With the access door behind the cockpit of the Sea Knight open, Turner and the Marine medic peered through the swirling debris of dust and ash. They searched for any sign of life on the now devastated rocky slope, while Samuel rooted through the box seat behind them for the rescue harness assembly. Major Zibrinski kept a close eye on the pilot caution panel indicators for any sign of engine trouble as she hovered along the partially collapsed fault line.
“If the map coordinates for the rock formation you spoke of are correct, we should be in their vicinity,” Zibrinski said over the aircraft intercom sets that all of them now wore. “Be advised, we won’t be able to stay here too long with the amount of ash in the air. The particles in the ash will basically sand-blast these engines until they seize,” she stated as the big Sikorsky pivoted around to give the men behind her a better view of the rocky edge of the slope.
“Any luck, Mr. Turner?” the major queried as she held the CH-46 on a steady track.
“Nothing yet, Major,” he replied tersely, seeing the devastation caused by the eruption and separation of the fault line. “Most of the ridge is obscured by ash. It’s going to be difficult to see anyone down there.”
“This is impossible. We’ll never find them in this,” the medic said nervously as he surveyed the disaster below them.
“We’ll find them, amigo,” Samuel said optimistically, but beginning to have some doubt as to their success. This is like trying to find a needle in a burning haystack.
Just then, the CH-46 intercoms came to life with the familiar voice of Colonel Kyle Sears. “Sid, swing around and fly south along the ridge. I’ve got two targets on my thermal imagery; one standing and one down. Over….”
Sears, after receiving the recall from the Hazleton, made a side trip en route to see if he could lend support. He now stood five hundred feet from the top of the newly-formed rock slide that menaced the small towns and sea far below.
“Roger that, Colonel,” Zibrinski responded in acknowledgment as she deftly swung the big chopper around and headed south towards the small ledge holding Eli and Maria. “Okay, I have a visual on them,” she said as she swung toward the tiny outcropping of basalt and came to a halt over the two besieged archaeologists. “Alright, gentlemen, get that winch going and be damned quick about it.”
“Major,” the co-pilot said anxiously, “I’m getting a caution light on the number two turbine gearbox. It’s the ash intake into the compressor.”
“Awe, crap,” Zibrinski said, and then advised the rescue team behind her. “We have got to do this now, guys. We’re flirting with engine trouble, but I’ll hold for as long as I can.”
“Got it, Major,” Turner replied as he grabbed the Blue Water rescue harness from Samuel and began climbing into it like a pair of trousers.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the medic yelled in protest as Turner began suiting up. “You’re not trained in rescue recovery.”
“Are you?” Turner asked as he grabbed the aluminum locking d-ring karabiners and snapped them on the end of the Kern mantle nylon rope.
“No, but—”
“Just get your medical supplies ready to receive my father when I come back up. He can’t wait for you to finish bringing both of them in,” he said in decisiveness as he swung himself out of the hatchway and into the swirling wind of the rotor wash. Samuel manned the winch controls and proceeded to let out the line, lowering Turner down to the miniscule ledge below.
He reached the rocky ledge in moments. Maria’s strong grip pulled him close to the wall and away from the steep ledge. He was stunned to see the amount of blood his father lost and was heartsick to see him so lifeless and pale as he knelt beside him.
“Dad, can you hear me?” he yelled over the roar of the Sea Knight’s rotors.
“Go! Take him first, Josh.” Maria yelled, looking at the anguish in his eyes. “I’ll be alright.”
“Okay, Maria,” Turner said, brushing her cheek with his hand, “I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.”
He grabbed his father around the mid-section, and wrapped his arms and legs around his limp body. Giving Samuel the thumbs-up sign, the line went taut as the two started to rise upward.
“What’s your engine situation, Sid?”Colonel Sears asked over the radio.
“Number two turbine is giving me trouble and…” she paused for a long moment. “Shit! There goes the CHIP alarm on number one,” she said, signifying metal fragments in the 90-degree gear box.
“Sid, you’ve got to abort right now,” Sears said in an alarming tone.
“No problem, Colonel, I’ve got plenty of time. The first survivor is coming aboard now.”
“Major, that’s an order! You can’t risk your aircraft trying to save them both. Abort now!”
“Sorry, Colonel, he’s already on his way down for the second survivor now,” she lied, hoping to gain a precious few moments.
Turner reached the entrance to the Sea Knight carrying his father, while Samuel and the Marine medic grabbed his unconscious body and pulled him inside. They laid him on the stretcher and the medic went to work immediately. Samuel hit the electric winch motor, sending Turner back down to recover Maria.
“Major, these turbines are going to flame out soon if we don’t get the hell out of here,” the co-pilot warned with trepidation, even though he was willing to follow the Major’s orders to the very end.
“We just need a few more minutes. Don’t worry, kid, this is a tough old bird. He’ll hold together,” she said to the co-pilot, and then whispered softly, “I hope….”
Maria watched expectantly as Turner was lowered back down on the electric winch line. She grabbed his outstretched hand as he came within reach and pulled him in away from the edge of the precipice, while Samuel let out more slack on the Kern mantle rope.
“I told you I’d pick you up at seven,” Turner said smiling, referring to his promise to her in the lava tube the night before.
“I never had any doubt,” Maria answered, her eyes revealing a longing that over-shadowed their weariness from the long ordeal. They both took one last glance at the destructive forces at work around them and prepared to ascend to the Sea Knight, when all at once the devastating process unleashed by Osama struck without warning.
At the precise moment of the Tomahawk’s annihilation of the Scalar weapon on Tenerife, the catastrophic chain reaction predicted by Yashiro came to a frightful realization. The EM discharge that resulted from the sudden cessation lashed out violently, venting its massive power at the interferometer zone within the magma chamber kilometers beneath the Cumbre Vieja.
Like a monstrous snap at the end of a whip, the massive discharge erupted into a huge plasma orb within the confines of the molten rock beneath La Palma causing a titanic explosion in the convergence zone. The immense pressure generated was the final catalyst in the sequence of events that would ultimately culminate in the Cumbre Vieja’s final death throes. The gigantic conflagration of molten rock and heat in the magma core burst outward, taking on a life of its own as the entire caldera began to cave in on itself. The collapsing cooler sediments near the surface reacted violently with the extreme heat within, precipitating a second explosion of apocalyptic proportions that sent a colossal shock wave in all directions.
Turner, with only seconds to react, instinctively grabbed Maria by the hand as the precarious perch that held them quickly disappeared into the chasm. The force of the motion sent him slamming into the hard basalt ledge and Turner felt something snap in his left arm. In pain and near the point of blacking out, he held onto Maria’s hand with all his might as the two dangled in mid-air, whirling about like toys on a string. His mind screamed at him in pain to let go and just sink into the blackness, but he fought it with every inch of his being.