Category Five

Home > Other > Category Five > Page 19
Category Five Page 19

by Philip Donlay


  “My story has nothing to do with anything concerning you,” Erin protested weakly.

  “What I want right now, from both of you, is total cooperation. You each seem to have pieces of this puzzle and you’re not leaving until I know everything.” Reynolds turned around, visibly annoyed at the ringing phone. He picked up the offending cell phone and tossed it to Donovan.

  “Answer that damn thing!” Reynolds snapped. “It’s been going off all morning.”

  “Hello.” Donovan had caught it cleanly.

  “Where in the hell are you!” William’s relief was clearly evident.

  “I’m sitting in DIA headquarters. I’m with Director Reynolds.”

  “There’s a problem. It’s the Galileo. Michael’s in trouble.”

  A jolt of fear shot through Donovan. “What happened?”

  “The FAA called Eco-Watch. They in turn called me. Michael is out over the hurricane and he’s had an engine failure.”

  “Oh, God, no.” Besides Michael and the others…Lauren was on the flight.

  “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  “You’re not going anywhere!” Reynolds barked. “Now get off the phone.”

  “William,” Donovan exhaled heavily, “Director Reynolds says I can’t leave. Do whatever you have to do to fix this. Anything.”

  “Give me five minutes,” William said, then hung up.

  “Now as I was saying.” Reynolds acted as if he were collecting his thoughts. “As far as I’m concerned, you two are in substantial trouble.”

  “Director Reynolds.” Donovan gathered himself up and stood. “As much as I’d love to stand here and debate what is obviously an internal DIA problem, I can’t. I’m leaving. An Eco-Watch plane is in trouble. We both have people aboard who need our help.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Reynolds’ tone softened.

  “All I know is what I’ve just told you. I don’t have any more information than that, which is why I have to go.”

  “I don’t know what you think you can do, but you’re not leaving.”

  “Look. I’ve had about enough of your political posturing.” Donovan fought his rising emotions. He had to get out of here. He leveled an icy glare at Reynolds. “I’ve done nothing and I doubt if Ms. Walker has done anything either. Charge us or let us go.”

  “Excuse me, Director?” The door had opened and Reynolds’s secretary had stuck her head into the room.

  “I said I didn’t want to be disturbed!”

  “You have a priority-one call from the White House,” she said, and immediately shrunk from the doorway.

  Reynolds turned and snatched the phone from its cradle. “Director Reynolds. Of course I’ll hold.” Reynolds stared wide-eyed at Donovan. “Yes, Mr. President.”

  Donovan turned and gave Erin a reassuring nod. He knew this call was William’s doing.

  “Yes, sir, he’s with me now. I understand. I’ll do everything I can, sir. Thank you sir.”

  Reynolds reverently replaced the phone and rubbed his eyes with both hands.

  Donovan reached to help Erin to her feet. Reynolds had just gotten an earful from the President of the United States. It would take him a second to recover.

  “Let’s go,” he whispered. Erin took his hand when the secretary opened the door again.

  “There’s an emergency in Operations! They need you right away, sir!”

  “Nash, you’re free to go. So are you, Ms. Walker.”

  “I’ll want a helicopter ready as quickly as possible.” Donovan turned to the secretary. “Do you know if the emergency is with regard to an Eco-Watch flight?”

  “Yes. They’re talking to them right now.”

  “May I come with you?” Donovan looked expectantly at Reynolds. He knew the answer would be yes.

  “Follow me.” Reynolds nodded and handed Donovan his wallet and keys.

  Donovan’s heart was pounding as Reynolds led them to a heavy metal door posted with a dozen security warnings. Someone threw it open as they approached. Within seconds, Donovan was standing behind a console with a large screen in front of him. It took him a moment to understand what he was looking at. To his left, a man seated directly in front of the composite image began to speak.

  “Okay, now. You’re about to make another turn. This one is going to be to the right. Let’s make it fifteen degrees. You’ll be on that heading for ten miles. This is going to be the first area of weather you’re going to penetrate. It’s a narrow band, only six miles across. Hopefully, it won’t be too bad.”

  “We understand,” Lauren’s voice came from an overhead speaker. “Just tell us when to start the turn.”

  A knot formed in Donovan’s stomach. Where were Michael and Randy? Why was Lauren relaying information? Donovan could tell from the sound of her voice that she had her oxygen mask on. He focused on the screen until he found the tiny infrared image that was the Galileo. It was surrounded by massive thunderstorms. He could see the course the Gulfstream was trying to fly.

  “I need to know what in the hell is going on!” Reynolds bellowed as he squinted at the screen.

  “We’re trying to thread them through the storms to get to the safety of the eye,” Steven said without looking up. “They’ve lost an engine and also their pressurization.”

  “How far have they descended?” Donovan leaned forward and put a hand on the back of Steven’s chair. “Have they said anything about injuries?”

  “At last report, they were down below 30,000 feet. I have no idea about the people on board. Dr. McKenna called us directly on this line.”

  “Can I talk to them? I’m with Eco-Watch,” Donovan said.

  Steven turned to look at Reynolds, who nodded.

  “Here you go.” Steven handed him a telephone handset. “You’re on speaker, and they need to turn in a minute and a half.”

  “Lauren.” Donovan’s throat threatened to close off. “Lauren, it’s Donovan. Are you all right?”

  “Donovan! So far we’re fine. But the airplane is really messed up.”

  Donovan winced at the fear in Lauren’s voice. “Can I talk to Michael?”

  “Hang on,” Lauren replied.

  Donovan watched the second hand creep around a large chronograph across the room. He felt as if events were hurtling past at an incredible rate, but the slowly dragging clock told him otherwise.

  “It won’t work,” Lauren reported. “To talk on the phone, I have to pull my oxygen mask out from my face a little bit. It takes two hands and he’s busy flying.”

  “Are all the instruments working?”

  “Michael says yes. But he wants you to know he thinks the controls are damaged.”

  “They need to get ready to turn,” Steven interrupted. “It’s going to be a fifteen degree turn to the right.”

  “Lauren, get ready to turn.”

  “Now!” Steven pointed at Donovan.

  “Tell Michael, fifteen to the right. And hold on.” Donovan looked on as the small ghostly image on the screen began to turn toward a solid band of echoes.

  “We’re turning,” Lauren replied.

  Donovan watched as the Gulfstream penetrated the line. He held his breath and prayed they’d make it through.

  “It’s getting rough!” Lauren transmitted. “Oh my God!”

  Donovan grimaced. He knew firsthand what it was like to fly into a thunderstorm. It was one of the most terrifying things a pilot could experience. He pictured Michael at the controls and knew that if any pilot could get it done, it was Michael. Erin moved closer. Donovan glanced over and saw that her face had gone shock white.

  “Thirty more seconds,” Steven reported.

  “Lauren,” Donovan urged. “You’re almost through.”

  All ears were on the speaker, which remained silent. “Lauren. Can you hear me?” Donovan stared helplessly at the screen. He had no idea how accurate the satellite image was. If the Gulfstream broke apart, how long would it take to register on the monitor?

  “I
show they’re through,” Steven said, calmly. “They’ll have a bit of breathing room before the next line.”

  “Donovan, are you still there?” Lauren’s shaken voice came over the speaker.

  “I’m here. Is everything okay?”

  “That was pretty bad. Michael doesn’t know how much more of that the airplane can take. How close are we to the eye?”

  “They’ll have one more area to get through.” Steven used the tip of his pen to show Donovan the intended path on the screen. “Right now we’re going to work them around the storm this way and all that will be left are these thunderstorms. Then they’ll be in the clear.”

  Donovan looked at the last area Steve had referred to…It was part of the eye wall. His heart sank at the sight. “Lauren, you only have one more section of the storm to get through. It’s going to be rough. How high are you right now?”

  “We’ve managed to level off at 27,000 feet.”

  Donovan nodded—27,000 feet was the maximum single engine service ceiling of the Gulfstream. He knew Michael would have the jet slowed to ride out the turbulence. It was Michael’s report of control damage that worried Donovan the most. A perfectly good Gulfstream would probably stay in one piece through the eye wall, but a damaged one might be nothing better than a crap-shoot. A wave of guilt came over Donovan. He was supposed to be flying the Gulfstream. It should be him up there with Michael and Lauren. If he lost them, they’d be added to the list of people in his life who died. Donovan shook himself free of the unthinkable. He turned to Steven.

  “How long do you think it’ll be before they make it into the eye?”

  “Hard to say.” Steven rubbed his eyes. “The bands of weather keep shifting.”

  “Donovan, it’s Michael. I have a few seconds here to talk.”

  “Go ahead.” Relief swept over Donovan at the sound of his friend’s voice.

  “This airplane is pretty screwed up. Is there anyway those techno-wizards down there can use their satellite to zoom in, tell me what I’m dealing with, such as how much damage there is to the plane?”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Donovan said, quickly. “I’ll be there in the da Vinci as fast as I can. You’ve got a lot of fuel. Let’s do this right. Do you have any idea what happened?”

  “Yeah. Lauren came up to tell us there was a fight going on in the back. Randy went to help. I think I heard a gunshot right before the number two engine came apart.”

  Donovan leveled a withering glare at Reynolds.

  “And just for the record,” Michael continued. “This hurricane is starting to piss me off.”

  Donovan was glad Michael could still make a joke. “I’m on my way. Listen for us on the Eco-Watch frequency. Donovan out.”

  “Where’s that helicopter?” Donovan spun towards Reynolds. “I need it five minutes ago. You and I will talk about this later.”

  “Someone take him to the helicopter pad!” Reynolds raised his voice.

  Donovan turned to Steven. “How can you and I stay in touch?”

  “You can use satellite phone, HF, or VHF. Take your pick.” Steven scribbled the numbers on a pad of paper and handed it over.

  “Your helicopter is waiting.” A young woman put down a phone and moved to escort Donovan out of the room.

  “I’m going with you,” Erin said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You promised me an exclusive.”

  “Come on.” Donovan let it look like this was her victory, but he had no intention of letting her out of his sight. “But you’re my assistant first, reporter second. Nothing leaks about this until it’s over. You got that?”

  Erin nodded as they blew out of the room and hurried to the waiting helicopter. As they ran, Donovan pulled out cell phone and hit the speed-dial for Eco-Watch.

  “Operations, this is Peggy.”

  “Peggy, it’s Donovan.” He was relieved it was her; Peggy had been with Eco-Watch longer than any of the other dispatchers. She was intelligent and deadly efficient.

  “Oh thank God! We’ve been trying to find you. Michael’s in trouble.”

  “I know. I just spoke with him. Have Frank get the da Vinci ready to fly, and find someone to go with me. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Frank already has the airplane on the ramp, he’s just finished fueling. Nicolas should be here any minute. I know he’s new, but he’s the closest. We’ll be ready to roll when you get here. I’ve already filed the flight plan and air traffic control knows to give you priority handling.”

  “Good work, Peggy.” Donovan followed Erin through a door that led outside. In the distance he could see the same helicopter that Lauren had gotten on the other morning. Its rotors were turning.

  “Are Michael and Randy okay?” Peggy asked.

  “Michael is…I don’t know about Randy. See you in a few minutes.”

  “Please hurry,” was all Peggy said before she hung up.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  He’s on his way.” Michael handed the phone back to Lauren and again put both hands on the controls. “Once we get safely into the eye, I’m going to need you to get to the back and find out what the hell happened!”

  “Donovan’s coming?” Lauren took the phone from him.

  “Yeah. He’s going to use the other plane and fly out here. He’ll be able to check out the damage to our plane. If I’m thinking what he’s thinking—once we know what we’re dealing with, he can lead us out of here.”

  Lauren nodded. It sounded feasible. The Gulfstream rocked in the light turbulence as sheets of precipitation were slung at the windshield. Outside, the opaque gray nothingness of the storm began to close in on her. She turned around and looked back. She could barely see the right wingtip. The levels of darkness came and went. She knew they were playing a deadly game of cat and mouse inside the worst hurricane ever recorded. Helena had tried to kill her once already; Lauren couldn’t help but wonder if she’d succeed this time. Lauren almost pictured Helena as a living, breathing entity. She wondered if, in some supernatural way, Helena knew that Lauren was out to kill her, destroy her before she could make landfall. As if to answer Lauren’s question, another series of violent jolts battered the airplane.

  “Jesus!” Michael battled to keep the airplane steady. “Ask them what in the hell is going on.”

  “Steven, it’s getting rougher. Can you get us out of this?”

  “I’m trying. The storm is shifting. Three minutes ago you had a clear path. Now it’s closing in.” Lauren was thrust against her harness. She felt the sting of the straps as they dug into her hips and shoulders. The world outside turned darker; torrents of water lashed at them. She was having trouble holding the phone to her ear.

  “This is turning into a mess,” Steven said anxiously. “You need to make a ninety degree turn to the right. Everything’s closing in. You have to turn. There’s no other way. It’s the shortest distance to the eye.”

  “Turn ninety degrees to the right!” Lauren quickly relayed to Michael. “We’re closed off. We have to make a run for the eye, NOW!” Lauren had to shout against the noise of the rain. She could see the determination in Michael’s eyes as he fought against vicious up and down drafts to turn the plane. The tail slewed back and forth as Helena’s sheering winds tore at them from both sides. Lauren looked at the onboard radar. It was useless. A barrier of water kept the signals from spreading outward. Nothing beyond their nose was registering.

  Lauren cringed as the turbulence worsened. Despite the seat belt pulled hard across her lap, she came up off the seat, only to be pressed down hard moments later. She could hardly focus on the instrument panel. She had no idea how Michael could fly the plane.

  “How much further?” Lauren screamed into the phone, but her plea was met with silence.

  “Steven! How much further?” She had a bad feeling that the severity of the storm had broken up the digital satellite signal. If she ever talked to Steven again it would be because they’d survived and made it to the eye.

  �
�Lauren!” Michael managed to transmit. “I need your help. Put your hand on the left throttle. I need both hands to fly!”

  Lauren did as she was told. The throttle felt foreign in her hand.

  “Pull it back three inches!” Michael ordered as the airspeed built rapidly in the maelstrom.

  Lauren pulled it back. The dials on the instrument panel moved counterclockwise.

  “Get ready to push it all the way forward to the stops.”

  The airplane vibrated and groaned as they flew into even heavier rain.

  “Push it now. Fast!”

  Michael’s calm, yet firm voice sounded in Lauren’s headset. Without hesitation, she jammed the lever forward. The Gulfstream lurched forward and flew out of the grip of the massive down-draft.

  “Perfect. Now ease it back one inch.”

  Lauren’s arm trembled as she tried to measure the exact position Michael wanted. “Like that?”

  “Yes. But be ready. We’re not finished yet.”

  Lauren nodded. Even though the air in the cockpit was icy cold, a sticky heat spread over her body. The warm flush of fear swept through her.

  “Ease it back just a little. Half an inch.”

  Lauren battled her fear and moved the throttle as instructed.

  “OH! SHIT!” Michael yelled. “All the way forward!”

  Lauren couldn’t move. The bottom felt like it had dropped out from under them. Her hand had been flung from the throttle. Against the negative G-forces, Lauren forced her hand downward to grip the cold, black throttle. She slammed it all the way to the stops and held it there. She whispered a small prayer for Michael, then herself.

  “Get ready to pull it back!” Michael yelled.

  Lauren knew they were caught in the massive up and down drafts near the eye wall. Back at her lab, she’d marveled at its sheer force, but now she and Michael were inside, fighting for their lives. The darkness deepened as they plummeted downward toward the ocean. As quickly as it began, Lauren was forced down in her seat. Her outstretched arm felt as if 100 pound weights had suddenly been attached. She held on to the throttle for dear life.

  “Pull it back halfway!”

  Lauren fought the G-forces. The skin on her face was being pulled down, and her head grew heavy. She eased the throttle back, but felt like she’d gone too far. Trying to concentrate, she adjusted it forward. She glanced at Michael. He nodded as his eyes swept the panel. A quick look at the altimeter showed them being swept upward through 30,000 feet.

 

‹ Prev