Flight of the Condor

by Richard P. Henrick

  Taking in each other by the glimmering light of the fireplace, they each made a silent pledge, and both lovers knew that no further commitment was needed.

  As they had over a decade before, they would give themselves to each other without needless promises and future hopes. Only in this way could their trip backward in time be complete.

  Unable to restrain himself any longer, Richard reached out and pulled his love tightly into his arms.

  No pleasure could be as great as that experienced when their bodies finally touched, and linked as one.

  Laying Miriam gently on her back, he slowly gave of himself until all was given. A whimper passed her lips as this gift was received deep in the tight, warm recesses of her womb.

  For several minutes they lay there, barely moving.

  Visible in each other’s eyes was a long trail of shared past experiences. The joys and heartbreaks, the innocent aspirations and torrid, passionate desires all came to the surface with this merging. New joys rose, as Richard slowly pulled his hips backward and then inched himself forward once again. This tempo gradually increased until a comfortable rhythm was achieved.

  Long into the night this coupling continued, until Miriam’s womb burst in a hot, tingling current of pure ecstasy. As she begged her lover to join her, Richard let go of his own blissful current, and the ritual was at long last culminated. Lying there in each other’s arms, their passions completely satiated, the two lovers tapped an innocent joy few mortals have ever discovered. For how many of us have been able to return to the past and not be disappointed?

  While the flames flickered before them, new hopes and purposes came into focus. Yet all too soon the deep, deathlike sleep that only lovers share overcame them. With their bodies still intertwined, they surrendered to this call as the midnight moon rose over the coast of central California.

  Sometime in the night Richard awoke, and without disturbing his love’s slumber, picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Though he would have loved to join her beneath the covers, the spell had been broken, and already thoughts of his present responsibilities rose in his consciousness. It wouldn’t be long now until the dawn would break, and there was quite a bit of work that needed his attention in the meantime.

  Carefully closing the bedroom door behind him, Richard yawned and stretched his lean body contentedly.

  Lit only by the still-flickering flames of the fireplace, the room was littered with the evidence of their lovemaking. Clothes lay scattered, glasses were overturned and pillows kicked aside. Though he had slept a mere five hours, his slumber had been deep and he felt more rested than he had in months. Still savoring the memories of their coupling, the Nose researcher grinned with satisfaction. Aware of a renewed stiffening in his loins, he fought the impulse to turn back to the bedroom. Only when he saw his briefcase, which was set beside the dish-covered dining-room table, did he redirect his thoughts back to his duty. Reluctantly, he flicked on the lights and clearing himself some work space.

  His first priority was to work on the project Lansford had asked for. Since the recipient of this map would be none other than the Secretary of the Air Force, he proceeded carefully. After tracing his most accurate bathymetric chart of Point Arguello and the waters that lay west of it, he began the tedious job of drawing in the various curving depth lines. He extended these lines to a position eighteen nautical miles due west of the coastline. This portion of subterranean Arguello Canyon lay some 2,400 feet beneath the ocean’s surface. Next, he began sketching in the Titan’s supposed debris field. He had just finished indicating the position of the wreckage found during the Razorback’s preliminary sonar scan when a pair of moist lips kissed him on the back of his neck. At first startled by this unexpected intrusion, Richard turned and set his eyes on the smiling face of Miriam.

  “Well, good morning, Dr. Fuller. Aren’t you the industrious one? Worked all through the night, have began?; you.

  Realizing that he had been completely lost in his work, Richard caught sight of the clock that was hung over the fireplace. He could hardly believe that it read 6:45.

  “Good morning to you. Princess,” he said.

  “Actually, I’ve only been up a little less than two hours.

  How did you sleep?”

  “Like a kid again,” answered the archaeologist as she bent over to give him a peck on the lips.

  “How about you?”

  “What I lacked in quantity, I more than made up for in quality. Would you like some breakfast? There’s a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen.”

  Pulling Richard’s over-sized, white terry-cloth robe around her, Miriam nodded.

  “That coffee sounds great. I’m still not much of a breakfast eater.”

  As she began walking into the kitchen, she added, “What are you working on anyway?”

  Richard’s response was hesitant.

  “It’s a project for Lieutenant Colonel Lansford. I’m sure you’re aware that the Air Force lost a missile here the other day.”

  Miriam was in the process of pouring herself a mug of coffee when she answered him.

  “I’ll say. Me and my crew had a ringside seat for the whole thing. We only got out of Ocean Beach Park in just enough time to escape a cloud of toxic chemicals that fell from the skies.”

  “Then I’m sure you know that the failed missile was an Air Force Titan. Because it exploded while arcing over the Pacific, I was called in to help determine the extent of the resulting debris field.

  That’s what this chart is all about.”

  Positioning herself at the dining room table’s side, Miriam sipped her coffee and looked down at Richard’s work.

  “Sounds like you could use an archaeologist’s help.”

  Richard winked.

  “If we don’t do our job correctly this first time, it will probably be someone from your field who stumbles onto a piece of the Titan in a couple of decades or so. Since these positions are only the result of a hasty sonar scan, and have yet to be verified, who knows if some of them don’t turn out to be the wrecks of a fleet of Spanish treasure galleons.”

  “If that’s the case, Richard Fuller, I expect to be one of the first ones to know of it. Now, I’d better jump in the shower and then get back to work myself.

  We came across a fully preserved Chumash tomolo canoe at our new beach side excavation site, and I promised to be there later this morning when the crew attempts to pull it out.”

  While Miriam continued on to the bedroom, Richard turned his attention back to the chart. He could hear the shower streaming in the background as he determined the exact spot where the Marlin had made the previous day’s surprising discovery. Marking this site with an X, he then drew a line eastward, to connect it with the rest of the debris field some seven and a half miles away. Wondering what could account for the unusual distance between these two sites, the Nose researcher could only hope that the Marlin’s luck held. Perhaps, even as he sat there, the brave crew of the DSRV was already preparing to get under way. If fate were still with them, perhaps this day’s findings would somehow help solve the puzzle that lay so visible before him.

  Chapter Ten

  Lieutenant Colonel Todd Lansford had been expecting this new day to be a full one, yet little could he have ever guessed how it was to start off. It all began with an emergency phone call that arrived at his home at 5:25 a.m. Awakened out of a sound sleep, Lansford groped for the telephone, and soon found himself on the line with the commander of Vandenberg’s Second Weather Squadron. The warning this serious-toned officer had to relate was unlike any that Lansford had ever received before. It was from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Honolulu office, and consisted of a tsunami alert.

  Not yet fully awake, Lansford had to ask the commander to repeat himself. This time, the base’s senior meteorologist related the following facts. At approximately 5:01 A.M.” an earthquake registering 7.1 on the Richter scale had shaken the waters off Alaska’s Kodiak Island. As the t
wo subterranean crustal plates comprising the Aleutian fault line had snapped with a tremendous release of stored force, a fan-like quiver of energy had surged out into the Pacific basin. To the north, this energy took the form of a massive earthquake. As a result, dozens of buildings had collapsed in nearby Anchorage.

  Preliminary reports showed at least two dozen people dead and hundreds more injured there.

  To the south, this un leased force was expressing itself in the form of a monstrous tidal wave. Traveling at a speed of over 500 miles per hour, this fifty-too thigh wall of water could hit the central California coastline as early as 10:00 A.M. that very morning.

  By the time the commander had related these grim facts, Lansford was wide awake. A cold shiver of dread coursed through his body as he visualized the tidal wave crashing into Vandenberg’s western boundary.

  Leaving the meteorologist with orders to give him updates on the half-hour, Lansford disconnected the line and then hastily dialed the apartment of Master Sergeant Vince Sprawlings. After explaining then-situation, he directed Sprawlings to meet him at his office at once. Accepting the master sergeant’s offer to pick him up on the way in, Lansford made one more call before sprinting to the shower. He found himself somewhat surprised to hear that the deputy commander of the 4392nd Security Police Group had already been informed of the alert. Though he had just been awoken from bed himself, the deputy commander was already sketching up a preliminary evacuation plan. Directing him to bring this blueprint over to base headquarters at once, Lansford ran straight from his bed into the bathroom. At it turned out, Vince Sprawlings was just pulling into his driveway when he emerged fully dressed from his front door.

  The fog made driving hazardous, yet Sprawlings knew the route well. By 6:00 A.M. he had the lieutenant colonel in his office, in just enough time to greet Deputy Commander Bill Rose of Vandenberg’s Security Police Group. With coffee cups in hand, the two senior officers huddled before a map of the base that the burly, crew-out security chief had pulled from his briefcase.

  “This map is from the Master Contingency Disaster Plan,” stated the no-nonsense deputy commander.

  “It shows the areas of our western boundary that lay within the tidal-wave inundation zone. As you can see, the only major structures directly threatened are those situated at the Point Arguello dock site It’s imperative that we order an immediate evacuation of all personnel, and get going with the transfer of all moveable equipment inland.”

  Lansford’s face lit up.

  “We mustn’t forget the Razorback and the Marlin. I wonder if the Navy has contacted them as yet.”

  Bill Rose replied icily, “Even if they haven’t, the safest place for those two vessels to meet the wave is at least one mile offshore. When Point Arguello is contacted, we’ll remind the Navy of this fact.”

  “What about the launch complexes?” queried Lansford.

  The deputy commander traced a line from Point Arguello northward.

  “Most of the launch sites are situated high enough to be free from any threat of flooding. The only positions that could be marginal are the Minutemen silos located in the northern sector of the base, off Point Sal Road.”

  “Then seal them up,” directed Lansford.

  “Also, once the evacuation is completed, both Point Sal and Coast Roads are to be closed to all traffic. Then I want the Civil Defense sirens activated, and the proper bulletins released over both radio and television.”

  “I think it’s a good idea to scramble the Hueys,” added Rose.

  “The choppers can comb the coastline and the immediate waters, to inform any strays who miss our warnings.”

  Lansford nodded.

  “Good idea. Bill. With your expert assistance, we’ll ride this wave out with a minimum of damage. Secretary Fitzpatrick couldn’t have picked a worse day for his surprise visit.”

  “It will all be over by the time his plane touches down at noon,” said Rose.

  “He won’t even know that anything out of the ordinary occurred here this morning.”

  “I hope to God you’re right,” retorted Lansford, whose weary eyes went to the wallmounted clock.

  Taking in the time, he realized that in less than three and a half hours they’d all know the outcome for sure.

  Two hours later, the exact manner in which they would meet their predicament was a bit clearer. Even from his office, Lansford could hear the warning sirens wailing in the distance. A similar sound could be heard in communities up and down the western coast of North America. Confident that Vandenberg was prepared for the worse, he still was concerned with the Point Arguello dockside facility.

  Only minutes before, the base’s security chief had called him from this site. There, the evacuation of men and material was going smoothly. Even the piece of Titan debris that the DSRV Marlin had recently exhumed from the ocean had been moved to higher ground. This left the massive, solid-rocket booster warehouse as the only installation of significant value that lay in the tidal wave’s inundation zone. Most aware that there was absolutely nothing he could do to further protect the multi-million-dollar facility from the ever-approaching wall of water, Lansford could only pray that all base personnel were safely out of harm’s way when the tsunami struck. He was about to call Bill Rose to reiterate this point when his intercom buzzed. This was followed by the deep voice of Master Sergeant Sprawlings.

  “Sir, Dr. Fuller is here with that chart you asked him to draw up for the Secretary.”

  Having completely forgotten about this request, Lansford responded, “Send him in.”

  The Nose researcher looked confused as he entered the inner office.

  “Sergeant Sprawlings was just explaining what these sirens are all about. Since I haven’t heard a TV or radio yet this morning, I thought it was all some sort of practice drill. Actually, I would have guessed that the Russians were landing before associating the sirens with a tsunami alert. I haven’t been in one of these things since the spring of ‘86, when I was working on the north shore of Kauai.

  At that time, it was another Aleutian quake that provoked the warning. Fortunately, the tidal wave failed to materialize.”

  “I only hope we’re so lucky,” said Lansford, whose tone was already heavy with fatigue.

  “We’ll know in another hour and a half. Would you like to see a map of the inundation zone?”

  “Of course,” replied Richard, who was well aware that a tidal wave could be one of the most destructive forces Mother Nature could unleash against man.

  As his eyes studied the chart that the lieutenant colonel handed to him, he noticed the black hatch marks that completely covered the coastline. Those finely drawn lines were especially thick around the section of beach just south of Point Arguello. Drawn to show the extent of the overflowing waters as they crashed onto land, the hatch-marks continued up northward. He couldn’t help but notice how they covered Ocean Beach Park.

  “Has anyone thought of personally notifying that crew of student archaeologists?” asked Richard.

  Lansford answered matter-of-factly, “The park is well covered by sirens. I’m certain that they’ve heard the radio bulletins by now and that they’re safe and sound in Lompoc.”

  “Maybe you can take such a thing for granted, but I certainly can’t,” said Richard.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t at least send someone down to check on them!”

  “Easy now. Doctor. Those kids will be just fine.

  Our security force has the matter well in hand. We’ve even got helicopters combing the beach for any stragglers.”

  “That’s still not good enough,” retorted Richard, his face flushed with concern.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to drive down there to make certain that they’re out.

  Unaware of what all the fuss was about, the lieutenant colonel reacted angrily.

  “As a matter of fact, I do mind. Doctor. As of 0800 hours, all roads leading down to the coastline have been placed off limits. The Sou
th Vandenberg Security Gate has been notified to admit emergency personnel only.”

  “Well, please notify them to let me through. Colonel.

  I won’t be able to rest until I know those kids are safe.”

  Realizing that the researcher was not about to take no for an answer, Lansford reluctantly gave in.

  “I still think you’re being silly, but go on down there if it’s so damn important to you. Yet I’m warning you, if you’re not out of there in another hour, I’m sending one of those choppers in to pull you out. Now, where’s that chart that I asked you to draw up for the Secretary?”

  Richard Fuller’s mind was already concentrating on the route he’d utilize to drive down to the beach as he handed the map to Lansford and abruptly excused himself. Not even stopping to return Sergeant Sprawling’s goodbye. Fuller sprinted from the office and headed immediately for his car. As he raced through the main administrative area, he took in the sound of the wailing sirens and the ever-present swirling fingers of thick, gray fog. Ignoring the base speed limit, he began his way down the long, sloping roadway that led directly into the only route to Ocean Beach Park.

  With the resulting elevation change, the fog closed in even tighter. So thick was it that he saw the locked sentry gate only at the last moment. To the squeal of grinding brakes, he skidded up beside the guardhouse.

  It seemed to take an eternity for the smartly uniformed sentry to greet him.

  “Going a bit fast, weren’t you, sir?”

  Richard responded hurriedly.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s imperative that I get down to Ocean Beach Park as soon as possible.”

  In no rush of his own, the guard shook his beret clad head.

  “I’m afraid that could be a bit difficult, sir. You see, because of this tidal-wave alert, entry to all points west of here is no longer permitted.”

  Though he tried to hold back his temper, Richard exploded.

  “For God’s sake man, I’m fully aware of that! My name is Dr. Fuller, and Lieutenant Colonel Lansford has given me permission to enter.”