Chapter 21 — Summer Rescuer

The regional hydro-meteorological station issued a tropical depression warning on Wednesday, forecasting it will strengthen into a storm within the next forty-eight hours, with a direction that is likely to directly affect the Duong Xanh waters at the weekend - right at the time of a big event planned many months ago: the summer Sea Music Festival, with the participation of many famous artists, expected to attract thousands of tourists over the three-day weekend.

Trong Nghi convened an emergency meeting of the rescue team as soon as he received the news. “We need to propose canceling or postponing the event,” he said, his voice filled with concern. "With the current abnormal flow situation in the Mui Sa Den area, combined with large waves and strong winds from low pressure, the risk of accidents will increase many times."

Bach Duong, although he had officially received the transfer decision, still had three days before leaving Duong Xanh, nodded in agreement. "I will rerun the flow forecast model incorporating the latest storm data. But in my experience, when strong winds combine with existing revetment structures, reflected flows can reach levels twice as dangerous as what we have previously recorded."

Trong Nghi immediately sent an urgent document to the District Committee, proposing to postpone the event or at least move the organization area away from the dangerous area near the breakwater. But the response received, just a few hours later, left the entire team indignant.

"The district committee decided to still organize the event as planned," Trong Nghi read the response text aloud to the whole team, his voice shaking with anger. "The reason given: the contract with the sponsors has been signed, canceling the event will cause serious economic damage and affect the district's reputation. They only agreed to strengthen the rescue force and asked us to 'proactively respond' if an incident occurs."

“That's exactly how they always handle things,” Thao Nhi said, her voice filled with bitterness. "Put all the responsibility and risk down on us, while they still profit from the event."

Bach Duong, after completing the prediction model, brought the results to present to the whole team, his face was unusually serious. "According to my calculations, if the storm makes landfall as predicted, around Saturday evening — right at the climax of the festival — the current speed in the most dangerous area could reach two and a half meters per second. At that level, no good swimmer, no matter how experienced, would be able to free himself if caught in it."

The whole meeting room was silent before that scary number. Nhat Quynh, his face pale, spoke up, his voice trembling. "So what should we do? We cannot let thousands of people swim in those conditions."

“We will do everything in our power,” Trong Nghi said, his voice regaining the decisiveness of an experienced commander. "I will ask the district to maximize volunteer rescue forces, erect more physical warning fences around dangerous areas, and if necessary, we will arbitrarily close that area regardless of instructions, even if we have to be responsible for disciplinary action later."

Mr. Kiet stood up, his face full of determination. "I support that decision, even if it means losing my job. Human life is more important than any administrative regulations."

The whole team nodded in agreement, a strong solidarity formed in the midst of danger. Thao Nhi felt a deep sense of pride when looking around at her teammates — ordinary people, without power or money, but willing to put the lives of others above their own professional safety.

Trong Nghi spent the remaining afternoon making a detailed response plan, dividing duty areas for each person, determining where to place additional life buoys, and contacting the rescue team of the neighboring town to ask for assistance in case of need. Mr. Thi and Nhat Quynh were assigned to erect large warning signs in Vietnamese and English along the area near the embankment, while Do Gia Lam was in charge of checking all cables, life buoys, and emergency medical equipment to ensure everything was in the highest state of readiness.

Thao Nhi, while checking the list of personnel on duty on a storm night, couldn't help but remember the story Mr. Dat once told about the storms he had experienced during his forty years as a rescue professional. "Storms are not the most terrifying enemy," he once told her. "The most terrifying enemy is human subjectivity in the face of the power of nature, especially when that nature has been interfered with and deformed by human hands." That sentence now echoed in her head with an even heavier meaning than ever, when she thought about how humans, because of greed, had turned an ordinary storm into a double threat.

She called her mother, telling her to close the shop early and absolutely not go to the area near the beach for the next two days. "Mom, just stay home and lock the door carefully," she said. "I will call often to give you peace of mind."

"You're the one I'm most worried about," Mrs. Hoa replied, her voice shaking over the phone. "Remember to keep yourself safe first, Nhi. I can't bear another loss."

"I promise to be careful, mom," Thao Nhi replied, even though in her heart she was not completely sure about what tomorrow would bring.

That afternoon, Viet Ha called to announce that her investigative article had been approved by the editorial office, scheduled to be published on Saturday morning - ironically coinciding with the day the storm was forecast to make landfall. “I think we should post sooner than expected,” she said over the phone, her voice urgent. "If the article had been published before the storm arrived, at least the public would have been fully warned about the true level of danger, instead of just relying on vague announcements from the district."

"Do you think that will make them cancel the event?" Thao Nhi asked, even though she didn't have much hope in her heart.

"It probably won't change their decision in time," Viet Ha admitted, "but at least, if something happens, no one will be able to say the public wasn't warned in advance."

Friday night, when the first dark clouds began to roll in from the sea, bringing gusts of wind that signaled the approaching storm, Thao Nhi stood on the watchtower, looking down at the beach still crowded with tourists enjoying the last moments before the weather turned harsh. The festival stage had been set up, the bright lights testing for tomorrow's performance, a complete contrast to the anxious atmosphere surrounding the rescue team.

Bach Duong came to her, brought two cups of hot coffee, and gave her one. "Do you think we are prepared enough?" he asked, his voice unable to hide the worry.

"I don't know if it will ever be enough when faced with a storm combined with such a dangerous artificial current," Thao Nhi replied, looking out at the sea that was gradually turning gray under the overcast sky. "But I know we've done everything in our power. Now, it's just a matter of waiting and being ready."

Bach Duong grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly as if to give her more strength. "No matter what tomorrow brings, I will be here, with you, until everything is over."

Thao Nhi leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat beating steadily under her shirt, and in that rare moment of calm before the storm, she prayed, not only for the safety of those who would be on the beach tomorrow, but also for her own team, who were about to face the biggest challenge of this tumultuous summer.

"Are you scared," she asked softly, "knowing you'll have to leave here tomorrow, right in the middle of things being at their most tense?"

Bach Duong was silent for a moment, squeezing her hand tighter. "I'm afraid, but not because of myself. I'm afraid that if I leave at this time, there won't be anyone else with enough expertise to properly read the current numbers during the storm, to give a timely warning to your team. But I've also decided — even though the transfer decision takes effect from tomorrow, I won't leave Duong Xanh until this storm passes. They can discipline me later, but I won't leave you and the team behind in the most dangerous moment."

That promise warmed Thao Nhi's heart amid the overwhelming atmosphere of anxiety. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and love that was no longer hidden. "Thank you," she whispered, "for choosing to stay, even though it might get you into more trouble with your superiors."

"There are things more important than a job position," Bach Duong replied, leaning down to gently kiss her forehead. "You, and everyone here, are much more important than that."