Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
KASAVOA – COMMAND OFFICE
The command room hummed with urgency. Radios crackled along the walls. Weather feeds updated every few seconds on the large projection screen mounted above the map table. Outside, rain still swept across the compound, though the winds had softened enough that the floodlights no longer shook.
Eira stood near the back of the room, arms folded tightly, watching the live tracking display. Small green markers moved slowly across the digital map between Kasavoa and Tevenne. The first evacuation boats. Every few seconds, one of the operators updated their position manually.
Boat 1 — outbound.
Boat 2 — outbound.
Boat 3 — launching.
The medical teams moved behind her, organizing incubators and neonatal carts for the incoming patients. For the moment, the room held together. Then, out of nowhere, something changed. Eira noticed it first. On the weather display, a cluster of numbers in the corner of the screen shifted color.
Green…yellow…red.
Her stomach tightened as she stepped closer to the screen. “What does that mean?” She turned. “Kieran.”
He was already looking at the screen. His jaw tightened slightly.
“What does it mean?”
Kieran swallowed. “The winds changed.”
Eira frowned. “What?”
Kieran pointed toward the radar feed. “The tail of the first storm…” he paused briefly, “…just turned into the second storm.”
The radar image shifted again. The weakening bands behind the first storm started curling inward. The system was tightening. Building.
Hunter leaned closer to the screen. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
The island patrol chief shook his head slowly. “It’s forming a secondary wall.”
The numbers on the screen climbed. Wind speed. Gust markers. Wave height projections. All rising.
Eira felt the room tilt slightly. “You’re saying it’s building again?”
The screen answered for them.
She looked back at Kieran. “You can’t leave them.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word. “You can’t just leave them out there.”
Kieran turned toward her. “We’re not leaving them.”
Eira shook her head. “But if the storm…”
“We still have time,” Kieran said, his voice steady.
But Eira saw it anyway. The small shift in his expression. The calculation behind his eyes. The storm projection on the wall. The distance between the boats and Tevenne. He believed what he said.
But his face carried the truth he didn’t say out loud. Time was running out.
KASAVOA HARBOR
The storm rolled lower over the harbor, clouds dragging across the ridge as rain fell in long gray sheets.
The winds weakened enough that the breakwater calmed slightly, but the swells still rolled through the entrance channel like slow breathing.
Floodlights lit the docks. Island patrol vehicles waited along the quay, engines running, their headlights cutting across the wet concrete.
In the command room above the harbor, radios crackled nonstop. A voice suddenly burst through one of them. “Kasavoa Harbor, this is Patrol Cutter 1 approaching with evac load.”
The chief of island patrol grabbed the mic. “Cutter 1, confirm number of patients.”
“Seventeen newborns, two critical, one operator.”
The chief looked at Kieran. “First two inflatables made it.” He keyed the radio again.
“Cutter 1, bring her to Dock 2. Medical teams standing by.”
“Copy Dock 2.”
Eira was already moving before anyone told her to. Through the wide command room windows, she saw the boat entering the harbor, its navigation lights cutting through the rain.
The cutter pushed through the breakwater and turned toward the dock. The engines dropped to idle as the crew guided the vessel carefully alongside. Lines flew. Dockhands grabbed them and secured the boat against the rubber fenders.
The gangway dropped. Medical teams rushed forward immediately.
“Move! Move!”
The first newborn bins came up from the deck. Wrapped bundles. Tiny faces barely visible beneath blankets and plastic covers.
“Careful!”
The harbor lights cut through the rain like pale spears.
Eira moved quickly down the steps from the command building toward the docks, boots splashing through shallow pools on the concrete.
Behind her, the radios in the command room still crackled with traffic from the boats running between Kasavoa and Tevenne.
She told Kieran she was going down to help the medical teams. No one argued.
The first patrol cutter was sliding alongside Dock 2 as she reached the pier. Engines rumbled low while the crew secured their lines.
“Easy—easy—hold her there!” The hull bumped softly against the fenders.
The gangway dropped, and medical teams surged forward. “Newborns coming up!”
One of the patrol officers climbed the ladder carrying a padded bin wrapped in blankets.
Another followed seconds later.
Eira stepped in beside the neonatal nurses immediately. “Careful with the hot packs,” she said. “Check circulation before moving them.”
The first carrier opened. A tiny cry cut through the wind.
“Alive,” the nurse said with relief.
One by one, the seventeen newborns came off the boat, wrapped in blankets. Their faces were pink but fragile.
Eira helped guide them into waiting neonatal transport cradles. Then she saw him. Davis stepped up from the deck, soaked to the skin, still squeezing the BVM attached to the mask over the tinier twin. The second twin lay bundled beside him in a padded carrier.
“Ventilator unit ready!” someone called.
Eira moved toward him. “Hold steady.”
Two neonatal nurses took position beside Davis, while another rolled the portable transport incubator into place. “On three.”
Carefully, they transferred the first twin inside. Davis never stopped the steady rhythm of breaths. The second twin followed moments later. The incubator doors closed.
“Go!” the nurse shouted. They pushed the unit toward the clinic building at a run.
Eira watched them disappear through the rain. Seventeen newborns. Alive.
Behind her, the patrol crew was already preparing the cutter for departure again. Fuel hoses connected. Lines were being reset.
The engine revved slightly as the pilot checked the throttle. Eira stepped toward the gangway. Davis told the captain, “I’m going back.”
The captain nodded. “We’re turning around as soon as we refuel.”
She stepped closer. “I’m coming with you.”
The captain didn’t speak, but Davis said, “No.”
She turned toward him. “I can help.”
He shook his head firmly. “You’ll compromise the mission.”
Eira blinked. “What?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If you go out there…” he pointed toward the black ocean beyond the harbor mouth, “…Ford will know.”
Eira didn’t answer.
“He’ll worry about you.” The rain ran down his face as he spoke. “And the second he starts worrying about you—” he tapped his temple, “—his attention splits.”
The words hit her hard.
“He can’t afford that right now.”
She looked toward the dark water, toward the invisible shape of Tevenne somewhere beyond the horizon. Every part of her wanted to be on that boat. To go. To help. But she knew Davis was right.
Ford would know. And he would worry. Which meant he wouldn’t be fully focused on the evacuation.
Eira closed her eyes briefly then looked back at Davis. “Fine.” The word came out tight. She grabbed his arm before he could turn away. “You better come back quickly.”
Davis gave a small nod. “That’s the plan.”
Behind him, the patrol crew disconnected the fuel line. The captain shouted from the helm, “Cast off!”
Lines dropped. The cutter pushed away from the dock and turned slowly toward the harbor entrance. Eira stood on the pier watching as the boat accelerated into the rain, back toward Tevenne.