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“What the hell was he doing up there?” David asked, pointing at the sky. “Before he ended up down here.”
A few seconds later, as if in answer to his question, a video camera came bobbing along on the last of the lava and into the pond. At the same time, the helicopter from which the man had fallen landed between the crater lake and the containment pond.
“Probably doing his job,” Rebecca said, then added, “just like the rest of us.”
The large helicopter,BRETTwritten in huge letters across the side, was on the ground, close to the crater lake, a few hundred yards up the mountain.
J. P. Brett was the first one out of it; he ran toward what looked like a steep cliff overlooking the opposite side of the containment pond.
David and Rebecca slowly made their way in that direction. A second helicopter, this one a U.S. army helicopter, not as big as Brett’s but big enough, appeared out of the sky from the east.
It landed, and General Mark Rivers jumped out as soon as its side door opened; his boots sprayed dirt and rocks as he ran straight at Brett like one of Rebecca’s Houston Texans looking to make a tackle.
Mac was the next one out of the army copter, running right behind the general.
CHAPTER 72
By the time Rebecca and David reached the patch of the mountain between the helicopters, both rotors still, a small crowd of their passengers had formed: Brett, Rivers, Mac, the Cutlers, and two men Rebecca didn’t recognize who were speaking Italian.
The two pilots hung back near the copters, trying to stay out of the line of fire.
“Congratulations!” Rivers said, jabbing a finger into Brett’s chest.
“For what?” Brett said.
“We told you that you were going to get somebody killed, and you just did, you son of a bitch!” Rivers said.
Rebecca had never heard him raise his voice before.
“You arrogant, pigheaded son of a bitch,” Rivers said.
“Everything happened at once—the eruption and my helicopter having to make a sudden turn and then…” Brett shook his head as he looked down at Morgan’s lifeless body. “An avoidable tragedy? Yes. But still a tragedy.”
Jake Rogers was leaning against the side of the Airbus, and Rivers wheeled on him. “Was it your decision to fly that close tothe summit at a time like this?” Rivers asked. “And not clear it with the tower or with the goddamn army?”
Rogers said, “I just work here, General. By the time I got this baby under control, the only option I had was to make the sharp turn that I did and try to get out of Dodge.” He shrugged. “I thought the guy was strapped in.”
“Well, you were wrong about that, weren’t you, hotshot?” Rivers snapped. “All of you were wrong. This godforsaken volcano has already claimed its first victim, and it hasn’t even started trying to kill us all.”
Oliver Cutler was standing next to Brett. Rivers turned back to face them.
“Shame you two didn’t have a backup cameraman,” Rivers said. “Imagine the kick-ass pictures you would have had of the death dive.”
“Morgan knew the risks of coming here just like we all do,” Cutler said.
“You’re all a bunch of cowboys,” Rivers said. Before either Brett or Cutler could respond, Rivers added, “I hate fucking cowboys.”
He looked around and said, “Questions? Comments?”
Brett took a small step forward, as if he were afraid he might step on a land mine. “I have just one comment, General,” Brett said. “If you tell me to leave, I will.”
“No,” Rivers said. “You’re staying. I need you more than ever, Mr. Brett.”
CHAPTER 73
Outside of Hilo, Hawai‘i
Time to eruption: 24 hours
