Scott nursed the yoke in an attempt to bleed off speed. He was holding his breath when the Gulfstream smacked the first towering wave. The right wingtip plowed into the water and violently yawed the jet to the right. The aircraft plunged through another giant wave, and its forward motion suddenly stopped.
"We've stopped — toss the raft out!" Scott was out of his harness in a heartbeat and scrambling for the open hatch. "Pull the lanyard," he yelled, as Jackie stepped on the wing.
She yanked and the raft was automatically ejected from its carrying case. It began inflating and Jackie jumped in a few seconds later. Scott followed suit after the raft was fully inflated. He frantically searched through the raft's equipment bag and found a utility knife as the Gulfstream slipped beneath the waves. Scott slashed at the retaining line attached to the jet. The airplane was about to pull the edge of the raft underwater when the partially severed line snapped.
It was too windy to attempt to raise the canopy. Cold and dripping wet, they would have to huddle together until the storm system moved on. The swells were gigantic and they were concerned about capsizing. After a couple of failed attempts, Scott managed to deploy the sea anchor. It helped stabilize the raft.
"Wouldn't it figure," Scott said after taking inventory of the equipment bag. "No emergency radio and no ELT." The emergency locator transmitter transmits simultaneously on 121.5 MHz (civilian) and 243.0 MHz (military), the search-and-rescue homing frequencies.
"Well, let's look on the bright side," Jackie said, in a relieved, upbeat voice. "We re not injured, and someone is going to be looking for us fairly soon, if not already."
Scott looked at her sheepishly. "There's a lifetime of lessons to be learned from this — from my unmitigated bonehead move."
"Don't worry, you won't do it again. Trust me."
Scott nodded quietly and lowered his head. So much for superior judgment to avoid having to use superior skills.
Chapter 33
Completely redecorated with donated funds, the elegant state dining room was surrounded by English oak paneling and highlighted by crown molding around the ceiling. The room was designed to seat 130 guests comfortably, but this evening President Cord Macklin and Maria Eden-Macklin were entertaining 80 of their close friends and family members.
The president and the first lady were greeting their dinner guests, many of whom were long-standing friends from their military days. The occasion was their quarterly dinner party, always known to be lively and replete with colorful stories. After the gentlemen and their ladies gathered in the elaborate dining room, Hartwell Prost discreetly approached Macklin.
"Mr. President," he said in a barely audible voice, "may I have a brief word with you in the family dining room?"
Macklin could tell from Hartwell's solemn expression that something was amiss. "Sure, lead the way." The president maintained his casual smile as they left the room.
When Macklin closed the door to the private dining room, Prost sadly shook his head. "Jackie and Scott are missing, overdue in London."
"What happened?"
"I don't know," he said grimly. "They would've been out of fuel a couple of hours ago. There were no distress calls, nothing; they just vanished between Gander and London."
The president was visibly shaken. "Has this been verified?"
"Yes, the plane was registered to their aviation consulting company The FAA contacted their secretary and she called my home.
They had given her my number in case of an emergency My butler relayed the news to me about fifteen minutes ago."
"What about a search?"
"Its under way. The weather along their route was bad-horrendous would be a better description. How about using some of our military assets to help in the search?"
The president nodded. "Anything you need. Take charge and pull out the stops."
"I will, Mr. President."
Less than an hour and twenty minutes after the conversation between the president and Hartwell Prost, two coast guard HC-130H Hercules departed from Elizabeth City to look for the missing aviators. Another coast guard C-130 on a training flight from San Juan, Puerto Rico, to the Azores had changed course and would soon be assisting in the search. In addition, a marine corps KC-130F from MCAS Cherry Point, North Carolina, would be joining the growing rescue effort.
Two coast guard cutters, the Hamilton-class WHEC 721 Gallatin and the Famous-class WMEC 907 Escanaba, would be supplemented by three U. S. Navy ships and an E-2C Hawkeye early warning aircraft from the aircraft carrier USS Harry S. Truman. Civilian airplanes and ships in the general search area were also notified to be on the lookout for the downed pilots.
Four P-3C Orion land-based maritime patrol aircraft from squadrons VP-8 and VP-26 were tasked to join in the search for Jackie and Scott. The long-range four-engine turboprops would be joined by two P-3CS from VP-64 at NAS Willow Grove, Pennsylvania. Each aircraft would be assigned to a particular search pattern by the E-2C Hawkeye.
The raging, icy seas were becoming less violent by the time Scott noticed the first hint of daylight. Numb from the cold water and gusty winds, he could barely move his stiff limbs. He turned on the flashlight and struggled with the canopy poles. Awakened by the beam of light darting around the raft, Jackie opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. 4Tm frozen solid. How can you possibly move?"
"Trust me, it isnt easy." Scott extended the flashlight to her. "If you'll hold the light, I'll see if I can get the canopy up."
"Happy to help. Ready to start the oven and fix breakfast."
It was an unwieldy wrestling match^ but Scott finally placed the water-activated strobe light on top of the canopy and closed the flap to the entrance. The wind chill factor immediately dropped to nil. He arranged the whistle, signal mirror, dye marker, bailing bucket, first-aid packet, and flare kit by the water and rations kit.
"Here," he said, handing Jackie an emergency space blanket. "Crawl under this and warm yourself."
"Thanks."
She curled up under the blanket and Scott draped another blanket over her legs. Jackie accepted a tropical chocolate bar and then had a long drink of water from a plastic canteen. 14Well, one thing's for sure, it's nice and cozy with the canopy up."
Still shivering, Scott managed a half smile. "Yeah, spending quality time together in the great outdoors."
She swallowed another drink of water. "The alternative could've been a lot worse: lying on the bottom of the Atlantic."
They remained lost in their thoughts while the life raft bobbed up and down in the choppy waves. Late morning saw the beginning of the end of the downpour. When the sun began peeking through occasional holes in the low overcast, Scott picked up the bailing bucket. He opened the canopy flap and methodically began scooping water out of the raft. What a stupid and dangerous thing I did.
Finally, he used the sponge to drain the last of the water out of the raft and then shut the flap. "Home sweet home."
She stared at him thoughtfully "If you could be anywhere right now, where would it be?"
He looked up, his eyes quizzing her. "That's a loaded question. I'd choose to be in Gander yesterday and stay on the ground."
"I said right now, not yesterday."
Scott's voice was even and matter-of-fact. "Under the circumstances, I'd say in the Rowes Wharf Bar at the Boston Harbor Hotel, thinking about the dumbest thing I've ever done — not counting yesterday."