Submerged (34 page)

“You think the water could undermine the
dam?”

“Let’s pray that it doesn’t. I’m also
concerned that a dam that has been holding millions of gallons of
water for over thirty years might crack or even fall back in on
itself.”

“What can we do?”

“At the moment, nothing.”

The wave action that had drenched the shore a
hundred feet up the grade settled, fed by a thousand new little
trickling rivers. But the water was not calm. The cavern below had
become a deep basin, holding water that boiled with chemical
ferocity. Gas percolated to the surface, boiling off into the clean
mountain air, fouling it with a stench Perry had become familiar
with and wished he could forget.

“You know,” Gleason said, “Dean had other men
when we first met him. There were four. He had one with him and
Finn.”

“I thought of that,” Perry said. He looked
along what used to be the shoreline. “I hope they weren’t too close
to the water.”

“You’re worried about men who threatened your
life?” Carl asked. “They didn’t do you any favors.”

“Human life is human life,” Perry said.
“Let’s go.”

Perry Sachs led his weary companions along
the slope toward the path that would take them to their cars. His
mind ached with the emotion, experiences, and thoughts that
strained at the fibers of his resolve. He had come here hoping to
find a clue that would save his father’s life and in the process
saw the death of Zeisler, one of Finn’s men, and maybe Dean and
Finn.

Submerged below the agitated waters was a
mystery beyond imagination, and instead of answers, he harbored
suspicions of what might have been. Those suspicions would have to
wait. One thought was more demanding than all the others. It was
something Zeisler said, something he offered moments before he
died.

Perry had to get to the satellite phone.

Anna Sachs had moved her chair as close to
Henry’s bed as possible. She gazed through the dim light and her
own flooded eyes at the man who had been her companion, lover, and
supporter for over forty years. He had fathered her only child. He
had been their anchor of faith.

Now he was a shell, almost empty of the
immeasurable quality of life. Every few moments, he moaned, but he
never moved. His white eyes stared through the slits his eyelids
formed. He gulped for air.

What would she do without him? How could she
slip into a bed that would no longer hold him? When the Seattle
nights turned cold, who would cuddle with her? No one. No one could
replace the man who was more her essence than her husband. In a
world where half of all marriages end in divorce, she had never
wanted another man or another life. Henry had been the steel in her
spine and the warmth of her heart.

“Not long now,” the doctor had said. “Maybe a
few hours. You should call your family together.”

Her family was somewhere in Nevada, hundreds
of miles removed, doing the desperate. How she wished Perry were
here to stand by her as she said good-bye to the man who was never
far from her thoughts. Perry would know what to do. He would have
the right words and offer the right thoughts.

The hospital chaplain had come by and prayed.
Anna appreciated it, but having a stranger pray for them brought no
comfort.

Visions of vacations, of parties, of long
winter evenings before a roaring fire, warming their feet while
drinking hot chocolate, flickered in her mind. Hopelessness was a
heavy emotion that taxed the spirit. She glanced at the clock on
the far wall. The second hand moved along its course, as if
sweeping away the last moments of Henry’s life.

She tried to steel herself for it. A person
of faith, she knew his next home, but the inferno of sadness burned
all the hotter. Heaven would be Henry’s gain, but Anna would still
lose the man she had loved.

What would she do when the last exhalation
signaled the departure of his soul? How would she respond? She
wanted to show the dignity that Henry said she possessed, but she
doubted she could. The dam of strength, determination, and resolve
was crumbling.

Tears rose like the tide. Her heart
fluttered, as if tired of living. She lowered her head. “I don’t
get it,” she prayed. “I don’t understand.” It was a simple prayer,
an honest confession. The words were not bitter or resentful. They
were just the only words she could utter.

The cell phone rang, and Anna jumped. She
didn’t want to answer. Its rude signal sounded again. Technology
had invaded her privacy. Nothing was sacred anymore. Once again its
tone filled the twilight of the room.

Anna reached for it. “Hello?”

“Mom. It’s Perry.”

“Oh, Perry, they say he has a few hours to
live, maybe less.”

“But he’s still alive?”

“Yes. Where are you?”

“In Nevada, but I’m coming home. Listen
carefully. I need to talk to Dr. Nishizaki right away.”

“I don’t know where he is. He was in
earlier.”

“How much earlier?”

Anna thought. “A couple of hours ago. What’s
wrong?”

“I’ll explain later,” Perry said. “Right now,
you must find Dr. Nishizaki.”

Anna stood and walked from the room, the cell
phone pressed to her ear. “Nurse.”

“Mrs. Sachs, you shouldn’t have that cell
phone in here. It interferes with patient telemetry.”

“I’m sorry, but this is an emergency. I need
to see Dr. Nishizaki.”

“Has Mr. Sachs . . . passed?” The nurse, a
woman in her fifties, rose from her seat.

“No. Please call Dr. Nishizaki. My son is on
the phone and needs to speak with him immediately.”

The nurse frowned. “I know this is a
difficult time, Mrs. Sachs, but . . .”

Anna’s patience snapped. “Listen, you call
the doctor right now, or I’m going to start opening every door in
this hospital until I find him.”

The nurse didn’t appear intimidated, but she
placed the call anyway.

Five minutes later, Dr. Nishizaki appeared in
the corridor. “What’s the problem, Mrs. Sachs?”

She didn’t answer but thrust the phone at the
doctor.

“This is Dr. Nishizaki. To whom am I
speaking?”

Anna couldn’t hear the other side of the
conversation, but whatever Perry was saying drained the blood from
the doctor’s face.

Chapter33

Perry shifted his
gaze from the
satellite phone in his hand to the speeding
sheriff’s SUV in front of them. The light bar on the patrol vehicle
cast red and blue light into the air. Jack kept the Hummer’s
accelerator pressed enough to keep up with Carl and Janet.

“Is he . . .” Jack began.

“He’s still alive, but Mom said he has only a
few hours at most,” Perry replied. “It might be as little as a few
minutes. No one can predict.”

“And the doctor?” Gleason asked from the
backseat.

“He sounded dubious, but I think I convinced
him. He said he’d have to call in some favors and break some
rules.”

“Do you think he will?” Gleason asked.

“I pray that he will.”

Jack steered the big vehicle from the
back-road path to the paved highway. Janet was behind the wheel of
the SUV, and she was wasting no time. Jack pressed the gas pedal,
and the big V8 came to life with a roar.

“I should be there,” Perry said.

“You will be,” Jack announced. “Gleason, we
should have cell phone coverage now. If we do, I want you to make a
call. If not, we’ll use the satellite phone.”

Perry heard Gleason moving things around in
the backseat. A minute later he said, “I got a signal. What’s on
your mind?”

“See if there’s a public airport near town. I
want to charter a plane for Perry.”

Minutes ticked by. Gleason worked the phone.
Jack pushed the Hummer faster and faster. Perry sat in the dark
stew of his emotions. Every second that ticked by was a second that
Perry’s father could die. He might be dead already.

The drive down the mountain was made at
breakneck speed, but the time passed with a painful slowness.
Gleason had succeeded in making connections with the airport.
“There’s a small charter service that runs out of the Tonopah
airport. A Piper PA30 Twin Comanche is waiting for you, Perry. I
told them this was an emergency and that they should be fueled and
ready to go when we arrive. He was a little suspicious, so we may
have to prove that we don’t have anything up our sleeves. It’s not
the fastest commercial aircraft, but it was the best I could get on
short notice.”

“It will do,” Perry said. “Thanks.”

“While you’re in flight,” Jack said, “I’ll
make arrangements for someone to pick you up at the airport and
drive you the hospital. Sachs Engineering has a few hundred
employees who would volunteer.”

Jack paused. “Gleason and I will get back
just as soon as we can. You’ll keep us posted, won’t you?” Perry
said he would. “We’ll keep praying.”

“Do that, guys. I think it’s prayer that has
kept Dad alive.”

And then Perry put action to his belief. He
leaned his head back and prayed.

Carl and Janet led Perry and the others to
the airport. Jack had flashed the Hummer’s lights until he had
their attention and pulled to the side of the road. Gleason bolted
from the backseat and ran to the sheriff’s vehicle to tell Carl and
Janet what they were planning. When he got back, Gleason said,
“They’re going to escort us.”

“He’s a gutsy little guy,” Jack said.

“He’s only little on the outside,” Perry
said. “He has heart.”

Five minutes out, Gleason called the charter
service again and gave them an ETA. Jack pulled straight to a
low-slung plane with two engines idling, their propellers spinning.
Ten feet away from the aircraft stood a man in a white shirt and
jeans and a man in a blue uniform.

“Security,” Jack said.

“Can’t blame them,” Perry said. “We live in
horrible times.” The three exited the Hummer. Carl and Janet exited
their vehicle, leaving the light bar flashing in the fading day.
They jogged ahead of Perry and the others.

Carl removed a leather case from his back
pocket and flashed his badge. “I’m Deputy Carl Subick; this is
Deputy Janet Novak.”

The security guard looked nervous and
unconvinced. Five people had just pressed in upon him. He took a
step back. “What happened to your uniform?” He looked them
over.

Perry did, too. Carl was in jeans and hiking
boots, and his clothing was stained with sweat. Janet was missing
her uniform shirt and her body armor, leaving her with uniform
pants and a T-shirt. Even her Sam Browne belt had been left
behind.

“It’s been a long day,” Janet said.

“I thought maybe you had been working
undercover.”

Carl laughed. “That’s a good way to put
it.”

The man in the white shirt spoke. “I’m Bob
Cartwright, owner and pilot. I was told there would be one
passenger.” He was a thick man with thinning hair.

“I’m the passenger,” Perry said. He
introduced himself. “I’m trying to get to Seattle.”

Cartwright studied him. “I need to search
your luggage.”

“No luggage. Feel free to search me.”

Cartwright did. “Your credit card cleared, so
I guess we’re good to go.”

“I appreciate this. I know it’s a little out
of the ordinary.”

“It’s more than a little weird.”

Perry turned to his friends. Jack gave him a
bear hug. “Tell your mom we love her. We’ll be there in a couple of
days.”

The good-byes were short. Five minutes later,
Perry was airborne.

The Piper twin engine had seating for four
passengers. Perry sat alone in the back while a single pilot, Bob
Cartwright, manned the cockpit. He seemed uncertain about the
sudden need of the flight, the number of people who showed up at
the airport, and Perry’s appearance.

“If you don’t mind me saying so,” Cartwright
began, “you look a little rugged.”

“I feel a little worn-out,” Perry said. “I
appreciate you doing this. It’s a great kindness.”

“The man on the phone, Gleason something,
said it was your father who was ill.”

“Gleason Lane,” Perry said. “My father is
dying. I’m trying to get home to see him.”

“I lost my father five years ago. We were
never close, but I miss him from time to time. You and your pops
get along?”

“We’re very close. Always have been.”

“That’s good. Real good,” the pilot said.

Perry leaned back and closed his eyes. Sleep
would be welcome.

“Hey,” Cartwright said. “You ever seen a
helicopter from the topside? Look out the left window. Those are
MH-60 Pave Hawks. They look like they’re in a hurry.”

Perry glanced out the side window and saw
four dark green helicopters flying in formation. He knew where they
were headed, and he was glad he wasn’t there to greet them.

“They use those babies for special operations
and crew recovery. They must be training or something.”

“Or something,” Perry agreed. “Or
something.”

Again Perry closed his eyes and wished for
sleep.

Anna was alone. She stood in the MICU room
where her husband had been for the last few days. Doctors, led by
Dr. Yukio Nishizaki, had entered and discussed what Nishizaki
wanted to do. Anna couldn’t keep the doctors straight or understand
the terms they used. She was, however, able to glean the gist of
it. Nishizaki was alone in his opinion that chemotherapy might save
Henry’s life. The other doctors tried to remain professional and
detached, but Anna could see the anger in their eyes.

“It’s contraindicated,” one doctor said.

“There is no precedent for such an approach,”
a woman physician opined.

“He’s much too weak for such a forceful
treatment.”

Nishizaki would not be put off. He argued
passionately for the treatment. Such procedures were not in his
specialty, and he needed help from other doctors and approval from
a committee. Henry hated committees. “Committees are the fastest
way to get nothing done,” he used to say. Anna was beginning to
understand the sentiment.