Caught Between Duty, Death, and a Setup

Brad Greer hesitated for a few seconds outside the door.

Then, he kicked ever harder and yelled, "Samuel Williams! You know that the emergency response team will take at least 20 minutes to get here! Do you seriously think that the three maintenance people can hold out until then?

"You've had professional training! What's wrong with you taking a look at it first?"

My back was soaked with cold sweat. I tightened my grip on the mouse and replied, "It's not that I don't want to go and take a look, Brad. I just don't have the technical qualifications for this.

"If I make a mistake, the consequences will be even more serious than now. You should contact the shift manager at once."

Brad's voice was laced with anger when he yelled back again.

"Stop pretending not to know a thing, Samuel! You've helped the maintenance team adjust the valve on Unit 3 last week! Everyone in the factory knows how skilled you are!

"We're talking about three lives in danger right now! Are you seriously just going to stay here and watch them die?"

A new anonymous, encrypted email appeared on my computer screen.

"He's the person primarily responsible for this. If the plant finds out that he violated regulations by replacing the defective valve core with a substandard one and operating it improperly, he won't just go bankrupt from the consequences—he'll also end up in jail.

"He's just using you because you're a new contract worker with no real connections, and he's setting you up to take the fall for him."

My chest tightened at that. I immediately recalled the problem I'd found during the inspection yesterday.

Brad was the maintenance foreman for the steam pipeline in Unit 4. But he hadn't followed the proper procedures for depressurizing the unit yesterday afternoon.

I called out to the door, "You're the maintenance foreman, Brad Greer, aren't you?"

"Yes! It's me! Open the door quickly and come out! You're only going to cause a disaster if you keep dawdling like this!"

I didn't budge from my position at the computer. I could see his vague figure through the slightly translucent glass partition in the wall.

"Let's not panic, Mr. Greer. Let me ask a few questions first. What's the actual pressure in the pipeline right now?"

He paused for a bit and replied, "12 MPa."

"12? Are you sure?"

"Yes. I checked the pressure gauge."

The proper standard operating pressure for Unit 4's main pipeline was supposed to be only 10 MPa. 12 MPa of pressure was way past the upper limit, indicating that the depressurization device was certainly not working properly, like he said.

"Has the overpressure alarm sounded?"

Brad hesitated.

"No. Nothing's happening."

I asked again, "Mr. Greer, did you turn off the upstream shut-off valve to release the pressure first while repairing it earlier?"

He answered quickly, "Of course I turned off the pressure-regulating valve first before releasing the pressure!"

As soon as he said that, I understood what had happened.

I'd caught him doing it during yesterday's inspection. He didn't release the pressure before removing the valve core because he'd been in a rush.

According to the standard operating procedures, he should have first turned off the upstream shut-off valve to release the steam in the pipeline before any repairs could proceed.

However, he'd gone ahead and attempted repairs while the pressure was still up.

I reminded him about it yesterday, but he told me off, saying that he'd been doing this for 20 years and never had an accident with it.

With him replacing the valve core under pressure, it meant that the seals on the valve would have had to be damaged by the high-pressure steam long ago.

It was no wonder that it finally malfunctioned and jammed now.

I had already written the defect report tonight, but the accident happened before I'd managed to submit it to my supervisor.

I never had a good relationship with Brad. When I reminded him about the proper procedures yesterday, he cursed at me for being nosy and told me off.

And now, he thought that I could be easily bullied into submission.

Brad got more and more impatient outside the door.

"Samuel Williams! Open the door right now! We're working at the same factory! Did you think I'd try to trick you or something?

"If you'll help me this one time, I'll talk to the director and get you a permanent position by next month. This is an opportunity anyone else would kill for, and you know it!"

Did Brad just think that he could buy out my future with promises of a permanent position at this plant? He really was a sly fox.

I couldn't see his expression clearly now, but I knew that he was just treating me like a sitting duck, waiting to be sent to the slaughterhouse.