The lights failed two seconds later, plunging them into blackness.
The room echoed with yelps of panic that were allayed when Wiggo switched on the sight-light of his rifle and the privates followed suit.
“Davies, we got any torches in the kit?”
“I’ll check.”
Wiggo waved his light around the room until it fell on the operator at the control panel.
“What happened?”
“We lost power,” the man said.
“No shit, Sherlock. What caused it?”
“My guess? Water got into the main panel in the engine room.”
“Backup generator?”
“Also in the engine room.”
“I can fix that up right quick,” one of the crew said.
“I’ll go with you,” another piped up.
“Sorry, lads,” Wiggo said, raising his voice so all could hear. “You can’t do that.”
“You can’t tell us what to do,” the first man replied.
“In this case, I can. The engine room’s flooded. The water’s all the way up the stairs to the door on the deck below us. It’s why I moved us all up here in the first place.”
A stunned quiet fell over the room.
“We’re sinking?” Tom said, little more than a whisper.
“Aye. But slowly. The chopper will be here before we get into real trouble.”
He tried to put some conviction into his voice but as he waved his light beam around, he saw the skepticism on the men’s faces.
Davies came up out of the kit back with two flashlights. Wiggo passed one to Tom and one to the operator at the control desk.
“I don’t ken how old the batteries are in these, so save them until we really need them.”
He had Davies and Wilkins switch off their rifle lights, aimed his own at the ceiling, and they all sat there, quiet again, under the umbrella of dim light it cast.
“Anytime now will do, Cap,” he whispered. “Anytime now.”
- 10 -
There had been no recurrence of the beast’s weird song for the last half-hour, although tensions in the control room on the rig were still running high.
“Do you have any fucking idea how much this shit-show is going to cost us?” the rig manager asked.
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your bottom line,” Banks replied. “And I doubt if many of your crew here, those out on yon lost floatel, or the men we lost down in the dark with what’s left of the supply boat give a flying fuck either. The important thing now is to get everybody to shore safely.”
A huge wave hit just at that moment and the whole rig shuddered under the impact. Banks ignored the still spluttering manager and addressed the operator at the radio.
“Any word on those choppers?”
“I just got off the blower with Aberdeen. One’s incoming, twenty minutes out weather permitting. There’s another two twenty minutes behind that.”
Banks turned to the manager again.
“You need to start getting people out to the helipad for evac. They’ll want to lift and clear as quickly as possible.”
“I’m not going to do that,” the man said.
Banks drew his pistol. He didn’t aim, kept it at his side, but he made sure the man saw it.
“Are you sure about that? Give the order, man. You know it’s the right thing to do.”
“I’m not allowed to evac except in the case of a catastrophic emergency,” Smith said.
“What do you think this is? Fucking Christmas?”
“It would cost me my job if I do.”
“It could cost you your life if you don’t.”
Banks hadn’t meant it as a threat, but he saw that the man had taken it that way. Either way, it had worked, for Smith quickly saw sense and an evac order went out over the tannoy.
“I’ll go with the first chopper,” Smith said, not looking Banks in the eye.
“Aye,” Banks replied quietly. “I thought you might.”
The man’s cheeks reddened but he kept his mouth shut, wisely, for Banks’ mood was darkening by the minute and it was starting to show. If he’d stayed there much longer, he couldn’t guarantee keeping his temper. He holstered his weapon and turned to Seton.
“Make sure he doesn’t do anything that’ll get anybody else killed, Sandy. I’ll go check on the sarge again.”
The doctor was working frantically packing a medical bag when Banks entered the small infirmary.
“The first chopper’s on its way,” he said. “Can we get him on it?”
“Your man’s still out cold, and it’s for the best if he stays that way if he’s to be moved. But I’m not going to have him ready to go in twenty minutes,” he said. “I need more time.”
“There’s two more choppers inbound behind that,” Banks replied. “We’ll get as many of the crew as we can out on the first one then see how we go from there. I’d like to travel with the sarge too, so we’ll go later.”
“That works for me. How long have we got?”
“Forty minutes do you?”
“Plenty. I’ll be ready in thirty, and we’ll meet you up on the helipad.”
“Thanks, doc. Nice to meet somebody that kens what they’re doing on this lump of metal.”
The doctor smiled.
“Don’t let my bedside manner fool you. I’m bloody terrified.”
“That makes two of us then. See you up top in thirty.”
He left the doc to it and headed back towards the control room, getting a soaking again in the process. There was a constant stream of crew out on the stairs heading out towards the helideck that was almost on the same level as the control room gantry but some thirty yards away on the northern side of the rig. Banks noted with some dismay that it had no shelter whatsoever and was exposed to the full wrath of the storm. The men who were making their way across the causeway towards it were bent almost double into the wind and looked to be having trouble standing.
He found Seton in the control room doorway smoking his pipe.
“The chopper will be here any minute,” Banks said. “You should get over to the pad.”
The older man shook his head.
“If you’re staying, I’m staying. Besides, I’ll need to see if my theory works.”
“You can see it from five hundred feet higher up as easily as you can see it from here.”
“No, I need to be at the controls. I might need to alter the volume or the cadence and…”
“Admit it, auld man. You just want another close up view of the beastie.”
“You know me too well. There is that. But there’s also the fact that I want to see the thing through. I came here with you and Hynd. I’d like to go back with you both. I’m part of the team, aren’t I?”
“I suppose you are at that. I’ll get you a wee badge made up when we get home.”
They were interrupted by a shout from inside the control room.
“The first chopper’s two minutes out and closing.”
Banks and Seton watched from the gantry, peering into the rain to try to catch a glimpse of the approaching rescue. As soon as they saw a searchlight washing on the waves and coming closer rapidly, Seton turned away towards the control room door.
“I’ll be inside. If the beast returns, I’ll try to control it.”
“Best of luck, wee man. Given the size of yon beast, you’ll need it.”
Despite having seen the old man in action against the monster they’d tracked down in Loch Ness, Banks was still skeptical; the memory of the great head staring right at him out on the gantry was still all too fresh in his mind. Sure, Nessie had been bad, but this thing here was an order of magnitude larger than that beast had been. The thought of controlling it wasn’t something he could get his head to understand.
“Maybe we will get lucky,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe it’ll stay away.”