Radclyffe - Wild Shores

“As soon as we get everything coordinated with the burn crews.”

“Just don’t wait too long. Getting a launch off the platform might be tricky on these seas.”

“I hear you.”

Benny set down with a jolt and the helicopter skidded a dozen yards as a blast of air lifted the undercarriage. “I’ll have to tie her down until we get ready to leave.”

“Make it fast.”

“You need to get your meteorologist out here too,” Benny said.

Austin shoved her door open, and the wind tried to shove it back. She braced it with an arm. “She’s still here?”

“Yeah.”

Mentally cursing, Austin said, “I’ll see to it,” and tugged off her headset. She forced her way out onto the platform, leaning into the wind and pushing toward the office.

Claudia was the only one inside. She stood at the counter, a laptop by her right hand, a chart spread out by her left, and an aerial with a tiny red dot denoting the rig projected on the monitor in front of her.

“You’re supposed to be gone,” Austin said abruptly.

Claudia didn’t look around. “With oil on the surface, I need to do current projections so we can chart the direction of the drift for the ships to set the booms.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Austin would’ve agreed. Two containment ships would isolate the oil within a U of fire-resistant booms, congregating the oil into a thick layer for an optimal burn, and tow it away from the rig. If the oil drifted too fast, it escaped the burn. If it thinned out too much, it wouldn’t burn at all. The ships followed courses predicted by a marine meteorologist like Claudia who mapped the currents, the wind speed, the wave height, and a host of other variables. In a lot of ways, this was Claudia’s game right now.

“We’ll be lucky to get even a few hours’ burn with the weather we’ve got. You’ve done all you can do. You need to evac.”

Claudia looked over her shoulder, an annoyed crease between her brows. “Really? Aren’t you being just a little bit chauvinistic here? Reddy and Tatum aren’t going anywhere.”

“You can track the situation from land,” Austin said, smothering a grin. Claudia was probably a little bit right, but she was a desk jockey, not a roughneck. “Whatever happened to ‘I’ll be the first one off’?”

“I’m still going to be the first one off. And if you’d be quiet and let me work, I’ll be off a lot sooner.”

“As soon as you send your projections, pack up your gear. The birds are getting ready to leave. Everybody’s going with them.”

Claudia finally turned to face her. “All of us?”

Austin lifted a shoulder. “Everyone except Tatum, Reddy, and me. We’ll deploy to the ships as soon as the evac here is complete.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“We’ll take the shuttle launch.”

“On this sea?”

Austin waved a hand. “We’ll be fine. Would you please get ready to go.”

“All right, all right. I’m packing.” Claudia finished typing a message and began shutting down her computer with one hand while gathering papers from the counter with the other.

Satisfied, Austin said, “You should make it off the island in plenty of time.”

“Where are you going to be?” Claudia pushed folders and a pile of papers into her briefcase.

“I’ll stay ashore so we can get back out here ASAP when the storm passes.”

“Then I’m staying too. Where can I get a room?”

“Don’t you already have one?”

Claudia winced. “Unfortunately, yes, I do, it’s in container number thirty-nine on the far end of the platform. However, that’s not going to work out any longer.”

Austin squeezed the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “Jeez. I can’t believe you’ve been bunking out here with Tatum and Reddy and that crew for the last—”

“Far too many days,” Claudia said with a wry grin. “Is there any chance I can find someplace ashore?”

“I doubt it. If the locals are leaving, they’ll be closing up their businesses. If they’re staying, they’re probably full. Either way, you don’t have much time to find out one way or the other.” She fished in her pants pocket and pulled out her room key. “Here, take this. It’s the Gulls Inn on the east end, room number five at the back. You can use my room.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I don’t want to put you out.”

“I won’t be using it very much anyhow. You might as well have a place to keep warm and dry, but it’s close to the beach, so keep an eye on the weather.”

Claudia cocked a hip and smirked. “You didn’t really just say that to me, did you?”

Austin grinned. “Yeah, I did. Now would you please hustle out to the bird and get out of here.”

Claudia shrugged into her raincoat and picked up her briefcase and laptop case. As she passed Austin, she slowed. “Be careful, will you? Saving the company a few million dollars isn’t worth getting hurt for.”

“I don’t think you want Eloise to hear you say that.”

“Oh, Eloise…she’s not that hard to handle.”

Austin stared after her, trying to imagine anyone handling Eloise. Maybe Claudia Spencer was just the person.

❖

“Well,” Eloise said with a resigned sigh, “we pretty much always knew this was coming.”

“Did you get the permits to burn?” Austin asked, walking around the control center and shutting down equipment as she talked.

“Yes, when I advised the various agencies, I put the paperwork through just in case. Do you have any idea yet how big it’s going to be?”

“So far the surface accumulations are pretty small, but they’re steady. We’re set to corral them with the booms and start the burn. I’ll give you an update when we do.”

“How long do you think you’ll be able to keep it going?”

“You know the stats. Once the wind gets over twenty to twenty-five knots or the waves hit five feet, we’re not going to be able to contain the oil. We’ll try skimming and whatever else we can as long as we can.”

“We need Tatum’s crews to get that external shaft in place,” Eloise said. “No leak, no spill, no burn. Make that happen.”

“Hurricane, Eloise. There’s a hurricane coming. I’m evacuating the rig.”

“You might have discussed it with me.”

“There’s nothing to discuss. You know the projections as well as I do. Time’s up.”

“Damn it,” Eloise said quietly. “All right, just keep a lid on things.”

Austin thought of NBC News camped out on the shore. At least they were fifty miles away. “Right, I’m on that.”

After a last look around, she picked up a two-way radio from the console on the counter, shut off the lights, and locked the door behind her. Time for the endgame. She flicked open the channel to Tatum. “Ray, it’s Austin. Are your crews away?”

“The last bird just left. It’s only us fucking pigeons left behind.”

Austin chuckled. “Are the ships ready?”

“Under way.”

“I guess it’s time for us to rendezvous.”

“The launch is ready to go.”

“On my way.” Austin clipped the two-way to her belt, zipped her jacket, and grabbed a fire emergency pack from the on-deck emergency bin. Slinging it over her shoulder, she jogged across the rig, slowing at the sound of a helicopter circling overhead. She shaded her eyes against the glare of the floodlights on the upper sections of the platform, wondering why Benny or Rio had returned. They had no reason—

“Damn it,” she muttered. The colorful news logo flashed on the side of the helicopter, its spotlights scanning over the surface of the rig. Even from a distance, she could see it buffeted in the wind. The news pilot was probably experienced, but she doubted he had much practice being this far out to sea with the kind of unpredictable tailwinds they were looking at over the next few hours.