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MacGregor kept staring at the image on the video screen. “Where’s this feed from?”

“Camera’s on the rim, pointing down.”

Mac could see the helicopter hovering right above the lava lake. The cameraman was clearly visible through an open door on the port side, camera on his shoulder. The idiot was leaning out, filming the lava.

It was like some daredevil movie scene, complete with special effects, Mac thought. Except what they were watching was real.

“They’re both crazy,” he said. “With all the thermals around there—”

“If that thing fountains, they’ll be fried pūpūs.”

“Get ’em the hell out of there,” MacGregor said. “Who’s on the radio?”

Across the room, Jenny put her hand over the phone and said, “Hilo is talking to them. They say they’re leaving now.”

“Yeah? Then why aren’t they moving?”

“They say they are, Mac. All I got.”

MacGregor said, “Do we know gas levels down in there?” Near the lava lake, there would be high concentrations of sulfur dioxide and carbon monoxide. MacGregor squinted at his monitor. “Can you see if the pilot’s got oxygen? ’Cause the cameraman sure doesn’t. Both these idiots could pass out if they stay there.”

“Or the engine could quit,” Kenny said. He shook his head. “Helicopter engines need air. And there’s not a lot of air down there.”

Jenny said, “They’re leaving now, Mac.”

As they watched, the helicopter began to rise. They saw the cameraman turn and raise an angry fist at Jake Rogers. Clearly he didn’t want to leave.

That meant Rogers’s passenger was even more reckless than he was.

“Go,” MacGregor said to the screen as if Jake Rogers could hear him. “You’ve been lucky, Jake. Just go.”

The helicopter rose faster. The cameraman slammed the door angrily. The helicopter began to turn as it reached the crater rim.

“Now we’ll see if they make it through the thermals,” MacGregor said.

Suddenly there was a bright flash of light, and the helicopter swung and seemed to flip onto its side. It spun laterally across the interior and slammed into the far wall of the crater, raising a tremendous cloud of ash that obscured their view.

In silence, they watched as the dust slowly cleared. They saw the helicopter on its side, about two hundred feet below the rim, resting precariously at the edge of a deep shelf below the crater wall, a rocky incline that sloped down to the lava lake.

“Somebody get on the radio,” Mac said, “and see if the dumb bastards are alive.”

Everyone in the room continued to stare at the monitors.

Nothing happened right away; it was as if time had somehow stopped moving when the helicopter did. Then, as they watched, a few small boulders beneath the helicopter began to trickle down. The boulders splashed into the lava lake and disappeared below the molten surface.

MacGregor said, in a voice no louder than a whisper, “It just keeps getting worse.”

More rocks clattered down the sloping crater wall, then more—larger rocks now—and then it became a landslide. The helicopter shifted and began to glide down with the rocks toward the hot lava.

They all watched in horror as the helicopter continued its downward slide. Dust and steam obscured their view for a moment, and when it blew away, they could see the helicopter lying on its side, rotor blades bent against the rock, skids facing outward, about fifty feet above the lava.

Kenny said, “That’s scree. I don’t know how long it’ll hold.”

MacGregor nodded. Most of the crater was composed of ejecta from the volcano, pumice-like rocks and pebbles that were crumbly and treacherous underfoot, ready to collapse at any moment. Sooner or later the helicopter would fall the rest of the way into the lava lake. Probably within minutes, and certainly within hours.

From across the room, Jenny said, “Mac? Hilo still has contact. They’re both alive. The cameraman’s hurt, but they’re alive.”

MacGregor shook his head. “And what exactly are we supposed to do about that?”

No one spoke, but they were all looking at him. He felt as if he were back at the press conference, about to step up to the microphone.

Kenny said, “It’s their own damn fault.”

“Not exactly breaking news,” MacGregor said, bending over to unlace his shoes.

Across the room, Jenny said, “No, it is not.”

“How much daylight do we have left?” MacGregor asked her.

“An hour and a half at most.”

“Not enough.”

“Mac, we can call another helicopter, they can drop a line, pull ’em out.”

Pia said, “It’d be suicide for somebody else to go in there, Mac.”

“Call Bill, tell him to start his engine,” Mac said. “Call Hilo, tell them to close the area to all other aircraft. Call Kona, tell ’em the same thing. Meantime I need a pack and a rig and somebody to stand safety. You decide who. I’m out of here in five, as soon as I get my boots back on.”

“Wait,” Pia said, incredulous. “Out of here in five to do what, exactly?”

“Pull the dumb bastards out,” MacGregor said.