Arctic Fire

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Arctic Fire Page 19

by Paul Byers


  “What do you need? Name it and you got it.” Cain replied. Cain’s voice was calm on the outside but Pike could hear the underlying emotions.

  As Cain was talking Pike noticed the Yankee Clipper behind him. He was almost ignoring Cain as a plan was taking shape in his mind. “Rope. Can you get me some rope?” He blurted out looking at Centers.

  “Yeah,” Centers shouted above the howling wind, “but it’s down on the ships. It’ll take me about ten minutes to get it. “Why don’t we just use the ladder there?”

  “It’s not tall enough. Remember, the ice is 5 feet thick and the ceiling is another 8 feet and this is only a 6-foot stepladder. Now go!” Pike shouted and patted Centers on the shoulder as he turned to leave.

  “What do you want me to do?” Cain asked.

  “We don’t have ten minutes. Help me with the ladder.” They both grabbed the ladder and put it up beside the Yankee Clipper.

  “What are we doing?” Cain asked.

  “Hold it steady, I’ve got to get something out of the cockpit.”

  Cain nodded, and then held the ladder, burying his chin into his chest, trying to protect himself against the harsh winds. Pike steadied himself on the first rung, then shot up the ladder like a rocket on rails. Reaching the top, he pulled back the canopy and leaned in, his feet dangling in the air as he searched. After a few moments, Cain heard a muffled “Yes” then Pike climbed back down.

  “What have you got?” Cain asked, anxious to see what Pike thought was so important. “This,” he grinned, holding up two rolls of duct tape.

  Cain looked in amazement. “Duct tape? You’re kidding me right? Do you always carry duct tape with you?”

  Pike nodded his head. “I’m an engineer. I never leave home without it. Come on, we have to hurry. Beth could be dead in ten minutes if we don’t do anything.”

  Cain nodded his head. “Okay, what do we do?”

  “Here.” Pike said as he handed one of the rolls to Cain and began to unroll his. “Press the two pieces of tape together to create a single strand.”

  “How much do we need?”

  “Enough to loop over the tail of the Clipper.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I know. Just do it.”

  The two men began unpeeling their respective rolls of tape and carefully pressing them together making one single strand. They continued to pay out the tape until they had a piece about twenty feet long, then Pike took out his Swiss Army knife and cut them.

  “Now what?” Cain asked.

  “Adjust the sled and point the nose of the Clipper back up as high as it will go.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better.” Cain said, shaking his head as he readjusted the launch sled. Pike waited impatiently as the nose of his fighter went up and the tail went down. With a clunk, the plane stopped and Cain signaled that that was as far as it went.

  “Okay” Pike yelled. “Get over on the other side of the tail and catch this when I throw it.” Cain nodded and waited on the other side of the plane like an outfielder waiting for a fly ball. On the first attempt, Pike hit the tail and the tape bounced back, almost hitting him on the head. On the second toss, his aim was better but a gust of wind caught the tape and blew it back, nearly ripping it out of his hands. Frustrated, Pike took a deep breath and waited for what he thought was a lull in the wind and threw them again. This time everything went according to plan and Cain caught the roll.

  “We’ve got to hurry.” Pike said. “Let’s finish splicing these two rolls together then tie it off on the tail.”

  “I get it.” Cain said as they both worked as fast as their frozen fingers would allow them. “By wrapping the tape around the tail, we’re going to use it as an anchor to lower someone down to get Elizabeth.”

  “Partly right,” Pike replied as they came to the end of the rolls. He threw the one cardboard center away but kept the other and wrapped the tape around it, placed it on the deck then put his foot in the middle of the hole and pulled as hard as he could, testing its strength. “That should do,” he said, satisfied that it would hold him. “My Dad always taught me, work smarter, not harder. “We’re going to use the tail as an anchor alright but I’m going to let the sled do the work and use it as a crane to pull me and Beth up. When you lower the nose, the tail will go up and hopefully lift us out.”

  “Very clever Gabriel.”

  Pike nodded modestly then picked up the ladder and dragged it over to the hole.

  “How’s she doing?” Pike asked as he and Cain crawled up beside Miles.

  “I can’t get her to answer me anymore.” Miles replied, panic and frustration filling his voice.

  Pike grabbed the ladder and shoved it across the opening. “You two, sit here on the edge with your feet on the ladder and lower me down. When I signal I’ve got her, raise us up with the sled.”

  Pike crawled gingerly out onto the ladder until he was sitting directly over the center of the hole. He slipped his foot into the cardboard ring like a stirrup and with some trepidation, eased himself over the edge and nodded for them to lower him down. As more and more of his weight was transferred from the ladder to his tape-rope, he could feel it stretching and for a fleeting moment he wished that he had waited for the rope, but he knew deep down inside that Beth couldn’t wait. With a deep breath and a leap of faith, he let go of the ladder, placing all his weight onto the tape.

  It stretched even more but it held. He gave them a shaky thumbs up and they started to lower him down. It was a strange sensation as he began descending. Almost immediately he noticed how quiet it had gotten. The howling wind had turned to a mere whisper as he traveled through the five-foot thick ceiling and reached the inside of the anchor room itself. He also felt like he was floating, not just suspended like some giant piñata.

  Because he was hanging from the tape, gone was nearly all the swaying and pitching motion of the iceberg. It was almost like he was in a dream as he gently swayed back and forth in the dark, but he knew this dream would turn into a nightmare if he couldn’t get to Mallory in time.

  He was almost enjoying his ride when all of a sudden he felt his stomach press against the top of his throat as the rope slipped and fell two feet. He felt the stirrup stretch under the sudden surge of his weight and he held his breath as he expected it to snap, sending him plummeting onto the anchor.

  “Are you okay?” Pike heard Cain shouting.

  “Yeah, what happened?”

  “Sorry about that, a gust of wind caught us and knocked us sideways and the tape slipped.”

  “Okay, hang on.” Pike took out his flashlight and had a look around. He was suspended about five feet above the floor and could see that Mallory was still lying on the anchor. A thin layer of ice had already formed on the surface of the water which was a good sign showing that their plan was working but a bad sign for Mallory because she was submerged nearly up to her waist in the bone chilling water. She stared at him with wide-open eyes in a death stare but he could still see a spark of life in them. “Hang on Beth, I’m going to get you out of here.” He said trying to reassure her. He thought he saw a faint smile but he couldn’t tell because her teeth were chattering and her whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

  “Okay, lower me down another four feet, that should do it.” Pike shouted back up the hole.

  “We can’t, you are at the end of your rope, literally.” Cain replied.

  Great, Pike muttered to himself, why can’t anything ever be simple? He grabbed the tape-rope with both hands and gently pulled himself up to get his foot out of the stirrup. He took a deep breath and tried to psych himself up; he was not looking forward to dropping down into freezing water. He looked at Mallory again and noticed that her eye lids were getting very heavy. If she fell asleep now, she would not wake up. That was all the motivation he needed as he let go of the rope.

  He let out an involuntary gasp as he hit the frigid water. The shock was much greater than he had anticipated as his legs felt like the
y were being stabbed over and over again by a million angry seamstresses. He steadied himself with the rope for a second while his legs went completely numb, then sloshed over to Mallory. “Come on Beth, time to get out of here.”

  He grabbed her legs and swung them down to the floor then reached out and grabbed her in a bear hug. She was as limp as a rag doll and he was having a hard time getting hold of her because of their bulky jackets. Finally he managed to get his arms around her and as he held her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a half roll of tape. His teeth were starting to chatter now as he took the tape and reached around behind her and started taping the two of them together.

  He carefully stood supporting both their weights. The one good benefit of the cold water was that he couldn’t feel the pain in his ankle anymore. With the ice cover broken, small waves now sloshed through the room as the iceberg was tossed by the storm, adding all the more to his difficulties. He steadied himself against the mini tidal waves. If he slipped and fell now, they both would drown. He felt like a sumo wrestler as he picked up one foot then placed it down as he dragged her to the dangling rope. After four squat-steps, he placed his left arm through the loop and grabbed his left elbow with his right hand. He prayed that he had the strength to hold on, supporting not only his weight but Mallory’s too.

  “Miles? Can you hear me?” Pike shouted.

  “Right here Gabe.”

  “Tell Nigel to bring us up, slowly.”

  “Will do, stand by.”

  Almost immediately, Pike could feel the tension start as the sled began pulling them up. For a moment, he felt the pressure and saw the tape stretch but they weren’t moving. The tape kept stretching and he thought for sure it was going to break, but then he felt his arm rise and his feet leave the floor. Slowly, they steadily rose toward the light. Their feet cleared the water and they were now suspended between heaven and earth as they ascended through the five-foot think ice ceiling. Everything was white and Pike felt like he was floating through a cloud.

  They were about a foot from the top of the entrance when they stopped moving. The sled must be level Pike thought. The next thing he knew, he felt three sets of strong hands grab him and pull them the rest of the way up. They all plopped down hard on the ice with Mallory landing on top of him. Her limp head snapped forward, hitting him in the nose, causing it to bleed.

  “Get these two into the Jacuzzi.” Pike heard Cain yell. Quickly, the two Siamese twins were separated and Mallory was carried off by two men and Pike limped along with the help from Miles. When Pike stepped through the door and felt the heat from the spa, he felt like he had just stepped into the middle of the Sahara desert.

  Mallory was seated on the floor propped up against a chair. The men had her jacket off but had stopped, hesitant and confused on just how much clothing they should remove. Pike would have laughed at their predicament if he weren’t so cold.

  “Just leave her, I’ll take care of her.” Pike said, staring at the shorter of the two men, “You go get us some hot tea and something to eat. And you,” he turned to the other, “you go find Tabatha Amies and bring her here please.” Both men nodded and quickly left, clearly happy to be relieved of their awkward situation.

  “Dean, would you go and get us plenty of towels please and then make sure they’re still pumping water into the room. We aren’t out of the woods yet.”

  “Sure thing Gabe.” Miles replied.

  Pike took off his jacket and walked over and grabbed Mallory and dragged her to the side of the Jacuzzi. He slid his feet in, shoes and all, then slowly lowered himself the rest of the way in. It felt scalding hot and every part of his body started tingling as he began to thaw. He reached up and dragged Mallory in, clothes and all and held her by his side, keeping her head above water. Slowly she began to stir as the warmth spread throughout her body.

  “So this is how you got this gig huh? Hot tubbing with the boss’s assistant.” Tabatha Amies said, walking in the door.

  “Very funny. I need your help here.”

  She thought about teasing Pike some more but from his worn look decided against it. “What can I do?” She simply said.

  “As soon as I get out of here, I’ll need you to help Beth change and get her back to her room.”

  “Okay, not a problem.”

  Miles came in and dropped off the towels then went back outside. Shortly after he left, the tea and food arrived. Feeling like a thawed out pork chop Pike got out of the hot tub and wrapped a towel around his shoulders, then drank some tea. By now Mallory was awake and greedily took some tea from Tabatha. She looked around and sized up the situation. “I take it you were the one who got me out?” she said looking at Pike.

  Pike tipped his teacup to her. “My pleasure.”

  “Gabe.” They turned to see Miles coming toward them. “Mr. Cain would like to see you on the bridge.”

  Pike frowned, not liking the urgency in Miles’ voice. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  Miles shook his head. “No, just that he wanted you there as soon as possible.”

  “Okay.” Pike said wearily. “Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can, obviously I have to change first. Tell Mr. Cain I should there in about twenty minutes to half an hour.”

  “No problem.”

  “How’s it going out there?” Pike asked as he stood, putting down his tea.

  “Great! The room is almost full and it’s already freezing… as you well know.” He smiled at Mallory and Pike. “Everything seems to be going according to plan and barring anything unforeseen, the anchor should be frozen solid in place within two hours.”

  “Good to hear, please keep me posted.” Pike nodded to all and walked out, leaving a trail of waterlogged shoe prints.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  The bow of the tug boat pitched down like a roller coaster as it rode down the backside of the wave, smashing straight into the base of the next. The water rolled up and over the bow, swallowing the ship, washing over the bridge like a submerging submarine. For a moment, all was quiet, no sound of the howling wind in the rigging, no crashing of the waves against the steel hull, just a hushed silence as the bridge was smothered in a blanket of water.

  Abject horror filled the eyes of the young deckhand as he watched the ocean consume his ship. He was a sailor experienced in coastal waters but he was a last minute replacement in the crew and this was his first open ocean run. His eyes darted back and forth between the captain and first officer, looking for signs of whether or not he should be grabbing his rosary beads.

  Captain Patrick Bair sat in his chair, timing his sips of coffee between the swells. He looked alert yet not overly concerned that his ship was becoming a submarine. Bair had cut his teeth pulling log booms and pushing sawdust barges on the Columbia River, then turned pilot, bringing cargo ships from the mouth of the great river up to the docks in Portland, Oregon.

  The First Officer, Matt Beasley, seemed as equally unconcerned about their plight; he was huddled over the radarscope, nibbling at a tuna fish sandwich. He too came from the Pacific Northwest working on tugs and skippering the ferries that criss-crossed Puget Sound.

  Suddenly, like a car crashing through a brick wall, the Rachel B. broke through the wave. Free of their cocoon of water, they were instantly assaulted by a barrage of sounds, reassuring them that they were still alive and afloat.

  Bair glanced over at his first officer and they shared a smile at the crewman’s expense. “Mr. Palmer,” Bair said, “why don’t you go down to the galley and help Mr. Clemens with some sandwiches? The crew’s been on station for quite a while now. The weather’s too rough to cook anything but they’ll still be hungry nonetheless and a cold sandwich is better than nothing.”

  “Yes sir, right away.” Just as Palmer reached the hatch, the ship lurched, like a dog pulling on its chain trying to chase the neighborhood cat.

  “Sir?” Palmer said, spinning around, looking at the captain, fear once again filling his eyes.

  �
�It’s all right Palmer,” Bair said reassuringly, “that’s just the soft brake working, everything is going to be just fine. Now go below and help Mr. Clemens with the sandwiches.” The soft brake was a setting used on the towing winch that acted like a buffer, allowing the cable to slip a little so it wouldn’t break from the tension in rough seas, much like the drag setting on a fishing reel.

  “Yes sir.” Palmer said hesitantly, then disappeared down the ladder.

  Bair turned to Beasley. “It’s getting worse.”

  Beasley nodded. “We can’t make fast enough headway to outrun this thing. The storm front is filling my entire screen and it’s dropping down out of the North fast.” Bair felt himself being nudged forward in his chair as the Rachel B. staggered again.

  “We can’t take much more of this.” Bair continued. “The waves are too large and unpredictable; they’re pushing us back then shoving us forward making the tow cable go slack, then snapping it back. If the soft brake fails, we could be in some serious trouble. It’ll rip the spindle off our deck, tear the towing bridle off the barge, or snap the cable.”

  “Not a very good selection to choose from.” Beasley frowned.

  Just then the tug jerked so hard Bair was nearly thrown out of his seat and Beasley ended up on the floor next to his tuna fish sandwich.

  “That was the soft brake; it’s gone!” Bair shouted. “You’ve got the bridge Matt, I’m going aft to see how bad it is.” The captain of the Rachel B. dashed out the rear hatch and scrambled down the back stairs. Twice he had to stop and hold onto the railings as the tug lurched again and rolled hard to port in the heavy seas. At last he was on the main deck and ready to go outside.

  “What took you so long?” Al Painter, the ship’s engineer said, with a crooked smile. Painter was on the low side of his 50’s with a narrow face that was always wearing a smile. He had nearly as many years at sea as his captain but was getting ready to retire to his gentleman’s ranch, as he liked to call it, in Oregon. Rather than the grand scale of ribbons of white wooden fences surrounding his palatial estate, his gentlemen’s ranch was more along the lines of ten acres, a large barn and a couple of horses.

 

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