim goggles on top of his head, looking serious as he talked to the camera. Another glance toward the flash of lightning, and Luke crossed himself.

?Let us make it through dis one, Lordy.? He said quietly as he pulled away from the hotel parking lot on route to check the next group of reporters.

?Coooh, look at de size of dat storm!? One of the locals said as they showed the radar at his house. ?I ain? lookin? again, it?s jus? another one, we goin? to th? party??

06:10,
Buras-Triumph, Louisiana.

From the National Weather Service, Baton Rouge, La...
Katrina has made landfall, Category 3. 125 MPH winds, extending 120 Miles from the eye. Central Pressure, 920Mbar.
----------
07:00
--Update--
Third Landfall, after passing Breton Sound. La. Ms. Border. Category 3, 120 MPH Sustained Winds. Caution with 28 Ft. Storm Surge.

--Rebooting from server--
Time Out.
Trying Again___

Luke stared at the computer screen in his patrol vehicle, and at the wind and rain outside the vehicle. The storm hit with more force than anyone thought it would.

The National Hurricane Center had claimed that New Orleans was in the path for a direct hit, and he believed it the way the streets started to flood and the wind blew and rocked his vehicle.

He already had to go and chase some of the storm watchers back inside, and was positively soaked for his effort. The Big Easy, his city was mostly below sea level, and a storm like this, was on a cataclysmic scale for damage estimates.

Buckle down, Boudreux, it?s here.

Breaking News

10:00, New Orleans, Louisiana.

Mayor Ray Nagin ordered first-ever mandatory evac of the City, calling Katrina ?a storm most of us have long feared.? Govt. to set up refuges of last resort, for citizens that can not leave, including Superdome.


?Too little, too late.? Luke said as he started hearing of the levees giving way. The floods came, and with it, the fear, the crime, the dead, and scared living.

Luke watched the military choppers land with interest. The men would empty from the helicopters and immediately load into the transports, all wearing their battle gear, all armed with M16 Rifles.

?They goin? to war??

?Luke, with all the carjackin, murders, thefts, and rapin?, I wish I had me one o? them rifles.? Baleford said as he put another wad of tobacco into his cheek.

?Remington 880 scattah gun not destructive enough for you, Pod?? Luke asked, and found himself answered with a dirty look. ?How do they know which side they are on??

?Don?t break curfew outside your unit, and you won?t have to deal with them, Pod nah.?

Due to flooding, fires, and upset locals, the drive to his house, normally fifteen minutes from the airport, took him over an hour and a half. The patrol unit was parked in the garage to insure no vandalism to his house, or the unit, as people?s anger was off the charts. They felt cheated, left behind, and at the bottom of the list for any sort of aid.

FEMA had come through and set up tiny trailers for people whose homes were destroyed, and they went from small houses, to smaller trailers, with an air conditioner that would only work if they were at the North Pole.

He turned the television on, after firing up the generator, and flopped back into his recliner, staring at the images on the screen. The Governor was even on National News, talking about the arrival of troops with their weapons locked, loaded and authorized to shoot to kill. He sighed and shook his head as he cracked open a beer and hit the speed dial on his cell phone.

?Hello?? Luke almost shrank into his chair when the man answered.

?Hey, Dad,? Luke said. ?How is everything up there, I heard Slidell was hit.?

?We are fine, your Ma and I.?

?Step Ma,? Luke corrected, after all the woman was barely older than him, ?Dad, I didn?t call to fight, you are okay? Any damage??

The man on the other end sighed. ?Lost the roof on the guest house.? Luke could hear the tinkling sound of ice in a glass, and knew it was the old man?s nightcap Aberfeldy and water.

?Well, that?s covered by insurance, yeah??

?Yeah,? he answered after a swallow.

?Dad, can you do...?

?You saw the damage to the Regency, too much going into repairing that, only to sit and wait to see if people return. Damned thieves and murderers, stealing everything in that building that weren?t nailed down. Where were you?? His dad?s anger swelled, and Luke shook his head, knowing that he shouldn?t have called.

?I was down here, in the middle of it, doing my damn job.? Luke said cooly.

?Your job?? the old man laughed. ?You never had to work, you chose to be a cop, and failed to protect MY Building!?

?Your building? What about all the other buildings? What about the people who lost everything? What about the heart of New Orleans that still thrums beneath the madness of her people? You know what.... Go to hell.? Luke snapped the phone shut and tossed it into the chair beside him, as he lifted his hand to run the sweat from his brow, up through his short, cropped hair. ?Rotten ?ol Bastard.?