Arctic Fire (13 page)

“This is amazing.” Pike said in awe.

“It was built for the1893 Chicago World’s Fair
by the Goldsmith Company of London and purchased by the
Waldorf-Astoria as the focal point for the original hotel, where
the Empire State building now stands. The eight-sided base has the
likenesses of eight US Presidents and Queen Victoria, and is topped
by the Statue of Liberty.” Mallory rattled off.

“Wow, what times does the next tour start?” Pike
joked.

Mallory smiled, “Sorry, I’ve been here over a
dozen times playing tour guide, entertaining Nigel’s guests.”

“Yeah, I get that way too sometimes when I have
friends from out of town and they all want to go to the Space
Needle or my namesake, Pike Place Market.”

“You know,” Cain said, I heard they were going
to remove Queen Victoria’s image from the clock and replace it with
yours.”

Pike shot Cain a dirty look then went back to
examining the clock. He studied it for a few more minutes, then
noticed the throngs of people moving in and out. “Is it always this
busy in here?”

“It’s probably busier than usual because of the
banquet tonight.” Mallory replied.

“Just how many people are attending?”

“About 1500 or so.”

“1500! Where are we eating, Madison Square
Garden?” Pike said.

Cain looked at Mallory and they both smiled.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Pike followed Cain and Mallory as they joined
the stream of people moving toward the banquet room. They were
stopped several times along the way by businessmen wanting an
inside scoop, a Congressman’s aid wanting to set up an appointment
for his boss and a pair of women who discretely passed Cain a
business card as they went by. It was easy to tell that they had
more than business on their minds. Not breaking stride, Cain
accepted the card then discreetly handed it to Mallory who just as
discreetly torn it in half and tossed it in a waste can as they
walked by.

Pike shook his head. This life style was so
foreign to him; he felt small and insignificant in this high
profile world of power and politics. He was a minnow swimming in a
pond full of sharks and barracudas. He looked over at Cain and was
glad he was swimming with the Megalodon.

They approached a huge set of doors that was
devouring people at an amazing rate. As they stepped through into a
room so large, for a moment Pike really thought they were in The
Garden. The room was 30 to 40 feet high and ornately decorated,
filled with row after row of tables covered with gleaming white
tablecloths, surrounded by simple, yet elegant low, round-back
chairs. But the most amazing site was that the room was surrounded
by balconies, jutting out from the walls, reminding him of the
Galactic Senate room from
Star Wars, Attack of the Clones
.
He half turned to Mallory, while still staring in wonderment at the
room. “Okay, Beth, I’ll take that tour lecture now please.”

Mallory smiled. While she did tire of repeating
the same thing over and over again, she never did get tired of the
expression that first-timers had when they saw the Grand Ballroom.
“Soaring four stories high, it’s the only two-tiered ballroom in
New York City.” Mallory recited her speech with a little more
enthusiasm than usual, enjoying Pikes wonder. “It is the embodiment
of grandeur and beauty as the Grand Ballroom is a re-creation of
the Court Theatre in Versailles, a magnificent setting, where every
occasion achieves greatness. The Grand Ballroom can accommodate as
many as 1,500 guests with its unique rows of opera balconies.”

“Boy I’d hate to pay the electric bill for this
place.” Pike said.

Spoken like the true, practical engineer that
you are.” Cain laughed.

Just then, Pike saw an usher dressed in a tuxedo
that looked better than his come over to them. “Mr. Cain.” He said,
bowing his head slightly. “If you and your party would please
follow me, I’ll take you to your table.”

As they followed, it seemed like someone greeted
them from each table as they passed. Even in his short journey into
this world of movers and shakers, Pike was beginning to be able to
tell which greetings were sincere and which were purely self-
motivated.

When they reached the table, there was already a
man seated there and he rose as they approached. Mallory reached
out and took his hands and gave him an affectionate kiss on the
cheek. “Gabe, this is my husband Tom. Tom, Gabriel Pike. Pike held
out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

They all sat down, Pike next to Tom with Mallory
in the middle and Cain on the other side.

With the initial shock worn off, Pike began to
survey his surroundings. They were at a fundraiser for one of the
local children’s charities and there were more balloons floating
around than the Macy’s day parade and enough stuffed animals to
fill Noah’s Ark twice over. At the main entrance, they had passed
two huge gumball machines towering eight feet above the floor,
guarding the door like giant, multicolored sentinels.

The table centerpieces were a wide array of
baseballs, footballs, ballerinas, cute animals, building blocks and
generally a hodge-podge of anything related to children. Each one
had a different theme and a price tag to be sold at the end of the
evening. He thought about buying one for K.D. and mailing it back
to her but decided against it for two reasons-first, if he sent her
a present that was kid-themed, she might get the wrong idea and
second, the price tags. Even though he knew it was for a worthy
cause, he decided he would rather make his car payment than buy a
centerpiece. He would send K.D. a key chain of the Statue of
Liberty instead.

“So tell me Gabe, what do you think of New York
so far?” Tom asked as everyone was being seated.

“Well to tell you the truth, I haven’t seen that
much of it, mostly just the insides of meeting halls and conference
rooms.”

Just then a scream filled the room, piercing the
chatter like the whistle of a train piercing the silence in the
middle of the night. All heads turned to see one of the waiters
ripping a diamond necklace from one of the guests and race toward
the door. Everyone was stunned, as nobody expected a robbery at
such a glamorous affair. Cain and Pike both sprang to their feet
but they were too far away to do anything; even an Olympic sprinter
couldn’t catch him from here.

Pike watched the man as he dashed down the side
of the room. One elderly man stood and tried to stop him but was
shoved down by the thief like a linebacker tearing through the
secondary. As he watched the man run, for some strange reason Pike
focused on the centerpieces and suddenly had an idea. He reached
down and grabbed one of the baseballs from the centerpiece on the
table in front of him. As he picked it up, he noticed it was
autographed by Alex Rodrigues. He smiled. He never did like A-Rod
much after he left the Mariners.

Pike threw the ball for all he was worth, like a
centerfielder gunning down a greedy base runner trying to make it
to home plate. The ball sailed by the thief’s head and hit the
giant gumball machine on the right side of the door. The glass
shattered and thousands of tiny gumballs spilled onto the floor.
When the would-be thief’s feet hit the gumballs, he upended, his
legs flying up in the air going in two separate directions. The
whole scene looked like a stunt from a Hollywood movie. The thief
landed hard with a loud thud, hitting his head in the floor and
falling unconscious, the necklace still clutched in his hand.

The room was in stunned silence for a moment
when it suddenly erupted in spontaneous applause at Pike’s
marksmanship. Within moments, security arrived and dragged the man
off.

“I’m impressed.” Mallory said, nodding in
approval.

“Don’t be,” Pike replied, holding his arm. “I
was aiming for him, not the gumball machine.”

Cain roared with laughter. “I was kidding about
putting your face on the clock earlier, but after that, I don’t
know,” he said, patting Pike on the back. “Any doubts the public
might have had about you being a one hit wonder have just been
erased. You’re now the real deal Gabriel Pike.”

Instantly Pike wished he hadn’t thrown the
ball.

Chapter
Fourteen

Pike awoke with a start as his head banged
against the side of the fuselage. He was still walking in the
swirling mist, straddling the borderline with one foot in reality
and the other still in sleep. It was that critical moment when he
had a fifty-fifty chance of returning to his dream or waking up to
face the challenges of the real world.

Suddenly his head banged against the wall a
second time, shattering his dreamscape and propelling him into
reality. He was disoriented for a brief moment, but thanks to the
second jolt, his memories quickly returned.

One thing he didn’t need reminding of was that
he was tired. For the last two days he had been living in a haze,
his fifteen minutes of fame had stretched into a good hour and a
half. During that time he felt like he had been on the campaign
trail, running for President of the United States. He’d been
everywhere from press conferences held at Cain’s corporate high
rise to a meeting in front of city hall. In fact, he thought he had
even met the mayor, or was it the governor? For sure he had met a
Senator, maybe? At this point he wasn’t sure about all the names
and faces that were jumbled into a heap in his brain. The one thing
he was certain of was that he felt like he’d shaken hands with half
of New York City and he’d smiled so much his cheeks hurt.

Oh, but how could he forget about the baseball?
His memory teased. Someone at the event had a cell phone and had
taken his picture just as he was throwing the ball. The headlines
the next day read that the Yankees or Mets could sure use an arm
like his in the bullpen next season.

Thankfully the campaign trail was over as they
left early the next morning with surprisingly little fanfare; at
last they were finally heading out to the iceberg so he could do
the job he’d been hired to do.

The first part of the journey had the usual Cain
flair, flying in his private 747 that was more opulent than most 5
star hotels and so was the food. All of it looked like it had come
from one of those reality-cooking shows and it tasted even better
than it looked. It sure beat those little bags of peanuts on a
commercial airliner or the juice pouches he had on the
Yankee
Clipper
. But all the fame was beginning to have a bad side
effect. The economy may be shrinking but his waistline sure wasn’t.
All the wonderful food was just too tempting to say no to. But he
was confident that he would work it off once he started running all
over the iceberg; at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

The flight to Reykjavik, Iceland, had been quiet
and uneventful—that is until they landed. They were met with a
reception fit for a visiting head of state: it seems he had become
an international celebrity by now. Cain said he had nothing to do
with it but Pike knew better. Fortunately they were only in
Reykjavik for one night.

And now here he was, on the second part of the
journey— again—traveling in typical Cain style. Pike didn’t know
how or where, but Cain had managed to get his hands on an old
Sikorsky H-34 Choctaw helicopter. Inside it had been heavily
modified to accommodate six people in great comfort and luxury, and
all new avionics had been installed throughout. Cain had
beautifully re-stored the outside, staying true to its vintage
1950’s origin with polished aluminum finish and yellow bands
wrapping around the rear boom, matching the colors of the
Yankee
Clipper
.

Cain said it wouldn’t be right to have the
‘Blast from the Past’ arriving on a sleek, modern helicopter. No,
the swashbuckling hero needed to arrive on his own trusted steed.
You have to give the public what they expect, he always said. Since
the
Clipper
couldn’t land on the iceberg, this was the next
best thing. So here he was, wearing his leather jacket and yes, his
white scarf, riding in a 50-year-old-plus helicopter preparing to
land on one of the most technologically advanced wonders of the
world-just another day at the office.

Pike stood and stretched the best he could in
the helicopter’s small cabin. Though it was comfortable and well
appointed, it was still small and he banged his head for a third
time then plopped back down in his seat. Mallory got up from her
seat on the other side of the cabin and sat beside him.

“Being short does have its advantages,” she
said.

Pike smiled as he rubbed his head.

“Would you like some coffee?” She asked.

“Yes, please.”

Mallory got up and took the two steps to the
front of the cabin and returned shortly with two cups of coffee and
a sweet roll on a sterling silver platter.

“What, no stewardess on this flight?” Pike said
jokingly.

“Actually, we had one, but she ate something in
Reykjavik that disagreed with her so she couldn’t make the flight;
so we’ll just have to make do.” Mallory smiled then handed Pike his
coffee. “French Vanilla creamer and one sugar.”

“You know more about me than if we were
married.” Pike shook his head as he took the coffee. “Kind of
scary.”

“Don’t worry Gabe, I don’t know everything about
you.”

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” Cain said, coming down
from the cockpit. “We’re here.”

Instantly a bolt of excitement shot through Pike
like a child waking up on Christmas morning. Cain nodded his head
to the left and Pike nearly threw his cup down on the tray as he
sprang up and rushed to the other side of the cabin. The sight was
breathtaking.

Pike had seen all the drawings and the model
Cain had painstakingly made but none of those could hold a candle
to the sight of the real thing. It was like watching the Seahawks
on TV. He enjoyed the game, but there was no substitute for being
at Qwest Field in person. Hearing the actual roar of the crowd,
smelling the hot dogs and popcorn,
feeling
the excitement as
it shot through the fans when the Hawks scored a touchdown.
Television gave you the game, not the experience.