There was an H shape forming the wings, and the cross section part of the body. She had two booms extending rearward, with the rudders stretched like shark fins. Between these two booms, the exhaust from the two body-mounted turbofans could provide the economical thrust to allow her to cruise at altitude for up to eighteen hours. Katherine always joked that while the plane could go for eighteen hours without a break, she could not. The rear wings were the widest at seventy-eight feet. The front wings a mere fifty-five feet, but they were thin, appearing fragile but the composite material giving them strength and low weight.
The porthole the sun was rudely invading was one of three spaced out across the rear compartment. The two larger portholes in the front allowed the pilot and co-pilot, when there was one, greater visibility even when landing. The body of the plane narrowed to the rear of the passenger compartment, containing the masses of complex and expensive survey equipment, linked to the scanners themselves, firmly strapped to the belly of the plane.
This was far more accommodating than the Apache gunships she had flown, and a damn sight cooler. Her reminiscing was interrupted by the base station calling in, ‘ROBBIE come in ROBBIE this is base, over’
She sighed, ‘How many times have I told you Laurent, you do not have to say over, this is not CB radio!’
‘What is CB radio?’
‘Never mind, what do you need?’
‘The area in grid four. Can you re-send the data, we lost power, and transmission was interrupted.’
‘Yeah no problem, give it ten minutes should be back up, anything else?’
‘Now is that anyway to speak to your fiancé?’
‘Sorry, just getting cranky, eight hours looking at screens will do that to you’
‘I thought you loved flying my sweet?’
‘I do ‘my sweet’ but this is not flying, it is more being chauffeured through the sky.’
‘Well almost done, just two more grids and I will make it up to you, promise’
That French accent melted her every time, though she rarely let him know it. ‘Okay what do I have to do for this make up favour?’
‘Well tell me why your call sign is ROBBIE?’
Laurent had asked her this before and her answer was always the same, ‘I have told you, my call sign was given during training, following an incident in a bar in town.’
‘Yes but never more info than that. Come on tell me while I wait for this data.’
Reluctant to recount the story, Katherine gave him the clean version, ‘Well, all call signs have two meanings, usually one is for the army and one for the parent and friends, so ROBBIE is after Robert T Bakker a noted paleontologist, because I was a geology major. Not many pilots with that qualification, as I did not want to work in army when I began university.’
‘What did you want to do?’
‘Be a geologist, or dig for dinosaurs, old boyfriend’
‘Hmm, go on, the other meaning?’ Laurent did not like to think any other man had been with her prior to him. ‘You are avoiding this, just come out with it, what does ROBBIE mean really?’
Katherine was genuinely about to answer when her sensors began to sound an alarm, ‘Christophe, I am going to have to get back to you.’
‘Do not avoid this, what is it for?’
‘No Christophe I have a problem here, talk later.’ with that Katherine cut transmission to avoid further questions. Sometimes Laurent could be a pain.
Katherine knew every anomaly always sounded an alarm to investigate and this was a magnetic anomaly, something quite large. She moved to the navigation screen saving the route so far, and instructing the plane to circle over the area of interest. The plane turned as soon as she had selected execute on the touch screen. Banked left, then leveled out 180 degrees from its previous heading.
She reduced height to get better readings and clarity from the sensors. As she began her second run she felt the plane shudder. Then the screens in the cockpit went blank. She instinctively grabbed the stick, but the fly-by-wire controls were dead. She had no power, no instruments. Then she felt the engines fail.
FOUR
Jacob Mathias sat exhausted in the arrival area of St Johns airport. His strong wide hands supported his head, pepper pot spiked hair pushed against his hard skin. He was debating the best course of action before taking the flight out to Greenland; he had twelve hours to kill, on his own.
He opened his wallet, glanced at the three photos of his family. His wife had died last year, his eldest son in the first Gulf War and his second son was god knows where. Temporarily lost in remembrance his phone vibrated in his pocket.
‘Hello?’
‘Morning Jacob, pissed off any politicians recently? Oh yes, I just saw it on Youtube!’
‘Morning Paul, you saw the press conference then?’
Paul Stone was one of Jacob’s oldest friends from the civilian world. A financial genius he had made billions, became bored with corporate life and decided to help save what was left of the world. All the work of Jacob’s group was financed by the independent and intense Paul Stone. His focus today was on a recent conference which Jacob had made his thoughts on certain policies blatantly clear.
‘Yeah nice one, somehow I think government contracts are going to dry up.’
‘Paul he had it coming.’
‘I know the history of your relationship Jacob, but next time be a little more private. To be honest he probably did deserve it.’
Jacob suppressed a chuckle, ‘What was your favourite comment?’
‘That he would have to deploy forces in sailing ships when the oil runs out.’ Paul was amused but still angry.
When the laughter had stopped, ‘What are your plans Jacob?’
‘A bath, and then catch up on mail, then early night, flight out to the Ice Maiden off Qaanaaq.’
‘Near Karnak, that’s Egypt.’
‘No Paul, Q a a n a a q, pronounced karnak, it is in Greenland, near Thule Air force base. Weather’s good, can fly into Thule, and then helicopter out to the ship.’
‘Well I will talk to you from Quarnak, later.’
Jacob laughed, Paul financed expeditions all over the world, but could not pronounce most of them, he always had to practice before presentations to get them right, always had.
Jacob put his phone away when it began annoyingly shaking again.
‘What now Paul?’
The female voice responded hesitantly, ‘No sir it is Marie I have a video message for you from Captain Skanks, marked urgent.’
‘Sorry Marie, send it through.’
He saw footage from a UAV circling an iceberg, and then a still image. His thoughts were echoed by the voice message from Skanks, ‘Yes Jacob you are looking at a ship, inside an iceberg. If you want a closer look call me, you know the number.’
Jacob curiosity was piqued and he dialled Skanks without hesitation. The message on the line said the phone was out of range, but it was a satellite phone, that was impossible. He hung up and called the ships base.
‘Hi Jacob Mathias for Captain Skanks. I can’t get through on his phone?’
‘Mr Mathias, Captain Skanks is missing, so is the Sea Eagle. We have coastguard out looking now.’
Twenty minutes later Jacob was heading for the airfield. He saw a familiar blonde haired tall man by the entrance of hanger 8.
‘I need to get out into the Atlantic to find a friend, when can you take off?’
The tall man turned around, staring straight at Jacob. His piecing blue eyes the only colour on his white haired face.
‘Nice greeting Jacob and I was going to offer you a drink when you arrived.’