Marcus Cole slammed his palm against the cast-iron frame of the Koomey control manifold.
The bronze pointer shuddered past two thousand four hundred PSI, rattling against the glass.
“We are bleeding hydraulic charge at fifteen pounds every three seconds!” Mac shouted over the roaring churn of the Moon Pool.
“If that bank drops below two thousand, the shear rams will not have the punch to bite through twenty-four inches of seamless drill pipe!” Mac warned.
“How long until the nitrogen pre-charge is completely exhausted?” Julian Vance asked, leaning over the console.
“At this vent rate, we have less than four minutes of operating pressure remaining,” Mac answered grimly.
Rowed along the curved caisson wall stood sixteen scarlet steel accumulator bottles, charged with high-pressure nitrogen gas.
“The accumulator bank is the heart of the Blowout Preventer,” Mac muttered, his boots gripping the wet grating.
