“We have to consider it.”
“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Reggie said with a look of stunned disbelief. “I just finished remodeling my house last month. Took me close to two years.”
Brad, who had been watching this exchange in confused silence, couldn’t take it any longer. “Not serious about what? Who are Crawford and Mader? What’s going on?”
“You don’t want to know,” Reggie said.
“Yes I do! What the hell does this have to do with Reggie’s house?”
“In about an hour,” Kai said, “Reggie’s house won’t be there anymore.”
SEVENTEEN
Since Renfro’s call with Kai, the Hawaii State Civil Defense staffer and his two colleagues on the holiday skeleton crew, Michelle Rankin and Ronald Deakins, had been on the phone nonstop. Renfro had the governor and the mayor of Honolulu on conference call. Both were on their way downtown to their offices.
“What’s your ETA, Governor?” Renfro said.
“I’ll be back at the Capitol in a few minutes. The holiday traffic was already bad, and more people are getting on the road every minute. My cabinet is spread out all over the city. We’ve been trying to get in touch with them since we left the hotel.”
“And you, Mayor?”
The smooth, patrician voice of Mayor Carl Rutledge came over the line. “I was over at Pearl, so it’s looking more like fifteen minutes if the traffic doesn’t get worse, even with the police escort.”
“Who’s in charge there?” the governor asked.
“Well, I am, Ma’am,” said Renfro. “Vice Director Dennis is on Kauai, and there’s no way he can get back in time.”
“Renfro, what are we looking at here?” the mayor asked. “Is this going to be another false alarm?”
“Sir, you know I can’t tell that for sure. What I do know is that we lost contact with Christmas Island, including the tide sensor, and the PTWC issued a tsunami warning.”
“Better safe than sorry, Carl,” Governor Kalama said.
“I suppose,” the mayor said, “but dammit, we’re already looking at a budget deficit. We can’t have this happen every year.”
“Sir, we should know more in a few minutes when the wave is supposed to reach Johnston Island.”
On the other side of the room, Rankin was talking to Pearl Harbor’s military liaison, an aide to the commander of U.S. Pacific Command. The leader of the USPACOM was responsible for all U.S. armed forces over half the world’s surface.
“Lieutenant, we do have procedures for this—” Rankin began.
“But the last drill was for a three-hour window. Now you’re telling me I have about an hour?”
“That’s right.”
“Ma’am, do you know what it takes for a Navy ship to set sail? It ain’t like hopping in your Sea Ray and shooting out of the marina.”
“How long would it take if you started right now?”
“Two hours, minimum. The engines aren’t even hot.”
“Look, I’m just telling you how much time you have. You can protest all you want: it’s not going to change. Plus, you need to get all of the aircraft out of the coastal air bases. We’re recommending moving them to Wheeler.”
“Well, you see, that’s another problem: most of our pilots are out on leave or at ceremonies away from the bases. We can try to get them back to base, but the way the traffic is moving, we’ll be lucky to get a quarter of them up in the air.”
Rankin scribbled a note about the military aircraft and handed it to Deakins, who had the responsibility for coordinating with the civilian airports and seaports. He was on the phone with the chief of operations at Honolulu International, which shared runways with Hickam Air Force Base.
“That’s right, sir,” Deakins said. “You’ve got about an hour before the wave arrives.”
“And the all-clear? When will that be?”
“I can’t say for sure.”
“Well, I can’t keep the planes circling forever.”
“Believe me, sir, we will let you know as soon as the danger has passed.”
“Flights are going to be backed up all day because of this, you know.”
“I realize that, sir.”
“Do we need to evacuate the terminals?”
“Not at this time. They’re far enough from shore to be out of immediate danger. We’re only concerned about the runways at this point. But we recommend that you take everyone off the planes just in case.”
“What a headache. You better hope you’re not making us do all this for nothing.”
“And you, sir, better hope we are.”
EIGHTEEN
Two minutes before the tsunami was expected to arrive at Johnston Island, Niles Aspen was on speaker phone in the ops center. He and Brent Featherstone, the other scientist staying behind, were both biologists from the University of London. Kai had wanted them on the line to describe the tsunami in case they lost the feed from the tide gauge, which was in real time. But Aspen had a surprising source of information for them.
“Dr. Tanaka, to help educate our students, we have equipped ourselves with a video camera linked to the satellite network to broadcast photos at sixty-second intervals. But we could change that to a real-time video broadcast.” He gave Reggie the web address of the video feed.
Reggie typed it in and they saw a jittery picture of the Johnston Island runway. The twin-engine supply plane carrying their five comrades was on its takeoff roll. In a few seconds it lifted into the air and circled the island to wait until it was clear to land again.
“Can we record what we’re seeing?” asked Kai.
In a flurry of mouse clicks too fast for Kai to follow, Reggie started a recording application. “This will let us analyze the data later,” he said.
Kai had already told Aspen about the loss of contact with Christmas Island. The British scientist seemed remarkably composed.
“Well,” came Aspen’s voice through the speaker, “we have Charlotte and the rest safely away. I have to say, Dr. Tanaka, this is all quite exciting for us. Just what we needed to liven up our normal routine.” A muffled voice came through behind Aspen’s. “And Brent reminds me that we even have a thermos of tea to help us weather the storm, as it were.”
“Believe me, Dr. Aspen,” Kai said, “I hope I’m wrong.”
“I don’t know what more we could do.”
“You’ll be our first confirmation as to whether we’re dealing with a true tsunami or not. You’re on a concrete structure, correct?”
