Damn. She sounded competent. Dane looked out over the horizon. Sure enough he could see little tiny dots of green and gold in an endless sea of blue.
"I don't know how far away that is." Cooper wiped away the sweat dotting his forehead. "We started at about thirty-five thousand feet. Damn, it's been so long. My father made us all learn how to fly cropdusters, but they were little prop planes. I had a little training in the Navy, but … "
"What's the wind like, tail or head?" Alea asked. "I'm sorry. I should be able to feel it, but I'm still a bit woozy."
Coop visibly calmed as Alea spoke, as though focusing and doing his level best to save her. "It's a tail wind, baby. It's at our back. Do you know anything about flying?"
She nodded. "I do. I took lessons when I was a teenager and I studied hard. I always did. In a glide, we'll lose four to five thousand feet a minute. We're light and have a tail wind. We've got around six or seven minutes. We're going to go past those patches of land, but like I said, there should be other islands in the region. Get us close, Coop. Even if we hit the water, we'll swim. At least I hope I can swim."
Damn, his girl was smart even when she'd been drugged. A ridiculous pride surged in his chest. "She's right, Coop. You can do this. And Lea, don't you worry. Even if you're still weak, we'll get you to safety. I can swim with you on my back if I have to."
It would be rough, but if Coop could get them close to land, they could survive. Because they damn straight wouldn't last in the open ocean. This was warm water. Sharks. Every Navy man knew the story of the USS Indianapolis. She went down in the Central Pacific during World War II, and three hundred were lost in the sinking. The remaining nine hundred or so went into the water. During the next four days, almost six hundred men were consumed by sharks.
These were the waters below. No fucking shark was going to take his crew. They were going to live, goddamn it.
First, he had to hope that Coop could actually land the plane and keep it from breaking apart. Even if he set down on the water, they could all survive if the crash was controlled and they got to land fast.
Six minutes. He had six minutes.
Dane put a hand on Alea's shoulder. "I'm going to help Lan. You keep Coop on the right path. I'll be back in a minute."
Her face turned up, and he saw a strength there that blew him away. "We'll be good. Get my suitcase. I'm ridiculously organized and I pack for everything. I have a first aid kit and some other helpful things, including a box of protein bars. I wasn't sure I could find them in Australia. It's the Louis Vuitton roller case."
Well, of course. She would stave off Armageddon while wearing designer heels. "Will do, baby."
He jogged back, determined to find that bag. Even if they dumped it in the ocean, if it was close enough, he could dive and find it.
Toward the back, he discovered that Lan had made a little mountain of crap on the floor. He'd pulled out wires, blankets, a small tool kit. Yes. He'd filled a backpack with extra water bottles and found enough odds and ends to build a desalinization port if they ran out of water.
The wire they could fashion into hooks and weapons. The sea would provide protein if they had the tools to get it. He knew enough about plants and herbs to know what to eat and what to avoid. They had the tools. They just needed the chance to survive.
He walked through the curtain and toward the back. Lan had decimated the food station. He'd taken everything except the ceramic mugs. Mistake. Ceramic made great knives. They all had a few, but it never hurt to bring more. And he'd left a pot. They would need that. The heavy plastic of the useless life raft would mean nothing if they didn't have a damn container. Potable water would be their first goal. The bottled stuff wouldn't last.
Lan walked through, carrying the luggage. He had all of their cases, including Alea's Louis Vuitton bag. "I shoved some extra blankets and pillows into those."
"Good. Did you find the flare guns?"
Lan nodded. "I wrapped them in plastic. They should be safe from the water."
The plane dipped, now at a steeper angle, nearly sending him careening forward. Closer to the ocean. The phantom of the Indianapolis played through his head. He couldn't let his men die. God, he couldn't let Alea die.
"No matches," Lan said, bracing himself against the wall.
The plane lurched again, the sensation causing Dane's stomach to roll. Faster and faster, they were going down.
"Suit up," Dane barked.
If Coop set them down flat, keeping the nose up, they would float for a brief time. They could get the door open and get to land.
Dane could feel the force of the descent pulling them down, threatening to tear the plane apart. The whole aircraft shuddered. But Coop managed to bring the nose up again as he and Lan gathered all the stuff and shoved them into whatever packs and suitcases they could find.