Corso stood on the other side, ready to help them out. Through his goggles, he stared down at his watch. He held up one finger to the men and they nodded.
In a fog, DeeAnn yelled to Corso. “Why aren’t you attached to anyone?”
“It would exceed the weight limit of the chute.”
Her eyes shot open. “There’s a weight limit?!”
Corso ignored her and motioned to the men. Tiewater and Anderson both reached around, folding DeeAnn and Juan’s arms in across their chests.
Behind them, Caesare smiled into Dulce’s trusting eyes and whispered into her left ear. “This time like a bird.”
DeeAnn’s heart nearly froze as she peered straight out the door at the blue sky with green treetops far below. The last clear image she saw was Anderson’s hands reaching past her and gripping each side of the door, followed by a hard push.
OH… MY… GOD!
46
A minute later, Joe leaned out from his cockpit seat and looked back through the cabin.
Everyone was out.
He banked into a hard left turn, giving him a clear view of the ground below, and counted parachutes. Satisfied, he gradually leveled the DC-3 and headed back the way they came.
He was surprised to find signs of the storm still visible on the horizon. At that distance, he shouldn’t have seen anything. He didn’t know yet that the storm had once again turned east toward him.
It took less than an hour to realize how much trouble he was in. With nowhere to land before the Peruvian border, he was left with just one very bad option.
He would not make it back.
Two hours later, Joe Marcionek, a sixty-three-year-old ex-Army pilot who had helped thousands of suffering souls by flying in the face of political tyrants… would reach his final twilight.
His last moments would be a fight to the very end, and without a single regret.
47
Echo Pier was located in San Juan, Puerto Rico. It served as the primary base of operations for all United States Coast Guard activity in the eastern Caribbean Sea.
Overlooking the Bahía de San Juan, the “Sector,” as it was officially known, was the region’s only Search and Rescue station. It was also the nearest marine dock both secure and large enough to accommodate most of the U.S. Navy’s larger ships.
The six shore units included management of two of the nation’s busiest ports and the protection of over 1.3 million square miles of open ocean. However, at that moment, the station’s commanding officer had his full attention glued to the window. Captain F. D. Arthur watched the arrival at Echo Pier with a touch of anxiety, particularly after receiving a call directly from Admiral Langford only hours before.
The gleaming white hull of the arriving ship was known well at the Sector, serving as not just one of the Atlantic’s primary research vessels, but perhaps its most distinguished — the U.S.S. Pathfinder.
Captain Emerson stood on the ship’s bridge, stoically. He watched as it eased alongside the giant dock, its huge rubber fenders shrieking against the concrete pillars. Heavy mooring lines were lowered to where they were tied around bollards large enough for children to climb on. The dock’s twelve-foot fenders gave up their final protest, permanently coming to rest, pressed against the Pathfinder’s thick steel hull.
Emerson heard the Pathfinder’s diesel engines disengage and nodded to his first officer, Harris. Emerson then crossed the small room and opened the metal and glass door, stepping out into the warm sun. He continued along a lightly painted gangway until he reached the end and then descended a ladder to the ship’s main deck.
Emerson continued down two more levels before continuing aft. When he reached the stern, he stopped to observe the flurry of activity.
Two of the ship’s winches had been removed by his crew, making just enough room on the platform for a twenty-thousand-gallon water tank. This one larger than they’d built before… and for good reason.
Lee Kenwood briefly held up a finger over his shoulder before returning it to the keyboard and resuming his typing.
“Not yet.”
“It’s time, Lee.”
“I know, I know. I just need to finish this one module.” He continued typing hastily for another minute before stopping to double-check his work. When he was sure, he saved the window and clicked another button to begin compiling. He pushed himself away from the desk, rolling backwards and twirling his chair to face an impatient Alison.
“Done?”
“For the moment,” he nodded. “Enough to get things started. The rest I can do en route.”
“Good. Because we’re about to be late.”
“Sorry.” Kenwood leapt from his chair and stuffed his laptop into a backpack. “But believe me, that was something you definitely wanted me to do.” He then trotted to a wide cart holding several pieces of hardware. “Locked and loaded.”
Alison examined the computers stacked neatly on the cart, along with two large plastic containers packed with more equipment and peripherals.
“Fine. What were you working on?”
“I made some progress on that problem we had last time with IMIS getting confused with too many translations happening all at once. I identified the acoustical signatures for Dirk and Sally and am trying to create a filter based on those. It should help us single them out from other dolphin exchanges.”
“That’s great, Lee.”
He shrugged. “We shouldn’t get too excited yet. It’s probably going to take quite a bit of tweaking.”
That thought worried Alison. They were going to need to make it work sooner than that. But instead, she just nodded at his cart. “Are you sure you have everything?”
“Yep.” He patted one of the servers affectionately. “Redundant servers and as much data as they can hold. More powerful too.”
“Good.” She stepped in front of Lee as he began to move, reaching the door first and holding it open for him. Together, they wheeled their way to the elevator.
“Is Kelly here yet?”
“Yes. She and Chris are waiting at the dock. Everything else is packed.”
The elevator door opened and Lee rolled the cart inside, followed by Alison, who pressed the button for the bottom floor.
“So, about this audio signature thing.” There was a slight bounce as the elevator began to move. “How much tweaking do you think it will take?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never done it before. Probably a lot, but we can start on the way.”
Alison nodded. They didn’t have a lot of choice. They were in a rush, but she was worried about the trip for another reason. This wasn’t like their last trip where Dirk and Sally traveled alongside their small boat. That was much slower, but they had the luxury of multiple days, which made the arrangement possible.
This time, they were transporting the dolphins in order to get there faster. Something they had done only once before. On the same ship, as a matter of fact, but it was over a much shorter distance. This time, they were headed to Trinidad, which would take just over eight hours. The tank would be bigger, but still a very tight fit for two dolphins. And there was a finite amount of time they could remain in such a confined space with certain “needs.” It was also why they were swimming alongside them now to reach the Pathfinder in San Juan. It wasn’t something most people thought about, but Alison knew that without a bathroom break beforehand, they would soon have a natural problem on their hands.
The elevator reached the lower floor and opened again, where Alison and Lee wheeled out through one of the building’s side exits, into the warm morning sun. A strong wind blew against them when they rounded the corner of the building. Upon reaching the wooden ramp, Lee stepped around and guided the cart down slowly from the front.