Gale Force

35

By morning, the gale was a foregone conclusion.

The waves had grown to ten-foot swells overnight, gloomy gray rollers that rocked the Gale Force fore and aft, coating her decks with salt spray, spilling coffee and ruining sleep. McKenna and Al Parent traded off all night, jogging the tug in the swell, keeping her bow pointed to the waves. McKenna watched the Lion, searching for any sign that she was flooding. Waiting for the moment the big ship finally sank.

Morning was a gray horizon to match the sea, the Lion drifting north at a knot and a half an hour, the Salvation’s efforts to arrest the drift not amounting to much. The wind was gusting to twenty-five, the gale warning all over the forecast. It would arrive in earnest by afternoon, and its heavy winds would push the vast, exposed bulk of the Lion northeast toward the Aleutians at an increasing speed, until there was nothing anyone could do but pray she sank before she made landfall. If she stayed afloat, McKenna knew, she’d be on the beach within a couple of days.

McKenna called the crew to the wheelhouse. They crowded in, Matt and Stacey and Court Harrington around the chart table, Nelson Ridley beside McKenna at the wheel, Al and Jason Parent by the doorway, and Spike on the dash. They looked out at the Pacific Lion, the Salvation at her stern, her flimsy towline drawing taut, then slackening as the waves battered both vessels, the Salvation’s black exhaust nearly obscuring the Lion’s stern.

“He’s got to get her moving,” Ridley muttered. “What in hell is Magnusson doing, farting around over there?”

“There’s no way he can move that ship,” McKenna replied, “and he’s a fool for even trying. So let’s get our pumps and generators ready to go. Climbing equipment, too. Matt and Stacey, I need you inside the Lion as soon as we get our line on.”

The Jonases nodded. “You know us, boss,” Matt said. “We’ll be ready.”

“Al and Jason, you get the towline ready,” McKenna continued. “We’re going to rig a bridle at the stern, stabilize her, see if we can’t put some distance between us and the Aleutians before this storm takes over. We’re going to need every inch of open water, from the looks of it.”

“Aye-aye,” Al agreed.

“Good. Nelson and I will join Matt and Stacey on the ship. It’s all hands for this job.” She turned to Harrington. “You have that computer of yours fired up?”

“Just waiting on the numbers,” Harrington said.

“Perfect.” McKenna turned back to the window. It was eight in the morning, and today, she knew, would determine the Lion’s fate—and the Gale Force’s. “This is our wreck,” she told the crew. “So let’s be ready to claim her.”