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Breakthrough(30)

By:Michael C. Grumley


“Anything?”

Lee shook his head dejected. One of the small devices on the table abruptly slid with the pitch of the ship and he quickly grabbed it before it fell off.

Alison turned around and looked at Chris who shared her worried expression. “We may have lost them,” he offered gently.

Alison shook her head. “No.” She looked down at Lee again who took the hint and typed another message to them.

Clay stepped into the room from the other side of the bridge. He nodded to Captain Emerson. “All of the passengers are in the lounge. It’s a little tight but they should be fine, though several have gotten sick. They’re sitting close to the door.”

Emerson nodded and they both looked over at Alison and her team. They crossed the rest of the room before Emerson spoke. “I’m afraid we’re out of time.”

Alison held on bracing herself against the wall. “Just ten more minutes. Please! We can’t leave without them.”

“Young lady we can’t wait any longer. If things get worse, we’re going to be in some serious trouble. We have to leave!”

“Please!” she begged. “You don’t know what losing them would do to us!”

Clay leaned slightly toward Emerson. “It will take us at least five minutes to get the anchor up.”

Emerson stared at him, then at Alison. He exhaled and looked over this shoulder. “Officer Harris.”

The first officer quickly turned around. “Yes sir!”

“Let’s get the anchor up.”

“Yes sir.” He turned back to his console and picked up a phone.

A grim Emerson turned back to Alison. “It’s going to take five or six minutes to raise that anchor. You have until then. But when it’s up, we’re leaving! Understood?”

Alison gave a meek nod. “Thank you.”

In the bow of the ship, a giant motor slowly began turning and reeling in the enormous anchor chain. The ship was beginning to pitch wildly as huge swells rolled in under the Pathfinder. With each swell the bow shot high into the air and crashed down on the other side. The dolphin tank on the stern had lost almost of third of its water to the violent up and down movements of the ship.

In the lounge, purses and camera bags fell off the shelves and tumbled across the floor. Everyone tried to find something to hold onto and a few became frightened when they lost their hold and fell on top of the person next to them.

Suddenly the ascending anchor chain stopped with a loud clang.

Two crewmen below deck examined the anchor windlass and tried the motor again. Nothing moved. They tried again with more power. This time the motor remained frozen and started releasing a small cloud of gray smoke. The two men quickly adjusted the controls and reversed the direction trying to unwind the chain again; still nothing. The giant anchor was clearly wedged on the bottom.



With phone in hand, first officer Harris looked at Captain Emerson, who like everyone aboard heard the loud noise and felt the sudden jolt of the ship. “The anchor windlass is jammed.”

Emerson’s eyes widened. “Well get it cleared!”

“We can’t sir, we’ve tried.”

Emerson and everyone else in the bridge were struggling to maintain a solid hold on something. He looked out the window again. The skies were still clear but the ocean was continuing to worsen, and quickly. He looked at Clay who gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

“Cut it!” he told Harris.

“Aye sir,” the first officer replied.



Below deck one of the two crewmen dropped a dark mask over his face and fired up a giant torch. He looped one arm over the large notched wheel and the second stood behind him and tried to provide support. The torch flame touched one of the giant chain links and slowly began cutting the thick metal.



In the bridge the communication officer picked up another handset. He listened for a moment and turned to Clay.

“Mr. Clay, you have a ship to shore call.”

Clay stumbled forward reaching for the end of the bridge’s giant console. “Who the hell is it?”

The young man spoke into the phone and listened. “Caller is a Steve Caesare.”

“For Christ sake,” Clay growled. “Tell him I’ll call him back.”

He relayed the message and looked back at Clay. “He says it’s urgent.”

Clay snatched the phone and almost yelled into the mouthpiece. “Not a good time Steve!”

“Are you okay?” asked Caesare.

“Yeah. Got our hands full. Make it fast.”

Caesare’s tone was serious. “John listen. We found something on the video from Triton.”

“Go.”

“There is something big on the ocean floor.” Caesare said. “Something really big.”