“We’re fucking wasting time!”
Cash heard Gunnerson’s voice booming out of the security station even before she arrived. Maximilian had called to tell her the drone pilots had arrived with their equipment, and they needed to be onboarded and briefed. Colcord had left Erebus at dawn, saying he was going to Eagle on some vague research task. She would be on her own that day.
Cash entered the security annex to see Gunnerson haranguing Maximilian, pounding a table with his fist. He spun around when she came in.
“There you are!” he cried. “Maximilian here tells me I need to coordinate with you. So—let’s coordinate!”
Cash took a deep breath. “Very well. Now”—she looked at the nervous drone team standing behind Gunnerson—“who’s the leader?”
A woman stepped forward. “I am.”
“Thank you. Have a seat and let’s go over the plan.”
“No time for sitting on our asses! Let’s get going!”
Cash turned to Gunnerson and said calmly, “I need to know how this is going to work, so”—she turned to the woman in charge—“your name?”
The head of the drone team was a collected individual with remarkable self-possession, dressed for the mountains, perhaps thirty years of age, with a thick french braid down her back. “Lisa Stein.”
“We’re wasting time,” said Gunnerson.
“You’re wasting time,” Cash said, turning her back on him. “Lisa, I’m Agent Frankie Cash, CBI. Please tell me how you propose using these drones.”
With a twisted expression of frustration on his face, Gunnerson fell silent.
“Mr. Gunnerson has hired us to search for his son. What we have here are six drones, each with thermal-imaging sensors. They can see through fog and smoke and are specially designed for search and rescue operations—identifying anomalous sources of heat. They’re most effective operating in colder temperatures, which usually means at night, but here in the mountains on a cool day, they also work in daylight. These are Matrice 300 drones, with a thirty-six-minute flight time, nine-mile range, and a maximum speed of fifty miles per hour. They each carry an infrared and 4k combined camera with 640-by-512 infrared resolution with a frame rate of 30 Hertz.”
Cash nodded as if she understood. At least Stein seemed to know what she was talking about.
“Are these the pilots?” Cash indicated the group waiting behind her, also dressed for the mountains.
“Yes. Each drone has its own pilot. All are FAA certified. Would you like to see their certificates?”
“Leave copies with security,” Cash said. This was all very intriguing. She wondered if the CBI shouldn’t get some of these drones. “And how do you propose to search?”
“We divide up the search area into grids, by section. Place a pilot and drone in each grid and fly a lawn mower pattern until the grid is complete, then move on to the next one.” She took out a large map from her briefcase and spread it out on a table. “Here’s Erebus Valley and the grids we’ve laid over it—one hundred and forty-four sections, or square miles. When each six-hundred-and-forty-acre section is covered, we proceed to the next section.”
“How long will it take to search the valley?”
“Very hard to say. And the problem is, the drones can’t see well in areas of heavy tree or vegetation cover, ravines, overhangs and caves, steep mountain slopes, rockfalls. Another difficulty is getting our pilots into the launching zones. Reaching many of these remote sections will involve a hike or helicopter transportation. We’re hoping to have use of a chopper and pilot to insert the drones and pilots into their LZs.”
Cash considered this. The drone idea was a good one—amazing that a jackass like Gunnerson could have come up with something useful.
“We’ll provide one of our helicopters,” said Maximilian.
“Very good. Thank you.”
“We can’t let you go out there without security,” said Cash. She didn’t express her conviction that the two missing hikers were dead and not giving out a heat signal, but the gang of killers might be visible. “Mr. Maximilian,” she said, “could you spare an armed security person to accompany each pilot? And a guide, if needed?”
“Absolutely.”
Cash turned to Stein. “Are you one of the pilots?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to go with you. I want to see how this works.”
Stein nodded. “Of course.”
“I’m coming too,” said Gunnerson.
Before she could protest, he went on, “I put this together, and no one’s gonna keep me back here while my son is out there. I want to be part of the search. I need to be part of the search.”
Cash gave this a think. He had taken on a pleading tone, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the old man. Better to have him with her than somewhere else, out of control and causing trouble.
“All right, Mr. Gunnerson, provided you follow my orders at all times.”
“Yes. Good. Thank you. Let’s get going.”