Sea Station Umbra

Chapter 24. Breakaway

Wiping his eyes, he reached down with the screwdriver and shorted the two terminals flashing a brief spark. I checked my watch as the timer he had just pointed out began to count down with one-second flashes.

“Go, go, go!” he yelled standing up waiting for me get out of his way.

Through the Z-room and vault, we raced avoiding overturned chairs and computer consoles as we stumbled toward the core room. Having cleared the vault he turned back then leaned against the heavy bulkhead door and slammed it closed and twirled its locking wheel.

All we had to do now was round the core room and enter the mess. I glanced at my watch and saw only twenty-two seconds left until the bolts would disintegrate finally releasing us from the monopole’s fury.

“Hurry Dave! Twenty seconds!”

Rushing around me, he stopped in his tracks.

“Damn! Some idiot closed the mess door,” he screamed.

He fought the hatch wheel for seconds finally freeing it and spun it until the thick door unlocked and swung forcefully on its hinges into the tilting room, crashing against the bulkhead wall and rebounding. Its unexpected force yanked him into the room and sent him sliding and rolling across the floor into the serving line’s base.

“Somebody grab him he’s not moving,” I yelled seeing my watch tick down the final seconds. “Hold him tight!”

I turned back and pulled then pushed with all might against the door forcing it closed. As I spun the locking wheel, the room shook with loud explosions and jerked upward then downward. Tables and chairs flew into the air, landed, and slid over the floor, slamming into the crew as they grasped vertical beams and pipes around the room. Then all of a sudden, the overhead lighting flickered and changed to a deep red, shadowing my vision. The blood-red darkness made it difficult for me to see across the room where Dave had stopped.

“Is Dave okay?” I yelled holding tightly on to the wheel as my eyes adjusted.

“He’s all right! Just knocked out cold by the fall,” Williams yelled back.

“How about the Admiral?”

“He’s fine. Tending to Bowman’s head wound.”

My watch continued counting up to the one-minute mark, as I waited for it, bucking the station’s undulations and worrying that Dave’s memory of the scuttle’s C4 trigger wiring might have been incorrect.

Wiping sweat from my eyes as it ticked past one minute, I breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing had happened except the water rushing past the surface of the dome had grown louder as we increased speed, rising faster and faster, still bobbling toward the surface. The crewmembers were silent staring into nothing with terrified expressions not knowing what to expect.

“We’ve passed into the safety zone,” I shouted trying to comfort them. “We’ll be topping the surface any minute now.”

Their cheers and applause made me smile and I finally accepted that we would make it.

Surfacing would have been less noticeable if it weren’t for the distant sounds of helicopters whirring over the dome and our slow rocking motion in the waves. With the crew rising, standing up for the first time since our ordeal started, wild cheers erupted at the sounds.

“What now” Briscoe asked approaching me.

I glanced down at Dave and saw he was still unconscious.

“We have to break through the wall. Dave told me how.”

“Break through this wall?” he asked. “I would think that would be very difficult. Have a Sawzall or jackhammer on you?”

“No, but I do have a hundred pounds of C4 on my side.”

“A hundred pounds!” he shouted, “That’ll blow through the whole damn deck and kill us all.”

“Well Dave told me it’s in the walls. We have to find it. Maybe we can separate the loads and fire something smaller.”

“Yeah, that would be smart, Marker. Let’s do it.”

“Oh,” I added pulling him back, “You’ll find an orange and white pair of wires leading to a blasting cap somewhere on the outer wall. The C4 should be there around the cap.”

He ran into the pantry and began throwing boxes around looking for the wires. I joined him and started to search, patting my pocket for the D-Cell. I knew this would be a very hazardous exercise after we punctured the wall. We would then have to wait for the quad to fill with water before we could finally swim out. Then we’d still have to free-dive up through ten or twenty feet of cold Pacific water to reach the surface. Extremely risky I thought.

“Do you see another way to get out Chief?” I asked pulling a pallet from the wall.

“Well the pressure’s not as dangerous out there since we’re so close to the surface. I expect we’re floating with the top decks out of the water. But if we flood this quad we’ll sink further making our upward free-dive longer.”

“So what can we do?”

“Think. Outside the box Marker. That’s what you seem to do best. Do it now.”

As he returned to flinging boxes across the room, I stood running escape possibilities over in my mind. After a minute exhausting my imagination, none of them worked better than the C4 idea. But it was so dangerous.

“Hey Marker. I found a C4 packet back here. On the wall over the hatch.”

“Find the wires too?”

“Yep. Orange and white. They run into a pipe sticking up from the floor. More wires of all colors with them but they’re the only orange and white pair.”

“Hold on, I’m coming back there.”

The pantry was dark but enough light filtered in from the kitchen for me to see the Chief standing there by a thick patch of C4 on the wall holding the wires trailing from it looking confused.

“Can you reduce the size of that explosive pack,” I asked remembering his warning.

“Let me see,” he said digging his hand into the putty-like layer. “How much do want Marker? Reminds me of Play-Doh but a tad more dangerous.”

“Just enough to poke a man-sized hole through this wall.”

He turned back and stared at me.

“You may think I’m smart but I am not a demolitions expert. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Then grab a fistful and put the blasting cap in it and slap it on the wall.”

“You’re obviously not a demolition expert either Marker. That handful will set the other ninety-nine pounds of this pack off in a sequential explosion wiping out this entire deck.”

“Then, what do we do Chief?”

“We have to scrape this remainder of the pack from the wall and move it to a distant location in another quad.”

“Can you do that?”

“Yep, but it may take me a few minutes. I have to avoid any sparks when I scrape it off.”

Then he scratched his head and seemed to realize the folly of our plan.

“I hate to bring up the obvious Marker, but how are we going to explode this handful of C4? It takes an electrical pulse to set the cap off. And who’s going to do it with this short wire.

I patted my pocket and took out the D-cell.

“Dave said this would do it. I’m going to use some pallets for protection and do it myself. All I have to do is hold the orange wire on one end and the white wire on the other. Then I hold my breath and pray.”

“But the water will rush in and kill us all.”

“Not if I close the pantry door. There’s not that much pressure outside the dome. Then when I signal you that the pantry’s full you open the door and let it into the quad and everyone swims out.”

He put a hand on his hip and cocked it. “Now Marker that’s the most cockamamie story I’ve ever heard. You’ll kill yourself and take us all with you. That’s like your balloon-strap solution for raising the whale-ship: doomed to failure.”

“Just do it Chief. We don’t have all day and our oxygen will soon be exhausted. Want to die like those Chinese spies gasping for their last breath?”

I timed him and in seven minutes, he had removed the excessive C4 and replaced it with a handful-sized ball with a six-foot orange-and-white wire pair dangling down.

“I put the extra C4 on the wall in Q1. Should be far enough away to prevent a sympathetic detonation but I don’t guarantee it.”

“Close the panty door, Chief and listen for my instructions. Tell the crew to brace for a wall of water if it fails. Oh, and please say some prayers for me.”

Suddenly he grabbed the battery from my hand and ran into the pantry locking the door behind him.

Seeing him close the door, I panicked and started banging on it pleading for him to return.

“Marker,” he yelled, “If I don’t make it tell Barb that I love her and went out doing what I love. Now I’m going to count down from ten. On zero, I’ll complete the circuit and if all goes well we’ll be free one way or the other. I guess we’ll have to postpone that Big Bear vacation until we meet again. Now brace yourself for the detonation.”

“Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.”

I put my mouth to the door and yelled hoping he could hear me.

“Hey Chief! I don’t think I ever told you but I love you like the dad that I lost. I thank God every day that you came into my life after he died in that horrible crash. You’ve kept me on the straight and narrow and I never repaid you. Please give me a chance. Let me do it.”

Silence.

“Six.”

“Five.”

As he continued counting down, between the numbers I heard a thunderous rumbling of overhead choppers circling the dome. Suddenly I heard a weak voice coming through the ceiling. It was not from outside but echoing down from inside the dome above us.

“Three.”

“Attention crew,” an amplified voice crackled from above with a megaphone’s resonance.

“We have broken through the dome above the waterline and are cutting our way down to you deck by deck with a torch. Knock or bang on the ceiling so we can find your location. We know you’re in here somewhere: Simon and Broyles just told us.”

“Two.”

“Did you hear that Chief?” I screamed, frantically banging on the pantry door.

He slammed back the door and stood grinning at me.

“What? That voice from heaven? Sure did, Marker. Sounds like two are already out. We’re next.”

As he left the pantry and reentered the mess the crewmembers had grabbed anything longer than three feet including chairs, tables, and brooms and were banging them raucously on the ceiling over the big room.

“Move to the end of the room by the core,” he shouted over the din. “They’re probably coming down from the hallway surrounding the core. Less chance of fire.”

On his command, they all moved with Franklin to the narrow part of the wedge near the bulkhead door and resumed their noise.

“We hear you now. We’re on our way down. Clear the area for slag and metal droppings.”

Shortly we heard a loud metal clank on the ceiling. Then it scraped off and went silent above us.

“That’d be the third deck’s floor cutout dropping down,” Briscoe said. “Then they’ll have to let the rim cool and drop down a ladder and torch for the second deck.”

“Sounds like you’ve been here before, Mr. Briscoe,” Franklin commented looking at the ceiling with anticipation.

“Previous Navy training, Admiral. Something you never forget, being trapped on a sinking ship.”

He finally grinned again, showing relief and agreed, “Yes. Some of our training is rather rigorous.”

In a little over ten minutes, as we all stood watching holding our breath, a spray of fire broke through the ceiling and spewed down by the bulkhead door. Fiery droplets of glowing metal danced over the floor as they landed.

“Wha-what’s happening here?” shouted Bowman. “We’re on fire! Somebody do something; don’t just stand there.”

I looked down and saw him lifted up on one arm confused and staring through the crowd in fear. Then I realized he couldn’t see the circle being torched through the deck above.

“Dave!” I shouted, “It’s our rescuers. They’re on the deck above us cutting their way in.”

“You mean we-we’re on the surface? We’re s-safe. Th-the monopole’s gone? I must have fallen. Oooh, my head hurts.”

“Yes. We made it, Dave, thanks to you and your station’s unique design. Now let’s get you up and ready to leave.”

“No, Matt. Not this time. I’m staying with the station now that it’s made it this far. I have nowhere to go and there’s plenty of work for me to do here. My sandcastle’s not going to be gone by morning this time.”

He stood and groggily walked to the Admiral putting his arm over his shoulder. “The Admiral here will probably get me into a dry dock by sunset. Won’t you Admiral?”

He sighed and smiled.

“Well, Dr. Bowman, since you guys brought us back pretty much intact; I’ll have to think about it. Moving this big egg around the ocean will not be an easy task but we’ll try. Remember we still have that CHUS cable to attack but it may take us a while to return.”

Laughing together, they jumped as the ceiling cutout fell and crashed clanging to the floor. The hole in the ceiling, about three feet in diameter, looked like it would give us adequate room to climb up and exit once it cooled. I could already smell the freedom. Then the ladder dropped down bringing another cheer and the crew started up almost as soon as it hit the floor.

Small groups of crew had gathered laughing and saying goodbyes but soon they broke up and climbed up to Deck 2.

I pulled the Admiral to the side as he put a foot on the ladder.

“Are we going back to Point Mugu? Do you know?”

“I do not know but I assume that, yes. You’ll have a short debriefing there and then I’ll have you and Briscoe taken home. I believe the Osprey is on standby for that. The Tine is not far away.” With that, he turned and climbed up the ladder.

Finally, Briscoe and I stood with Dave reflecting on the unbelievable past week.

“Come up with us, Dave. Please,” I said almost begging.

“No, my place is here. I’ll see you again, Matt Cross. I know it.”

He sniffled and held out a hand to me then the Chief.

“You both will never know how much I appreciated your help. I couldn’t have done it without you. We’d all be dead by now.”

He paused and whispered, “You know that you’re my prime witnesses for what happened down there. Nobody is going to believe me but the Admiral, and he’s set to retire next month. Can I call on you for verification of the horror we experienced if I need to?”

“Sure,” I said smiling.

Briscoe patted him on the back.

“Of course, Dr. Bowman. I for one will never forget that thing and the trouble it caused. I just wonder what will become of it.”

“Me, too. I may have to go back someday and find out,” he said.

“Ohhh no. Time to go, Marker. Say your goodbyes and follow me up.”

With unexpected emotions I hugged him goodbye and stepped up on the first rung. Looking back at him I said, “We’ll send a ladder back down to you. I know they have rope ones.”

Shortly we had climbed to Deck 3 looking out over the ocean lapping at the dome only feet below us. The cool salt sea air had never smelled so good, as we stood breathing it in for minutes with storm clouds brewing off to the west darkening the horizon and the evening sun.

Soon a harness dropped down from a large chopper and its lineman motioned for one of us to go. His assistant standing near Briscoe strapped him in and sent him up. Then he eyed me.

“Are you the last? The Captain?”

“No, he’s staying down on Deck 1. Can you get him a ladder so he’s not stranded down there?”

“I’ll put a rope ladder on each level before we leave, sir. The Admiral already asked me for that. He will be well cared for since he just saved this multi-million dollar station from destruction.”

I nodded smiled and watched the Chief enter the chopper’s side door.

Moments later, he reached out and grabbed the harness as it neared.

“Here’s your ride. Climb in.”

As I drifted up toward the chopper and watched another one hovering nearby with the station gently rocking in the waves below, I felt a loneliness that I’d never before experienced.

I was leaving a part of my life down there. A part I could never talk about to anyone — even my wife. Briscoe would believe me but he would probably go back to his cruiser put on his campaign hat and happily cruise the Interstates soon forgetting our mission. I knew I would be returning to the depths at MBORC pulling up derelict ships and lost cargo but nothing could ever match the excitement of my time on Sea Station Umbra. It was a story I could tell my grandkids.

“Where are we going, Chief?” I asked. “Heard anything yet?”

“They said Point Mugu. Should be there by sunset. Then a late debriefing and we’re heading home.”

“Tonight?”

“Yep, that’s what they said.”

I looked around at the chopper’s jump seats filled with the station’s crew. As they laughed and relived their tour I thought forward to seeing my wife again and hugging and spending the rest of my life with her. I thought Funny how time away from each other especially life-threatening time brings you closer together. I had never told Lindy why I was so melancholy when I returned home from trips like this but I suspected she knew.

“Hey, Marker. All his merriment reminds me. When are you taking me and the wife to Big Bear like you promised?”

I glanced up at him, smiling awaiting an answer.

“Next weekend of course. How’s that?”

“All right. I’m gonna hold you to that. Call me and tell us where to meet you. We’ll drive up and enjoy the ride.”

“I’ll call for reservations tomorrow and if they’re full I’ll just buy the place.”

He laughed and started a conversation with Williams so I went back to daydreaming.

Soon we began our descent over NAS Point Mugu. Looking out the side window, I saw lights on the runway flashing in sequence awaiting our arrival. I wondered what to expect. Then I noticed an F-4 Phantom fighter sitting at the end with heat tendrils still rising from its engines.

“Look,” I said directing the Chief’s attention. “That’s Admiral Greenfield’s ride. Wonder if he’s here.”

“Probably, Marker,” he scoffed. “You know how he likes to fly back and forth to Florida. Must have a golf game nearby.”

As our chopper landed, I looked out on the runway and saw a Navy pool bus waiting by a long stretch flag officer’s limo. With the chopper’s rotors spinning down, its main door open, and steps dropped down to the tarmac, the crew started filing out toward the bus under a seaman’s direction. Briscoe, Franklin, and I were the last to deplane and were stopped by a distant voice calling our names.

“That’s Greenfield!” exclaimed Franklin. “Never expected to see him here.”

“Hope he’s not pissed,” said the Chief peering his way.

The Admiral looked at Briscoe.

“Why would he be pissed? If you just came back from a scuttled station, he might be pissed but you didn’t. You saved it. He’s probably heard by now and wants to thank you.”

“I hope so,” I said. “We did our best.”

Walking up to us Greenfield smiled and looked around.

“Where’s Bowman?”

“He stayed with the station. Gonna ride it into dry dock,” Franklin replied.

He shook his head and sharply saluted us.

“Thank you boys. I heard what you did. And I have to tell you that you did not disappoint me. From what Bowman said during his Mayday call, you performed some miracles down there. And, as to how you got that Goddamned station to float up to the surface intact I’ll never understand. It should have scuttled halfway up but thank God, it didn’t. He reached in his pocket and pulled out two cell phones handing one to me the other to Briscoe.

“There are your toys gentlemen. Use them wisely. I would hate to see you walk into a signpost reading your email as I did today… but it was about your station’s emergency. Fortunately I was away from Florida: otherwise I could never have made it here in time for your return.”

His signpost confession brought a round of laughter from us as he opened his briefcase and pulled out two checks.

“This is for you, Mr. Cross, and this is for you, Mr. Briscoe. There’s a bonus in there of a million each. You performed way beyond the terms of your contracts and you also discovered something down there that may quite possibly end civilization as we know it. I’m not going to penalize you for that but instead thank you for bringing it to our attention. It’s certainly captured the Navy’s interest. Now as for Silkwood’s visit, we gave him a memorial burial at sea after an unfortunate scuba training accident with a shark. It’s already in the papers. That will be your story if anyone ever asks you. Otherwise you know nothing about Sea Station Umbra, understand?”

“Yes sir,” we answered together.

He pointed off to a side taxiway.

“Your Osprey is waiting over by hangar 405 to take you home to your wives and families. Thank you again for your service… and if you ever feel like re-upping, call me and I’ll get you both in as flag officers with Special Forces. Now hop in the limo and Franklin and I will drop you off by the hangar.

Even in the twilight of the evening I recognized Harper’s V22 Osprey with its up-tilted rotors. It meant to me that we were heading home and I’d be there in a little over an hour. Briscoe’s trip to Tustin field was shorter because we would first stop there and drop him off. Then we’d head north to Marina and the MBORC ball field where nearby my car was parked. It had happened so often I called it the Local Route V22.