CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Nick lay in his bed listening to the radio. It was a calm night—no storms, no waves, and the chances of a call coming in were slim to none. He wished he could turn off his mind and drift to sleep, but he was used to being on alert when at the station.
Soon, though, his lids grew heavy, and he found his body relaxing as he tuned out the men playing a card game in the other room. Normally, he’d be out there with them, but he was worried about his brother.
It was stupid, really. He shouldn’t be worrying about Cooper or Stormy. They were grown adults, for goodness’ sake. They would work through their issues. There was something between them, something he’d never expected to see from his hardened brother.
“Hey Dad, looks like you might get your way after all,” he whispered.
He could almost swear he heard the heartfelt laughter of the man who’d been gone for over six years now. He missed the old man, even if his father had devastated him on his dying day.
“Time to go, Nick. Gear up!”
Nick shot up in bed as he looked toward the empty door. His crew knew he wouldn’t need to be told twice. If they said it was time to go, then he was alert.
“What’s going on?” he asked, all grogginess instantly gone.
“A 757 crashed about three hundred miles out. We don’t have much more information than that. Don’t know if there are survivors. All we know is the tower lost communication after they called in a mayday.”
“Shit!” Nick exclaimed. His gut always clenched when he heard the words
plane crash
. He had too many pilots in the family for it not to.
“Say what you’re not saying,” Nick demanded through clenched teeth.
“It’s Trans Pacific,” the man finally mumbled.
Nick tried not to panic. He tried telling himself there were thousands of flights a day across the US alone. The chance of this being his brother was slim. Of course, Nick didn’t believe in odds. Hell, the chances of him working tonight had been slim to none and look how that was turning out!
Still, he tried to keep a cool head.
“If you need to sit this one out, we can call Tony in,” the man said.
“Not a chance, Sean. I’m going to make a phone call first, though. Suit up.”
Nick marched into the other room and picked up his phone, horrified when he felt his fingers tremble. He was the chief pilot for the base. He couldn’t lose control now. They wouldn’t let him fly.
He couldn’t get through to his brother, and he couldn’t get through to Trans Pacific. He slammed the phone down, cracking its base, and then rushed back out to the room where the men were gathered around the television.
The news announcer was solemn: “No details yet on the crash that’s been reported. All we know at this moment is that a flight called in a distress signal, and then the tower lost them. We’re sending our crews out to Sea-Tac as we speak to get you more information.”
“Let’s go. We don’t have time to sit around here,” Nick commanded.
His crew jumped up, and he hated them all in that moment for the looks they were shooting his way.
“Stop now. It’s not my brother,” he snapped.
The men said nothing. They worked hard every time they were together, risking their lives for complete strangers in the stormiest and deadliest of seas. No one was going to say a word to Nick. In order to work most efficiently, he had to ignore his fears.
The men fell out, the boat crew already gone, the helicopter crew falling in. Nick made one small detour before he jumped into the captain’s seat of the helicopter.
Stopping in the bathroom, he let go of the dinner he’d had two hours prior. When he was finished, he rinsed his mouth, then ran to the chopper.
If his brother was out there, he wasn’t coming home without him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The night air was brisk, the wind blowing ever so slightly. Stormy stood on the back patio of Lindsey’s place, her face raised upward as she watched the stars begin to appear in the darkening sky.
Through the opened door, she could hear the local news in the background, but she didn’t care what was happening in the world. All she cared about right now was trying to figure out what she was going to do next.
Suddenly, her peaceful evening was interrupted when the local news began a special report: “Breaking news out of Sea-Tac Airport. Tragedy strikes in the skies again, this time with Trans Pacific Airlines. We’ve just received word that a mayday was called in.”
Stormy’s heart instantly accelerated, and she rushed into the house and stood before the television as she watched the brunette on the screen look down at her notes.
“The Trans Pacific Airlines flight was heading for Honolulu and apparently suffered engine trouble. We’re hearing reports that it lost contact with the tower exactly five minutes ago. It’s not confirmed yet, but they are saying the plane crashed into the Pacific about two hundred miles out. No other details, including flight number, are being disclosed at this time . . .”
Stormy knew that when planes crashed, the airport set up a central place for family members and friends to go for information. It took her exactly one hour to get from her friend’s place to the airport, thanks to Lindsey rushing in and out of traffic.
If Cooper had been the captain of that flight and she’d lost him forever, she wasn’t sure how she would deal with that. Her fingers glided across her stomach as it cramped.
In a full sprint, Stormy came whirling through the rotating doors into the TPA lobby, where news crews were busy setting up their cameras and giving live reports on the crash.
As she approached the ticket counter, she was desperate to talk to anyone who knew who had captained the flight, but to her horror, all of the Trans Pacific ticket counters were vacant, as if the airline had shut down and abandoned anyone seeking answers.
Panic was taking over, though she tried to fight it. A mewling cry escaped her throat as she collapsed to the ground, her vision going in and out of focus.
She immediately caught the attention of camera crews and reporters, as they zoomed in on her, putting a human face on the late-breaking news of an air disaster at sea.
In the midst of her panic attack, a door opened from behind the ticket counter and an agent rushed to assist Stormy.
The lobby went wild with the sound of camera shutters and electronic flash units firing in frenzy, as newspaper reporters and TV crews sought to capture the image of an airline employee helping the next of kin of the ill-fated flight.
As the airline customer service agent bent over to console Stormy, she put her arm around her, rubbing her back in a circular motion. It was Meredith.
Seeing it was Stormy, Meredith’s eyes, already bloodshot with emotion, began to well up as she gave Stormy a mournful glance of pity. As tears came rolling down Meredith’s face, Stormy knew, without her saying a word, that it was indeed Cooper who’d been flying.
“I’m so sorry, Stormy,” she said. Stormy went limp in Meredith’s arms, losing consciousness.
“I need help over here!” Meredith called out.
Within seconds, two airport police officers were on the scene, one officer lifting Stormy into his arms and taking her into the airline office behind the ticket counter.
Stormy awoke in a large room to the sound of several voices, some shouting while others were quietly sobbing. She was lying on her back on a cot when she opened her eyes and saw Sherman looking down at her. He’d been sitting by her side.
“There you go, sweetie. Time to wake up,” he said with a concerned expression.
The sight of Sherman peering down at her was a comforting sight to wake up to, but as if a thousand nightmares came to mind all at once, she was reminded all too soon of what had happened and whom she’d lost.
Stormy clutched her stomach, cradling Cooper’s unborn child. The agony of loss still overwhelming, she could only sob and shake her head from side to side, as if by saying
no
she could change the situation. Stormy clung to Sherman.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she finally said.
“I’m glad you’re here, too, sweetie,” he assured her.
“I don’t know if I can get through this alone,” she told him, her eyes spilling all over again.
“You’d be amazed at what a person can survive,” he told her. “I was there when Coop took his first flight, and I’m here now, with you. You’re not alone, sweetheart.”
Sherman took Stormy’s hand and held it tightly as they both said a whole lot of silent prayers.
“I don’t know if I can take the silence anymore,” Stormy said after a while. She had no more tears left to cry.
Sherman looked at Stormy, his eyes bright and wide. “Stormy, he’s alive. That boy is alive. I know it. I can feel it in my bones, so don’t you lose heart, you’ll see.”
She looked at him with hope. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do, darling. I really do. And you know what?” he said with a smile.
“What?”
“I bet it will be his brother out there saving his ass,” he said with a chuckle.
“I hope so,” she said, finding that she did have some tears left after all.
CHAPTER FORTY
Water lapping against his legs, Cooper slowly opened his eyes as a groan rumbled from his throat. His eyesight was blurry and he blinked trying to get his bearings. As his thinking cleared, he reached his hand up to his throbbing head.
Feeling a warm sensation, he pulled his fingers away, blood dripping down his hand. He had a substantial gash on his forehead from hitting the side window upon impact, and boy could he feel it.
Cooper began to look around to assess his situation. The flight deck was a mess of broken glass and crumpled metal. Water flowed in through the windshield and streamed down the instrument panel with each pulse of the waves.
The sound of groaning and creaking metal filled his ears as the body of the plane shifted in the gentle sea. Cooper reached down and undid his five-point harness as thoughts moved away from his well-being to that of his passengers and fellow crew members. He glanced over at Wolf, who was still unconscious in his seat.
“Wolf, wake up.” Cooper shook Wolf’s shoulders, saying his name over and over.
At that moment, the creaking became louder as the plane’s nose pitched drastically downward. The damage she’d sustained was substantial and it was nothing short of a miracle that she was still floating at all. But the forward portion of the cargo bay was filled with water and accelerating her burial at sea. Water rushed in through the windshield, filling the flight deck at a faster rate.
With the water now chest level on Wolf and rising, Cooper’s attempt to wake him became more frantic. “Wolf! Come on, buddy, wake up.” Cooper was now shaking Wolf violently with both hands. Wolf’s eyes began to crack open as the water level rapidly approached his neck.
“Cooper, what in the hell is going on?” Wolf’s eyes were now open with panic showing as the freezing water registered.
“The plane is sinking fast and we have to get out of here now,” Cooper commanded.
“I can’t seem to get this seat belt undone.” Wolf was straining, now terrified and spitting water out as it surged up to his face.
“Hold on. Let me try,” Cooper said as he took a deep breath and dove under the frigid Pacific water.
Cooper ripped and pulled on the seat belt mechanism with all his strength, but to no avail. He resurfaced and spoke as calmly as possible. “Wolf, hold on, buddy. I’m going to find something to cut it.”
Cooper’s gaze now looked all around as he tried to spot something that was sharp enough to cut the tough belts.
The water was getting dangerously high and every second wasted meant Wolf was closer to death. Cooper took another deep breath and dove under, still trying to free his distressed coworker from his seat.
The water was dimly lit by the slight glow of the instrument panel lights, but they were fading fast as water found its way into the electrical system. Cooper surfaced for air, still unsuccessful in his attempts.
“I’m sorry, buddy. I can’t get this damn thing undone,” Cooper said somberly as he grabbed Wolf’s hand.
“Can you do something for me?” Wolf asked while pulling Cooper’s shirt toward him. Wolf’s face suddenly became peaceful as the water continued rising.
“Anything.”
“Tell that sexy flight attendant that it wasn’t just a one-night stand. I liked her enough that it scared the crap out of me.” Wolf gripped tighter to Cooper’s shirt as the water covered his face. Cooper was fully prepared to go down with his copilot, not willing to leave a man behind.
Just before he turned away, he saw something glisten underneath the water, illuminated by the flickering light. It was a large shard of glass that had broken from the windshield. Adrenaline flooded his body as Cooper dove beneath the water, grabbed the glass, and began cutting the seat belts.
One by one, the straps snapped. Wolf’s body, now seemingly lifeless, was free. With one arm around his friend, Cooper pushed his way through the flight deck door and out into the flooding cabin.
The plane pitched violently forward, causing a large influx of water through the open exits. Cooper glanced at Wolf’s face and noticed he was becoming paler. He knew Wolf had no chance of survival without CPR, and soon. He could hear the sounds of passengers and the faint voices of flight attendants calling out instructions from outside the craft. It appeared they’d gotten everyone off in time.
The aisle was full of floating personal effects that he had to navigate around to get to the open exit row door. As Cooper emerged from the opening, a bright light shone on him. He looked up, hearing the pulsing blades of a helicopter as it flew past and out of sight.
The bright orange and white paint could be seen on the side of the helicopter, telling Cooper the Coast Guard was here. A small sense of relief came over him as he pulled Wolf over to the wing and held on, Wolf on his back with Cooper holding his chin above the waves. The helicopter disappeared from the wreckage, presumably to summon assistance.
“Captain! Captain, over here,” one of the flight attendants shouted as they paddled a raft closer.
The sea lay silent as the water lapped the edges of the plane’s fuselage. The surroundings were dimly lit by fuel burning here and there on the water’s surface. Cooper could see yellow life rafts filled with passengers. The once piercing screams that had filled the air were now a quiet rumble as people sobbed their relief.
The flight attendants’ training had paid off for everyone on board, it seemed, as they’d quickly and safely ushered the passengers out of the submerging cabin and onto the bobbing rafts.
For what had seemed like an improbable task, Cooper and his first officer had done their job. The plane was intact and all souls accounted for, but further efforts were needed to ensure everyone’s continued survival.
“Is everyone off the plane?” he shouted.
“Every single passenger is accounted for,” she gladly told him.
Cooper had to fight tears as he glanced at his crew, all of them doing their job, going above and beyond, and not allowing a single soul to lose his or her life. This was the airline he owned; these were the people he employed. He’d chosen well.
He could abandon ship now.
Cooper reached out and grabbed the rope that encircled the yellow raft. “I need help over here. Wolf needs CPR.”
With the help of some passengers, Cooper lifted Wolf and placed him on the floor of the raft and then climbed in himself. He pushed the boat clear of the airplane and began CPR on his friend, giving him one good breath and watching his chest rise and fall. He then began chest compressions.
“Come on, Wolf, breathe.” Cooper continued the cycle of one breath and fifteen chest compressions, each time checking for signs of life. Passengers from their raft and others turned to watch, their minds no longer focused on their own woes.
“Wolf, come on, man. Don’t make me face Tori. The girl terrifies me.” Cooper got more desperate as the chest compressions became more violent.
At that moment a slight gurgling could be heard as Wolf cracked open his eyes. “That’s it, spit it out, buddy.” Cooper sat Wolf up, patting him on the back. An explosive spray of water came out of his mouth as his lungs took in a deep breath of fresh air.
Applause could be heard from the bobbing rafts as the passengers showed their appreciation to the pilots for saving their lives. Exhausted from this traumatic event, Wolf laid his head on the side of the raft. He grabbed Cooper’s hand and with a raspy voice said, “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
Cooper cracked a smile.
“We’ll discuss terms later.”
Now it was time to find out how many people had been hurt.
“What is the status on injuries?”
“As far as I know, Captain, lots of bumps, bruises, cuts, scrapes, and some broken bones. However, nothing life-threatening.”
“That’s good to hear. Let’s make sure we attend to the wounded the best we can and try to pass out as many blankets as you managed to snag.”
“How about we get you bandaged up first?” the flight attendant asked.
Cooper reached up and wiped blood from his gash. He’d completely forgotten, during all the commotion, that he’d been wounded.
The flight attendants began doing what they could to bandage the wounds and keep the passengers warm. Although the water was calm, the slow-pulling currents moved the rafts farther away from the sinking plane.
As the rafts drifted, the plane went down quickly. The sea water bubbled and sprayed into the air as the creaking metal frame dipped below the water’s surface.
Everyone turned to watch as the last portion of the jet, its tail, was claimed by the sea. It seemed surreal to Cooper as he watched the Trans Pacific logo disappear from sight with a swirl of sea water marking the grave of the only casualty of this horrific event.
The night became colder and the passengers fought to stay warm while adrift in the middle of the sea. Only a few random spots of burning jet fuel remained unextinguished by the lapping water. A few hours seemed like days as the hope of a rescue started to fade. Why wasn’t the helicopter back?
“I thought they’d be here by now,” a passenger said from an adjacent raft.
Everyone’s attention seemed to be on Cooper, as he was their leader. “What should we do, Captain?”
Cooper turned and looked out over the survivors as they gazed back at him, hoping for some modicum of reassurance. This was what his father had always wanted out of him, to be able to lead, to assure, and to make a difference. His head was spinning with how much had changed in the past six years. His heart ached that his father wasn’t there to see the man he’d become.
“They’ve already spotted us and we have our locator beacon activated. It shouldn’t be too much longer.” These words seemed to satisfy them as there wasn’t much of a response. Not thirty minutes from the last spoken word, a low rumble accompanied by a consistent splashing sound could be heard.
“Look over there,” a passenger shouted as they pointed into the darkness.
“It’s a ship!”
Out of the darkness came the sharp white and orange bow of a Coast Guard cutter. The large ship was accompanied by three smaller boats with bright lights that pierced through the now approaching fog bank. The deep whine of the smaller boats brought a sense of relief for the passengers and Cooper.
Not long after the boats arrived, helicopters started circling above. He didn’t see the Coast Guard orange on their sides. As he looked closer, he caught a glimpse of the side of one of them labeled NEWS 19. Fury filled him as he glared up at the vultures hoping to get the first pictures of dead bodies floating in the water. Well, they were out of luck.
Cooper turned to Wolf. “They’re here to get us, bud. We’re going home.”
Wolf nodded his head, still out of it from the crash, but he managed to crack a smile.
The Coast Guard began to pull passengers on board, immediately giving them dry clothes and warm blankets. Cooper waved to one of the boats to come in his direction. It approached alongside his raft, its wake causing the light boat to move up and down in the water. A Coast Guard lieutenant leaned over the side.
“I have one that’s injured and needs immediate medical attention,” Cooper told him.
Wolf was pulled into the boat.
Cooper sat back against the raft’s side, refusing to board the ship until every last passenger was picked up out of the water.
Cooper now sat alone in his raft, floating on the cold waters of the Pacific, tuning out the sound of people talking. The water in the raft sloshed from side to side with every rock of the sea. He sat with his life vest over him and a blanket wrapped around his body as he fought the cold.
With his shaking hand, he reached into his soaked pants pocket and retrieved a little black box. The once cardboard box was now more mush than cardboard. He opened it and peeled away the soaked parts, revealing the stunning diamond ring, sparkling in the lights from the Coast Guard vessel.
“Everyone is on board, Captain, but we’ve had a request that you get flown home,” the man said.
Cooper smiled, knowing exactly where that request had come from. As the ship backed away, he could hear the distinct sound of the humming rotor of a Coast Guard helicopter.
The light became more intense as it neared his position. The light’s rays were interrupted temporarily by a man in a basket being lowered down. The man grabbed Cooper’s hand as he pulled him into the basket alongside him. The cable swayed back and forth as the helicopter crew began to reel the basket up.
“Brother, it’s so damn good to see you!” Cooper exclaimed.
“Not as good as it is to see you. You scared the shit out of me this time, Coop,” Nick admitted. “I couldn’t even fly this bird.”
“Yeah, it would be the same for me if the situation were reversed,” Cooper told him.
“Where are we landing?”
“We’re taking all passengers to the Red Cross crash assistance center.”
“You gotta pull some strings and give me a reroute, Nick.”
“Sorry, brother, no can do. Orders are to take any survivors to the center to get checked out.”
“Don’t make me pull the older brother card. I need to get to Stormy, and if the fates are with me, she’ll be at the airport,” Cooper said, getting frustrated.
“You’re going to get my ass chewed, Coop,” Nick said.
“Just take me to Sea-Tac,” Coop repeated, before admitting to his brother, “I love her, Nick. I have to tell her I love her.”
“All right man, but this is only because I’m a sappy romantic,” Nick replied as he ordered the helicopter to turn toward the Seattle airport.
It was just past midnight when Nick touched the helicopter down on a taxiway across from the TPA passenger terminal, where all flights had been cancelled for the remainder of the night.
At the exact moment the helicopter touched down, Cooper slammed open the sliding passenger door on the right side of the rescue helicopter.
Through a gale of rotor wash and the deafening noise of the helicopter’s engines, Cooper dashed from the rescue helicopter in a full sprint to the terminal.
“Hey—what the hell are you doing?” one of the guys cried, reaching out in a vain attempt to pull Cooper back in.