wanted to know… She was still there.
Unexpected swells of rolling waves suddenly carried Cooper and Jackson sideward. And the sound of roaring and chugging and racing engines and a glance to his left confirmed his fears. Old battered white skiffs. And in them, Somalian pirates. Heavily armed and sporting t-shirts bearing American logos and wearing Bedouin scarfs showing only their eyes.
They hadn’t seen him. Though he knew it was only a matter of time. His only chance, however slim, was to get to the stern box on the other side of the yacht which held his gun. In desperation, Cooper dived under the water, dragging an unconscious Jackson with him.
Under the surface the sounds were distorted. The vision blurred, made harder from the dark billowing clouds of Jackson’s blood. And Cooper counted down, calculating how long it’d be safe to keep an unconscious Jackson under water.
Four seconds.
Three.
Two.
Re-surfacing, and hoping he was near enough to the yacht, Cooper was met by an onslaught of bullets and a firing of guns and a fusion of sounds and a discord of chaos and Cooper’s breathing was hard and his chest was tight and his energy was slowly draining away.
Chopping waves and whirling blades hovering above sent a downdraft of stinging ocean spray. And to the soundtrack of machine guns and through a gusting wind, Cooper squinted up.
And there in the sun drenched sky, reflecting light like armored angels waging war with dragons, were two US Navy helicopters.
As the skiffs turned and retreated the aerial rescue basket was lowered into the water and Cooper kissed Jackson on the side of his head. He whispered, ‘It’s goin’ to be alright. You hear me, Jackson? It’s going to be alright.’
*
‘Lieutenant, we’re going to take you both back to the ship,’ the US navy officer shouted above the blare of the rotating blades as the air crewmen hoisted Jackson and Cooper into the Seahawk helicopter.
And with the helicopter beginning to rise and veer away from the yacht, Cooper shook his head. Gesturing desperately to the crewmen as he watched them tend to an unconscious Jackson.
‘Lower me back down… Now!’
‘Sorry sir, we have orders to get you straight back to the ship.’
Cooper’s voice was barely heard but he had no doubt his face conveyed the lost sound of anger. ‘I don’t give a damn about orders, Officer. Just lower me the hell down. There’s one other civilian still in the water.’
‘Sir, the other helicopter will have it covered. I’m sorry sir, there’s nothing I can do.’
*
‘Where’s Ellie? Answer me, Officer, when I’m talking to you.’
Struggling to hold down his sense of panic, Cooper stood on the landing pad of the USS Abraham Lincoln, as the air crewmen from the second Seahawk helicopter made their way from the chopper.
His panic. His fear. Emotions which held familiar echoes of his childhood. Feelings he’d refused to allow to penetrate as an adult began to engulf him. Overwhelm him.
‘You heard me, Daniels, where’s Ellie?’
The tall. Sinewy. Bald-headed seaman who Cooper could see was now regretting being first out of the helicopter, paled. Muttering the fewest of words.
‘I’m… I’m sorry, Lieutenant.’
The mix of bewilderment and shock and disbelief and confusion acted as a catalyst for Cooper’s anger. He lunged at the new recruit. Grabbed him by his oversized flight suit and shook the hell out of him.
‘What are you talking about? Answer the goddamn question!’
Daniels looked behind him, hoping his colleagues would come to help – not to his physical rescue, but to his verbal one. ‘I… I am, sir… I did.’
The pain of the migraine behind Cooper’s eyes began to blur his vision. The pain of it shooting down his nose. But he didn’t care. He didn’t give a damn. All he wanted was answers. ‘Then tell it to me again, Daniels. Tell me again… Where is Ellie?’
‘She’s gone. I’m sorry.’
Hysteria channelled Cooper’s words. He shook his head in disbelief. His voice a cocktail of laughter and pain and dread rose louder and louder. ‘Gone? Gone where, Officer? Where is it you think she’s gone? To the mall? To a baby shower? To a goddamn Yankees game?’
‘Sir, no sir. When I say gone, I mean missing, lost at sea… presumed… presumed dead… sir.’
Letting go, he pushed Daniels hard away. Knocked him to the floor. But Cooper’s rage engulfed him. Driving him on to crouch down to where the officer had fallen. Leaning over him and squeezing and pressing the officer’s throat. Feeling the man’s trachea moving about on his palm.
Daniels rasped.
‘I know what you mean officer, but you see, that’s not possible. Shall I tell you why it isn’t? Because she was there, you son of a bitch. I heard her… Do you understand what I’m saying? She was still there!’
‘That’s enough, Cooper.’
Captain Beau Neill stood slightly to the side of Cooper, kneading the base of his back with his knuckles as shock-waves of pain darted through his body. Sciatica. It was the damnedest of things. He’d experienced the battle of Huê, Vietnam, in the late February of ’68. Been on more tours of duty than he could easily recall without referring to naval records. Yet it was the sciatica which was beating him. Slowly. Painfully. Relentlessly. Forcing him to give up his career, which was tantamount to giving up life.
Through gritted teeth, Neill directed his conversation to Officer Daniels. ‘Go ahead, explain to Lieutenant Cooper what happened, he needs to hear it.’
Daniels stood up. Held his throat. Looked hesitant. Wasn’t able to hold eye contact, though he articulated the course of events confidently. ‘I was in the second helicopter sir, and once the lieutenant and the male civilian had been rescued safely, and due to civilian one being…’
Cooper snapped. ‘His name’s Jackson. Jackson Woods.’
‘Sir. Due to… due to Mr. Woods’s severe injury, Seahawk one headed back to the ship. Seahawk two’s main objective was then to pick up the second civilian… I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I don’t know her name.’
Staring at Daniels, Cooper’s eyes were void of emotion. Listlessly he uttered,
‘Just carry on.’
‘From the air we couldn’t see the second civilian, and as we were able to establish the present threat had left the area, as well as alerting the Kenyan coast guards, two divers began a search and rescue.’
Knowing the answer already but for due diligence, Captain Neill probed. ‘Were you one of the divers, Officer?’
‘No sir, I continued
