“What are you doing?” he asked when he looked over his shoulder and saw that I was right behind him.
“I told you, I’m going with you.”
He stopped and confronted me. “And I told you, you’re not.”
“So it’s too dangerous for me, but not for you? Do I have to point out how ridiculous that is?”
“Olivia, I’m not doing this with you now. This is not a game, and I don’t have time. Cal tell her she can’t come!”
Cal eyed up both of us with a scowl on his face.
“Cal, please remind Noah we stand a better chance of saving the rig if we work together. I’m not playing the damn woman card here. I’m playing the damn engineer card. You need me out there with you because I’m the only one who knows as much about that rig as you do!”
“She’s right, Ark,” Cal said. “Olivia, same rule applies. No risks out there other than necessary ones.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Fine!” Noah barked at me. “It’s your life.”
“Yes, it is.”
I untied the boat as he hopped in to the start the engine. Then I hopped in and stood next to him as he piloted the boat to the rig. It wasn’t even a half mile out, but the freezing temperatures and ice made the water difficult to navigate.
“You are so damn stubborn!” Noah shouted while maneuvering around a large, floating chunk of ice.
“I’m stubborn? Hello, pot, it’s kettle calling.”
“Yeah well, if this rig blows and we both die, I’m going to track you down wherever we end up and kick your sweet ass.”
“It’s not going to blow. Remember.Lizziewouldn’t do that to you.”
He said nothing after that and I let him focus on piloting the boat. At some point I started to wonder if we would be able to reach the rig, the ice was so thick. But he kept pushing the throttle down and eventually the ice broke up and floated around us. There was a pole in the boat I used to try to push some of the bigger junks out of the way as we crawled our way to the rig.
Finally, we reached the dock that was connected to the rig. Ark powered down the engine, while I hopped out to secure the boat to the cleat.
“Are we going to be able to make it back to shore with that ice?” I asked when he joined me, checking the quality of my knot, of course.
“First problem, first.”
Right. The well. He climbed up the ladder leading to the first level of the rig. He moved fast, and I pushed myself to move even faster behind him. There was a warning alert that was blaring, but not the alarm that signaled fire. Together, we made our way to the main cabin that housed all the equipment to tell us the pressure levels of the wells.
It was eerie how empty the rig was. Usually the rig was loud and boisterous with drillers and workers all coordinating their efforts.
Offshore One was considered, by offshore rig standards, small. In fact, it was what made Noah’s design so unique within the industry. With directional drilling he was able to hit more wells with a smaller unit that cut costs of the rig significantly. Not to mention they could work it with smaller crews.
Currently, this rig had four wells that were producing at a fraction of the cost of our competitors.
Lizzie being one of them.
Once in the command center, Noah ran toward the main computer, bringing up the screen to see what Lizzie was currently doing.
“Check the PSI on the other wells,” he directed me. “There could have been some shifting of the tectonic plates that could have caused this. I need to know if anything else is spiking.”
I did as he asked and started tests on the other three wells. They looked perfectly within range.
“No issues on the other three,” I told him.
Then I joined him to look at Lizzie’s numbers. She wasn’t just in red, she was at the max level of red. The pipes wouldn’t continue to contain the oil at that level of PSI. That’s what had triggered the alarm.
