11
“Well, that’s a huge freaking relief.” Quint watched the pair of white-and-orange C-130J Super Hercules as they lifted into the heat-shimmered sky above Johnston Atoll. The first load, which included all the surviving passengers and wounded, were heading for the nearest land—Hawaii.
Dani had insisted on the brutal task of tending the wounded. She was now aloft as well—sticking at their sides until the end. Only he and Holly remained with the dead and the shattered airplane.
“Your captain is slick.”
“Dani’s the best. Taught me a hell of a lot about what it means to be a pilot.”
“That bit with the alcohol was priceless. Wish I had pictures of the passengers’ faces.”
They shared a laugh. “They were fit to crack the shits.” Quint had helped her pour all of the tiny airplane bottles of
