Gale Force

69

They left Al Parent on the Gale Force to tend to the tug—and, via sat phone, to his insomniac grandson. The rest of the crew flew to the Lion in the Munro’s Dolphin, the last of their portable pneumatic pumps hanging from the helicopter’s hoist.

McKenna watched the Gale Force shrink beneath the helicopter, and tried to work through her strategy. More accurately, she tried to figure out how to implement Court Harrington’s strategy while risking the least number of her crew.

“We’ll work in teams,” she told the others. “Matt and Stacey, you guys take Ridley to the bow. Get one pump in position, then move your old pump from the cargo deck down to deck one as well. I’ll take Jason aft. Court, you’re topside.”

Everyone nodded. “Sounds good,” Matt said.

“Those pumps are heavy. A hundred pounds apiece. We’re going to need all of them, so take your time. Don’t try to be a hero, just get the job done.”

“Speak for yourself, skipper,” Ridley said, grinning. “You know you’re the only hero we’ve got.”

McKenna shook her head. “No heroes today. Strictly professional. Let’s get it done.”

HARRINGTON’S PLAN INVOLVED pumping seawater from the Lion’s portside tanks to the starboard tanks, until the ship was properly balanced, then taking stock of the list and adjusting as necessary. It meant McKenna and her team would have to lug four one-hundred-pound pneumatic pumps to the lowest reaches of the ship—the labyrinth on deck one—and run pumps and hoses across the width of the bottom deck.

The portside tanks were full, and fully pressurized, and any mistake could send that ballast water flooding into deck one, drowning whoever was down there within minutes. There were four pumps. Four opportunities for failure.

McKenna and Jason Parent wrestled the first pump through the after stairway and down the narrow access hatch to the first deck. Hustled back up to help Harrington lower the heavy hoses down behind.

The pump was heavy, a beast to maneuver in the ship’s narrow confines. McKenna and Jason sweated and swore, muscling the pump through the access hatch and easing it, slowly, down to the lowest deck.

“Cripes,” Jason said, wiping sweat from his brow. “You’re kind of a badass, skipper.”

“You and me both,” McKenna replied. “This is teamwork.”

They wrestled the first pump into position, just ahead of the engine room on deck one. Then they climbed again, up to the fourth deck, where McKenna descended among the Nissans to where the second pump waited, left over from the crew’s initial efforts to pump out the hold. The skipper untied the pump and fastened a line to it, guided the machine up between the long row of vehicles as Jason hefted it back up to the stairs.

Then they maneuvered the pump through the access hatch to the first deck again, hauled it through the maze to the stern ballast tanks. They tied down the pump and ran hoses in both directions, up to the starboard tank, and down to the portside. McKenna connected the hose to the starboard tank’s emergency valve.

“I’m going to wait until the rest of the pumps are hooked up to do the portside,” she told Jason. “Don’t want to get this party started too early.”

Jason looked at her, then past her, down the long corridor to the portside tank. He shivered. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d say that’s a good idea.”

THE CLIMB TOPSIDE was as long and arduous as ever. The rest of the crew was waiting there. “What took you so long, skipper?” Ridley asked. “You take the lad on a tour?”

McKenna wiped the sweat from her face. “Just lazy, I guess. You guys been here a while?”

“He’s just messing with you,” Stacey said. “We just got here. All the pumps in position.”

“Perfect,” McKenna said. “Okay, we need four people down below to watch the pumps. I’ll take one. Ridley, Matt and Jason, you guys take the others.”

Stacey and Court swapped glances. “What about us?”

“Stay up here. Get ready to relay information down to us, if necessary.” She looked at Stacey. “I don’t want you and Matt down there at the same time. If something goes wrong—”

“If something goes wrong, I don’t want to be left alone on this earth without my husband,” Stacey finished. “I appreciate the sentiment, skipper, but this is your operation. We could use you and Court topside to coordinate.”

McKenna thought about it. “Damn it, fine. But be careful, all of you. Find somewhere safe to camp out, somewhere you can get out quick if something goes wrong, understand?”

“Got it,” Stacey said.

“Aye-aye,” said Matt.

McKenna looked at Jason Parent. The kid looked nervous, a little, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

A married couple and a new dad, McKenna thought. You could be sending them to their deaths.

She shook the thought away. “You good?” she asked Jason.

Jason stood straighter. “I’m good.”

“Okay. Synchronize your watches. I’ll give you an hour to get down to your stations and in position. Sixty minutes from now, we start pumping. Good luck.”

She watched her crew disperse, Matt and Stacey toward the after two access points, Jason and Ridley toward the bow. Court Harrington stood beside her. He was watching, too.

“This going to work?” McKenna asked him.

Harrington set his jaw. “Yeah,” he said. “Yes, damn it, it will.”