Judd gestures to Corey. ‘Out!’ The Australian doesn’t need to be asked twice. He jumps, lands hard, stays on his feet.
Judd pushes through the hatch as the barrier net snaps. ‘Fu—’ He’s jolted left and whacks his head against the side of the spacecraft. He falls back inside as the shuttle grinds along the edge of the ship towards the surging ocean.
The spacecraft noses down then flips into the sea, tail over cockpit.
52
A sailor shouts: ‘We need boats in the water now!’
Corey sprints to the edge of the deck and looks down, searches for Judd. He can’t see him. Upside down, Atlantis wallows on the surface as a wave crashes over its ripped thermal tiles. Its nose drops low as water rushes in through the open viewport and hatch.
A sailor runs to Corey, a walkie to his ear: ‘How many people inside?’
‘Just one.’
The sailor barks the information into his walkie then scurries away as a deafening howl cuts across the sky. Corey glances behind him, sees the Harrier, the one that blew the black chopper out of sky, touch down at the far end of the deck.
He turns back to the shuttle. It’s sinking fast, is almost fully submerged. He scans the ocean, willing Judd to surface. ‘Come on!’
He doesn’t. Atlantis slips below the waterline and disappears.
Judd floats in the shuttle’s mid-deck. His eyes slowly open. It’s dark and murky and he can’t see a damn thing. The water is freezing.
Something presses down on him from above. He touches it, thinks it’s the mid-deck’s rear wall but can’t be sure. Whatever it is, the spacecraft is sinking, and it’s taking him down with it.
A hand touches his arm. He turns. The dead Frenchman floats in front of him. Judd pushes the body away, reaches out, searches for the hatch. He can’t find it, can’t see anything, can’t seem to devise an ingenious solution to this life-or-death problem. It’s too dark and so cold. His lungs scream, his head feels light. He thinks about Rhonda, hopes they can save her.
His eyes close.
A hand seizes his arm.
Corey drags Judd through the shuttle’s hatch. Light glints far above. It’s not gold or diamonds or treasure but something even more valuable, the ocean’s surface.
He kicks hard, wills himself towards it. This is not how he imagined his first swim in the Pacific would go. He hopes the surface is close because his lungs are burning and his head feels light..
He explodes out of the water, gasps air, drags the unconscious American to the surface. A wave swamps them, drives them into the hull of the carrier. It hurts more than he thought it would. He pushes his hand under Judd’s head to keep his face above water, scans the ocean. He’s not sure how long he can keep him afloat.
A Zodiac inflatable skid-thumps over the swell towards them. Corey’s thrilled to see it. ‘Thank you, US Navy!’
The boat swings around and hands reach down, drag them onto the deck. Corey moves to Judd, clears his mouth, listens to his chest. His heart has stopped. He pumps his chest. No response. A sailor leans over Judd, performs mouth-to-mouth.
‘Breathe! Come on!’ Corey pumps Judd’s chest but it’s not working. He’s not responding —
A cough, and water gushes from Judd’s mouth and he gulps air. His eyes blink open and find Corey, his voice a croak: ‘Thanks, Blades.’
Corey grins his crooked grin. ‘No worries, Mandy.’
53
One minute.
According to the doctor, when Rhonda hit the gurney she was one minute from death’s door. She’d be pushing up daisies if not for the exemplary work of the USS George H. W. Bush’s medical crew. And Judd. He landed a space shuttle on an aircraft carrier for her.
She lies in bed in the ship’s infirmary. Her newly relocated shoulder is numb, as is the bullet wound, but she’s not thinking about her injuries. She’s spent the time since she came out of surgery thinking about Judd, how he’d put his life on the line to rescue her. She thought she knew him so well but he had surprised her more than she thought possible.
The infirmary’s door swings open. It’s Judd. He wears a fresh flight suit but looks like he’s passed through the gates of hell, his face scarred and bruised, his left arm in a sling. Then he smiles and she sees his eyes are bright and, it seems to Rhonda, full of joy.
‘How are you?’
He gingerly sits in the chair beside her bed. ‘Cracked ribs, stitches. You?’
‘Better.’ She studies him. ‘Thanks to you.’ Tears fill her eyes. Surprised, she brushes them away with an embarrassed smile. ‘Oh man, I’m Costnering. Haven’t cried in front of anyone since I was seven.’
Judd grins. ‘It’s okay.’
‘I could have done more.’
He tilts his head, not sure what she means.
‘When you needed me I–I should have done more, to support you.’
‘You did it before the landing. That’s when it counted.’
‘Should’ve happened long before that.’
‘Don’t blame you. The way I was acting, it just — it wasn’t a good look.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
He gently wipes a tear from her cheek. ‘My God, tears, apologies? What have you done with Rhonda Jacolby?’ He nods at the intravenous drip connected to her arm. ‘Must be the morphine.’
She chuckles, then grimaces from the pain. ‘Please don’t make me laugh.’
‘Sorry, but it is great to hear.’
Her eyes find his and she studies him for a long moment, this man she thought she knew so well. ‘I missed you.’
He smiles. ‘Well, I’m back.’
She leans over and kisses him and realises she couldn’t be happier about that.
A deep noise rolls across the desert. It sounds like a thunderstorm except there are no clouds in the sky.
Spike looks up at the giant grey shape overhead. He turns and runs from it as fast as his little doggie legs will carry him, self-preservation overpowering curiosity.
The grey shape pulls into a tight bank then lands gently on the desert with a blast of red dust. Thirty metres away, Spike stops and looks back at the giant machine.
A figure emerges through the red dust. Spike focuses on it.
Corey.
Spike trots over and barks at him.
‘Somewhere at the bottom of the Pacific, mate.’
Another bark.
‘Long story, but yes, that’s why my clothes are wet.’
Another bark.
‘He’s on the aircraft carrier. Where the shuttle landed.’
A bark.
‘It’s true, and I’ve got to go back there now. I need to be debriefed or something. Mandy had to pull a favour so I could get you. Come on, we need to go.’
A bark.
‘I came back, didn’t I? If you’d been on the chopper you’d be at the bottom of the Pacific too.’
A bark.
‘I’m not doing that.’
A growl.
Corey takes a moment and sighs. ‘Sorry.’
A bark.
Corey hangs his head. ‘And I won’t do it again.’ He points at the Sea Stallion. ‘Can we go now?’
Spike barks, turns and trots away.
‘Where are you going?’
Corey turns to the two crew members sitting in the Sea Stallion’s rear compartment. He forces a smile then holds up a finger and mouths ‘one minute’. They nod, and both look quite unsettled.
Spike trots back to Corey, something swinging from his mouth.