Arctic Fire (47 page)

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Authors: Paul Byers

Tags: #thriller, #adventure, #action, #seattle, #new york, #water crisis, #water shortage, #titanic, #methane gas, #iceberg, #f86 sabre, #f15, #mariners, #habakkuk, #86, #water facts, #methane hydrate, #sonic boom, #f15 eagle, #geoffrey pyke, #pykrete, #habbakuk, #jasper maskelyne, #maskelyne

BOOK: Arctic Fire
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The
USS Intrepid
was an Essex class
aircraft carrier launched in 1943 during WWII. During the war, she
survived numerous bomb hits and kamikaze strikes and she was
credited with sinking two Japanese battleships and downing over 600
enemy aircraft.

The
Intrepid
went on to serve three
combat tours off Vietnam and twice as a NASA Prime Recovery Ship,
recovering spacecraft from the Mercury and Gemini space programs.
She was decommissioned in 1974, but was moved to New York where she
has served as a maritime/aviation museum since 1982.

Standing on the dock looking up, the 900 foot,
33,000 ton ship looked huge. From his cockpit looking down, it
looked like he was going to try to land on a band-aid.

Landing on the deck of an aircraft carrier has
often been referred to as a controlled crash, a theory he was about
to put to the ultimate test. To launch a plane, a catapult was
attached to the front wheel and it was shot into the air. To land,
there were four guide wires spaced across the aft end of the flight
deck. When a navy plane lowered its landing gear, there was a hook
that extended down from the tail of the plane. The idea was to
catch the tail hook on the wires, which would slow, then stop the
plane. Being an Air Force plane, his Sabre didn’t have a tail hook.
What it did have, however, was the remains of the rocket booster
still attached to its belly; he hoped would act like a giant tail
hook.

An ideal landing was to catch the number three
wire but he would be more than happy just to snag any of them. He
knew it would probably rip his tail off but he prayed it would be
enough to stop him before he slid off the end of the flight deck
and plunged fifty feet into the waters below.

Normally, the flight deck of the great ship was
crowded with up to 30 different aircraft on display, but
fortunately for him, they had been removed for maintenance and
restoration work. Pike was circling counter-clockwise above the big
ship, flying down the portside at less than 700 feet, passing over
the submarine
USS Growler
that was moored on the other side
of the dock and a British Concord supersonic airliner on a barge
right behind it.

Swinging out wide, his glide path toward the
stern of the ship was perfect, coming in over the water on his
final approach. His speed was a little faster than he wanted but he
also knew that if he didn’t maintain his forward airspeed, he’d
drop out of the sky like a rock. Normal landing speed was around
125 mph and he’d hope he could bring her in at around 110 mph, just
a little over stall speed, but right now he was doing close to
140.

He came over the stern of the flight deck too
high and too fast. He would need to tap the stick forward to get
down to the deck then pull back on the stick to flare the landing,
easing his contact with the deck and bleeding off airspeed.

Both maneuvers worked, only not as well as he
had hoped.

He brought the nose of the
Clipper
down a
little too hard and he had to yank back on the stick and over
corrected. The nose popped up, but the tail hit hard. The rocket
assembly actually caught the number three wire, but because of the
plane’s speed and force of the impact, it dug into the deck. The
assembly stayed put while the
Yankee Clipper
popped off and
skidded down the flight deck.

Pike could see sparks flying out from under the
fuselage, just behind the wings, as bare metal scrapped against
bare metal. The sound was like a thousand fingernails scraping on a
chalkboard. But it was more than just the sound that was hurting
him; his beautiful plane was being torn apart. He knew he should be
worried more about himself than his plane but he just couldn’t help
it.

Looking ahead, he suddenly became more worried
about himself. He was rapidly approaching the end of the flight
deck and was still going too fast. With twenty feet to go, part of
the aluminum skin scraped off and part of the metal airframe caught
on the decking. The runaway plane stopped so suddenly, it snapped
Pike forward, slamming his head into the instrument panel. Then the
whiplash snapped him back in his seat.

Pike was dazed from hitting his head on the
instrument panel but he was still conscious, everything was blurry,
blending into one giant kaleidoscope of sight and sound. He was
vaguely aware that the plane was still moving but he had no sense
of how fast or even in what direction. He suddenly sensed that he
had stopped, and yet the plane was still moving, not forward, but
up and down.

In a brief moment of clarity, he realized that
he was on the very tip of the flight deck and that he was actually
teetering back and forth like a seesaw.

A wave of nausea swept over him and his world
began to blur again. The last thing he remembered was watching the
sky flip upside down and then being swallowed by darkness.

 

 

 

 

Chapter F
ifty

 

 

 

He raised his nose up in the air and took
several whiffs. “You still stink,” Nathan Grant said as he waved
his hand in front of his nose.

“Very funny, Nate, very funny.” Gabriel Pike
replied, taking a sip of his root beer.

“I can’t believe your
luck,” Grant continued, “only you could land a 60-year-old plane on
the deck of a 70-year-old aircraft carrier, then slide off the end
and flip over onto a garbage scow that was supposed to have shoved
off earlier that morning but was still there because the captain’s
wife delivered her baby a day early because a fortune cookie she
ate the night before said that good things would happen in the
morning,” he finished, taking a deep breath. “Unbelievable!”

“My new motto, I’d rather be lucky than good,”
Pike took another sip then tipped his head to one side in thought.
“Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect?”

“The what?”

“Never mind,” Pike said, smiling.

Grant just shrugged his shoulders as he took
another sip of his beer and finished off the last French fry. “So
how’s K.D. doing?”

“The same,” Pike sighed. “The doctors say that
she could come out of the coma tomorrow or she could be under for
years. They just don’t know.”

“Speaking of luck, looking back, it was sure
lucky that all those reporters burst in when they did and one of
them checked her and found she was still alive. If there hadn’t
been all those witnesses, they would have quickly finished the
job.”

“How’s George taking all this?” Pike asked.

“Hard, really hard.” Grant replied, shaking his
head. “I mean what do you say to the man? I think he knew she was
fooling around on him but he still loved her. But how can you
handle the fact that she killed someone? It’s tough.”

There were a few moments of silence as each man
was alone with his thoughts.

“So, are you home for good now?” Grant finally
asked.

Pike shook his head. “No, there are still a few
more hearings and review boards I have to attend. I’ll be leaving
tomorrow and staying about a week.”

“Nobody’s charging you with anything are
they?”

Again, Pike shook his head. “No. All the
investigations have proven me innocent. They just need to wrap up a
few more details.”

“Are you taking the
Clipper
?” Grant saw
his friend’s eyes light up at the mention of his beloved air
plane
.

“She’s still up at Paine Field being restored so
I’ll be flying commercial. But by the time I get back she should be
good as new, even better they tell me. I can’t wait to take her
up.”

Grant scoured under a piece of lettuce on the
plate, searching for anymore fries. “Do the cops or FBI have any
leads on the whereabouts of Cain or that Mallory woman?”

“Mallory left the iceberg earlier in the day and
no one has seen her since and Cain’s body hasn’t been recovered
yet.”

“You don’t think either one of them will try to
come after you do you?”

“Cain was on the iceberg and I don’t see how he
could have survived and with all the all money Mallory has, why
would she waste her time on me?”

“True. I don’t know why I waste my time on you.”
Grant smiled.

“Thanks old buddy, I love you too.” Pike said as
they raised their glasses in a toast. After their glasses clinked,
the waitress came up to clear the table.

“Excuse me sir,” she said looking at Pike, “I
see you don’t have any ice in your glass, would you like some
more?”

“Pike just smiled and shook his head slowly. “No
thank you. I’ve had just about all the ice I can handle for a
while.”

Both men laughed while the waitress walked away
in confusion.

“Excuse me.” Pike said as he heard his cell
phone ring. He reached down and didn’t recognize the number and a
frown shot across his brow. Since everything had happened, he had
been constantly hounded by everybody and his brother for an
interview, all wanting a piece of the Blast from the Past. He
sighed and against his better judgment, took the call.

“Hello?”

He heard a soft, frail voice on the other end,
“Hey, Hot Shot.”

 

 

 

 

Please enjoy a sample from GREED

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

Kekao reached the edge of the village then
marched on through into the jungle on the other side, making it
clear he was taking no prisoners when it came to setting the pace.
Crawford was crushed when they reached the village and didn’t stop.
The smell of the morning fires and of freshly cooked food was
enough to make him think of mutiny. The grumbling in his stomach
was nearly as loud as the grumbling under his breath as he marched
through the village.

Not being able to stop and eat was bad enough,
but it was made even worse when he saw the girl who had been
flirting with him the night before come out of one of the huts and
eagerly smile and wave at him. The disappointed look on her face
when he didn’t stop to talk hurt almost as much as his hunger. He
wasn’t sure if Yates could really throw him into the brig like he
had threatened to do to Murphy, but what he was sure of was that
the captain could get him fired if he didn’t go on this little Boy
Scout trip.

He straightened up a bit as he walked by and put
on his brave explorer face, hoping to impress her with his fearless
trek into the deep, dark jungle. He gave her a friendly smile and a
wink as he picked up his feet and put them into a soldier’s pace
instead of a complainer’s shuffle. With one last look over his
shoulder, he smiled and disappeared into the jungle.

Murphy wanted to stop in the village as well,
but not for the same reasons as his love-struck shipmate. Although
breakfast would have been nice, what he really was hoping for was
to get a better look at the village in the daylight and to see if
they had any more artifacts he could identify. He wanted to enjoy
the sights and sound of the jungle—he wanted this to be an
adventure, not army maneuvers in jungle warfare—but there was no
time to waste; Kekao make it clear that they would not be taking
time to stop and smell the roses.

Murphy, Sarah, and Crawford dutifully followed
Kekao through the village, followed by their two native porters.
For several minutes they traveled along a well-worn path that made
keeping up with their guide fairly easy. The path spilled out into
a large meadow carpeted with wide-bladed grass. The three-foot-high
tufts of grass swayed gently in the breeze, reminding Murphy of the
great wheat fields of the Midwest.

They all stopped for a quick break that allowed
them to admire the postcard beauty of the tree-lined field with the
towering twin mountains in the background.

“Look,” Crawford said to Sarah, as he took out a
bottle of water from his pack, “you can make a grass skirt and go
native. I bet we can even find you a pair of coconuts to wear too.”
He smiled.

“You know,” Murphy added with a snicker, “in the
early days of grass skirts and such, the men wore loin cloths and
the women were topless.”

Sarah just rolled her eyes and shook her head as
she pushed her way past them. “Boys. I’m surrounded by nothing but
boys.”

The small expedition continued across the meadow
and forded a small, ankle-deep stream on the other side, then
re-entered the jungle. The pace Kekao set was fast but easy as they
followed a game trail through the low lying flatlands that led up
to the base of one of the mountains.

In the foothills, they came to a small clearing
that would have made a perfect place for them to stop and catch
their breath, but Kekao never broke stride as he kept going and
started to penetrate the jungle curtain on the other side of the
clearing.

Suddenly Crawford shot out from behind Sarah and
passed her and Murphy like a sports car passing two semis on the
freeway.

“This is ridiculous,” he said as he stormed
passed. “I’m not quite as ignorant as you two think I am. Both of
you know as well as I do that we crossed the same stream twice and
that Kekao is leading us on a wild goose chase just to make his
point, but you two are too stubborn to say anything, wanting to
prove to him that you’re both just as tough as he is, but I’m the
one who’s paying the price for your little pissing match!”

“Kekao!” Crawford shouted just as their guide
disappeared behind a wall of green. Crawford shouted again when the
big man didn’t stop. He was about to shout a third time when Kekao
came storming back through the jungle.

Murphy looked at the charging native then back
at his friend. Crawford lost a little of his resolve but he seemed
determined to hold his ground. Kekao was fifteen feet away and
still in full stride when Crawford spoke: “Kekao!”

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