The Osprey was still resting on the mountain, its props turning. The two-man crew seemed transfixed by the sights below. Manuel tapped the pilot on the shoulder. “There’s a nuclear reactor south of here, Major, near San Clemente. For sure, it’s in some stage of meltdown right now. Pretty soon there will be something more than ocean breezes blowing up here. You probably ought to get us out of here. We may all be in danger of radiation poisoning.”

“Don’t you worry, my friend,” Paul Burns said. “You folks are Exhibit A for Washington. I don’t have any intention of letting anything happen to you!” He looked back one last time and yelled over the noise, “Okay, buckle up.” With that, he shoved the throttle forward, and the Osprey rose slowly and majestically above the sanctuary of Mount Wilson and headed back to the east. At two hundred feet above the top of the mountain, the engines of the hovering craft slowly rotated forward and were locked into position. In seconds the helicopter was once again an aircraft‚ and headed for safety. Major Burns pushed the craft up to thirteen thousand feet, then reached maximum cruise speed.

“Where are we headed?” Manuel asked.

“The airports in Nevada are pretty well torn up right now,” Burns said. “There’s a supply depot set up in the desert, and that’s our destination. They’ve had a huge shuttle operation going back and forth all night. It’s probably too little, too late, but the government is trying to get supplies in and people out wherever possible. We’re using C-130s and C-117s for civilian relief in northern California and Oregon. Those birds can land almost anywhere.”

“Where do we go from there?” Manuel asked again.

“Not sure,” Paul Burns replied. “But my guess is they’ll fly you on a Herc down to Albuquerque. That’s the major staging area. By the way, we brought along several box lunches and some bottled water. Thought you guys might be hungry. Back there in the ice chest. . . . Please, dig in!”

THE FLIGHT FROM MOUNT WILSON to Nevada was short but exhilarating. Manuel couldn’t help smiling at his sons’ excitement over their first plane ride—and in an Osprey, at that. He knew that the reality of their situation would hit them later. But for now, he was delighted they were still smiling. Food, safety, and the friendly crew cheered them all enormously. Manuel knew that for years he and Cathy would relive the terrible ordeal of the night before—the fire, the heat, the explosion—and the loss of their friends. Yet he also felt a sense of joy that they were still alive. And best of all, the five of them were together. No one had died. No one had surrendered to panic.