Karyn Kane: Conspiracy of Fire Part 25

"Well, there will be certain deleterious effects naturally, but it's not all bad news."

"I am real pleased to hear that. Now explain to me just exactly what you mean by that, because I have had a real tiresome couple of days and if you don't lay out what is going on in simple terms, I am liable to blow a hole in your head just for the sheer h.e.l.l of it-know what I mean Einstein?"

Verner gave her a tight, superior look then said, "I calculate that there will be a substantial movement in the Hilina fault system, a correction caused by the back flow of superheated volcanic ga.s.ses. Naturally, such a movement will create a seismic event in excess of magnitude nine and the oceanic displacement will create a Megatsunami that will reach across the entire Pacific Rim.

Karyn held the gun steady.

Congo gave a chuckle, "That's right Kane, you have failed. There is going to be a big wave 1,000 feet high at least. There is nothing you can do to stop it."

"But people will be killed," said Karyn quietly. "Thousands of people. Are you insane?"

"Humanity is a disease that is destroying the planet," said Verner. "Deng Tao tells us that it is time for the new age of man and he is quite right. There are far too many people on the planet. What we need is a ma.s.s extinction, so the rest of us might be saved and move forward into a higher more forward thinking kind of society."

"But your parents, they live in Seattle, a tidal wave that big will wipe out every city on the western sea board."

"My parents are dead," said Verner, his voice matter-of-fact.

"Dead, how do you know?" asked Karyn.

"He killed them," said Congo impatiently.

Brad Verner shrugged. "I had to. They found out about my little weakness-they would have spoiled everything if I had let them, spread their malicious little stories."

Karyn frowned, "You killed your parents, you G.o.dd.a.m.n freak?"

"His pretty little girl friends too," said Congo with a chuckle. "Because what Brad here is trying to tell you is that he is a degenerate corpse- grinding necrophiliac, who can't get his jollies unless he is loving on the dear departed. Ain't that right Brad?"

Brad Verner looked sulky.

Ted Congo smirked and said, "And that is why Brad belongs to me, I am the new governor of these here Islands Kane, appointed by Deng Tao himself. Now, I know you've been playing coy about joining us thus far, but very soon your whole world is going to be redundant-the G20 leaders will be dead and every nation on the planet will be marching to the beat of the new world order. So what you say Kane? Why don't you lay down that gun of yours, because it won't do you no good anyway."

Suddenly everything made sense. Karyn narrowed her eyes and said, "So, tell me Congo, who was it who killed the Senator and Governor Geryon-you and the boy genius here?"

"Really? You haven't worked that out yet Kane? No wonder the CIA is a spent force these days."

"Ted and Deena did it, blurted Verner, they said I could have the girl if I helped them, I like it best when people watch... But there wasn't time. They said there would be, but there wasn't."

Ted Congo threw Verner a nasty look and said, "You want to watch that big flapping mouth of yours Brad. Talk like that could get you in a whole mess of trouble." Congo turned back to Karyn and gave her a look like he was going to justify Brad Verner's vile confessions. But he didn't get chance to speak because at that moment the floor started to rise up beneath them. The sound of tortured metal bending slowly out of shape filled the air. It was as though the entire building had been placed inside a giant industrial car crusher and now, subject to unimaginable pressures, was being slowly and viscerally compressed. The windows in the office shattered suddenly, but the buckling didn't stop. The floor bulged higher, until bolts began popping out of the steel sub frame like cannon sh.e.l.ls. Brad Verner dived beneath his desk and squawked, "It has begun! The new age is coming!"

Ted Congo didn't look happy, he held out his arms and tried to keep his balance, like he was riding a north sh.o.r.e wave. The light fittings began swinging wildly from side to side and a deep roar, like an approaching express train filled the air. "It is a G.o.dd.a.m.n earthquake is what it is," yelled Congo. "You didn't say nothing about no earthquake Brad, what the h.e.l.l is going on here?"

Brad Verner huddled underneath the desk and shouted, "Geostatistical prediction isn't an exact science Ted. I always told you that."

Karyn clutched the doorway. The initial shock wave subsided, but it was superseded by fresh temblors that came in rapid succession. When at last the shockwaves subsided, the control room was irreversibly twisted out of shape and the air hung heavy with the thick, choking stench of chemicals.

Brad Verner emerged hesitantly from beneath the desk. He ran to the smoldering control consol and let out a savage cry, "The pumps are offline-G.o.d alone knows how much damage there is. I will have to get a team down to level one immediately to a.s.sess the damage. He hesitated, turned slightly and saw the contempt on Congo's face.

"You messed up you little punk, didn't you?" "No-I created a major event as I predicted, just not the type of event I was hoping for." "An earthquake? Is that the best you can do? You said there was going to be a tsunami-a giant wall of water to devastate our enemies..." "My equipment is damaged Ted-without the relevant spatiotemporal data set it is impossible to determine the extent of our success.

We must be patient, a.s.sess the data as it comes in."

Brad Verner turned, looked at Karyn holding the gun and opened his mouth to say something- But Karyn interrupted "You don't have time-either of you." "Hey screw you Kane." Congo took a step forward then another. "Your whole organization is finished. Karyn saw him reaching out the gun before he even knew it himself. She shot him once right in the middle of his forehead. The bullet made a tiny pin-point entry, but took the back of his head clean off, splattering the cranial contents across the smoldering control panels.

Brad Verner grew pale. He backed away slowly and said, "You can't kill me Karyn, I know too much. We have other plans you know, other stations, today is only the beginning." He grabbed a loose-leaf binder and thrust it before him. "You see- It's all in here," he said triumphantly. Karyn looked at him. "Seeing as we are being honest Brad, maybe you could tell me

something?"

He looked about then, greedy and desperate, ready to say just about anything to get himself off the hook. He blinked and parted his wet little lips, "What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Your Mom and Pops, when you killed them, did you enjoy it?"

Peering at her over his thick-framed gla.s.ses his mouth drooped open, as words formulated on his tongue. But no words came, just the faintest hint of a smile.

Karyn nodded and said, "Yeah, that's what I figured." She shot him then, kept shooting until the magazine ran dry and the breech locked open.

63.

Los Angeles, California Reed pulled out of traffic on Ocean Avenue and parked the Range Rover on the sea front close to the Santa Monica pier. He had to roll around the lot twice, before he managed to get a parking place. According to the radio, the Pacific Coast Highway north of Colorado Avenue was closed for the duration of the President's meeting with the G20 leaders. Reed figured that the traffic situation would have normalized by the time Carly had played away her energy in the rolling surf. How long could it take to pretend to solve the world's problems, after all? He chuckled to himself. He had a delicious picnic lunch in the sunshine planned and those poor G20 saps would be chowing down on a menu of endless speeches.

As they hit the beach the palms on Ocean Front Walk drifted idly in the soft breeze. Reed carried a hessian shopping bag from Trader Joe's shopping mart that had some corny beach-b.u.m design on the side. He had brought a bunch of snacks, carrot sticks-olives and bologna sandwiches. He also had a cooler filled with drinks and water. Reed balanced the shopping basket with the cooler, and tried hard not to drop the sun parasol he had tucked under his arm. Carly skipped in front, humming tunelessly, with her boogie board balanced on top of her head to screen the sun. Julia brought up the rear. She was wearing a wide-brimmed floppy hat and big sungla.s.ses to accessorize her soft linen beach-clothes. As usual, she was chattering into her cell phone and making flamboyant swirling gestures with her free hand. Reed tried not to listen. Her business dealings gave him a headache. Every once in a while he would try and explain to Julia why it was important to be fully present during family outings and activities, but she just didn't get it. She pouted and told him he was bossy, then after a petulant silence, she would be back on her phone emailing and texting and outlining her instructions to underlings at the office. It hadn't always this way. The first few years they were married their relationship had been a two way street. Not now. Julia was distant, always preoccupied on that G.o.dd.a.m.n phone. Reed couldn't figure it out. Perhaps she was cheating on him with one of those smart-suited a.s.sholes at the office? Perhaps she needed something he wasn't giving her? He had tried everything he could think of to spice up their relationship-but nothing seemed to work. And yet, when he asked her if there was anything wrong, she always gave him that pretty little smile and said-Don't be so silly darling, come here and give me a kiss.

The sand on the beach was thick and hot, and so soft it closed over your feet when you walked across it. Reed breathed the sea air. It smelled of warm kelp and cotton candy. In the distance the Santa Monica pier stretched out into the ocean, like a barnacled building site, iced off with a jangling gaudiness of fun fair color. At the very end of the pier, the Pacific Park Ferris wheel turned lazily in the afternoon sun.

The beach was super busy-a whole army of lobster colored flesh basting in the summer heat. But Reed wasn't bothered. He knew they would find the perfect spot. They would just have to walk a little ways that was all. Carly knew the way to go. She turned south, heading towards Venice, winding her way happily around the encampments of beach towels and chattering sunbathers. When she found a s.p.a.ce, she skated down into the sun-bleached sand and spread out like a starfish.

Reed dropped the bags and popped open the sunshade. As he anch.o.r.ed it into the sand, he sensed Carly's warm amber eyes melting into him. He smiled and said, "Go on then." Carly gave a whoop and raced down to the ocean with her boogie board.

Julia drew up, still clutching her cell phone between her finely manicured fingers. She was tapping out a text message one handed. She looked at Reed over the top of her sungla.s.ses and said, "Don't you think we are a little far from civilization out here darling?"

Reed smoothed out the beach rug and stood up, "You want a Martini don't you?"

"Would you mind darling, the thought of walking over to the bar in this heat. Well, I really couldn't face it."

Reed nodded. He had a theory that the only reason that Julia came down the beach at all was that the bar in Casa Del Mar made the best d.a.m.n Martinis in the whole of LA. "Would you do me a favor honey? Keep a close eye on Carly. You know how in the moment she is, I don't want her getting s.n.a.t.c.hed away from the beach by a rip tide or..."

Julia rolled her eyes. "Stop over thinking things. She can swim can't she? The way you baby that kid anyone would think she was a kindergartener." As Julia spoke there was a heavy engined throb of a helicopter moving in from the South. Reed looked up instinctively, and saw an AH- 1 Cobra decked out in USMC gray. The first helicopter was followed closely by his wing-man, both of them flying low, no more than two hundred feet from the beach. Memories of Afghanistan came flooding back, the dry heat, and monotony, followed by sudden cruelty and endless tragedy. Reed watched the helicopters go, imagining how his comrades from the 75th Ranger Regiment would still be running patrol in Helmand province-while here he was, stuck in this domestic pretence, like there was no kind of war happening. He turned to Julia and said, "Just keep an eye on her alright?"

Julia gave him a sparkly-eyed b.u.t.ter wouldn't melt smile, the kind of look she could pull at a moments notice. "Don't worry about a thing darling." The words were so bright and plausible, Reed said nothing more, just turned and trailed back up the beach in the direction of Casa Del Mar. Julia watched him go, then when he had disappeared from view, she relaxed under the parasol, focused on her cell phone and began writing a text message. As she settled back, she was suddenly distracted, by an electronic trilling sound. Julia looked about her, thinking that one of her neighbors had neglected to answer their cell phone. But as she looked, she quickly realized that the sound was coming from the beach bag that Reed had packed. Julia drew a sharp breath of annoyance. That guy was so useless sometimes, always leaving his cell phone someplace-you could never get hold of him when you wanted to. She reached for the bag, but then, as she rooted inside, Julia quickly realized that the trilling noise was coming from Carly's iPad-probably one of her obnoxious little friends-thought Julia with a sniff. She reached out the tablet and a message window opened instantaneously.

Tsunami. Get off the beach now, read the message.

Julia pulled a face. Who knew they were at the beach? Probably some kind of childish joke. She didn't even bother to respond, she just switched off the iPad and thrust it back inside the beach bag. Then, she sank back on the rug, a gentle frown edging across her botoxed brow. She peered over her sungla.s.ses, looking out over the endless blue of the Pacific. She could hardly see the join between the ocean and the flawless summer sky. The weather couldn't be more perfect-the idea that such an idyll could be suddenly spoiled just didn't seem possible-such things never happened in Southern California, they only happened in those desperate little poor countries on the other side of the world, where vast tin-roofed shanty towns crawled over the coastal plains of vulnerable little islands. Julia shook her head in disbelief, what a cruel little prank. She had almost believed it for a second. She would have to have a word with Reed. Carly was obviously a.s.sociating with the wrong type of friends.

Julia's phone made a delightful little noise that indicated there was an incoming text. Still looking out at the endless blue, Julia raised her phone and glanced at the screen.

Get off the beach, or you are going to die- The Tsunami is coming now.

Julia frowned harder then typed quickly, This is not funny, your mean jokes are not

appreciated.

The reply came back quick.

This is not a joke, leave the beach now before the panic starts, move to high ground and stay there. Julia's head was spinning now. The authoritative tone of the message seemed to indicate that this was no child communicating with her, but why would an adult play such a cruel trick?

Julia wished that Reed would hurry back with her Martini, the stress was just too much.

Julia's phone trilled again. This time the message was emphatic, Leave the beach now, this is a level nine emergency.

What the h.e.l.l was a level nine emergency?

That sounded official, like some kind of government warning or something. But why was n.o.body else moving off the beach? Surely someone else had gotten this message too? Julia rose to her feet and looked around anxiously. Carly was down by the edge of the ocean, skating about in the surf on her boogie board and looking like she was having the greatest afternoon ever. Everything else was as it should be-swimmers, surfers, sailors and sunbathers, the beach scene couldn't be more normal or relaxed.

Shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun, Julia turned around to look for Reed and gave a little squeal. He was standing right behind her, holding two 12oz soda cups. He looked at her and said, "Are you okay honey?"

"No, I am not OK," snapped Julia. "Someone is playing a horrible trick and I don't appreciate it."

She paused for a moment, then said, "Do you have your cell phone on you?"

Reed shrugged, "No, I guess not. I must have left it in the truck again. Sorry honey. Are you out of charge or something?"

"No, I am not out of charge," said Julia, her voice tearful. "Some horrible spiteful person keeps texting me saying we are all going to die."

Reed stuck the cups in the sand and took Julia in his big sun-tanned arms. "Hey, relax. What do I keep telling you? You should leave that d.a.m.n phone at home, give yourself time to relax for a change."

"But, they were really mean Reed. They said there was going to be a tsunami. They said we were all going to die-there isn't going to be a tsunami, is there darling?"

Reed held her by the arms and looked at her. "A tsunami?" he said.

"Yes, they said it was a level nine emergency. What is that, some kind of test message from the County or something? Because those folks shouldn't be scaring people like that, they really shouldn't."

Reed s.n.a.t.c.hed up Julia's cell phone and scrolled through the messages. He turned to Julia, "You remember where the car is right?"

"Sure I do, but..."

"Don't argue with me, take your d.a.m.n stupid shoes off and run there as fast as you can, do you hear me?"

"Yes, but my Martini you just bought it, I am not going to leave it, that would be a waste."

Reed thrust the car keys into her hand. "Get the h.e.l.l out of here now."

She looked at him tearfully, still not quite understanding the implications of the things he was saying. But Reed was already off, running down the beach toward the ocean to get Carly. Julia watched him go for a moment then, she bent down and picked up her cup. Tsunami or no tsunami, there was no way she was going to let a good Martini go to waste. She sucked hard on the straw, letting a shot of ice-cold booze flood over her tongue. Then she threw the beach-b.u.m shopping bag over her shoulder and trotted up the beach.

64.

Honolulu International Airport, Hawaii Calista Johnston sat in her leather armchair peering with annoyance out the window of her Gulfstream G650 business jet. The jet was still on the ground, a situation that was inexcusable. Calista Johnston was not a woman who suffered fools gladly, nor did she appreciate delays of any kind to her schedule, especially today of all days. When the power plant went live. Deng Tao had been very clear as to the results-all low-lying land would be inundated, cleansed by a biblical flood so devastating that none of the costal cities of Hawaii would be spared. In a few short hours after the initial impact of the tsunami waves, the entire western seaboard of the continental United States would suffer a similar impact. A speedy departure from Honolulu International Airport was therefore imperative Gulping her Margarita greedily, to calm her building nerves, Calista Johnston peered through the tiny window, looking out across the tarmac towards the airport buildings. If the servants didn't get here and soon, she would have to leave without them, serve them right for their tardiness, she thought, the ungrateful wretches. The maids she would be able to replace, but then there was Hammond, her English butler, she had become rather fond him. Her personal chef Francois would be rather harder to replace however, She had stolen him from the famous Parisian Hotel, Le Bristol, in Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore. Francois was a Michelin-starred master of his art and his defection into personal service had caused much upset in the world of haute cuisine. Still, no one was irreplaceable. There were plenty more chefs in France, some of them might even know how to cook, she thought sniffily, but it really was too bad-she had rather liked Francois.

"Where the devil are they Enrique? You know I abhor delays of any kind."

Enrique shrugged, "Traffic maybe. You know how things get sometimes-"

"Well, they have no business getting caught in traffic, they should have set out earlier, as I directed. We should be on out way to Rio now, I have dinner plans with very important fiends this evening and this delay is threatening to ruin everything." Calista Johnston brightened momentarily, then said, "Be a dear Enrique and ring the limousine would you, if they are not here in the next few minutes we will simply have to leave without them.

Enrique gave her a dark look. He didn't like being given orders. He fingered the silk necktie that was hanging over his shoulders. He didn't like neckties either, but Calista had insisted he wear it, she had said that it was uncouth, whatever that meant, for a gentleman not to wear a tie. There was no point in ringing the Limo of course, the Limo was not coming-it never had been coming-he had seen to that. He had ensured very carefully that the days events would run very smoothly indeed. He pulled the tie from around his neck, and moved close to his employer. Winding the silk fabric tight around his hands he peered over her shoulder. "You see that," he said. "Maybe that's them?"

Calista Johnston peered forward once again, looking out the window, scrutinizing every inch of the runway ap.r.o.n for signs of a black limousine. Puzzled as to what Enrique had meant, she opened her lips to reprimand him for his stupidity, when a sudden tightness closed about her neck.

Instinctively she dropped her gla.s.s and her Margarita spilled out across the sharply pressed linen tablecloth. Her thin manicured hands rose shakily upwards and made contact with the cause of her distress-a tourniquet wound tight around her neck. Her eyes bulged wide with fear-her heart yammering wildly as a sudden dizzying tightness filled her head. She tried to call out for Enrique, but it was quite useless, all she could manage was a horrible strangled gasp.

Enrique leaned in and pulled the necktie tight around the old b.i.t.c.hes neck, twisting it tighter and tighter every time she spasmed and writhed. He pushed hard with his knee in between her shoulder blades to get more leverage. It wasn't the first-time he'd choked-out a woman and it certainly wouldn't be the last, he thought happily-but this was certainly the most satisfying. Three long years of servicing this wrinkled old pervert and her insatiable needs and now the final o.r.g.a.s.mic release was only seconds away. Enrique twisted the necktie tighter, pulling his face back, to avoid the old-b.i.t.c.hes flailing talons. He was excited now, thinking about how life would be when he moved back South. He would have a ranch, cars a plantation full of cocaina and whole harem of nubile young putas to do his bidding. The old woman's strangled thrashing was growing weaker now. He pulled the ligature hard in one final vindictive twist. Only seconds now-he could sense it, feel the adrenaline of arousal coursing through his loins. But, in one last violent spasm the old b.i.t.c.h reached up and raked the back of his hand, her manicured talons tearing deep into the flesh. Enrique cursed, and smashed her face hard against the window. The impact created an ugly blood stained smear. But for Calista Johnston it was the end, she sagged back lifelessly, with a horrible contorted expression twisting across her lifeless face.

He held the ligature tight for another minute but she was dead, no doubt about it. He eased back slowly and examined his handiwork. As he sucked away the blood from the wound on the back of his hand, Enrique felt a rush of pleasure and achievement. So many of the men he had known were dead or in prison, many more had thrown away their lives into servitude for a few miserable pesos, and here he was, a smart guy who had beaten the system, why the jet alone would earn him millions, his connections in the South would be eager to take it off his hands. Then of course there was his payment for killing the old b.i.t.c.h-such easy money, all he had to do was collect and he would be away into the new life he had always dreamed of.

Enrique reached out his cell phone from his jacket pocket and speed dialed a number. He sucked the back of his hand, as the ring-tone sounded. He waited for the pick up, when it didn't come right away, his brow furrowed and he cursed softly to himself. The back of his hand was starting to smart now and he was in no mood to wait around-there was a first cla.s.s flight to paradise waiting, all he had to do was close out one final piece of business and he would be away. Finally, the party at the other end picked up and Enrique said, "It is done. Where the h.e.l.l are you?"

"I am right here."