Deadly Echoes (35 page)

Gunnison looked at Flemming, unblinking. “As soon as possible because this ship is coming apart as we speak.”

Donovan waited as Amanda flipped back through the pages of notes she'd already taken. They were coming up on the four-hour mark of the interview, and Donovan felt drained. Before they'd departed Anchorage, he'd watched Garrick's video on CNN, which only strengthened his resolve to open up to Amanda. During the first hour and a half of the flight, they'd gone through the
da Vinci
video step-by-step, and now they were nearing the end of the one-on-one interview. Donovan felt pretty good about how it had gone so far. Amanda was smart, knowledgeable, and she possessed a remarkable ability to keep all the plates spinning while she dissected each element, unerringly returning to the next plate until she was completely satisfied. Part of the time she was a relentless interrogator, other times she backed off, relaxed, and acted like a close friend, a confidante. Donovan had been grilled many times, in many venues, and he'd always held his own, as he had so far today. Though compared to the others, he wouldn't wish four hours of Amanda Sullivan on anyone.

“So, Mr. Nash, let's go back to the point where Erica contacted Eco-Watch. I'd like to delve a little deeper into how a phone tip led her to join forces with Eco-Watch. The entire world is going to watch her being shot in the back as she flings herself off the ship—it's a powerful moment. Tell me more about her.”

“No. I need to protect her identity from those who would do her harm,” Donovan replied. “She helped us on grounds that she remains anonymous.”

“Fair enough. Was she able to help you identify the people who were behind the elaborate efforts to destroy Eco-Watch?”

“She helped us get closer.”

“Can you tell me what you felt at the moment she was shot as she leaped from the ship?”

“Only that I needed to try and save her.” Donovan was relieved to be back on firm ground where he could tell the truth.

“Which you did, heroically, I might add. What was she like, as a person?”

“Hard to say, really,” Donovan had been waiting for the question. Amanda was in best friend mode right now. “She was smart, but I think her overriding state of fear kept any of us from really getting to know her. It's ironic that despite her fear she did one of the bravest things I've ever seen when she jumped from that ship.”

“The way I see it, she put her trust in you, and she was right to do so,” Amanda said. “Now, when you say us, who do you mean exactly?”

“My wife, members of my staff. We all admired her immensely, but she was so guarded. I don't think we ever got to see the real person underneath, only that she put us in a position to avert a possible ecological catastrophe. If our work with Alyeska, the Coast Guard, the FBI, and the state of Alaska results in saving the
North Star,
then we all have Erica to thank.”

“So you truly believe that the timely presence of the Eco-Watch jet and the boarding by your security forces via helicopter were what caused the hijackers to abandon the
North Star.”

“I do. Obviously, their intention was to cause an oil spill. Farther into Unakwik Inlet is a stretch of very shallow water. I believe that's where they were headed. If we hadn't shown up, I'm convinced they would have stayed aboard to make sure that's where the ship ran aground. Had they stayed the course, the hull would certainly have been ripped apart.”

“Do you have anything else to add?”

“I think we've covered everything,” Donovan replied.

“Okay.” Amanda snapped her notebook shut and leaned back. “That's it. I thank you.”

Donovan felt the tension begin to leave his body. They should touchdown in Santa Ana in less than fifteen minutes. “How soon is all this going to run?”

“We'll do a little editing, and I'll supply the voice-over to the video as soon as I can get to our Los Angeles studio. Once I'm finished, it will air on all of our broadcast outlets worldwide immediately, as well as our online platforms. As far as the print versions, some aspect of the interview will hit the bigger newspapers tomorrow, but I'm thinking maybe I'll hold on to the bulk of what we talked about and add the summation of the
North Star
hijacking to the story. Maybe even run it as a serialized exposé.”

“Going for a second Pulitzer?”

Amanda replied with a smile, “I do have one more question that's totally off the record.”

“You can always ask,” Donovan said.

“You're a man with a jet at his disposal. We were sitting in it in Alaska. Why did you need my airplane to get to Los Angeles?”

“I run a nonprofit scientific research organization, so it's not like it's my personal jet. Plus, the crew was exhausted, well past the duty time limitations laid out for everyone's safety. With the current climate surrounding Eco-Watch, my security chief didn't want me to fly on the commercial airlines. I was in the process of waiting for a charter to be found when you showed up.”

“Why the urgency to get to Los Angeles?”

“Not really urgent, there's an informal meeting tomorrow with the Eco-Watch board of directors. Most of the members are in town for the Strattons's memorial service, so we thought it best to convene and discuss recent events, and perhaps reach a consensus on further operations.”

“As in shut Eco-Watch down?” Amanda's voice registered surprise at the thought.

“I'm sure that's one of the possibilities,” Donovan replied. “We took some hits today and we may never recover.”

“That would be a shame.”

“Yes, it would. Eco-Watch is worth saving.” Donovan made a grim face that almost touched on sadness, nodded, and then turned to look out the window. As he took in the sight of Los Angeles, his thoughts couldn't be further from Eco-Watch. All he could think about out there in the ocean of humanity of Southern California was Garrick. As things stood, he had no idea if William was still alive.

“Okay, I can talk freely now.” Lauren was up on top of the
North Star's
superstructure where she and Donovan and FBI agent Martinson had had their earlier chat. It gave her privacy as well as excellent satellite reception for the phone she'd borrowed. Spencer, an old friend from her days at MIT, had called and urgently wanted to speak with her. “Where are you?”

“I'm on the glacier. We're about to depart and move to the holding area.”

“How's it going?” Lauren could tell from his tone that he was worried. Spencer was a brilliant geologist, but at the end of the day he worked for the government, which also made him a bureaucrat, and risk was something to be avoided.

“I don't really know. I crunch data. I haven't tromped around on top of a glacier in a decade. I have a bad feeling about this. There are so many uncertainties, and everything was put together so fast.”

“The timing sucks, but that's out of your control. No one has ever done this before. Think about it, you'll be the world's authority on shearing off the face of a glacier.”

“No, I'll be the guy who sank the oil tanker in Prince William Sound. I do have a detailed geological survey of the Meares Glacier based on the fact that of all the glaciers in Alaska, this one is getting bigger, not smaller. It's also one of the most unstable. The underlying seismic activity is anyone's guess, but in the last eighteen months we've recorded half a dozen earthquake swarms emanating from the fault line that exists between the Aleutian plate and the
Pacific plate. The complexity of the deep crevasse structure is impossible to predict.”

Lauren's geological knowledge was considerable. She knew as well as Spencer that there were vertical tubes called moulins that ran through all glaciers at these latitudes, they carried the melt-water through the glacier and typically ran all the way down to bedrock. “Spencer, you're overthinking the whole deal. Insert the explosives in the moulins in a way that stretches the width of the terminus, stand back, and detonate the explosives. Gravity does the rest; the seismic instability is a plus, I promise.”

“We're using the moulins as planned, but their structural design bothers me. There was no way to drill a typical blast pattern in time, so we improvised. Using portable steam drills airlifted into place, we were able to bore enough shafts to connect four separate deep fissures. The blast should create one large section that will slide from the main glacier.”

“That's genius, Spencer.”

“I hope so. God knows we did the calculations a million times. We need thirty-five feet of the glacier to calve off the face. That gives us nearly one-point-eight million cubic yards of displacement. It's not the math that worries me, it's the intangibles.”

“Think big, the last thing you want is a dud.”

“I know it sounds easy, but this early in the season I'm worried the vents don't run deep enough, so the temptation I'm hearing from the demolition people is to err on the high side. We're using a hundred thirty-five thousand pounds of explosives—trust me, we won't have a dud. I'm worried the moulins intersect with deep creases we're not aware of, and we get expansion energy in directions we hadn't planned.”

“Spencer, can you bring down enough of the glacier to create a fifty-foot wave surge at the tanker?”

“Absolutely.”

Lauren saw Buck coming up the stairs, seemingly looking for her. “Bottom line it for me, Spencer. What's the worst scenario?”

“We could get a far larger wave than we wanted or a secondary wave that's every bit as big as the first.”

“I think that's unlikely given the data I looked at from USGS as well as satellite imagery provided by NASA. Spencer, give me something beyond a gut feeling. What are the odds?”

“There's a fifteen to twenty percent chance of some calving beyond what we've projected.”

“Can we both live with that? There's a hundred percent chance this tanker is going to break apart if we do nothing.”

“We don't have a choice. I don't think we could stop this operation now if we wanted to. I have to go, they're waving us back into the choppers. I'll see you later.”

Buck only had to gesture off to the port side of the ship to convey his message. She turned and saw the familiar blue-and-gold markings of the Eco-Watch helicopter as it approached. Their ride off the ship had arrived.

“It's time to go,” Buck announced. “The
da Vinci
just left Anchorage. When they're in position, this is going to happen.”

Lauren nodded. The bodies of the fallen had been transferred to a boat bound for a temporary morgue in Valdez. Special Agent Martinson and the FBI crime team as well as the State Police units had flown back to Anchorage hours ago. The core group of Aleyska and SERVS personnel were aboard the Sentinel-class Coast Guard Cutter
William Flores.
All the vessels out in the sound were positioned well outside the inlet with their bows pointed into the impending wave. Three HH-60 Coast Guard helicopters as well as air assets from the state of Alaska were maintaining a strict no-fly zone for five miles around the entire inlet. The growing numbers of media helicopters were issued strict orders to operate in an area that would give them a full view, but keep them out of the way.

A weapons expert from Elmendorf Air Force Base who was familiar with all of the
da Vinci's
latest equipment had been recruited to operate the complicated optics array. Also aboard in strictly an observational capacity was the governor of Alaska, as well as the
head of the Department of Natural Resources. Two last minute additions included a member of the NOAA tsunami warning station who'd flown from Palmer, Alaska, and the CEO of Alyeska. Lauren hoped that after everything they'd done, the ship would come off the reef as planned.

Lauren fell in behind Buck as they entered the bridge. Captain Flemming's core group was in place. All three of the volunteers were men from the
Orion.
Flemming was at the helm, as was his chief engineer, who would handle the thirty-thousand-horsepower engines. Lookouts were stationed at both ends of the bridge to relay everything they saw back to Flemming. The captain was in radio contact with both tugs as well as the Coast Guard. One of the screens on the control panel was linked to the images the
da Vinci
would provide. As events unfolded, Flemming's view would be nearly omniscient.

“Doctor, I take it you're leaving?” Flemming asked as Lauren drew near.

“I'd stay if I could,” Lauren said. “Buck and I will hover nearby providing you a play-by-play of the events. We'll check in once we're airborne.”

“Very well. Thank you both for everything.” Flemming shook hands with Buck and Lauren before returning to his post.

Lauren and Buck went down the stairs in silence. It struck Lauren how deserted the ship was. Besides she and Buck, there was only Captain Flemming and his crew of three. Once they were on the elevated catwalk walking toward the bow, Janie brought the Bell 407 overhead, made a steep turn that ended in a brief hover, then touched down gently on the helipad. Buck led the way down the last flight of steps, walked to the chopper, and opened the front passenger door for Lauren. Once she was in, he hopped into the back.

“Everyone strapped in and ready?” Janie asked over the intercom.

Lauren double-checked her harness and adjusted the volume on her headset. “I'm set.”

“Ready back here,” Buck replied.

“We've time for a quick briefing then. They've cleared the airspace for five miles around the tanker. No distractions or interference. It'll be just the
da Vinci
and us. Michael and I spoke earlier. We'll stay at five hundred feet or below. The rest of the airspace is his, so there's no chance of a collision. If you spot any other aircraft, they're not supposed to be here, and I need to know immediately. Dr. McKenna, once we're airborne, where would you like me to position the helicopter?”