Chapter 291: Chapter 291: I’ll Come Get You Myself, How’s That?
Claire Sinclair could only nod in agreement, finally replying, "Teacher Hartwell, get back soon!"
As if those had been his last words, Henry Hartwell passed out again before he could respond to Claire Sinclair and was finally loaded onto the rescue helicopter.
Claire Sinclair watched the helicopter fly into the distance until it was just a tiny black dot before finally looking away.
’Teacher Hartwell was right. Once the floodwaters recede, public attention on the disaster will fade. The reconstruction will require funding, and we can’t just rely on government appropriations. We’ll need help from more charitable people! That’s why I have to get this feature story published as soon as possible!’
With this in mind, Claire Sinclair immediately ran to Henry Hartwell’s tent, packed up his belongings, and headed for the ferry crossing, hoping to take a lifeboat to the opposite mountain.
The crossing was guarded. Seeing Claire Sinclair with her luggage, a guard assumed she couldn’t handle the conditions anymore and was trying to leave. "Reporter Sinclair," he said, "I’m sorry, but the dam release is about to begin. No one is allowed to leave the mountain."
"It’s finally starting?" Claire Sinclair asked urgently.
The man nodded.
"I’m not trying to leave. I want to go to the opposite mountain to find my husband."
"That’s not allowed either. Young Master Quincy has given orders that no one is to cross over."
"Then can you contact Mr. Quincy for me? Just tell him I’d like to see him."
The man looked troubled. "Reporter Sinclair, Young Master Quincy is very busy. I’m afraid he won’t have time to see you."
"Then tell me, how can I see him?"
The man shook his head, his gesture making it clear that it was impossible.
Ever since the Astoria Daily published Young Master Quincy’s photo, countless women had tried to get close to him, which undoubtedly posed a threat to his personal safety.
Besides, this was Claire Sinclair—the very person who had released his photo to begin with.
’It looks like I won’t be able to get to his side without revealing who I am...’
Claire Sinclair let out a long sigh and said in a low voice, "Alright, I won’t ask to see Mr. Quincy anymore. But I still need you to help me contact Adjutant Hawkins. I have something extremely urgent to discuss with him."
"What do you need Adjutant Hawkins for?"
"It’s extremely urgent. I have to contact him right away."
The man hesitated for a moment. He recalled how, over the past few days on the mountain, Claire Sinclair’s resilience had been on par with any of the men, and he had developed a favorable impression of her. "Alright," he said. "Follow me."
The man led Claire Sinclair into a tent where there was a landline phone.
Someone dialed a number for the camp on the opposite mountain and handed the receiver to Claire Sinclair.
Claire Sinclair immediately spoke into the phone, "Aiden Howkins, I’m on Mount Goldspring. I want to see Mr. Quincy."
Aiden Howkins’s cheerful voice came through the line. "Young Madam, you want to see Young Master Quincy?"
"Can’t I?"
"It’s not that you can’t. Young Master Quincy is just very busy. I’m afraid you might come over and still not be able to see him."
"I won’t bother him. I just want to borrow your internet connection for a bit. I need to send out the feature story Teacher Hartwell prepared so that the outside world can understand the situation in Garlan Town."
"Oh, in that case, come on over."
Claire Sinclair’s eyes darted slyly. She put on a deliberately troubled expression and said, "I want to, but they won’t let me. What should I do?"
"Please, Young Madam, stop with the helpless act, or we’ll all face the consequences."
"Then how am I supposed to get over there?"
"Fine. I’ll come get you myself. How’s that?"
"Deal..."
The call ended.
Twenty minutes later, Aiden Howkins arrived, personally piloting a lifeboat.
The moment the guard saw Aiden Howkins, his face filled with surprise. "Adjutant Hawkins, what brings you here?"
Aiden Howkins jutted his chin toward a pitiful-looking Claire Sinclair. "Here on orders to retrieve the Young Madam."
