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--
He was soaking wet by the time he reached the Coast Guard hangar bay. He was right in the fact that the storm was going to get worse. He had run the whole way to the Coast Guard hanger and on more than one occasion had to take cover from a tree branch or piece of debris, flying through the air like a bullet from a gun.
The Coast Guard hangar was pandemonium when he entered it. Dozens of Coast Guards streamed across the open space, yelling orders to one another as the three choppers inside the bay prepared to take off. Clint, spotting Brian by the nearest chopper, ran up to him without hesitation.
"Brain! Brian!" He yelled as he approached him. Brian was halfway in the chopper when Clint grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "Wait. I need to ask you --"
"No go, Clint, sorry." Brian yelled back over the churning noise of the chopper. "We gotta go here!"
"One second! You owe me that!" He held onto Brian, forcing him to look him in the eyes. He didn't blame Brian for what had happened, but Brian didn't need to know that. Not now. And sure enough, Clint saw the guilt in his eyes. He nodded once. "I just need you to check on the ferry that left here at 1500 hours. The one heading for San Diego."
"How did you know that?" Brian yelled back.
"How did I – what do you mean? Know what?" Clint shouted. The other two choppers where just starting to lift in the air. Their noise combined was deafening.
"That's where we're heading right now! The ferry got hit pretty bad by some king waves! Fourteen stranded!"
Clint felt the color drain from his face as the reality of the words hit him. And as they sunk in, he suddenly noticed how empty the chopper was. In fact Brian was the only diver on board.
"Hold up! Where's the rest of you?"
"This is it! Those other choppers have other boats they going for!" He yelled, before turning back to face the pilot. "Come on, we gotta go – hold up! What are you doing!"
Clint had begun to climb inside the chopper, only pulling up when Brian stuck his hand out to stop him. "I'm coming to help!" There was no way he wasn't going. Not while Olivier was in trouble. Not when there was only one diver for fourteen people.
"There's no way --"
"Outta my way Brian. I'm getting on this chopper." He didn't yell this time. He didn't need to. His voice was firm and strong like iron. There was no debate about it, not trepidation. What was said was meant.
Brian hesitated before finally nodding and moving his arm to let Clint onboard. Clint, about to hop up, was again pulled up. This time by a hand grabbing at his shoulder from behind.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" It was Randall. He had come from nowhere, but now had his hand gripped firmly on Clint's shoulder. He looked beyond furious at what he was seeing "I'll have you for this!"
"Then have me. But I'm on this chopper!" Clint yelled, shrugging Randall off his shoulder.
"You definitely are not --"
Clint's fist connected with Randall's jaw, sending the Lieutenant to the ground in a heap. He had never felt such hate
towards someone than he did in that moment. He didn't care that he was going to get kicked out of the army for it either. That eventuality didn't even register as a concern. All he cared about was getting on that chopper, no matter what.
Brian stared dumbstruck at his commanding officer, curled up on the ground, out cold. But only for a second. He then shrugged his shoulders and stepped aside to let Clint onboard. Clint nodded his head in confirmation, climbing on.
--
It was as if the ocean had come to life. As if it had turned into some sort of gigantic, sentient creature that was raging within itself. Waves over fifty feet high rose into the air, before crashing down and pummeling the ocean surface. The effect of this crash was another gigantuous wave, slapping against the wind and rain.
As the chopper flew over the storming ocean, lightning shot down around them, like bolts sent from the heavens. They seemed to reach the sea bed itself, lighting up the waves as they peaked and crashed.
"Where is it?" Clint yelled out to Brian. "How far?!" They had been flying for less than five minutes, but to Clint it felt like hours. He knew that every second countered. One lost could mean the difference between life and death.
"Around here somewhere!" He yelled back. "Keep your eyes – there! I see it!" Clint followed his pointed finger, spotting the marooned ferry a second later. "Take it in!" Brian yelled to the pilot.
The chopper dropped its altitude, flying in over the ferry so that it hovered maybe twenty feet above it.
Somehow the ferry had capsized. It’s entire hull stuck out of the water as bodies populated the water around it. Even in the chaotic thrashing of the storm, the bodies had managed to group themselves together for the most part. They all clung together as one, hanging in for dear life.
Clint scanned the bodies, trying to see if he could spot Olivier. It was hard, with the waves continually crashing down on their heads, but even so, he was sure that she wasn't amongst them.
