by Radclyffe
Reluctantly, Alex and the other coastguardsman took seats. Cramer took a position midway down one side of the group of tables in neutral territory. Claudia sat at Austin’s right and Gem ended up sitting on her left. If Austin stretched out her hand on the table, their fingers would touch. She ached for just an instant’s contact, but when she glanced at Gem, Gem shifted subtly in her chair, breaking eye contact.
Austin squared her shoulders and scanned the faces watching her. She’d done this enough times to know the way to keep control was to lay out the problem and the solution before dissenters could gain a foothold. “As all of you are aware, Rig 86 is a semisubmersible drilling platform operated by GOP about fifty miles offshore. We have a slow but containable leak in the main drill shaft, and we’re concerned the approaching storm may cause an escalation of oil loss. To be on the safe side, we are proactively instituting emergency procedures to ensure the integrity of the shoreline and waters.”
Alex Martin’s eyes glinted. “Why are we just hearing about this?”
“Because at this point,” Austin said smoothly, “we don’t have any evidence of oil on the surface or tracking underwater, but the effect of the storm is a variable we can’t predict. GOP is naturally desirous to do everything possible to prevent damage to the coastline and wildlife.”
“Naturally,” Gem said, the first word she’d uttered, quiet but sharp-edged with sarcasm. “How long have you been watching the well?”
“The wells are under constant surveillance, as I’m sure you know,” Austin said just as quietly, carefully keeping any direct reference to the timeline off the record. Of course Gem would do the math and deduce Austin must have known of the problem days before.
“I’ve been asked,” Claudia interjected, drawing attention away from Austin and giving her a chance to breathe, “to consult on the impact of the storm on the rig and the potential for escalating leaks. Right now, as Dr. Germaine noted, the situation is stable and under control, but Norma’s tracking directly for us, and growing in speed and dimension hourly.” She turned to Gem as if knowing she was the other true power in the room. “This is going to be a large, powerful storm when it comes ashore. I suspect the governor will order evacuation of the island and neighboring areas sometime today.”
“We’re not going anywhere.” Emily, her chin thrust forward belligerently. She glanced at Gem as if for affirmation.
“Dr. Costanzas is right,” Gem said. “We are not leaving the sanctuary. I’ve been in contact with FEMA and we have teams on their way to help fortify the shoreline against the surge. There’s not much we can do about the trees if we get hurricane-force winds, but we’ll be prepared for the reparations if nothing else.” She looked at Austin. “How likely is it we’re going to get oil coming ashore?”
Gem’s gaze was direct and hard, her tone evenly modulated. Austin couldn’t tell if she was furious, unmoved, or had already simply dismissed her. “My guess—”
Cramer cleared his throat. “Actually, Dr. Martin,” he said to Gem in an officious tone, “it’s really not possible for Dr. Germaine to make that kind of assessment. We’re here because Global Oil—”
“Dr. Germaine,” Gem said as if the attorney hadn’t spoken, “your opinion is?”
“I think we’ll have oil headed toward shore along with the storm surge,” Austin said, ignoring the annoyed sigh from Cramer, “which is why we plan on deploying booms this morning to buffer the coastline and prevent that from happening. We’ll also be instituting all the usual protocols in advance of the leak surfacing.”
“I’ll want details,” Gem said.
“Of course.”
Alex Martin spoke up. “What about the four ships at anchor off the rig? You need to get your people off the sea before the storm hits.”
“We’ll commence transporting all nonessential personnel out of the area within the next twelve hours,” Austin said. “The ships will remain deployed as long as possible to assist in the containment procedures.”
“How many people on the rig now?” Alex asked.
“Just six members of the drill team, three pilots, the incident commander, the OTL, and me. Dr. Spencer will remain he—”
“I’ll be returning to the rig,” Claudia said, “for the time being. It’s the best way to judge the stability of the platform. The on-site readings are far more accurate than anything—”
“Once the storm tracks as far as the rig,” Alex said, “we may not be able to fly. Evacuation will be nearly impossible.”
“We’ll see that the rig is evacuated before that,” Austin said.
“I’ll make sure you do,” Alex said.
“So what now?” Gem said. “It will still be hours before the FEMA teams arrive.”
Austin focused on Gem, happy that Gem held her gaze even if her eyes were shuttered and unreadable. “I’ll coordinate with Commander Martin regarding the containment procedures at sea. It makes the most sense for you to take charge of the landside of things. You know the sanctuary, the critical areas that will need protection, and the location of wildlife at risk if the spill gets past the booms.”
“How much oil are we talking about?”
Cramer interrupted hastily. “There is no oil at this point, I’d like to remind everyone. Under other circumstances, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. GOP has instituted the appropriate and required procedures to control the slow escape from the drill site, but unfortunately, with the weather—”
“I think we all understand the situation,” Gem said abruptly, never looking away from Austin. “How much oil, Dr. Germaine?”
“I don’t know,” Austin said. “We’ve got nothing on the surface yet but there’s a potential for major contamination if the rig founders in the storm. Then the integrity of the drill shaft is at risk.”
“Then we need to prepare for the worst.”
“That would be my advice,” Austin said.
“I think we all know what we have to do, then.” Gem rose and walked out.
“I need to brief my CO,” Alex said. “Then I’d like to sit down with you, Dr. Germaine—”
“Austin, please,” Austin said, straining to follow the sound of Gem’s footsteps down the hall.
“Austin,” Alex said, “and get a precise accounting of the ships, manpower, and their allocation. Then we’ll talk about evacuation procedures.”
Cramer stood and closed his briefcase. “I am staying in town tonight, but I plan on leaving first thing tomorrow morning. You can reach me after that by phone or through the company offices.”
“Fine.” Austin pushed back from the table. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Cramer shook his head. “Lousy time for a hurricane.”
Claudia smiled faintly at Alex as he shrugged into his Armani raincoat, lifted his briefcase, and strode out. “Is there ever a good time for a hurricane?”
Alex shook her head, a quick grin softening the sharp angles of her face, before turning to her aide. “Get the car, Seaman. I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the coastguardsman said and nodded to Claudia on his way out. “Ma’am.”
Claudia laughed softly. “I think I might be starting to get used to that, and I’m not certain that’s an altogether good thing.”
Alex smiled. She hadn’t expected to see Dr. Claudia Spencer again, but she was glad that she had. She’d worked with all kinds of teams when disasters struck: federal, state, private, and environmental. She’d been deployed to northern New Jersey after Hurricane Sandy. She liked to think she didn’t have any preconceived biases. She especially didn’t want an adversarial relationship with Claudia Spencer. “How long you been out at the rig?”
Claudia considered her answer carefully. She knew the laws requiring a corporation to reveal a potential contamination situation, and she agreed with Austin and Eloise that they hadn’t quite reached that point. All the same, as a representative of the company, she had to be careful. “Not long before you came aboard.”
“I’m glad.” Claudia relaxed, realizing just how much she hadn’t wanted a conflict with the very handsome Coast Guard officer. “I don’t think your—sister, is it?—feels the same way.”
Alex’s expression darkened. “Gem is worried about the sanctuary. This place…these birds and animals and every blade of grass…is precious to her. She’s been through this kind of thing before. She knows what to do, and there’s no one better at it than her.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Alex was loyal, that was to be expected, but she also seemed to be aware, as was Claudia, more was happening here than either understood. Austin had alluded to complications, and after Claudia had met Gem Martin, she’d gotten a clue as to just what those issues might be. Gem was the woman in the sketches Austin had drawn. Their studious avoidance of each other was another clue something had gone wrong. She sighed. “The next few days are going to be hard for everyone, and not just because of the storm and the oil.”
Alex moved down to a seat next to Claudia. “You really should reconsider going back out to the rig.”
“I was hired to do a job,” Claudia said, momentarily distracted by the subtle scent of spice and sandalwood. Alex’s eyes were as dark as her sister’s were blue, and right now they focused on Claudia with laser-like intensity. “But I appreciate your concern.”
“I don’t have to tell you how quickly things can change out there if the storm picks up speed or the front expands. We might be looking at hours instead of days.”
“I’m aware,” Claudia said, “just as I’m aware that you and your team will be out on the seas through all of it.”
“We’re trained for it.”
“The crews on the rigs are trained for emergencies too. And I promise, I’m no swashbuckler.” Claudia lightly touched Alex’s hand to relay her appreciation. “I’ll get to land in plenty of time.”
“I’ll take you at your word,” Alex said.
“Good. Now I need to get back to work.” Claudia stood. “I hope I see you again under less hectic conditions.”
“I hope so too.”
❖
Gem walked out through the front door into a dank gray morning, with no trace of sun and a cold wet wind blowing in from the sea. A morning not unlike many others this time of year, but today the ominous atmosphere settled heavily in her heart. She strode a few steps into the parking lot and stopped, taking a deep breath to settle her nerves and regroup. Of all the scenarios she’d fabricated between Austin’s late-night call and this early-morning meeting, the truth had been nowhere on her radar. Austin Germaine wasn’t Ace Gardner, the graphic artist who had sketched a superhero with bold unerring strokes on the back of a place mat in some small coastal restaurant while a storm lashed the windows and they shared intimacies of their lives. She wasn’t the woman who’d knelt in the rain changing a tire, or poured a glass of wine while listening to Gem talk about some of her most private experiences. Austin was a troubleshooter for an oil company, a fixer of some kind, undoubtedly very intelligent, and a spinner of webs.
“Gem,” Austin said from behind her.
“I don’t think this is a good time to talk,” Gem said without turning around.
“There isn’t going to be a better time,” Austin said. “I couldn’t tell you earlier.”
“I kept thinking we weren’t strangers, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I knew I was not myself, but I somehow talked myself into believing I was acting so out of character because something unique had happened between us.” She shook her head and laughed brutally. “I thought I had gotten over telling myself lies a long time ago.”
“Gem,” Austin said wearily. She wanted to touch her, wanted to reach out and stroke the stiff anger from her back, ease the disillusionment from her jaw. “It wasn’t a lie. It was real.”
Gem turned, her eyes glacially cold. “No, it wasn’t real. It was a fantasy. I didn’t know you. I still don’t know you. And you know what? I don’t want to.”
Austin couldn’t argue that Gem’s feelings weren’t valid. She had every right to be hurt and angry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the situation here, and I couldn’t—”
Gem shook her head. “We have nothing to discuss except what needs to be done to prevent the destruction of this sanctuary. If the oil reaches the shore, I can’t even begin to calculate the enormity of the loss. I don’t care what it takes, we can’t let that happen.”
“We won’t. I promise.”
Gem smiled bitterly. “I don’t want your promises. Or your assurances. But you must be good, very good, at what you do, or you wouldn’t be here. So the only thing I want from you, Dr. Germaine, is your expertise. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
“We have work to do.” Austin reached for her arm to keep her near and drew back at the last instant. Her touch would not be welcome and knowing that was a knife in her depths. “I want to go over the site maps with you before we deploy the booms. You can tell me where we need to concentrate them.”
“Fine. How soon?”
“An hour ago.”
Gem’s smile was brittle. “Don’t you really mean three days ago?”
Austin sighed. “I didn’t—”
“Never mind. I understand you can’t implicate GOP in any way. That’s your real job, isn’t it? To protect GOP at any cost?”
Austin reined in her temper. She’d heard these accusations before too. Coming from Gem it hurt, but attempting to explain there were limits to the lengths she would go for the company would only make the situation worse now. She’d have to prove she cared what happened to the environment. “Where would you like to meet to review the topos?”
“I have an office next to the lab I showed you yesterday. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes. Right now I’m going for a walk.”
Austin stuffed her hands in her pockets and watched her walk away. She’d known this was coming, known she would lose, but she hadn’t imagined how much it would hurt. Not even close.
Chapter Twenty
Gem took the first trail she came to behind the visitors’ center and strode rapidly away from the building, the parking lot, the people, civilization. If she could, she’d keep walking until the wild grasses swallowed her, absorbing her inconsequential existence into the natural ebb and flow of life as it had persisted for eons, governed by nothing beyond the laws of nature. Not passion, not desire, not fantasy. No illusion, no delusions, only the beauty and violence of unadorned life. After ten mindless minutes, she slowed enough to look at the darkening sky, register the impact of the rising wind on her neck, and note the heavy weight of moisture in the air. The storm—no, the hurricane—was reality too, and she had choices to make.
She could tell her team to evacuate, get into her rental car, and be off the island and back to the safety of the mainland before it hit, leaving the fate of the sanctuary to the whims of nature as she had just imagined she preferred for herself. But she wouldn’t leave, couldn’t leave, and believed without doubt she was as much a part of the natural cycle as the coming storm. If she could save the habitat and creatures of the sanctuary, she must. And to do that, she needed to work with Austin Germaine.
Austin. Still so hard to absorb that the woman she’d spent days with, dreamed of, slept with, was so much a part of this and she hadn’t known. Gem tried to step back, to imagine what her impression would have been if today had been the first moment she’d met Austin. Would she work with her? Of course. She’d have to. Would she trust her? Unknown. Austin seemed forthright, concerned, and knowledgeable. But there was no mistaking her allegiance, either. She worked for GOP, and while Gem didn’t doubt the company and, by extension, Austin, cared what happened to the coastal environment, they undoubtedly cared a great deal more about the image and financial status of the company. Would she like her? In all likelihood, she wouldn’t have given Austin more than professional attention, and that did not
require liking or disliking.
None of that mattered now. She couldn’t be objective. Anger at being forced into a powerless position resurfaced. Austin had lied to her. All right, not exactly, but close enough to make Gem feel discounted and manipulated, something she’d sworn she’d never be again. Austin had kept something back, something enormous, something she knew would have a major impact on Gem’s work, on her responsibilities, and on her relationship with Austin.
So many questions she couldn’t answer after the fact. Would she have slept with Austin if she had known Austin’s real purpose for traveling to the island? Would she have gotten involved with her if she’d known she’d have to work with her in a matter of days?
Gem thought the answer to both questions was no. She would have kept her distance. She would have maintained professional boundaries. She would never have looked at Austin and seen the intense, focused, attentive woman who had drawn her out and set her on fire.
And damn it, she couldn’t quite bring herself to be sorry for that.
Frustrated and confused, Gem checked her watch. She’d been gone at least fifteen minutes and she needed to return to the sanctuary. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, run from Austin or her responsibilities. She’d work with her and relegate the intimate moments they’d spent together to the past, where those moments belonged and where they would stay. The ache of loss would eventually disappear. She knew that from experience.
As she crossed the parking lot, Alex called her name. She slowed as Alex jogged over.
“Hey,” Alex said, “I’ve been looking for you. I’m headed back to the station and then out to patrol. Are you sure you want to stay here?”
“You know I have to,” Gem said. “It won’t be my first storm, and I’m the logical one to assess the damage and coordinate recovery.”
“You’re not looking at just a storm,” Alex said. “You might be looking at a major oil spill too.”
“God, I hope not.” Gem balled her fists in the pockets of her windbreaker. “Even more reason for me to stay and organize the various crews. FEMA and the GOP people don’t know this environment the way I do.”
