Chapter Twelve: A Staggering Blow
The trip to Elisabeth was uneventful and Emily found herself wishing that she could have gone to Victoria with Katie. She only had to drop off a few last-minute supplies for Elisabeth to stem them over until the end of the season. Since she had arrived late in the evening, she slept over in the room vacated by one of the male personnel and was wakened by Connor, the base's rather attractive young scientist. "Miss Hawkins? You have a call from McMurdough," he told her in a gentle Scottish accent.
"I'm up," she growled, tossing her pillow on the floor and kicking off her covers. As she sat up, she ran a hand through her hair to make it lay flat and smooth again, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Connor.
"You look lovely, Miss Hawkins," he said with a smile. "But hurry: a Captain Mitchell would like to speak with you."
Embarrassed and flattered, Emily yanked on a sweatshirt over her lighter sleepwear and followed him out into the common room, blinking groggily in the sudden light. Connor led her to the communications booth and handed her the headset. She nodded her thanks to him and turned her attention to the other end of the line. "This is Emily Hawkins," she said, resting one hand on the side of the booth as she felt herself become more fully awake.
"Hawkins?" Captain Mitchell's gruff voice crackled over the line. "Where have you been?"
Fighting to keep a grin out of her voice at his gruffness, she replied, "Sleeping, sir."
"Yes, well, don't expect an apology," he said brusquely. "How soon can you get everyone out of there?"
Emily glanced up inquiringly at Aaron Connelly, the base's leader. "How soon can you get everyone out of here?" she mouthed to him.
He computed quickly in his head and said, "Everyone is present and accounted for. If we work efficiently, we'll be able to make it out by tomorrow morning."
She nodded briefly and spoke again into the headset, "I can get everyone out by tomorrow morning, sir."
"Good," came the gruff reply. "I want you and the British team back at McMurdough as quickly as possible. There are a couple of massive low-pressure systems moving in and the first one is likely to hit the coast within the week. Just get everyone out of there and report to me when you arrive. McMurdough out." The comm. crackled and went silent.
One of the scientists approached Emily and pressed a bowl of hot oatmeal into her hands. "'Ere," she said in a heavy Yorkshire accent, "Eat up, miss. Ye'll need your strength."
However, Emily was too anxious to get back to McMurdough and check for Katie. She wolfed down her breakfast and joined in the effort to get all the gear packed. There followed a dizzying flurry of activity as everyone rushed to collect and safely package samples, store food, and stow personal belongings. Fortunately, only four people were stationed at Elisabeth and the plane's cargo hold could take everything in one trip.
By that evening, Emily fell gratefully into bed and slept a deep, dreamless sleep until Connor shook her awake again. "Miss Emily, it's time to go," he said.
Groaning groggily, she rolled over and checked her watch. "Six in the morning? You're nuts," she grumbled as she dropped her head back down on the pillow again. "Wake me in four hours."
Connor laughed. "You know we can't fly the plane without you, Miss Emily, but so help me, Aaron and I will drag you out there by your toes if you're not up in ten minutes."
"You Brits are pushy, aren't you?" she growled, lifting her head to look at him.
"Not all of us ma'am, just the brilliant young scientists."
"Hmm," she grunted as she flicked back her covers and got up. Connor left and she hurriedly changed and stuffed her last few belongings in her coat pockets and entered the common room.
"The wind's picking up a bit," the meteorologist announced, "But then, we're a lot closer to this bloody storm than McMurdough is."
"Don't worry about it, I'll try to get you guys back to base in one piece," Emily said as she crossed the room and scooped up an energy bar.
"Well, that's reassuring," Aaron Connelly remarked dryly, entering behind her.
The flight itself was rough on the passengers and more than a little draining on Emily's nerves as she juggled one slipstream after another. Twice, she nearly lost control of the plane, but eventually, she guided it safely to the McMurdough runway and into the hangar. They debarked the plane into the warm, welcoming arms of the ground crew and medical personnel.
As soon as she was cleared of hypothermia or any other cold-related condition, Emily sought out Captain Mitchell and eventually found him in the weather tracking center, overseeing the orders to evacuate. She cleared her throat to get his attention.
"Ah," he said, spinning around, "Hawkins. Report?"
"All personnel evacuated, sir. We returned without mishap."
"Very good, that is one more base evacuated," he said, apparently satisfied.
"Sir?" Emily asked tentatively, "If you don't mind my asking… Katie? Is she back yet?"
"Yamesch?" The officer thought for a moment. "I don't recall Victoria's status. You may radio her, Hawkins, in that terminal there," he told her, pointing.
"Thank you, sir," Emily said gratefully. She approached the radio transmitter and picked up the mouthpiece, pressing the signal to hail Victoria's station. "Victoria, this is McMurdough base, checking in for a status report, over?" Silence crackled over the line. "Victoria, this is Emily. Katie, are you there? Come in, over?"
More silence, then, "Emily?" It was Katie's voice.
"Katie! Why are you still there? You have to get out! Didn't Captain Mitchell warn you about the storms? You have to get everyone out now!"
"We can't, Em." Even over the static of the intercom, Emily could hear the quaver in her friend's voice. "Jerry's still out in the field with Doctor McClaren."
Feeling as though she'd just been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer, she managed to ask in a shaky voice, "Jerry's still out in that?" She pulled the mouthpiece away from her face and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Is he all right?"
"We don't know. We contacted him yesterday and he said he was on his way, but when I tried to radio him this morning, I got nothing, not even static."
"Are you coming back?" Emily asked as her stomach seemed to drop down to her toes, "Without him?"
"No," Katie said firmly. "We're staying here until we find him. We'll just hole up until the storms pass."
"Katie, you can't." Emily felt the energy drain out of her at the thought of Katie and the rest of the Victoria stafftrying to wait out those enormous storm systems. "They've… they've cancelled the winter teams. No one's coming in or out after the second storm hits. You won't have enough food to survive out there for the whole winter."
"Then we'll have to trust that he'll make it back. He knows of the storm at least," Katie said in a strangely over-bright voice. "Pray for us, Em. Victoria out."
"But –" Emily began, only to be cut off by the end of the transmission. Dejectedly, she laid the mouthpiece down and moved away from the communications terminal, her hand shielding her watery eyes from view.
Captain Mitchell had overheard enough of the conversation to determine the reason for Emily's reaction and he knew her well enough to know that the best way to get her mind off something was to put her to work. Adopting a gentleness of tone he'd never used with her, he instructed her to get something hot to drink and then to start helping the maintenance crews load the heavy crates into the massive holds of the cargo planes. He also told her that she was scheduled for the fourteen-hundred-hour flight to New Zealand the next day and to ready her gear before then. She nodded numbly in acknowledgement of his instructions and then went to work, attacking her tasks with a zeal and ferocity that left him suitably impressed.
Even though he appreciated her drive to work hard, he was the father of a now-married daughter and understood a little of the inner stress she was struggling to deal with. He didn't know how deeply she cared for the people at Victoria, but, after watching the blood drain from her face as she talked to her closest friend, Katie Yamesch, he had no doubts that the loss of one of the staff was a hard blow for her to take. After supper rations were distributed, he approached her and ordered her to return to her quarters and pack her own things. She was just about to obey when the communications officer leaned out of his terminal.
"Is an Emily Hawkins here?" he called.
Author's Note: Ha ha ha! Yay for cliffies! By the way: for those of you who don't know, fourteen-hundred hours is standard military time - directly translated, it's about two o' clock in the afternoon. Thought you might want to know. Reviews Please!