Sloan Kilson was awakened by her pager from her sleep, one week from Christmas. For her line of work as a SAR dog handler, (among her other NASAR fields), she was on-call, on-duty, 24/7. She looked at her flashing message from her Motorola's pager's LSD display. The page was from NASAR headquarters, and her boss, Dorian Nolte. She needed to call her at work, before she headed to work to grab her equipment, and to head out to the scene. read, that it was for a couple of urgent emergency 'Amber Alerts'. " On her pager, in bold print, an "Amber Alert" message was flashing and blinking on the LSD display, with many exclamation points. She sighed and grabbed her cell phone, and dialed her work phone number.
She also woke up her fiancé of one-and-a-half-years, and her trusting dog, who lay between them. Her dog, “Flash”, a gray-and-white colored Greyhound, that she rescued from retirement from greyhound dog racing, with the Save the Greyhound Federation, for the past four years. He stirred, and yawned, at 8:00 A.M., on December 18th, 2002. Her fiancé, Nolan, stretched and started to wake up. As she called the dispatch system of the ICS, (Incident Command System), she sat up on her bed, and looked at the window from her bedroom on that cold winter morning.
When she got through, she yawned, sighed, and had gotten ready to speak. “Hello. I’ve got your page”, Sloan Kilson said.
“Sloan, this is Dorian. We need you to show up at work, immediately. It’s an emergency”, her boss and close friend, Dorian Nolte said.
“Dori, I understand, that the page was for a super-dooper emergency ‘Amber Alerts’”, Sloan replied back to her with tired eyes. “What’s going on?”
“An elementary school bus disappeared from a class field trip, sometime yesterday morning, and never returned, carrying a little over two dozen kindergartners.” She paused. “I’ll give you the rest of the details when you get here, ASAP.”
She gasped. “Ohmigosh. I’ll be here as soon as I can, Dori. You can count on me.”
“Good. And don’t forget Flash. We need him too.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
“We’ve contacted the local police departments here in Fairfax County, along with the FBI. Nolan should get a call, right about now, for this trans-agency case.”
“I’m pretty sure, that he’ll get a buzz. I’ll see you there.” Sloan hung up the phone. She removed the sheets, and got out of their bed. She started to head for the bathroom.
Nolan McKenna, Sloan’s fiancé, moved too, and looked at her. “Sloan, what’s going on?”
“Yesterday morning, an elementary school bus here in Fairfax County, was enroute to go to a class field trip, and had disappeared with a little over two dozen kindergartners. You should get a call soon, if your pager’s on”, Sloan explained to him.
“Ohmigod. It’s turned off. I’ll call work at Richmond.”
“I’m going to take a quick shower. Can you feed Flash for me?”
“Sure. But what about ‘Bolts’?” Bolts was her other dog, a bloodhound, who was on rest, for working too hard, with a liver-and-tan coating. She also had him for four years.
“He needs to rest. But I’ll might need him later.”
Nolan nodded, and was off their bed. Flash shortly followed Nolan to the kitchen, and was simply excited about his next search-and-rescue mission. He can tell by looking at Sloan's face, specially when he hears his name being mentioned in a SAR case, and wears his SAR orange vest around him. Sloan headed to the master bathroom, and quickly undressed.
Sloan Kilson was a twenty-eight-year-old NASAR master dog handler, and main search-and-rescue (SAR) team leader. NASAR was an acronym for the National Association of Search and Rescue, that was headquartered in Chantilly, Virginia. She worked in the third region of the NASAR SAR dog section regional representatives. She was born and raised in Chantilly, where she now lived and worked, in a town populated by four thousand people. She had worked with NASAR for the past seven years, and had been master dog handler for six years, including being main SAR team leader, the head searcher, and a cave rescuer, winter rescuer, rope rescuer, and water rescuer, too, that was she all certified in, since they all shared the same classes in all seven areas of fields. She started to work as volunteer, within her first year, before moving up to having a paid job with NASAR.
NASAR was a nonprofit, volunteer organization for people, like Sloan, have many paid regular NASAR jobs in an office. Sloan pushed back her medium-lengthed chestnut brown mane of hair, and looked into the mirror, with her deep chocolate brown eyes. She was slim and lean, and still physically fit, at her weight of 120 pounds, and height of 5’8’. She had an English background, with Celtic, Irish, Scottish, and Gaelic origins. She took off her engagement ring, and placed it on the sink’s soap dish, where she knows where she can find it, after she takes her shower, and washes her hair. She stepped into the bathtub, turned the water on and adjusted the knobs to lukewarm. Once the water was at the right temperature, she turned the shower knob on, and stood underneath the cascading water massage her body, as she began to wash her hair. She sighed, and began thinking of this present case, and assigned SAR mission of hers, with the missing twenty-six kindergartners. She was completely baffled by it all.
Nolan grabbed Flash’s water and dog food bowls. He gave him water and dogfood. Then, he headed back to their master bathroom, and joined Sloan in the bathroom to get dressed. He grabbed his nicely cleaned and ironed work clothes from the closet hangers, and took them off, as he started to put on his underwear.
Besides this joint case, that she was now assigned to and working on, she had a lot of other things on her mind. For example, like finally planning their wedding day date, after three postponements, last minute Christmas shopping and wrapping, and getting ready for their first Christmas party, at their place on 345 Autumn Vale Court, that coming up weekend.
Nolan McKenna was also twenty-eight-years-old, and worked with the FBI’s Missing Persons Unit in Richmond, which was an hour-and-half commute from there, for the past six-and-a-half years, after six months with the Leesburg Police Department in Fairfax County, before converting and joining the FBI. He brushed back his short black locks of hair, and looked at the master bathroom’s mirror with his blue eyes. He was average for his height of six feet even, and weighed 210 pounds, with plenty of muscles and fat. He also had Celtic, Irish, Gaelic and Scottish origins in his background too.
He stood in their master bathroom, that was painted and decorated with a desert motif, with the walls painted in a light orange, from a sun setting in the sky. The valance and curtains were made from an almost frilly, lacey chenille fabric in a pale yellow color, that reminds them of the sun. Some fake and real cactuses were displayed in there, with some of the cactuses that had blossomed with flowers. It had reminded them of their first vacation in Sonoma, Arizona, almost three years ago, when Sloan had thought of the idea, as Nolan liked it. Some sand art creations were also displayed there, that had some desert motifs to it. The washcloths and towels were light orange, as the shower curtain and bathmats were in yellow. The soapdishes and toothbrush holder was in a neutral sandy color.
Nolan put on his undershirt, and black dress socks. “Sloan, how are you doing?” He saw the steamy mirror from Sloan’s shower.
She grabbed the shampoo, and started to wash her hair. “Okay, I guess.” She thought. “But it’s unfair.”
He grabbed his dark grey tweed slacks, and started to put them on. “What’s unfair? Life in general, or this new case?”
She washed her chestnut brown hair. “Both.”
He zipped up, and buttoned up his slacks, and grabbed his belt. “Okay. Talk to me.”
“Nolan, we’re never going to get married at this rate . . . . we already had three postponements, within eight months of one another.” She sighed, and shampooed her hair. “
Of course we are, sweetie. It was just pure bad luck on our part. I know. But it'll happen . . . soon.”
Little did Sloan know, that Nolan was working on a surprise wedding for her. All of their friends, family, and coworkers knew about it, except for her.
She wondered, on what was Nolan up to, right now. He sounded so devious and mysterious to her in a way, when he said that. She rinsed her hair. “The first time, we were both sick at the same time, for our first destined wedding day date.”
Sloan was sick with the flu, as Nolan had a high fever, and a bad cold, that last year, when it was first planned on November 12th, 2001.
“November was flu season. You had forgotten to get your flu shot, while I had mine.” He put on his belt around the slack’s belt loops, and buckled it.
She sighed. She conditioned her hair. “Then, we both had to work, for our second proposed date. Explain that.”
Sloan was working on a SAR mission, out-of-county in her region, while Nolan was at an FBI conference convention, that was out-of-state, in Washington D.C., during earlier that year, that was planned on Valentine’s Day, that past February.
“Some things are pre-planned earlier, Sloan. Maybe it was a coincidence.”
She rinsed her hair. “So much for romance with cupids in it.” She sighed. “And, for our last attempt to get married, a couple of months ago, our priest had accidentally overbooked and overlapped our wedding date with another couple’s wedding day plans. We lost out on that one too, after two failed attempts to get married . . . .” She pouted, as she turned off the water with the knobs, from their sand-colored bathtub.
That was supposed to be that past June, merely six months ago, as she had also opted to be a June bride, when that happened to rain on her parade. She had lost hope on get married, that year, or at all, and rather want to stay engaged to Nolan, and be married by God.
“It was by accident, and not his fault. I know how you feel. I’m eager to get married too, Sloan.” He sighed. He grabbed his white shirt, and put it on.
As she stopped the water, she pulled back the shower curtains. Nolan handed her a towel to dry off with. She silently “thanked” him. “Nolan, so much for third time’s the charm, you know. Promise me, that if either one of us gets sick or gets injured, that we’ll get married at the hospital chapel, or spontaneously we'll to go Vegas, or by the Chapel of Peace, to get eloped, and say, ‘to hell with it’ . . . .” She stepped down on the bathmat, and dried herself off with the towel.
“Maybe the fourth time’s the charm, Sloan. I’ll promise you, that it’ll happen. And what’s with the pessimism? I thought you wanted to get married in a big wedding.” He handed her a smaller towel for her hair.
She smiled, and quickly dried her hair with it. “I do. I'm just so frustrated. It’s too late to get married this year, before the year’s over. We ought to try for next year, and grab the first date that comes along, before we’ve been engaged for nearly two years now.” She paused. “Maybe we can be like Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins, and Don Cheadle and his wife . . . not married by the church, but by God, and stay together forever . . . .”
She headed to the sink, and grabbed her small hairdryer, when she locked at her bathroom shower clock at 8:10 A.M. Nolan put on his green tie, that Sloan gave him last Christmas, that was also Christmasy too. By now, Flash drank some water, and ate some of his wet and dry dog food. He waited for them outside. They had a quick moment of themselves to think.
Or sooner, Nolan thought. It was going to happen sooner than she thought. Three months again, the family priest had promised Nolan the date. It was set for Christmas Day. Nolan had arranged a party the weekend before, that would a combination engagement party/wedding shower. The bachelor party was set of the 23rd-the day before Christmas Eve. He'd planned their entire honeymoon too-same plans as the previous three times-and they'd be back before New Year's Day. He sported a devious smile, knowing that Sloan would love his plan.. “Sloan, Goldie and Susan were once married, before they met Kurt and Tim. I don’t know about Don Cheadle, though.”