Chapter 13 #2
The elevator doors parted in the subterranean garage. I walked swiftly to my car, the heels of my shoes echoing off the concrete.
I couldn't fix the past. I couldn't undo the isolation I had forced her to endure at that lighthouse. But as I threw the car into gear and tore out of the garage toward the northbound interstate, I knew exactly what I could do.
I could stop delegating my life.
I merged onto Interstate 5, pushing the engine of my car hard. The speedometer climbed, but the blur of the city passing by my windows barely registered. My mind was locked on the island. My mind was locked on the woman I had driven away.
I thought about the demand for a divorce she had delivered in my office.
Her voice had been terrifyingly calm, completely devoid of the warmth that used to define her.
She had looked at me as if I were a stranger, an adversary she simply needed to navigate around to secure her freedom.
The memory of that look felt like a physical blow to my ribs.
I deserved it. I had earned every ounce of her contempt.
I had convinced myself that my absence was a necessary sacrifice.
I told myself I was building a fortress of financial security that would keep her safe forever.
I believed that once the empire was secure, I could finally step back and be the husband she wanted.
I treated her patience as an infinite resource, assuming she would always be waiting at the finish line when I was done conquering the world.
Victoria Albright had merely exploited a weakness I had willingly created. Victoria hadn't destroyed my marriage; she had simply lit a match in a house I had already soaked in gasoline.
The traffic thinned as I headed further north.
The sky ahead was beginning to take on a strange, bruised hue, the sunlight filtered through the advancing haze of the wildfire.
The smell of smoke hadn't reached the mainland yet, but the visual confirmation of the destruction sent a fresh wave of panic through my system.
I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles stark white.
I could pick up a fire axe. I could swing the heavy steel blade into the dirt until my hands bled and my shoulders gave out. I could dig a fire line through the rocky shale and the dry brush. I could physically put my own body between the advancing flames and the only sanctuary my wife had left.
She might never love me again. She might never put that ring back on her finger. I had to accept the very real possibility that saving the lighthouse wouldn't save my marriage. But I was going to ensure she had a safe place to stand while she decided my fate.
I reached for the Bluetooth control on the dashboard and dialed Franken. The line connected instantly.
"Status," I demanded.
"The barge is secured in Anacortes," Franken reported, his voice tight with efficiency.
“Andrist is moving the rigs out of the facility now.
They have a police escort up the interstate to cut through the traffic.
We are loading three high-capacity water tankers, two command vehicles, and the thermal drone unit. "
"When do they cast off?"
"Two hours. The crossing will take another ninety minutes. We will be on the island by nightfall."
"Have the drone team launch the moment they hit the slip," I instructed, my eyes fixed on the horizon. "I want a real-time thermal map of the fire line before the trucks even roll off the ramp. We need to know exactly where the lines are breaking."
"Understood." Franken paused. "Reid, the local authorities have initiated a Level 2 evacuation for the western bluff. The roads are going to be chaotic. Getting the rigs through the civilian traffic is going to be difficult.”
"Coordinate with the county sheriff," I told him. "Tell them Mitchell Energy is bringing heavy suppression assets to help. Tell them to clear the lane. Do whatever it takes to get those trucks onsite.”
I disconnected the call and pressed the accelerator harder.
The drive to Anacortes normally took an hour and a half. I made it in far less time, leaving a trail of startled drivers in my wake. As I took the exit and navigated the winding road down toward the water, the reality of the situation finally hit me in full force.
The sky over the ferry terminal was an apocalyptic shade of orange. The winds pushed the fire in the opposite direction from the mainland, but the plume of smoke still obscured the sun.
I flashed my red card at the toll booth, telling the operator that I was driving over to assist the firefighting efforts.
I was prepared to pay the normal toll, but he waved me through, directing me to the front of the line.
I drove down the concrete slip and parked my car near the water's edge, stepping out into the heat.
I stood on the concrete, staring out at the channel separating me from the island.
I had spent my life building things. I built prototypes.
I built supply chains. I built a multi-billion-dollar corporation from the ground up.
I knew how to create structure out of chaos.
But standing on the edge of the water, watching the smoke swallow the sky, I realized that the only thing I truly cared about saving was currently in the path of the flames.
I pulled my suit jacket off and tossed it into the passenger seat of my car. I reached up and loosened my tie, pulling it over my head and throwing it in after the jacket. I unbuttoned the cuffs of my dress shirt and rolled the sleeves up past my elbows.
I was done being the CEO. I was done hiding behind my title and my wealth.
The ferry pulled into the slip. Cars and walk-on passengers disembarked the vessel, many of them evacuees from the fire.
I looked for Gwen in the exodus, but I neither saw her, nor her SUV.
She was likely still on the island. And knowing her, she would be lending a hand to anyone who needed it. But that kept her in the fire’s path.
I just had to hope I wasn't too late to save her and all that remained of what she cared about.