“Then don’t screw this up.”
“Wait, I think that’s them. Hold on.” The jail door opened, and Officer Ridley stepped out with his wife. Charles quickly glanced around, then walked toward his car.
“That’s him,” Davis said, slightly slumping down in his seat.
“We have eyes on him too,” Marsden said.
When Officer Ridley reached his car, he and his wife hugged and kissed. He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in; then he walked around to the other side of the vehicle.
Just then a white police van drove up behind the car and stopped, temporarily blocking Ridley’s car from view.
“I’ve lost visual,” Marsden said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Davis said. “He can’t pull out with that van behind him.”
As the van pulled ahead, Ridley’s reverse lights illuminated; then the car started to back out of the parking place.
“Okay, I’m on him,” Davis said.
That’s when the car exploded.
Almost every car alarm in the parking lot sounded off as the fire raged white-hot.
“What did you do?” Davis shouted at Marsden. “I said to give me a chance to arrest him.”
“We didn’t do that,” Marsden said.
“Well, we sure didn’t,” Davis said. “If you didn’t do it, who did?”
“Perhaps the resistance wanted them silenced.”
“I thought you said the resistance was destroyed.”
“Not everyone. Not the Electroclan.”
“They’re the parents of one of the Electroclan. The Electroclan aren’t going to kill their own parents. Holy crap, how much explosive did they use?”
Charles held his wife tightly as Gervaso pulled the police van out of the jail’s parking lot. She was crying, and all he could say was, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I had already deactivated the ankle tracking bracelet she wore with a massive pulse that shorted out the device.
“Mom,” Taylor said.
Mrs. Ridley turned back. “Taylor!”
They hugged over the seat. “You made it back. I was so worried,” Mrs. Ridley said.
“We’re together again. That’s what matters.”
“With a little luck we’ll keep it that way,” Gervaso said. “What’s going on back there, Ian?”
Ian grinned. “Shock and awe, baby. Shock and awe. The Elgen are sitting in their cars on the east side of the building. The chief just got out of his car to survey the damage, but it’s way too hot for him to get close.”
“What happens when they don’t find a body?” Mr. Ridley asked.
“They won’t expect to find a body,” Gervaso said. “We filled the car with two hundred pounds of rust thermite. It burns at four thousand degrees. That’s hot enough to melt the asphalt beneath it. By the time it stops burning, the car will be nothing but a puddle of molten metal. Everything else will be ashes.” He glanced at Mrs. Ridley in the rearview mirror. “It’s good to see you again, Julie.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Ridley said, still cuddled up in her husband’s arms. “I didn’t think you’d be able to save me—with all the police and all. . . .”
“Mom, you should have seen the Starxource plant in Taiwan. The jail’s security was like a day care compared to that.”
Mrs. Ridley laughed. “I’m just glad you made it back.”
“Where are we going now?” Mr. Ridley asked.
“We’re ditching the van,” Gervaso said. “It was caught on video surveillance. They may suspect it of being involved with the explosion and start looking for it.”
“Where do we do that?”
“Where we left the car this morning,” he said. “It’s at a warehouse in Nampa. We’ll exchange cars, then head south to our ranch. The sooner we get out of Idaho, the better. The Elgen are cautious. They won’t just automatically assume you were killed. If they don’t find your bodies, they’ll keep looking.”
* * *
There had been an accident on the freeway, so the drive to Nampa took about ten tense minutes longer than it should have. As we drove, Gervaso scanned the radio until he found a news station reporting the explosion. A spokesman for the Ada County Jail stated that they believed the explosion had been perpetrated by a local gang who had threatened retaliation after one of their gang members had been arrested last month.
“We’re doing everything in our power to bring the guilty parties to justice,” the spokesman said.
A reporter asked, “Was anyone hurt in the explosion?”
The spokesman hesitated. “We have no comment on that just yet.”
* * *
When we reached Nampa, Gervaso dialed a number on his cell phone, then spoke just two words, “We’re here.” We then drove slowly along a quarter-mile section of warehouses, mostly protected behind tall chain-link fences with razor wire on top. At one of the entrances a Hispanic man wearing a navy-blue mechanic’s jumpsuit pushed open a gate as we approached.
“Everything look good?” Gervaso asked Ian.
“No one here but the man,” he said. “He has a gun.”
“As he should,” Gervaso said.
Gervaso drove the van through the gate, and the man closed and chained it behind us. We then drove into an open warehouse, and a metal overhead door rolled down after us. After the door was shut, Gervaso turned off the van and said, “You can all get out.”
As we climbed out of the van, the Hispanic man walked in through a side door. He wore a large grin. “Hola, Gervaso.”
The two men hugged; then the man grabbed one end of the van’s police decal and pulled it off.
“It looks very much real,” he said. “I do good work.”
“Yes, you do good work,” Gervaso said. “Now destroy it.”
The man looked at us. “Would your friends like something to drink? I have a soda machine.” He pointed to an upright soft drink vending machine.
“Yes, please,” Taylor said.
“Help yourself. You do not need coins,” the man said. He walked to the side of the room and opened the front of a Coca-Cola machine. “Please, help yourself.”
Ian, Taylor, and I walked over to the machine. I grabbed a cold root beer.
“There’s no beer in that machine, is there?” Mr. Ridley asked.
“No, sir,” the man replied. “I’m sorry.”
“You want something, Gervaso?” I asked.
“Just some water.”
“There’s no water in here,” I said.
“The water is in the small refrigerator,” the man said. “On the ground.”
I pulled out a bottle and threw it to Gervaso. He caught it. “Gracias.”
“Señor Gervaso, I heard on the news that there was an explosion at the jail.”
“Yes, we heard that too,” he said.
The man nodded. “Very nice.”
“Did they say anything about the police van?” Gervaso asked.
“No. Not a word.”
“That’s good,” Gervaso said. “What did you get for us?”
“It’s over here.” The two of them walked over to a car covered with a canvas tarp. “If you’ll give me a hand, please.”
The men pulled the cover off, revealing a black Chevy Suburban with tinted windows. “This is what I have for you to drive. It is full of gas. The windows are bulletproof.”
“Perfect,” Gervaso said. “That will do nicely. Have you been paid?”
“Yes, they took care of me.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out some keys and handed them to Gervaso. “I think you need to leave quickly. It is always good to see you, Gervaso.”
“My pleasure,” Gervaso said. “Thank you for your help.”
“That would be my pleasure. What would you like me to do with the money after I sell the van?”
“Keep it,” Gervaso said. “But paint the van and hold off a couple months before you list it.”
“Muchas gracias,” he replied. “Muchas, muc
has gracias.” He looked at us. “Please, have more drinks on me.”
I took an extra bottle of root beer as the man walked over to the warehouse door.
“Let’s get back to the ranch,” Gervaso said. “Everyone, get in.”
I climbed into the very back of the car, while Taylor and her parents sat in the middle and Ian rode in front with Gervaso.
“I can keep you company back there,” Taylor said to me.
“No, you and your father have a lot to catch up on,” I said.
Gervaso thanked the man again, and we drove out of the small compound. As we pulled onto the freeway, Gervaso said, “Keep your eyes open for anything suspicious. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Look,” Taylor said. “You can still see the smoke.”
There was a thin gray column of smoke about ten miles from us.
“How long does thermite burn?” I asked.
“It burns quickly, but the heat will remain awhile. It will be an hour before they can really examine the wreckage. If there’s anything left of it.”
* * *
About two miles past the Utah-Idaho border, Gervaso’s phone rang. He picked it up.
“Yes, we have them both. We’re on our way back. We just crossed into Utah. Okay, we’ll talk tonight.”
He turned off the phone and set it back in his shirt pocket. After a moment he looked back. “They were preparing rooms,” he said to the Ridleys. “They were making sure we’d gotten out all right. And that we were bringing back a couple extra guests.”
“Thank you again,” Mrs. Ridley said.
“How far is it to the ranch?” Mr. Ridley asked.
“Other end of the state. So you have some time to relax.”
Mr. Ridley leaned back with his arm still around his wife. “We can’t ever go back,” he said softly. “Ever.” He breathed out heavily as he looked into his wife’s eyes. “In a blink of an eye my entire world has changed.”
Mrs. Ridley shook her head. “No, honey. Your world changed long before today. You just didn’t get the memo.”
Admiral-General Hatch stood at the front of the great meeting room in the Hatch Islands Starxource plant. Assembled around the long table were Quentin, the three remaining Elgen board members, and the eleven EGGs.
Hatch, who insisted on punctuality, had made them wait for more than an hour in silence to build their anticipation for what he had to say. As he walked into the room, flanked by two guards, everyone rose to their feet, snapping to attention. No one looked the admiral-general in the eye. To do so was to risk being singled out. Hatch walked to the front of the room and looked over his audience, then said, “Be seated.”
Everyone sat.
“The problem with history,” Hatch said softly, “is that it’s written by the victors. It’s a shame. Had Hitler won the war, as he nearly did, he’d be as beloved today as George Washington is in America. Or was. So there is a lesson for us in Hitler’s failure.” His gaze panned the room, stopping briefly on each member. Then he leaned forward and said only slightly above a whisper, “Don’t lose.”
A nervous laughter went up around the table. Hatch smiled. “Go ahead and laugh,” he said. “It’s funny.” Hatch was in a rare, jovial mood brought on by the success of their recent conquest. “So here we are,” Hatch said. “About to rewrite the Tuvaluan history. Now that we have a land base, we can move forward with greater efficiency.”
He pushed a button, and an image of the cluster of nine Tuvaluan islands appeared on a large screen behind him.
“The Hatch Islands are comprised of four reef islands and five atolls. Their current names are nothing more than worthless remnants of a dying language, meaningless and, as Quentin will attest, nearly unpronounceable.”
Quentin blushed. There was more laughter.
“Henceforth I will bestow upon each island a new name, one derived from Greek mythology, to match our purpose.
“Funafuti will remain the capital of the Hatch Islands and shall be named after Nike, the goddess of victory.
“Nanumea, our northernmost atoll, will be called Hephaestus, after the god of fire and blacksmiths. This is where we will manufacture the equipment for our Starxource plants.
“Niutao will be named Hades, after the god of the underworld, and so it will be considered by its non-Elgen inhabitants. It will be our prison and work camp and source of GPs.
“Nanumaga will henceforth be known as Demeter, after the goddess of agriculture. This is where we shall raise livestock and where the bulk of our agricultural production will take place.
“Nukufetau, the island closest to Nike, will be called Plutus, after the god of wealth. This is where we shall build our bullion and currency depository and, in the meantime, dock the Joule. This construction is of utmost importance, and I will address it shortly.
“Vaitupu will be called Ares, after the god of war. This is where our warships will dock and our forces will be trained. It is close to Plutus, so it will be easy to staff and guard the depository.
“Nui, the centermost atoll, will be named Athena, after the goddess of wisdom, war, and useful arts. It is where the Volta, our science ship, will be docked, and where we shall build our laboratories and, eventually, perfect the MEI.
“Nukulaelae will be called Dionysus, the god of wine. This is where we will grow our vineyards and build, for the Elgen elite, our luxury retreat. Only the most beautiful of the Tuvaluan natives will be stationed here to serve the Elgen.
“Niulakita, our southernmost island, will be called Poseidon, after the god of the sea. This is where we will establish our fishing port, providing food for the Elgen guards and our rats in the Starxource plant.”
Hatch turned back to his audience. “This, Elgen, represents our new temporary home. Effective immediately, these new names will be adopted by all Elgen and will be taught to the natives in the Hatch Islands schools. I have had maps printed to help you familiarize yourselves with these islands and their names.”
Hatch’s two guards began handing out maps to those at the table.
“Next, I present the architectural drawings of our bullion depository.” A picture of a massive ten-story stone-and-concrete structure appeared on the screen. It resembled the Fort Knox depository in America.
“The architects of this impressive structure have, of course, been imprisoned. And, as with the pharaohs of old, once our building is complete, they will be executed along with the inner workers of the facility, so that no one will ever know its secrets.
“This vault will be more secure than Fort Knox, and someday it will hold more gold than Fort Knox ever could. Needless to say, this building is of utmost importance, which is why we will break ground on it tomorrow. But there are priorities of equal importance.
“From the beginning, our goal has been to take over the world’s electric power supply. We’ve made tremendous progress. We are currently producing three billion kilowatt hours annually, providing thirteen percent of the electricity currently being created in the world. A lesser man might be pleased with this accomplishment. But, as you well know, I am not a lesser man. My objective is to be producing more than half the world’s electricity within thirty-six months.
“Unfortunately, we’ve hit a few snags. The attacks by the resistance and the Vey terrorists have slowed our progress some. I am pleased to announce that they will not be a thorn in our side any longer. The resistance has been annihilated.”
The group broke out in applause.
Hatch held up his hand and continued. “It is just a matter of time before we have captured and executed Vey and his terrorists, but in the meantime, without the help of the resistance, they are impotent. The boy doesn’t even have a driver’s license.”
Again there was laughter.
“But that does not mean that we don’t still have great obstacles to surmount. Our greatest challenge is the nature of global politics itself. The largest countries in the world, the U.S., Russia, China, and India, have continued to
keep us out. As shortsighted as the nations often are with their energy production, they are wise enough to realize that once we have complete control of their electrical power, we have control of them.
“For some time I have puzzled on how to overcome this challenge. I am pleased to announce that I have found a solution. We’ve been going about this all wrong. We have been relying on politicians, presidents, and prime ministers to invite us into their countries. Simply put, we’ve been talking to the wrong people. Big government is so inefficient and run by such myopic factions that any real company so run would soon go out of business. It is time we bypass the bureaucracy and go straight to the end consumers. Today I am pleased to present our newest initiative, the Nova Starxource Pod.”
Hatch pushed a button on his remote, and the screen displayed the picture of a sleek white structure about the size of a suburban garage. The corners were slightly rounded, and the top rose in a dome. The walls were bright white, with the appearance of plastic. On one side, fastened to the circular construction, was a large control panel with gauges, lights, and LED screens.
“Starting today, the construction of massive Starxource plants will no longer be our primary focus. Our new focus is the corporation, whom we will reach by building sleeker, miniature versions of our Starxource plants—power sources just large enough to power a large hotel or business, even a condominium complex.
“Initially, for those who opt in to our system, power will cost, on average, just twenty-nine percent of what they are currently paying. Once the unit is paid off, which will take the average business owner about three years, the price will drop to eleven percent.
“As we unveil our new system, we will launch a half-billion-dollar advertising campaign extolling its virtues. This is one such ad designed to play during the Super Bowl.” An advertisement began playing on the screen. A beautiful, intelligent-looking woman was sitting next to a replica of Thomas Edison’s original lightbulb.
In 1879, Thomas Alva Edison invented the electric lightbulb, bringing illumination to a dark world. Today, Elgen Incorporated presents the biggest breakthrough in electricity since the lightbulb: the Nova Starxource Pod. Propelled by organic fuel with zero emissions, the Nova Starxource Pod is capable of producing clean, electric energy at less than twenty percent of what you’re paying now. That’s an eighty percent savings and one hundred percent clean energy. So what are you waiting for? Save money, save the environment, save the world. Contact Elgen today for a free demonstration. Let’s keep America shining from sea to sea.