The Tsunami Countdown (3 page)

8:58 a.m
.

A
s was usual on Oahu, the May morning was bright blue, with just a few wisps of mist perched on the mountains northeast of
Honolulu. The flowers lining the path contributed their sweet aroma to the ocean breeze that tickled the trees. The forecast
was eighty and sunny. Kai sighed contentedly as he soaked in the warmth. Teresa and the kids couldn’t have picked better weather
for a day at the beach. They were busy packing the boogie boards into the Jeep when the center’s security gate hummed to life.
Kai saw a jet black Harley idling on the other side, the distinctive exhaust gurgling.

“Oh no,” he said.

“What’s with the Hell’s Angel?” Teresa said.

“It’s Brad.”

“The playboy, huh? This ought to be good.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Believe me, I’m immune. Divorce will do that for you. What’s he doing here?”

“I have no idea, but I bet I won’t like it.” Since Kai’s move back to Hawaii, Brad stopped by on a regular basis to pester
Kai into doing something crazy with him, usually while Kai was supposed to be working.

Brad tore up the drive at a rate that Kai didn’t think possible. He screeched to a stop next to the group, hopped off his
bike, and flipped off his mirrored helmet in one move. Kai felt a flare of envy at Brad’s effortless grace, which complemented
his rugged surfer-dude appeal.

Brad ruffled his fingers through his thick blond hair and clapped Kai on the shoulder.

“Great day for a round of golf, wouldn’t you say?” Brad waved to the sky as if it had bestowed this day at his request.

Before Kai could answer, Lani ran up and jumped into Brad’s arms.

“Uncle Brad!”

“Hello, my darlin’!” He spun her around and then dropped her and gave her a huge smile. “You are looking as pretty as ever.
What? You’re heading to the beach and didn’t invite me?”

Another voice piped up. It was Mia.

“You can come with us if you want,” she said, her eyes wide at the sight of Brad’s tight T-shirt, muscular arms,
and sky blue eyes. Her mouth was slightly agape, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. He usually had that effect
on women, even thirteen-year-olds.

“And you must be the lovely Mia I’ve heard so much about.” Brad took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Kai thought Mia
would melt into the pavement.

“And I must be her mother, Teresa Gomez,” Teresa said. She seemed unaffected by Brad’s physical gifts and looked a little
disturbed at her daughter’s reactions to this thirty-five-year-old smooth talker.

“Brad Hopkins.” They shook hands. “So you’re the doctor?”

“Third-year resident.”

“Well, it’s great you got some time off to come visit. I see you’re ready to enjoy our fine weather.” Brad looked her in the
eye, but Kai knew he had already given her tall, tan figure the once-over from behind that mirrored visor.

Teresa rolled her eyes, but Kai could see that she was amused. “Your brother is exactly like you said he was.”

Even though the only physical feature Brad and Kai shared was their six-foot height, they were indeed brothers. Half brothers,
specifically. When Kai was four, his father died of cancer. Kai’s mother remarried within a year. She was wooed by Charles
Hopkins, owner of Hopkins Realty, one of the most successful real estate companies in the islands. They immediately produced
Kai’s little brother,
Brad, and Charles adopted Kai. Although Kai kept his birth father’s last name, they were a close family. But it was apparent
from an early age that Charles was grooming Brad to take over the business. That was fine with Kai. He had no interest in
real estate or business. Science was always his passion.

When their parents died in a car crash five years ago, the estate had been split between them, but Brad kept control of the
company. Being a consummate playboy, he enjoyed the freedom the business gave him. He could party all night, play golf the
next morning, and still have time to close a major hotel deal before the sun set. No wife, no kids, no responsibility for
anything but his business. Even though Kai loved his life, sometimes he wished he could trade places with Brad.

Brad flicked his eyes at Kai. “So I hope all you heard was good things about me.”

“Don’t worry, haole,” Kai said. “Your dark secrets are safe with me.”

“Haole?” Teresa said to Brad. “That your nickname?” Brad laughed. “To some people. It’s Hawaiian for ‘white boy.’ At least
he didn’t call me ‘ass-haole.’”

Kai shook his head in mock disgust. “See what I have to deal with? I’m thinking about changing the gate code. Again.”

“It is so freakin’ boring around here, you need me to
come in and liven things up.” Brad winked at Teresa. “I swear, this is the most secure nerd farm in the world. I don’t know
why they need a fence around this place, anyway. Who wants to break in here?”

“That decision was before my time, after the Oklahoma City bombing. I suppose the higher-ups thought some nut would think
we were a secret CIA base and try to blow us up.”

“Whatever. Come on, Kai. Let’s go shoot a round of golf.”

“I have work to do this morning. Some of us work most days.”

“Today is Memorial Day, you know. A holiday?”

“Not for me. The director is on vacation, so I’m in charge while he’s gone.”

“So give yourself the day off,” Brad said. “Hop on.”

“You know there’s no way I’m getting on that thing. You drive like a maniac, and I hate donorcycles.” Kai had adopted Teresa’s
nickname for motorcycles, so-called because a disproportionate number of organ donations came from motorcycle crash victims.
“You’re about as likely to get me on that thing as I am to get you scuba diving.”

Brad’s smile vanished. “That’s not funny.”

“Why not?” Teresa said.

“He had a scuba diving accident a long time ago.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Brad said with a scowl. “It was a near-death experience.” “You’ve got my attention,” Teresa said.
“What happened?”

“He’s exaggerating,” Kai said. “Nobody got hurt. We were diving in a shipwreck off Oahu, and a rusty bulkhead came apart,
blocking the door. Brad got locked inside, and his oxygen gauge almost pegged zero before we could get him out.”

“Now I know why you were reluctant about the scuba camp,” Teresa said.

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“He
should
scare you,” Brad said. “My Harley is a hundred times safer than scuba diving.”

“I’m not coming with you,” Kai said.

“Okay,” Brad said, and the smile returned bigger than ever. “But you’re missing out on some easy money. I’m playing with a
couple of guys from Ma‘alea Realty. They have no idea you and I are two-handicaps. I’ve already got them up to twenty bucks
per hole. With any luck, I can double it with a little creative playing on the first couple of holes.”

“I’m not going to swindle a couple of guys out of their money. If they want to play a fair round … Wait a minute. Why am I
even talking about this? I’m not going.”

“If you want to spend the day inside, it’s your loss.” Brad turned to Teresa. “I’ll buy you a mai tai tonight at
the luau and dispel all those lies Kai told you.” Brad lowered his voice and spoke into Kai’s ear. “Make sure my seat is next
to Teresa’s.” Then he made a slight bow to the girls. “Ciao, ladies!”

In a well-choreographed motion, Brad put his helmet on, fired up the Harley, and peeled off, much to Lani and Mia’s delight.
When he was gone, the girls finished putting their supplies in the Jeep.

“He’s a good guy,” Kai said, “but he can be a little much to take.”

“Don’t you dare let Rachel try to play matchmaker. I’m very happy being on my own right now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Kai said. “I’ll make sure you don’t get stuck with him all night.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, climbing in. She unrolled her window and nodded at the center’s main building, a low, squat
structure typical of the government cinder-block construction from the 1940s. It was bland but tidy, with a fresh coat of
whitewash and neatly manicured hedges. The words “Richard H. Hagemeyer Pacific Tsunami Warning Center” were emblazoned on
the front of the building in large letters, honoring a longstanding director of the National Weather Service. It was only
a hundred yards from Kai’s house.

“Must be nice being a thirty-second walk from the office,” Teresa said.

“Not always.”

“I get it. The good part is being close to work. The bad part is being close to work.”

“Exactly.”

Teresa laughed. “All right, you two,” she said to the girls. “Seat belts.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Kai said. “Rachel wants you to call her on your way.”

“Okay. And I might as well get your number in case I have to reach you.” Teresa dug her cell phone from her purse and flipped
it open. “Oh, crap!”

“What’s the matter?” Kai said.

“I didn’t charge my phone last night. The battery is almost dead.”

“Now, don’t you wish we had
my
cell phone here?” Mia said.

Teresa swiveled in her seat. “What I wish is that I had taken it away from you
before
we got that bill for three hundred dollars’ worth of text messages last month.” She swung back around to Kai. “What’s your
number?” Their fingers pecked at the phones as they traded info.

“I’ll just talk to Rachel for a minute,” Teresa said. “If I don’t answer my phone, you’ll know why.”

“No problem,” Kai said.

They gave a wave and were off. Kai patted Bilbo on the head.

“Looks like it’s just us boys now,” he said, but the dog was already sniffing around the hibiscus bushes and making his mark.

Kai’s cell phone rang. He opened it assuming it was Rachel, but the caller ID told him it was the PTWC. He punched the Talk
button and heard the voice of Reggie Pona, the only other geophysicist staffing the Center that morning.

“Hey, Kai,” Reggie said. “I tried you at home but no answer. Are you around?”

“I’m standing outside. Just saw the family off.”

“As you can see, the tour group isn’t here yet. But I thought you might want a few minutes to look at something before they
get here.”

“Why? What’s up?”

“I just issued a tsunami bulletin.”

9:03 a.m
.

T
he Grand Hawaiian was the newest and swankiest of the luxury hotels lining Waikiki Beach. Constructed over the razed remains
of a 1940s apartment building, the 1,065-room hotel was the brainchild of a Las Vegas resort mogul looking for new locations
to expand his empire. An airy pedestrian sky-bridge at the sixth-floor conference facility connected its two twenty-eight-story
towers. Rachel strode onto the sky-bridge from her offices in the Akamai tower toward the main ballroom in the Moana tower,
carefully reviewing the checklist for the disabled veterans brunch while she walked. The governor of Hawaii was scheduled
to address the group and then accompany them to a remembrance ceremony at the Hawaii State Veterans Cemetery. It was the biggest
event in the young hotel’s history, and she was on the hook to make sure everything went off without a hitch.

As she ran through the routine checklist, Rachel couldn’t help but think about her late-night conversation with Teresa. As
a resident, Teresa was charged with saving patients on a daily basis, making a fundamental difference in their lives and those
of their families. Rachel, on the other hand, was responsible for making sure that there were enough servings of mahi mahi
at the brunch.

Her job as a hotel manager was comfortable and paid well, but being a doctor had to be infinitely more rewarding. Rachel had
thought about going into medicine long ago, but for financial reasons she never seriously considered it. So when she met Teresa,
it was Rachel’s opportunity to help someone else achieve her dream.

Teresa had been a nurse when she introduced herself to Kai and Rachel during Lamaze class. Teresa and Rachel had hit it off
immediately, but the lout Teresa was married to at the time didn’t get along as well with Kai. The two women got even closer
once Rachel, after years of working on Teresa, finally convinced her to pursue her passion and go to med school. Teresa’s
husband, who wanted her to give up working altogether and become a stay-at-home mother with five children, filed for divorce.
To make things worse, it also turned out that he’d been having serial affairs on his business trips. During that difficult
period, Teresa had leaned on Rachel, and Lani and Mia spent every non-school hour together.

When Kai accepted his new job, Lani was devastated about leaving Mia. So as soon as Teresa had a week off from her third year
of residency, she planned a trip to Hawaii, and the Tanakas happily agreed to host them.

With Teresa visiting, Rachel was reminded that she had abandoned her dreams for practicality, and she didn’t want her daughter
to make the same mistake. If Lani wanted to become a scuba diving instructor or a professional soccer player or anything else,
Rachel wanted her to have that opportunity.

Halfway across the bridge, Rachel was so deep in thought that she nearly ran into Bob Lateen, the chairman of the veterans
conference. His frown told her she was about to have another problem.

She shook off her reverie. “Can I help you, Mr. Lateen?”

“Mrs. Tanaka,” Lateen said, keeping up with Rachel in his motorized wheelchair while she walked, “you assured us that we would
have sufficient accommodations for our accessibility needs, but there is a serious situation in the ballroom that needs to
be taken care of immediately.”

Rachel squinted from the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the skybridge but still maintained a polite
smile.

“Mr. Lateen, I want you to know that we take your concerns very seriously, and we value your patronage. I will do anything
I can to help. Now, what’s the problem?”

They exited the bridge and came into a lavish foyer. Some of the attendees were already milling about. Rachel and Lateen weaved
their way through and entered the Kamehameha Ballroom, the largest in the hotel.

“The problem,” Lateen said, “is that we are supposed to start the brunch in less than an hour, and I can’t even get onto the
dais.”

He pointed to the wide raised table at the back of the ballroom. On the right side, a standard staircase led up to the dais.
On the left side, a short ramp had been constructed over the staircase. Now Rachel could see the problem.

As instructed, a ramp had been installed, but whoever oversaw the construction either hadn’t done it before or hadn’t thought
about the needs of the person that would be using it. They had essentially laid the ramp directly over the stairs, canting
it up at a slope impossible for anyone in a wheelchair to negotiate.

“If I use that ramp,” Lateen continued, “I will look like an idiot because I will have to have three people help me up. They
might as well carry me up the stairs on the other side.”

“I understand the problem, sir. Let me contact the contractor. We’ll have this fixed before the brunch starts.” She pulled
out her walkie-talkie.

“Max, is the dais contractor still in the hotel?”

Max Walsh, her assistant manager, picked up immediately.

“I’m just signing some papers with him,” Max said.

“Put him on the walkie-talkie. Now.”

A second of silence elapsed before John Chaver, the contractor, came on the line.

“This is John.”

“John, this is Rachel Tanaka. You and your men need to come back up here immediately. The ramp is installed improperly.”

“It’s built according to my specs.”

She edged away from Lateen so that she was out of earshot and explained the problem with the dais. This guy picked the wrong
day to mess with her.

“The ramp is useless. Now, if you want to continue to do business at this hotel—a hotel that’s scheduled to have over a hundred
and fifty conferences this year—you better get back up here and fix that ramp in the next twenty minutes.”

“Just a minute.”

Another few moments of silence. Then Chaver came back sounding much more contrite.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tanaka. I just checked with one of my guys. He installed the wrong ramp. We’ve got the right one in our truck.
I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good.” Rachel walked back to Lateen. “A Mr. Lateen will be up here to describe exactly what he needs,” she
told Chaver. “He is a very important guest, and I expect you to extend him every courtesy.”

“Of course. I’m on my way.”

She replaced the walkie-talkie on her belt.

“Thank you, Mrs. Tanaka,” Lateen said. “I appreciate your help.”

“Not at all. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I hope this won’t discourage you from using our hotel in the future.”

“If we get this fixed, you can consider me satisfied.” Chaver arrived, and Rachel left him with Lateen to get the ramp changed.

As she walked away, her cell phone rang. It was Teresa.

“Are you still awake?” she said.

“Are you kidding?” Teresa said. “Most nights I’d kill for five hours’ sleep.”

“Thanks for staying up late. You’ve got so many good stories about the hospital.”

“I just told you the glamorous stuff. Tonight I’ll tell you the things I normally deal with, like strung-out junkies, idiotic
insurance forms, and every bodily fluid you can imagine. It’s not pretty.”

“I’m still proud of you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m proud of you too.”

“For what?”

“For having such a great family. You’ve got something good going there.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“Okay, I gotta go. The juice on my cell is running low.”

“Wait! The reason I wanted you to call was because I reserved you a spot in the Grand Hawaiian parking garage. Just tell them
I sent you.”

“You kick ass, Rachel! I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Rachel got only two steps back into the skybridge when her walkie-talkie crackled to life. It was Max.

“Rachel, we have a problem with the Russian tour group.”

“What’s the problem? Something with their rooms?”

“I don’t know. I can’t understand them. But they’re getting pretty irate.”

“There’s no interpreter?”

“Nope. And none of them speaks a word of English.”

“That may be the problem. Where are they?”

“Second-floor mezzanine.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Rachel stopped and leaned against the skybridge railing. She took a deep breath to gather herself as she watched thousands
of carefree people enjoying their holiday on the beach. Then she headed to the elevators, ready to take on the day’s next
emergency.