The Dark Edge Chronicles - Hardwire

Chapter 17: Sword in the Stone

"Stand by!" Mordecai murmured softly into the throat mike he wore as he looked out over the helipad. The broad platform sat on the back of the small surplus Canadian naval destroyer, which the man in black had renamed the 'Skipjack' shortly after purchasing it from the Canadian naval base in Esquimalt, British Columbia. The doughty little warship, built shortly after the second World War, had been decommissioned and was sitting in Esquimalt Harbor, waiting to rust to the waterline.

Spotting the still serviceable little ship, retired because of a shrinking Canadian military budget, during one of his equipment and supply runs, Mordecai had immediately made arrangements to purchase her. That was followed by a quick, nocturnal translocation to a hidden bay along the British Columbian coast where the Skipjack was refitted and refurbished into a floating command center for Avalon.

Now, reinforced with psyken and enhanced materials, the already well-made craft was at home in the heavy seas just south of the Alaskan Panhandle. Almost as at home as the autumn storms that darkened both the sea and the skies above, sure signs of approaching winter here, in the northern Pacific.

The thick Chinook SeaKing helicopter that hovered over that same pad paused in its descent as crewmembers scrambled out from cover to grab the towrope that dangled from the chopper's belly. Taking hold of the thick hawser, they snapped the big hook on its end into a steel loop set into the helipad's steel deck before turning to give Mordecai the thumbs up. As they scrambled back for cover, Mordecai thumbed the talk switch on the mike.

"You are tethered, Skipjack One. Commence to hover against the line!"

The pilot, his helmeted head visible in the water-streaked cockpit nodded in acknowledgement and the helicopter climbed slowly until the tow rope snapped taut. Holding the SeaKing there, the pilot radioed back. Mordecai heard his voice in the earpiece he had inserted in his right ear as he said:

"We're hovering against the line, Skipjack. Permission to commence reel-in."

"You are green for reel-in, Skipjack One. Pull her in and welcome back." He looked over to the right of the pad where a small crew stood ready with tie-down equipment to secure the chopper as soon as it was on-deck. Catching their eyes, he nodded.

The crew immediately acknowledged with thumbs up and began preparing their gear as the helicopter began to reel itself down onto the Skipjack's deck. The SeaKing's main rotor provided the force to keep the heavy aircraft aloft to ensure that the ship didn't abruptly jump up and smack it as it pounded its way through the heavy swell.

As soon as it was down, the securing crew was scrambling forward to secure the big helicopter to the deck, heavy chains, hawsers and hooks used to tightly lock the helicopter down so it wouldn't slide all over the deck in the heavy seas. As soon as it was firmly attached to the Skipjack's deck, the crew's chief gave the pilot the thumbs up and, a heart beat later, the big sliding door on the side of the dark gray chopper opened. With the door out of the way, several people in bright orange marine survival/safety jump suits hopped out, steadied on the deck by members of the securing crew.

Ducking against the downwash from the SeaKing's rotors, they ran to meet the tall, dark man dressed in a dark blue set of utility overalls, with a white turtleneck worn beneath. Mordecai also wore heavy boots to protect his feet against the chill of the water sloshing up on deck, propelled by the autumn seas.

The first of the orange-suited visitors, a sandy haired man with a ginger colored beard, quickly held out his hand.

"Pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. O'Hara," the man shouted over the snarl of the SeaKing's engines and the roar of the surging sea all around them as he took Mordecai's extended hand to give it a firm shake.