by Paul Byers
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Miles asked.
Pike took off his fur-lined parka and stamped his feet, and rubbed his hands together, trying to warm up. Cain and Mallory walked up and Mallory handed Pike a cup of coffee. “Thanks,” he said as he just held the cup for a moment, enjoying the heat and letting it warm up his cold fingers. He took a sip and smiled. “It’s even a mocha.”
“Gabriel?” Cain said.
“Sorry, this warm cup feels so good, and yes, it will work.” He took another quick sip. “It has to work.”
“Your idea is really, crazy you know,” Mallory said, skeptical of the whole thing.
“I know, but what other choice do we have? I’ve talked to the captain and the storm will get worse before it gets better. The anchor has already slipped off its cradle and is resting against the front wall; it’s not a matter of if it will crash through, it’s a question of when.”
Pike took out the c-pad and all three crowded around it as he brought up a three- dimensional view of the stern of the iceberg. “See here, this is the anchor room, and right above it is the Clipper. The Clipper is lined up in a perfect position right over the anchor room. We use the jet engine to melt through the roof, pump the water from the pool into the anchor room, crank up the AC units in this section and freeze the water in the room, thus freezing the anchor in place. Problem solved.”
“Why do you have to melt the ice? Why not just pump the water directly from the pool?” Mallory asked.
“We already thought of that.” Miles replied. “We simply don’t have enough hosing to reach from the pool to the anchor room.”
Mallory shook her head. “I think all three of you are crazy for even thinking this idea will work.” Just then the iceberg rolled to the right and hung there for what seemed like an hour before it righted itself. “I still think it’s crazy.” Mallory said, a lot less conviction in her voice.
“Oh ye of little faith.” Cain said optimistically. “I like it! What do you need Gabriel?”
“I need you to get all the drinking ice we have on board. When we start to fill the room, I want to dump the ice in. It will help freeze the water quicker.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope, that should do it.”
“Dean, I need you to get a crew together and seal the anchor room as soon as soon as possible.”
“You got it.”
“Mr. Cain,” Pike said turning to his boss, “while all this is going on I need you to do what you do best: keep these people calm and use this situation to our advantage. Questions anyone? Good. Let’s get to work then. We don’t have much time.”
Mallory shook her head again. “And I thought some of your ideas were crazy,” she said, looking at Cain.
“You’re standing on the craziest one,” he shouted as she walked away.
Chapter Twenty Six
“Okay, is everything ready?” Pike was standing in the spa area with his parka on, ready to go back outside. In front of him were Cain, Mallory, and Miles, surrounded by a work crew of ten or twelve.
“Miles?”
“We’ve already sealed off the anchor room and I’ve got two crews standing by so as soon as you melt through, we can start pumping. It should take about half an hour or so to fill the room and another three to set up hard.”
“Good. Mallory?”
“We’ve had the ice making machine cranked up and by the time you’re ready we should have about 600 pounds to dump in.”
“Excellent, that will really help. Mr. Cain?”
“I’m not hiding anything from our passengers hoping that things don’t go wrong. I’ve told everyone what’s happened and what we’re doing to solve this problem and I’ve moved everyone to the front of the iceberg. Besides,” Cain smiled, “with a boatload of reporters I don’t think I could have kept it a secret even if I tried.” Everyone laughed nervously, easing the tension a little. “I also have both escort tugs standing by…just in case.”
“Thank you all very much.” Pike said. “I’m guessing it will take about twenty minutes to melt through five feet of ice, so everyone can wait here where it’s warm and dry; everyone except you, Dean. I’ll need your help out there.”
“I’ve got it Dean. You can stay here.” Cain said.
“Sir?” Miles said.
“My berg, my mess. I’ll help clean it up.” Cain replied.
“It’s pretty nasty out there Mr. Cain.” Pike said.
“I may be rich, but I’m not a pampered pansy.”
Pike nodded. “Well, alright then, let’s get this show on the road.” Pike pulled up his hood and headed for the door. “That’s a pretty old looking parka you have there.” He said as he watched Cain put it on. “I’d of thought you’d have the latest in hi-tech outerwear.”
“I do, but this belonged to my great grandfather and it brought him good luck, so I’m hoping it will do the same for me.” Pike nodded, “I hope so too.”
He grabbed the stepladder he would need to climb into the cockpit and stepped out the door. Two steps out, he gasped as his breath was taken away by the cold. The temperature had dropped to 25 degrees and falling but the wind was now at a steady 50 knots, putting the wind chill factor at minus sixteen. He could appreciate the sentiment of Cain using his great grandfather’s parka but he was sure glad he was using the latest in modern cold-weather gear.
“Okay, when we get there,” Pike shouted above the roar of the wind, “and after I get in the plane, you’ll have to adjust the angle of the launcher, setting it as high as you can to put the engine as close to the ice as possible.”
Cain nodded, and they continued their trek across the frozen wasteland of the sundeck. Pike was cold in his modern, triple stitched, triple layer insulated waterproof parka, so he could only imagine that Cain must be freezing in his 100-year-old coat, but to his credit, Cain didn’t complain.
Reaching the Yankee Clipper, Pike took the ladder and jammed it into the snow like he was planting his flag on Mount Everest. He looked at Cain who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up then turned and started climbing. He had just stepped onto the second rung when a gust of wind swirled underneath him and sent both him and the ladder flying. Pike landed hard on his side with his left foot twisted in the rungs.
“Are you all right Gabriel?” Cain shouted over the wind as he reached down and freed Pike’s foot.
Pike cringed in pain as Cain removed the ladder. “Yeah, I think so,” he replied as Cain helped him to his feet. He tentatively put pressure on it and stifled a cry of pain.
“You are a terrible liar, Gabriel. Remind me to invite you to my next poker game.”
“I’m afraid the kind of stakes you play for, I couldn’t even afford the ante.” Pike took a few more steps, trying to walk it out but he didn’t have the time or the room to do that. At least the cold helped deaden the pain. “Help me back to the plane, please. And if you don’t mind, I’ll have you hold the ladder this time.”
“I thought you might.” Cain set the ladder up again and helped steady Pike as he hobbled back to the plane. Pike gingerly put his hurt foot on the rung and instantly felt a bolt of pain shoot up his leg. He bit his lip and willed himself the rest of the way up.
He didn’t think it was broken but it sure hurt like it was. He could remember hurting himself like this only one other time. He was 14 or 15 and playing Babe Ruth baseball. He was stealing second base and slid in to beat the throw but started his slide a little too late. His foot landed on the edge of the base and twisted. He was hoping for a solid cast so he could get more sympathy but all he ended up with was the kind that you took on and off. What he wouldn’t do for that cast right now.
Pike grabbed the edge of the canopy and yanked on it three times before he could break it free. Reaching the top rung, he tumbled rather than climbed into the cockpit. It was a welcome relief when he finally got inside and pulled the canopy closed. Not only because he could rest his ankle but also because it got him out of the vicious wi
nd. The wind buffeting the canopy reminded him of the sound the air made as it rushed passed during flight. He sat there for a moment, just enjoying the peace and quiet.
Suddenly he realized that Cain was still outside waiting for him. Quickly he turned and gave him the thumbs up. With a jerk that reminded him of the start of a roller coaster ride, the Yankee Clipper’s nose slowly began to rise. When the plane stopped, Pike looked down to Cain who signaled that that was as far as it would go. Pike nodded then turned his attention to starting the plane.
Pike was worried that because of the bitter cold, he would have trouble starting the Clipper, but such was not the case. After going through his preflight checklist, much to his surprise and delight, the turbine turned over and picked up speed and soon was running at idling speed.
He increased the throttle as much as he dared, trying to find the happy medium between using enough power to melt the ice quickly and not using so much it would rip the plane off its tie-downs. With everything fine-tuned, all he had to do now was wait and that shouldn’t take long as he figured the heat from the exhaust was somewhere around 1200 degrees.
It was a little unnerving, Pike thought, to be perched fifteen feet above the pitching deck of an iceberg that was swaying more than the hips of a belly dancer. Several times when the berg was rolling, he could see over his right wing and look straight down and see nothing but angry water below. Just like when he was on the bridge, he concentrated on the inside of his cockpit, doing his best to ignore the world outside.
It was warm in the cockpit and with the swaying motion of the iceberg and the steady whine of his engine; he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He didn’t know if he had actually been asleep for a while or just nodded off but he was quickly wakened by a loud thump. His head snapped up, his eyes wide open. He felt embarrassed, like he had fallen asleep in church and he looked around to see if anyone had noticed. They had. The thump that woke him was a well-thrown snowball slamming against his canopy. He looked through the slush and saw Cain standing a few feet away with another snowball in his hand.
Pike quickly got out his walkie. “Sorry boss,” he said sheepishly.
“It looks like we’ve melted through to the anchor room,” Cain replied, ignoring Pike’s sleeping habits.
“Very good sir. Dean, do you copy?”
“Right here, Gabe.”
“You heard Mr. Cain; we’re through the roof now. I’ll shut the engine down and you can go ahead and send the crews out and have them get started.”
“Will do.”
Pike turned off the ignition and as the engine wound down, he saw the first of the two-five man teams rushing out of the spa building like a team of fire fighters. Each team carried a six-inch flex hose and were going to run it from the swimming pool and drain it through the two-foot hole that he had just created to the anchor room below.
Pike waited for Cain to lower the Clipper, then cracked open the canopy and immediately all the warm air that had been in his cocoon was sucked away by the vicious storm. Carefully he put his foot onto the top rung of the ladder, testing his ankle; it was still tender and sore but feeling better. He shivered as he descended the ladder, the wind buffeting him vindictively, as if it were making up for lost time, angry at him for hiding in the plane.
Once on the deck, Pike dropped to his hands and knees and crawled over and peered into the hole. Taking a flashlight, he was pleased to see that there was already about six inches of water sloshing around on the floor. He was also pleased to see that the anchor hadn’t shifted any more during the rising seas.
“Out of the way, coming through.” Pike was surprised at hearing the familiar voice of Mallory booming over the roar of the wind. He turned to see her, followed by three others, each carrying large bags over their shoulders, like strange looking Santa clones. She dropped her bag by the hole and stepped aside while the others opened their bags and began pouring the ice inside.
“How come in this great plan of yours, I’m hauling fifty pound bags of ice around and you get to sit in the warm cockpit of your plane?”
“Because it’s my plan.” Mallory could see the smile underneath Pike’s parka. “Why are you out here?” Pike asked. “Your crew should be doing this.”
“Like Nigel said, he may be rich but he’s not a pansy. Well I’m not rich, and I’m not a pansy either. I can do my fair share.”
“Fair enough.” Pike said as he watched the others pour in their ice. “You know how to catch a polar bear don’t you?”
Mallory looked at him and shook her head. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but how?”
“You kick him in the ice hole.”
Mallory groaned. “That was bad, I mean really bad. I hope your plan works better than your jokes.” Pike just looked at her and grinned. “Here, let me help.”
Mallory was stooped over while Pike knelt on the ice beside the hole and began untying the string of the laundry bag turned ice carrier. He shifted several times trying to maintain his balance on the rolling deck. They were somewhat sheltered kneeling behind the Yankee Clipper, but the wind still managed to rip at their clothing like the frenzied crowd at a concert trying to get a piece of their favorite rock star.
However, nothing could protect them from the sheer power of the raging sea. As the night had progressed, so had the anger and churning of the ocean. The swells had continued to grow and even though the iceberg was 1000 feet long and weighed over 100,000 tons, Mother Nature was not impressed.
What started out as a slight, barely noticeable gentle swaying of the iceberg, had quickly escalated into long, sweeping rolls that had sent dishes sliding off tables and laptops landing in the laps of their users. Walking had become difficult, making everyone look like staggering drunks as they tried but failed to walk in a straight line.
Pike had almost emptied his bag when a cross-wave hit the side of the iceberg, pitching it up on its side. So violent was this assault that the man behind Pike holding a bag of ice lost his balance. He tumbled to his left, but held on to the bag as it fell off his shoulder and it swung him around like an athlete throwing the hammer at an Olympic track and field meet.
The bag hit Pike on the shoulder, smacking him down hard onto the deck and plowing into Mallory like an out of control car at a demolition derby. She landed with a sickening thud on her back that could be heard even above the wind, then she slid feet first into the void.
Pike’s eyes filled with horror as he watched her slide in. It was surreal, like watching a horror movie, only he wasn’t watching it, he was living it! He managed to roll over and reach out his left hand and grab her sleeve. For a fleeting moment he thought he had her, but her momentum tore her from his grip, and she was gone; swallowed whole like Jonah.
Pike scrambled over to the side of the hole and shouted into the darkness. “Beth, Can you hear me? Are you all right?” He heard a low moan which was a good sign; it meant she was conscious and alive. “Don’t worry Beth,” he shouted back down the hole, “I’m going to get you out!”
He grabbed his flashlight and shined it down into the abyss, hesitating for a moment, afraid of what he might see. The beam pierced the darkness and shone on Mallory like a spotlight. He was relieved to see that she was leaning against the shank of the anchor in thigh deep water. She had fallen feet first and the angle of the shank had helped break her fall as she slid down it, much like a ski jumper landing on a steep slope.
But he was not happy to see that her feet had landed at the base of the anchor and were resting against the thin wall that held the anchor in place. If the anchor shifted, it could pin her to the wall making a rescue almost impossible or worse yet, it could break the ice wall and plummet to the ocean below, taking Mallory with it.
“You wanna get that out of my eyes?” Mallory said weakly, shielding her face from the light.
“Are you okay?” Pike asked.
“I-I don’t know. My back is sore and I don’t think I can feel my legs.”
He was glad
she couldn’t see his deep frown. Not feeling her legs was not a good sign. He could hear the trembling in her voice and see her shaking from the cold and he prayed her loss of feeling was just from the numbing ice and not from a back injury. In either case, he had to get her out of there in a hurry.
Just then he heard a loud crack and he shined the light just in time to see a five foot fissure streaking up the front wall. The light reflected off the fracture making it look like a lightning bolt. He tried to turn the light off but he wasn’t quick enough, Mallory saw it too.
“Gabe! Get me out of here!” The sheer terror in her voice was enough to freeze his heart.
“Don’t worry Beth. We’ll have you out of there in a jiffy.” He hoped his voice conveyed more confidence than he felt. “Hang on Beth, I’m going to get some help. I’ll be right back.’”
“Don’t leave Gabe, Don’t leave me here all alone. Gabe?” Now his heart was melting, hearing the desperation in her voice.
“It’s okay Beth, I’m here.” He shouted back. Quickly he looked around and was relieved to see Miles inching his way toward him. Pike reached back and pulled Miles up to him and handed him the flashlight. “Dean is here Beth.” He shouted. He waited for a moment then called again. Still no answer. His heart was racing now and panic was the driver. “Beth!” He shouted so loud it hurt his throat.
“I’m here,” was the simple reply.
Pike turned to Miles. “Whatever you do, keep her talking. Hypothermia is setting in and if she falls asleep, she could slide off the anchor and drown or simply not wake up at all.”
Miles nodded his head. “Hey Mallory, remember the other day…”
Pike stood and looked around frantically. He had no idea what he was going to do; he only knew he had to do it quickly. Suddenly he saw Centers and Cain and he waved them both over.
“I was inside, what happened?” Cain asked.
Mallory felt into the hole.”
Concern creased Cain’s forehead. “Is she okay?”
“She is for now, but we haven’t much time.”