Chapter 20 — Summer Rescuer

That weekend coincided with the mid-summer holiday, bringing a record number of tourists to Duong Xanh — according to district committee estimates, nearly twice as many as on regular weekends. Duong Beach is filled with people from early morning, rows of colorful umbrellas cover the sand, children's laughter mixes with music emanating from coastal service counters.

The rescue team mobilized all human resources, including preliminarily trained volunteers to assist in monitoring crowded areas. Thao Nhi, although her mind was still heavy from the overwhelming events of last week, was forced to put all personal worries aside to focus completely on the task at hand.

Near noon, when the sun was at its peak and the number of people swimming at the beach reached its highest level of the day, an unexpected situation occurred right in the area near the "Diamond Gate of Heaven" - a place that continues to attract a large number of tourists despite all warnings. A large group of tourists, perhaps more than twenty people from the same vacation company, were gathering for a group photo right on the stone steps near the top of the embankment.

At that moment, an unusually large wave - a direct consequence of the reflected flow that had been warned many times - crashed into the terrace area with unprecedented force, causing nearly a dozen people in the group to lose their balance, some immediately fell into the water, others trampled each other in panic in an effort to avoid the wave.

"Emergency rescue! Many victims at the embankment area!" Thao Nhi shouted into the radio as soon as she saw the chaotic scene from the watchtower, her voice sharp in the critical moment.

This is the most serious situation that the Bai Duong rescue team has faced in many years - not just one or two victims, but up to seven or eight people falling into the most dangerous waters in the area at the same time. The entire team, including those on duty in other areas, immediately shifted to rescue.

Thao Nhi dove into the water first, her eyes quickly scanning the struggling crowd to identify those most in danger — usually children, the elderly, or those who appeared most panicked. She saw a middle-aged woman struggling, her hands waving aimlessly, clearly not knowing how to swim, and rushed to help immediately.

Anh Kiet, Anh Thi, Nhat Quynh and Do Gia Lam from the northern region also quickly arrived, each person in charge of approaching a different group of victims according to the carefully trained prioritization process. Trong Nghi stood on the shore, taking overall command via radio, coordinating each rescue with the experienced calm of someone who has experienced countless emergency situations throughout his career.

Bach Duong, although no longer officially in charge of surveying this area after the transfer decision is about to take effect, is still present at the scene as a volunteer, using his knowledge of currents to guide the safest swimming direction for each rescue group via radio communication with Trong Nghi.

"The current is strongest northeast of the third junction!" he shouted loudly, his eyes fixed on the violently swirling water. "Avoid that direction, take the victim in through the southern detour!"

The rescue took place in nearly twenty minutes of extreme tension, with every passing second carrying the risk that a life could be swallowed by the water. Thao Nhi, after bringing the first woman to safety, immediately returned to the water to provide additional support. Her body was almost exhausted but her will was unwavering.

In the end, all the victims were brought to shore safely - a feat that anyone who witnessed it must admit was thanks to the professional and unhesitating coordination of the entire rescue team, although two people had to be taken to the emergency room for severe choking and one person suffered a minor leg injury from hitting a reef.

That chaotic scene, with nearly a dozen victims at the same time, hundreds of tourists witnessing, and dozens of people taking videos with their phones, became an event that could not be hidden or minimized like previous times. That same afternoon, videos recording the horrifying scene began to spread on social networks at breakneck speed, accompanied by a series of angry comments about the safety of the "Diamond Heaven's Gate" area.

Amid the storm of public opinion that was forming, a strange car parked in front of the rescue station late in the afternoon, and a young woman, dressed neatly, carrying a camera and notebook, got out and introduced herself as Duong Viet Ha, an investigative reporter for the provincial newspaper.

"I contacted Mr. Duong several times by phone," she said, shaking Thao Nhi's hand with a professional attitude but eyes full of sincere concern. "After seeing the news about this afternoon's incident spread, I decided to come down here immediately instead of waiting until the weekend as originally planned."

In the station's small meeting room, Thao Nhi, Bach Duong, and Trong Nghi presented Viet Ha with the whole story — from the first records of the unusual flow, to Bach Duong's technical report, old newspaper pages confirming the connection between Cung Nghia Phat and Cat Bien Phu Vinh, Mr. Dat's testimony, and even recent retaliation events targeting Thao Nhi's family.

Viet Ha listened attentively, took notes constantly, and occasionally asked sharp questions to clarify every detail. When they finished, she put down her pen, her eyes filled with determination.

“This is a big story,” she said, her voice serious. "It's not just a simple construction safety issue, it's a story of justice delayed for eight years, of a pattern of purposefully repeated behavior. I'll need a few more days to independently verify some of the details, interview more witnesses, but I'm confident my newspaper will agree to publish a series of investigative articles on this matter."

"How soon can the article be published?" Thao Nhi asked, her voice was both hopeful and worried.

"If everything goes well, maybe within a week," Viet Ha replied. "But I need you to be mentally prepared — once the article is published, the pressure from Mr. Phat and those involved will likely escalate even more, before everything has a chance to be completely resolved."

Thao Nhi looked around the meeting room, looked at Bach Duong, Trong Nghi, and thought of the whole team waiting outside, of her mother, of Mr. Dat, of Uncle Long — everyone who had come to this point with her. She took a deep breath, feeling both the weight and power of the decision ahead.

"We're prepared," she said, her voice ringing with determination. "It's time for the truth to be told, no matter the cost."

Viet Ha nodded, packed her notebook and camera into her bag. "I will need to take photos of all the documents you have - copies of old newspapers, measurement data, records from the town police. I also want to interview Mr. Dat and Thao Nhi's mother directly, if they agree. The more independent sources of confirmation, the harder it is for the article to be refuted."

"I will arrange it," Thao Nhi replied. "But Ms. Viet Ha, I need to ask directly - are you scared, when you accept to write a story that could touch such powerful people?"

Viet Ha smiled, a smile mixed with professional fatigue and the determination of someone who had chosen this path a long time ago. "I have written about many similar stories, Thao Nhi. Some posts were successful, some were shelved due to pressure from many sides. But I believe, if we don't write them down, no one else will. And a child nearly drowned, a father who died while saving someone and was falsely accused of carelessness - those are not stories I can turn away and ignore."

After Viet Ha left, promising to come back on the weekend for more interviews, Bach Duong turned to Thao Nhi and held her hand. “Things are accelerating faster than I thought,” he said, his voice both worried and a little relieved. "But I think this is necessary. We cannot wait for another serious incident to act."

"I just hope," Thao Nhi said, her voice low, "that when the truth is revealed, it will come at the right time, not after another tragedy."

Outside the lifeguard station window, the sunset dyed the sky in a brilliant red-orange color, and in the distance, the sound of waves still steadily lapping against the shore, bringing both danger and hope for the coming days of that summer.

Trong Nghi, standing quietly watching Viet Ha's car disappear on the coastal road, turned to them both with eyes that were both serious and rarely warm. "Four seasons of this summer have passed, and we've come a long way than I dared hope when the season began. But I want you two to remember, the hardest part is still ahead. Once the article is published, there will be no going back for any of us." He patted both of their shoulders, then turned back to the station to prepare for the night shift, leaving Thao Nhi and Bach Duong standing there, hand in hand, looking at the horizon where the sun was gradually disappearing.