Marcos! You can't risk going out there. The wind speed is gusting to over seventy miles per hour." Andrea's voice carried across the dining hall as Marcos, Ramos, and Dominic all headed towards the exterior doors.

The call had just come through. The soup kitchen was in peril. Dozens of lives were at stake. Not only that, but Marcos' omega was trapped inside. Screw Andrea's warnings and protocols, there was no way he was going to wait for even another second.

Apparently, there were plenty of others that shared his opinion. The crews of several other boats were also preparing to head out. If they worked together, moving everyone to safety would take no time at all. Which was good because that's probably all the time they had.

"We've waited long enough, Andrea. At some point we've got to do the jobs we volunteered to do," Marcos said as he reached the front doors. "The buildings on Main Street may be able to stand up to the flooding, but the soup kitchen is ancient. Now that the floodwaters are that high we're out of time. I need you to do your job and help us coordinate the evacuation."

Andrea looked like she was going to protest, but instead she simply nodded and returned to the maps she had spread out across the table.

The wind and the rain violently assaulted the would-be rescuers as they streamed out of the building and jogged across the front lawn of the presidential residence.

The sky was angry, covered with clouds, and the inky darkness of night made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. Marcos was grateful that he had remembered to pack his headlamp, its powerful beam of light cut a path forward and allowed him a glimpse of the destruction the storm had wrought upon them thus far.

Palm trees bent almost in half under the wind's abuse. Palm fronds, branches, and other vegetation were scattered across the ground. Bits of wood and unidentifiable debris littered the long driveway that lead up to the residence.

They were a little over halfway down the drive when they encountered the floodwater. The small boats and rafts they had left at the foot of the driveway bobbed along the water's surface still more than a dozen yards away. They had been anchored in place to allow them to rise with the flood but not drift away. No one had expected the water to get quite this high though.

Without even thinking, Marcos began stripping down his outer layers and pressing them into Dominic's arms.

"Keep my clothes dry," he instructed. His single minded determination had quickly decided that he was likely to be the strongest swimmer in the group. All he had to do was make it to the nearest of the rafts. The boats all had tow lines hooked together as further assurance against losing one of them.

The rest of the volunteers were beginning to gather at the water's edge as Marcos plunged into its depths. Some logical part of his mind was telling him that he was insane. The angry current of the flood was faster than he had anticipated. He knew that if he relaxed for even a second he would be swept past the rafts and out into the darkness. If that happened, he was probably as good as dead.

Marcos reached the nearest raft and caught hold. Lugging himself up out of the water took more effort than he cared to admit. Just that short swim had already exhausted him, but the cheers from his companions on shore were enough to remind him of his true purpose. The outboard motor on the raft started with ease, and once it was engaged it easily powered the craft towards the shoreline.

As soon as it was in reach, the waiting volunteers grabbed hold. Within a few minutes they had towed the rest of the rafts to safety as well.

Marcos shimmied back into his mostly dry clothes, thankful for some shelter from the biting wind.

"Get to the larger boats as quickly as possible," instructed Marcos as everyone piled into their rafts. "Work with the current where you can, but stay alert. Post someone in the bow as a spotter. Stay safe!"

With Dominic and Ramos firmly secured, Marcos let the current carry them back out into the main flood.

Even as a seasoned captain, Marcos struggled to pilot his way forward. His experiences on the open ocean didn't translate well to what was almost certainly like white water rafting. Only it was dark and the wind continued to carry large objects towards them without warning.

They had parked the shallow water boat one street over from the soup kitchen. It had been left sitting on its trailer, free floating, anchored to a tree. Marcos had been against the idea of leaving the boats around the town so far away from the base of operations. Andrea, however, had insisted that it would make it easier to dispatch crews and avoid unnecessary crowding along Main Street.

Next time something like this happened, Marcos would insist on having his way. The thought of other, less experienced, crews trying to navigate these floodwaters made him sick to his stomach. If they had just been able to reach the larger vessels more quickly, the risk would've been much less. As it was, their raft was constantly battered around by the wind and current. More than once they found themselves colliding with barely submerged debris or vehicles.

When they finally reached the spot that they had left the boat, Marcos swore.

The water level was already up to the second story on most of the buildings. Several roofs had been carried away by the wind. The boat, miraculously, had barely managed to avoid getting buried beneath a roof that had been dropped onto the tree it was anchored to.

The street that the soup kitchen was on sat a few feet higher than this one. The water likely hadn't reached its second floor yet, but there was no telling how long the old building would actually hold on to its foundation.

The three man crew quickly switched vessels. The raft was haphazardly tied off to some debris before Marcos turned them towards the end of the street. The more powerful engine allowed them to work against the current with ease. The massive floodlight on the front of the boat illuminated their path and highlighted potential obstacles.

Within minutes, they were in view of the soup kitchen. One of the smaller boats had arrived just ahead of them and was already positioned up against the second story windows. They wouldn't be able to take many, but every little bit helped.

The groans of the soup kitchen were audible from several yards away. The old building was losing its fight.

Marcos maneuvered the boat up right behind the first. He kept the motor running, battling against the current. If the worst happened and the building broke free while they were still unloading people, he didn't want to risk being anchored to it.

What little of his attention he could spare was directed back to the refugees being loaded into the boat. Dominic and Ramos were doing the best they could to pack everyone in safely. Children and babies were crying. People were scared. Yet Marcos' only concern was for Raphael. He couldn't see or hear the little omega in the crowd.

The little boat ahead of them had finished loading. It piloted away from the soup kitchen and off towards the direction of the high school. According to Andrea's radioed directions, the high school was the closest shelter most prepared to receive a large influx of new arrivals. Yet, Marcos estimated it would still take at least ten minutes to get there in these conditions.

Thankfully, the other rescue crafts had begun to arrive.

"We're full!" shouted Dominic over the howls of the wind.

Marcos glanced back prepared to tell them to pack more people in, but they clearly already had. There wasn't an inch of room left and among the passengers there was no sign of Raphael. As frustrated as he was, he couldn't spare the time to sit and worry about it. He had to hurry.

Carefully, he pulled the boat out onto the street and radioed back to Andrea that he was taking his passengers to the high school.

"We're going to divert you to the church," Andrea radioed back.

"That's on the other side of the damn island!" Marcos growled into the radio. "I've got the largest vessel out here. We need to unload those people as quickly as possible." He defiantly turned the boat down the street towards the high school.

"The high school can only take so many, we've got to spread them out or we'll be putting too much strain on their resources," protested Andrea.

"We can move them around as much as we want once they're safe!" Marcos was at the end of his patience. He'd hoped that Andrea would see reason, but it seemed like her tactical ability didn't survive contact with reality. She was good at seeing the big picture, but didn't seem able to process the insight she received from those under her command.

"It will be a better use of manpower if you just follow my instructions." Andrea too sounded like she was through with his insubordination.

Marcos wasn't going to waste another minute on this conversation. "All units," he barked over the radio, "evacuate all civilians from the soup kitchen and take them to the high school. We'll deal with the logistics later. All that matters now is getting them out of there alive."

Choruses of "Roger" and "Affirmative" echoed over the radio. Strangely enough, there was no reply from Andrea after that.

Marcos didn't have time to worry about her feelings. The storm was beginning to die down, but the floodwaters were still rising.

The path to the high school was littered with destruction. Several homes had been torn off their foundations and crashed into their neighbors. Many more had lost their roofs. The traditional Spanish houses, many of which dated back to the original colonization of the island, still seemed to stand strong. Their brick walls had weathered a thousand storms and would likely weather a thousand more. Their solidarity somehow gave Marcos a glimmer of hope. Not everything would be lost in the wake of this storm.

The high school sat on a hill near the edge of town. The long rolling slope emerged from the floodwaters like an island. Huge flood lights had been erected across the school grounds and the sound of the generators powering them roared over the wind. The first boat had already finished offloading its passengers and was on its way back by the time they arrived.

Marcos allowed the boat to drift up against the hill and kept the motor running to prevent the current from carrying them away. Dominic and Ramos quickly began unloading the refugees that they had carried to safety. Volunteers from the high school were already on site with blankets, ushering the new arrivals to safety.

As soon as they had finished unloading, Marcos turned the boat back towards the soup kitchen.

"Marcos!" Teddy's voice crackled over the radio. "The pontoon is high centered on something. We can't get free."

Marcos swore, he really didn't need this right now. He was desperate to get back to the soup kitchen and find Raphael. But the pontoon was the second largest boat on the water tonight. If it was full of passengers then the only one capable of taking all of them in a timely manner was Marcos.

"Where are you?" Marcos radioed back. As much as he hated it, he was going to have to put this ahead of his own desires. He glanced back at Ramos and Dominic who were huddled just inside the wheelhouse with him. They nodded in agreement. The three of them were of one mind on this. No matter how much they would have wished it otherwise.

They quickly located the pontoon. The water obscured whatever it was they had managed to get stuck on. Marcos was hopeful that it could be pulled free, but the last thing he wanted to do was put anyone in more danger. It took several minutes to transfer Teddy, his crew, and his passengers all onto Marcos' boat. Every minute that passed only added to the frustration hammering through Marcos' veins.

As soon as everyone was secure, they attached a towline and Marcos pointed the boat back towards the high school. The pontoon bounced free after just a little effort, but switching passengers between boats was too risky to do a second time. They were forced to go all the way back to the high school and offload everyone there.

By now, a steady stream of refugees was being unloaded from the rescue boats. As far as Marcos could tell, everyone had made at least one trip thus far. There couldn't have been that many people left in the building.

Eager to be on his way once more, Marcos revved the engines and sped back as quickly as he dared. The rain had all but stopped now. The wind was still blowing, but much of the bite was gone from it. The worst of the storm had passed them by, but it would be hours, maybe even days, before the floodwaters completely receded.

The threat was far from over.

As the soup kitchen came into view once more, Marcos caught sight of a single boat loaded down with refugees as it pulled away from the building. Standing in the window, he could see a handful of people left behind.

"Home stretch!" shouted the driver of the other boat as they passed. "You should be able to get them all in one go."

Marcos' heartbeat pounded in his ears. The groans of the old soup kitchen hadn't let up, and the water level was just below the second story windows now. Yet, standing there just inside the window, huddled between several other people, was Raphael.

"Miguel!' Dominic shouted as the boat reached the window.

"Logan!" Ramos sounded similarly distressed to find that his omega had also waited until the last boat.

"These damn boys of yours just wouldn't go," muttered the elderly looking woman that Marcos vaguely recognized as the owner of the soup kitchen. She climbed onto the boat without assistance.

Slowly, the few remaining refugees clambered aboard, all save for Raphael.

"Raphael!" shouted Marcos, locking eyes with the terrified omega as he continued to struggle against the current. "What are you waiting for?"

"Raphael, come on, you'll be safe with us!" Logan was stretching out a hand towards him, but Raphael seemed paralyzed in fear.

"Dominic," Marcos shouted back towards his fellow alpha. Of all the people on the boat right now, Dominic was the only one he knew for certain could handle the helm of the boat. "Take the wheel!"

Without argument, Dominic switched places with him. Free at last, Marcos reached out and grabbed hold of the window directly in front of Raphael.

"I thought you hated water," he said, trying to sound conversational despite the urgency of the situation.

"I...I do." Raphael barely moved as he met Marcos' gaze.

"It's dry on the boat," Marcos said reaching out with one hand towards Raphael. "I promise you'll be safe."

"There's so much water, Marcos. I can't breathe." It was clear he was having a panic attack. Despite the water lapping at his legs and threat of the soup kitchen's collapse, he clearly couldn't bring himself to move.

"I've got you," said Marcos. "I won't let anything happen." He stepped through the window and took Raphael's hands in his own. "I just need you to trust me."