Crude

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Mickey decided to play it low-key but it was obvious to her Butch and Jocko had been planning something, before. Something slimy. She could only guess Jocko had claimed her as his own personal property– her body, his to trade or even sell to a buddy at the merest inclination. Maybe Jocko got off on that sort of thing. Mickey had heard some men liked the thought of their woman being forced to spread for a friend, or maybe even a complete stranger, as long as they got to watch, or join in...

Mickey struggled to keep the gloomy thoughts at arm’s length, at lease ‘til she knew more. “Hey guys,”she said, a little too brightly, stepping up to the console where the men were seated, “who’s for coffee and a sandwich?”

The men exchanged glances that revealed nothing sinister to Mickey’s cautious eye.

Jocko swiveled in his seat and took in the length of Babbs, checking out the front of her jumpsuit. Mickey felt disconnected again. Two women stood in the wheelhouse and Jocko had seen both of them naked– and f****d both her and Babbs to boot. That must give his ego a charge, Mickey thought.

“Hope there’s a roast beef in that cooler,”Jocko said. And Butch, hands still on the wheel, mumbled a vote of approval.

Babbs stepped forward. “Yeah, I got beef. You sure you don’t want egg salad and bean sprout? Better for your waistline.”

Butch turned in his seat and pulled a face.

Babbs smiled. “Guess not.”And she handed across a roast beef on rye. “Here’s a pack of mustard to go with it.”

Mickey set a cup of coffee on the console where Jocko could reach it. As she leaned forward she caught sight of a pinprick of red light. It flashed somewhere out above the horizon, burned brightly for a moment, then faded, leaving the image etched on her retinas. “What was that?”

“That, if the long range radar is to be trusted, is home for the next ten weeks.”

Mickey glanced into Jocko’s face. “The offshore rig?”

“Yeah. The cold front passed overhead sometime after midnight. The winds clocked and the direction of the waves changed, just enough so we weren’t fighting them. The sea state has been moderating ever since. Still no picnic out there but at least we are being pushed in the right direction.”

The light flashed again before being lost in the waves. “How far?”Mickey asked.

“About twenty miles,”was Jocko’s reply. “You can tell your girls we’ll arrive shortly after dawn. But warn them. We might not be able to dock with these seas running. Might have to stand off for two or three hours until things settle.”

Mickey straightened. “That’s still going to be good news.”

By now Babbs was also straining to see the strobe light, her nose to the glass. “You sure that’s the rig?”

Jocko bristled. “Of course it’s the fuckin’ rig. I know how to navigate.”

“Okay. So where’s the gas flare?”

Jocko’s head whipped around, his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness. Babbs was right. The combustion stack should have been pouring out a brilliant orange flame, burning the noxious gases forced up from the wellhead on the ocean’s floor. The blazing plume of fire and smoke should be shooting high into the night sky, lighting up the underside of the low scudding clouds. But there was nothing but darkness and gloom.

Jocko stared in disbelief. How could he have missed it? “The gas flare has been extinguished.”

“The storm blow it out?”Babbs offered.

“Not a chance,”Jocko countered. “Christ. The rig might be flooded with explosive gas. A friggin’ time bomb.”

“But wouldn’t all this wind just blow the gas away?”Mickey asked.

Jocko was still straining to see out the windscreen. He ran a hand along his jaw. “Christ, I don’t know. Maybe. Mickey, go back and wake up Lena. She’s the drilling tech. Hustle her ass up here to take a look. I’ve got some questions.”

“That doesn’t look right,”Lena Mills whispered to herself. She was leaning forward, elbows locked with her large hands spread wide on the console. “Might I suggest you don’t get too close.”Through the glass, the red strobe light mounted at the top of the oil derrick, high above the five-story superstructure, was steadier now and the underside of the clouds to the east were glowing with the first rays of dawn sunlight. “What’s the current distance off?”

Jocko checked the radar screen. “Eight miles. With this much wind, would the gases linger in the rig?”

Lena removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Honestly? You’re properly right. The combustion stack burn is about eighty percent WNG, unusable wet natural gas containing a variety of vaporized liquids. Natural gas is lighter than air and would simply blow away if the flame was extinguished. But what if the gas is leaking out somewhere between the wellhead and the drilling platform? Lighter than air, it would rise and possibly flood the compartment spaces of the rig. Step inside the john, light a cigarette. And boom!”

Jocko felt a tickle as a bead of sweat trailed down from the notch in his throat, seemingly headed toward the pack of Camels tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt.

“And then there will be a percentage of methane and propane gas,”Lena continued. “Propane is heavier than air. If the flame went out because of a gas leak, propane could linger in the rig for days.”

“Suggestions?”

“Wisest move would be to turn the boat around and head back to La Paz.”

Jocko thought of Mark DeVillier looking forward to his piece of crumpet. “Not an option,”he stated flatly.

Lena nodded. “Thought not. Let me grab a coffee and think a moment.”

“What’s the latest?”Mickey asked and poured Lena a steamy cup.

Lena slouched in a galley seat, pushed out long legs and crossed her ankles. She gratefully accepted her coffee. “Well there’s a risk. I know I won’t be able to talk Jocko into turning this tub around but hopefully I’ll talk him into taking minimal chances with our lives.”

Mickey slipped into the seat next to Lena, worry suddenly crowding into her eyes. “Our lives...”

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”Lena touched Mickey’s sleeve. “Look, the risk is minimal. The oil rig is closed up so any gas escaping the wellhead should stay on the outside and be dispersed by the wind. Under those circumstances we’ll be fine. But if, for whatever reason, gas has seeped into the living quarters, a spark could blow the structure into oblivion. It’s hard for me to imagine, with the rig shut down, a situation where that might occur but stranger things have happened. Anyway that’s the long and short of it.”

“So where do we go from here?”

“Like I said, we convince Jocko to take things slow and easy. After we tie up alongside the staging, we break out the gas detection gear and go through the rig, compartment by compartment. If there’s explosive gas present the sniffers will sound off like a pack of hounds on the scent of a fox. Once the all clear is established we can figure out what the hell’s wrong with the combustion stack, fix it and re-ignite the burn.”

“So everything will be fine, as long as we don’t blow ourselves up?”

Lena took a long drag from her coffee cup. “Yeah...”

Mickey noticed the ring on Lena’s left hand. “Want a sandwich.”

“Thanks, but no. My stomach isn’t quite up for it yet. Isn’t this the grandest way to lose weight?”

Mickey took a moment to study Lena’s frame and decided the woman didn’t need to lose weight. Of all the older women in the crew, Lena was one of the prettiest– slim and quite tall with short cropped black hair. Maybe a little too short: a British schoolboy cut, parted on the left and clipped tight over the ears and shaved around the back. But the styling emphasized Lena’s thinly arched brows and high, prominent cheek bones.

It was an unique look and one which well suited her. With those fashionable features, Lena would make an attractive target on an offshore oil drilling platform. Even sporting her wedding band wouldn’t stave off the advances of a bunch of horny wildcatters. Mickey couldn’t help herself. She thought of Jocko and an image of him and Lena hardened in her mind– Jocko wheedling his way between Lena’s long skinny thighs. Stop it, she scolded herself.

“What...”

“Sorry?”

Lena smiled. “You were staring.”And then she laughed. “You gave me a quiver– a lesbian moment. You’re not, are you?”

“I didn’t know anyone else had those kinda moments.”

Lena laughed again but didn’t elaborate. “You better give me a shot of rum so if things get silly, I’ll have an excuse.”