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"Already?"
"A lot of people have fled to Vancouver Island. We're picking them up through Alaska. Alaska is one of the few places with enough fuel for an unlimited number of round trips. It's close enough too, to get to the island and back without refueling. The problem is, we have to land on a highway. An earthquake has damaged the only large airport in the north of the island. Can you land a 747 on a highway?"
"On a highway?" I asked.
"Yes on a highway! They took the dividers off a four-lane highway."
"Have we lost any aircraft there?"
"Some. Eleven all told. That's not bad, considering the risks."
"That's terrible."
"Oh, if you want an easy mission, I can pass you through to the East Coast Operations Center. All our big aircraft will soon be withdrawn. They have plans in place to evacuate the entire northeastern United States all the way down to St. Louis. The fallout has already spread as far as Kansas City and is getting more radioactive the farther East it goes. In two days it will be over New York like the Mt. St. Helens ash-fall had years ago."
I could well imagine what this meant.
I assured the man that I would much rather service a highway outpost than fly into the big eastern cities in such a crisis. I told him I would call back as soon as we were ready to leave.
"Don't hurry too much!" he replied. "I have no plane to give you at the moment, but I'll put you on the 'Vancouver Island run.' I have a small 747 coming in after midnight that is suitable for the Alaska run. I have you logged in for around two-AM!"
I said that was great. I had only one more question after that, how to get to Honolulu from Maui at two in the morning.
"Take the shuttle!" he said. "There is an hourly shuttle between Honolulu and all the islands to distribute the refugees. Take the midnight shuttle!"
I thanked the man, put the receiver down and called to Jennie.
"They want us!" I called to her.
There was no answer. I knocked on the bathroom door. "Vancouver has already been shut down. Three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds shut the airport down. Most have already by evacuated to Vancouver Island by boat."
"Not the entire city! That can't be closed already. That's impossible! That can't be!" Her voice came through the closed door, strong at first but getting fainter.
"Well, Jennie, that's what the man said. Most of the people have fled to Vancouver Island. We are going to lift them out from there! Apparently they have converted a highway into some primitive airport."
"Why don't you come in, Paul?" she interrupted me. "It's no good talking through a closed door."
I didn't need to hear this invitation twice. She was sitting in the bathtub surrounded by a sea of foam, with only her head sticking out. What a peaceful sight!
"I feel terrible that I asked you to call," she said. "This mission is troubling you, isn't it?"
I nodded. "Maybe we shouldn't go. Its tempting to just stay put."
"But if Melanie or Frank were there, and the children, wouldn't we go?" she asked.
"Of course we would. We would do anything to get them out."
"That's why we must go, Paul. That's why we must help, whoever needs our help."
"But not on the East Coast, I made that clear to them!" I said strongly to Jennie, and then laughed at myself. When I became serious again, I told her about the fallout pattern and the evacuation plans that the dispatcher had talked about.
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Stories about
War
from novels by Rolf A. F. Witzsche
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