Arctic Fire (24 page)

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Authors: Paul Byers

Tags: #thriller, #adventure, #action, #seattle, #new york, #water crisis, #water shortage, #titanic, #methane gas, #iceberg, #f86 sabre, #f15, #mariners, #habakkuk, #86, #water facts, #methane hydrate, #sonic boom, #f15 eagle, #geoffrey pyke, #pykrete, #habbakuk, #jasper maskelyne, #maskelyne

BOOK: Arctic Fire
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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 wind. 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.

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