With the rotor still running, the medics rushed the chopper. They pulled the rescued men out one by one. As the last one was being placed onto the stretcher, he reached out for Nick’s arm.

“What about the captain?” he asked, straining to speak.

“What do you mean, the captain?” Nick replied.

“There were five of us onboard the Belle. The captain was swept from the raft.” The man’s grip on his arm loosened as he lost consciousness.

Nick looked at Gail, and she knew what he was going to say. She jumped on the mic. “Control, this is CG6055, were going out for another one.”

Nick nodded and pushed up the throttle.

“CG6055, the storm is getting worse. Are you sure you can do this?”

“Sir, there’s another man out there. The captain of the boat. We’re going to go get him.” Nick would never leave a man behind.

The Jayhawk was back in the thick of the storm, disappearing into the torrid sky. It didn’t take long before Nick was circling over the remnants of the Southern Belle. There wasn’t a sign of the captain anywhere.

Beep, beep, beep . . . Nick glanced over at the fuel gauge and it was now reading low.

“We have to go back, Armstrong,” Gail said with reluctance.

“I know, I know,” Nick responded as he fought to keep the aircraft upright. He didn’t want to leave, but he was left with no choice.

Just as he began his turn south, they were struck by a bolt of lightning. Nick grabbed the controls, and for a moment, he was fighting a lost battle. The aircraft drifted sideways into the oncoming swell of a giant wave. The sliding cargo door was jarred loose, swinging wildly open and closed.

“Hold on. We need to pull up, Gail,” Nick yelled as he put the throttle to max. The turbine engines screamed as the rotors lifted the heavy craft upward. It was too little, too late. Another larger wave crashed into the side of them, this time filling the back with freezing sea water. To make matters worse, the cargo door slammed shut and latched, locking in the heavy payload of water.

“She weighs too much,” Nick exclaimed as he strained to get the now-sluggish Jayhawk up.

Gail jumped on the radio. “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Orca, this is CG6055, we are going to ditch. I repeat, we are going to ditch!”

“Are you ready for this?” she asked as she handed Nick his survival pack.

“Nope.”

A large looming wave crashed down on the aircraft, slamming it into the water. The fuselage tumbled into the swell as it began to rise again. Both Nick and Gail were tossed inside the deathtrap. The crew in back must have lost their mics because they were radio silent.

With one final hit, the front window shattered, allowing bone-chilling sea water to flood inside. There was nothing more they could do. The orange and white aircraft slipped below the surface of the water. The faint glow of the red and green navigation lights became dimmer as it sank deeper into the sea.

“CG6055, this is Orca, come in.”

There was no response.