Impact | Book 6 | Dig

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Impact | Book 6 | Dig Page 20

by Isherwood, E. E.


  Ezra wondered what the RV was doing, but he was distracted by the second dump truck. It turned its mondo wheels to position itself more toward the left side of the road. Instead of following in the tracks of the first one, the second driver wanted to get in on the smashing action.

  “Aw, crap,” Grace said, seeing what was coming.

  The yellow giant’s tire lined up with the second row of seats in her truck, then it rolled forward, instantly crushing what was left of the Suburban. It was bad enough when the first tire went over, but the driver shifted again as if he was doing a slalom run across the rows of parked vehicles. His rear tire went over the engine bay of her Chevy, ensuring nothing was left but a flat heap of metal.

  While he commiserated with Grace’s loss, he needed to find a realistic way to stop the huge machines. They needed bigger vehicles to block them. They perhaps could find a way to shoot the engines from the front, or, God forbid, from underneath. There had to be a way.

  As the third industrial giant rolled up to the skid mark of a roadblock, he saw the black RV again. It couldn’t be a random occurrence, it had to be someone in charge.

  Grace began shooting her rifle at the lead truck, screaming and yelling as if it had personally attacked her. For a few seconds, he was interested to see if the bullets would sink into the tires, but the tall specialty radials seemed to absorb all her rounds, as they did for Butch and Haley. The rest of her shots zinged off metal or went into the pile of rocks sticking up from the Olympic-pool-sized dumper.

  He held her shoulder. “Grace, you can’t hurt them.”

  “Dad, we have to stop these trucks. We can’t let TKM get away with this.”

  Ezra looked around at Butch and Haley, then at Grace and Asher. He knew far in advance there was no point in assigning anyone to sit out what he was going to suggest, so it was better to tell them all at once.

  “Maybe we don’t need to take out the body of the snake. We only need to take out the head.”

  Grace looked at him with grim determination, as if the next words out of his mouth were going to make her year.

  He tried not to disappoint. While pointing to the black RV, he added, “And there it is.”

  Chapter 25

  The Rim, WY

  Grace watched one more behemoth drive by before joining her dad in a run across the highway in front of the last giant dump truck. It was clear there was no way to knock them out of commission with the tools they had with them, but her dad was right about the head of the snake. The fancy black RV was the exact mode of transport one of the upper guys at TKM would take to oversee the convoy. No one like Petteri or his rich friends would ever be caught dead driving a filthy dump truck.

  While they approached, the RV had begun to back away, its reverse warning chime beeping repeatedly.

  “Shoot the tires!” her dad yelled.

  She watched to see where the others were aiming, then she shot at the front tire with three quick bangs of the rifle.

  Butch and Haley shredded the tires in the back before it got too far away. For a brief time, it looked as if the recreational vehicle was going to make it to safety. However, the air ran out of the front tire she’d shot, and soon all the rubber kicked out from the back wheel well, leaving only a spinning metal hub. It immediately sank into the soft shoulder.

  The RV stopped, though the driver revved the engine several times to try to get them mobile again. The wide panoramic window in front made it humorous to watch the driver struggle in there. When her dad pointed his rifle at the man’s face, he sat back in his seat and put up his hands.

  “We’ve got them,” her dad said dryly.

  She stepped next to him. “Come out with your hands up!” Quieter, she leaned over to her dad. “I always wanted to say that.”

  “Don’t let your guard down,” he said seriously. “TKM is a company that has no honor.”

  Grace laughed. “You don’t have to tell me. They kidnapped Asher’s sister to get him to cooperate. I’m shocked they didn’t kidnap you, too.”

  “I don’t think they knew who I was. Plus, even if they were looking for me specifically, I’ve been on the move since…since your mother died.”

  They shared a quiet moment together, until the door of the RV popped open.

  “Slowly!” her dad yelled, scooting left to watch the person exit.

  She kept an eye on the rolling convoy. The five biggest trucks had already passed. The first one was completely through the roadblock and driving away. Behind those leaders, the other dump trucks approached the crushed steel roadblock with hesitation. Unlike those at the front, the regular earth-haulers didn’t have metal shields around the drivers. Much too late, she realized the whole roadblock-getting-crushed outcome had been unnecessary. They could have let the giants go by and then dealt with the smaller trucks on a more personal level.

  To test her theory, she walked out into the highway and held up her hand to stop the first normal-sized dump truck rolling up to her.

  It wasn’t even a contest. The driver saw her standing there, so he put on the brakes. She was going to walk around to talk to the man, but she caught sight of the person who’d come out of the RV.

  “Mr. Tikkanen?” she blurted.

  The middle-aged industrialist wore a gray business suit with a TKM navy-blue tie. His appearance made him seem as if he were on his way to work in New York City, rather than in vacation country in western Wyoming. Unlike her, he acted as if he’d expected her.

  “Ms. Anderson. And where is your friend, Mr. Creighton?”

  Asher had been standing near the rear of the RV. “I’m here.”

  “Ah, very good.” He dropped his chin and seemed to speak into his lapel. “That’s her.”

  It was an odd thing to say, and she had a few choice thoughts lined up for him as a reply, but she took notice of a red light reflecting off her shiny ranger badge. When she looked down, it was impossible to miss the thick red light glowing on her uniform shirt.

  Someone had her in their crosshairs.

  The Rim, WY

  Susan had been gifted with a little picture frame when Grace was born. It provided a nice way to celebrate the new arrival, but it came with words of wisdom, too. He couldn’t remember the exact words written on it, but it said something to the effect that their newborn made it so he and Susan would forever have their hearts walking around outside their bodies. As he watched the sniper’s laser dot dance over Grace’s badge, he sensed his worst nightmare coming to pass. His own heart was about to be shot dead.

  “Don’t shoot her!” he yelled. “We can negotiate!”

  For three or four seconds, the Earth ceased spinning. The trucks meant nothing. The ore meant nothing. Even the fate of cities didn’t merit his attention. He had to save his daughter. Petteri Tikkanen, asshole that he was, seemed to think on it.

  “I accept your terms,” the man said in an amused tone, as if he was having fun. “But no one is to move a muscle.” He looked over to Grace. “Except you. Please move out of the road, so my ore can get to where it needs to go.”

  She looked over to Ezra, and he motioned for her to do as asked. If he could get her out of the sniper’s field of view, which seemed to come from inside the black recreational vehicle, he’d be free to operate. There wasn’t anyone he wouldn’t murder in the RV if it would save his girl.

  Petteri stopped her when she was a few feet out of the lane. The driver waved down, then started moving to catch up to the five dump trucks leading the procession. After being crushed under twenty different tires, the park service trucks had been mushed into the earth. The road was almost smooth again, making it possible for the follow-on dump trucks to sail through.

  “What do you want?” he asked the businessman.

  Petteri shrugged. “What does anyone want? Three hot meals a day. A comfortable bed. Maybe world peace. I’ve got more refined tastes, however. I also require this ore.” He waved to the trucks rolling by.

  Grace looked at him for a
few seconds. She didn’t seem scared, which was good.

  “What will it take to get your red dot off my daughter?” he pressed.

  “Your daughter?” Petteri said with surprise. “Ah, yes. I was told you were coming. My sources say you’ve messed up quite a bit of my operation between here and Paducah, Kentucky.”

  Ezra forced a laugh. “My sources say your falling rocks have killed hundreds of thousands of people and leveled several midwestern cities.”

  “Touché,” Petteri replied, still not sounding concerned. “But there is only one thing that’s going to happen here. You’re going to move aside and stay there. Since you’ve ruined my comfortable ride, I’ll have to hitch transport with one of these.” He gestured to the dump trucks. “But I have a helicopter waiting for me in Jackson. When I get there, I’ll release your daughter to you again.”

  Ezra stepped forward. “Wait a damned minute. You’re not taking her anywhere.”

  Petteri’s face hardened. “I don’t know if you didn’t get the memo, but I’m Petteri Tikkanen. I can do whatever the hell I want in the interest of TKM. I’m only being nice to you because mass killing generates a lot of bad PR. I’d like to avoid such a setback, especially when I’m already winning.”

  “She is one thing you can’t have. I’ll go with you instead.”

  “Dad, no. You’re crazy,” Grace spoke from her assigned spot.

  Petteri snarked at him. “Yeah, Dad, that’s not gonna happen, but maybe I should take you both. Hell, maybe I should take you all. I could stack you in the back of one of these trucks. It isn’t far to Jackson. What do you say?”

  “No,” he replied. “My daughter isn’t going anywhere with you.”

  “You don’t think so, huh?” Petteri replied. “I guarantee I can make it happen. To prove my point, I’ll finally end the chase I started over a week ago.” He then leaned and spoke into his lapel. “Shoot the poodle-haired young man. Through the heart.”

  His eyes went to Grace. Her gaze went to Asher. The wild-haired kid still stood near the back of the RV, but smiled at his daughter with nothing but love in his eyes. It was as if he knew he was sacrificing himself for her.

  “No!” Ezra screamed.

  The Rim, WY

  Petteri knew he’d won the game. The civilians surrounding him had no idea of the resources and manpower he had at his disposal. If the sniper didn’t deter them, he could call in a helicopter with a chain gun. If that didn’t work, he could threaten to kill everyone they’d ever met. Money greased the skids, and he had more money than anyone in the solar system.

  After giving Aarons the order to shoot Asher, he’d expected an immediate result. It would be messy to see death in such close proximity, but he’d prepared himself for the eventuality. It would be worth a little blood to finally close the loop on Mr. Creighton. However, as the seconds went by, he became uncomfortable with the delay.

  He leaned to his lapel again. “I said shoot him. Shoot Asher Creighton. He’s that one.” Petteri pointed to Asher, on the remote chance Mr. Aarons was having trouble identifying someone with the “poodle-hair” description.

  Still the bullet didn’t come.

  Dorothy climbed down the steps, holding her hands in front of her. “I’m unarmed.”

  “What are you doing here? Please get back inside the truck. We’ll have new transport shortly.”

  Dorothy ignored him. Instead she walked over to Grace. “We meet again.”

  He tested his lapel microphone. “Aarons! Shoot the boy!”

  Craig Aarons came out of the RV without his weapon. “I’m not a murderer, sir. You said these were feral terrorists. All I see are kids, park rangers, and a few old guys. I won’t kill a kid for any amount of money.” The man looked around to the so-called terrorists. “I surrender to you.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” he said to his security chief. “We can’t—”

  Someone grabbed him from behind by throwing a huge meaty arm around his chest. He struggled for a few seconds before determining the man was built like an ox. Escape was impossible. He had to turn to other means.

  “Gentlemen, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. Each of these dump trucks is worth hundreds of millions of dollars. I wouldn’t look twice if a few of them went missing. Surely that’s worth it to let me go on my merry way?”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Dorothy droned. “He’ll only tell you lies to serve his sick empire.”

  He struggled to face her. “Dorothy, not you, too. Has everyone gone nuts? Did someone get to you? I can protect you from them, trust me!”

  She laughed. “No one got to me, you idiot. I got to you.”

  Petteri flinched. “What do you mean?”

  Dorothy had chosen to wear her old clothes on the trip to Canada. He thought nothing of it since they were on the road and out of sight. He assumed she’d given up her business suit to be comfortable on the long trip. Plus, if she wanted to dress like a hobo while dropping nukes on his lost rocks, he wasn’t going to be judgmental. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her slacks, then pressed a few buttons.

  His voice came out. As soon as it started, he knew where it was going. “We drugged him, dumped him in a local brothel, sprinkled in some young-looking women, and a few young men for good measure, then took a million pictures of him.” It was from his private conversation with Dorothy a short time ago.

  He laughed on the tape, then added, “We can do wonderful things with deepfake technology. That’s where you put the face of one person on the body of another. We filmed a fat man, a sort of body-double, savaging the poor losers in the whore house. Then we placed Stricker’s face on the grainy film, convincing him we had hours of him abusing the young, the old, the handicapped. Believe me, when we showed it to Stricker, it served as the proper warning. He said he’d kill his own family for us, if necessary, to avoid releasing them.” There was a pause in the tape. “We snooped around for his family ties a few weeks later, by the way, because it would have been another source of leverage. His wife and one daughter died before we got to him. The man had no family. He was being dramatic.”

  Dorothy turned the recording off. “I’ve uploaded this to a dozen websites. Don’t bother trying to have me offed. You’re done for.”

  Petteri couldn’t comprehend a word she’d said. The recording seemed to come down from outer space and land on his well-manicured lawn. He couldn’t reconcile the collision of the two worlds. When he was finally able to form a coherent thought, he went for the obvious. “Why in the hell are you telling all this to these terrorists? Don’t throw away all the money you’ve got coming to you. Not for someone like Stricker.” He spit as he said the name.

  “I assure you, you have no idea who the real Tanner Stricker is. Before he lost his wife and daughter, he was a loving father and a doting husband. Before he lost his wife and daughter, he enjoyed riding bikes, taking long walks, and staying in shape. Before he lost his wife and daughter, he would have done anything to protect them.”

  “But—” he tried to say.

  She straightened her back in defiance to him. “Your mishap with the asteroid gave me the opening I needed to see how you operate, learn your weakness, and then take you down.”

  He still had no idea what she was talking about. He’d seen her revulsion at the mere mention of Stricker’s name. His game of tempting Stricker with the young executive was designed to tease the man further. It also worked to see how far Dorothy was willing to go to become a part of his inner circle. He’d watched them both. The man wanted to see her as much as she wanted to avoid him. They couldn’t have planned it…

  “I don’t understand,” he admitted. “What’s going on here?”

  She mocked him in a whiny voice. “I don’t understand. I’m only the most powerful person in the universe. I control everything and everyone. Whatever do you mean, little woman who I’ve used to drop nukes on American cities…”

  He still couldn’t escape from the iron grasp of the
man holding him. “Now, wait a minute, my dear. You and I know that was done by Nerio Torres. I have video. Audio. It shows her betrayal.” As he said it, the tumbler clicked into place. “It was fake, wasn’t it?”

  She laughed. “Turnabout’s a bitch isn’t it? My gear isn’t as sophisticated as your deepfake software, but it didn’t have to be. You saw what you wanted to see. I just made a pretty screenshot to make you believe the space launch of your nuke-powered maintenance drones was really happening. There are no nukes coming down, by the way. There never were.”

  He jumped and shifted his weight, red-faced pissed off at what was happening to him. He threw a spittle-filled final question at her. “But you had everything. Billions! Why did you do all this for a sucker like Stricker?”

  She gave him a look of pity, slowly shaking her head. Dorothy glanced at the terrorists, speaking sarcastically. “Does anyone here not know who I am, after I just explained everything to him?”

  Grace Anderson slowly raised her hand. “You’re the daughter.”

  “Impossible!” he huffed, breathing rapidly. “I already told you, he had no family. We checked.”

  Dorothy rolled her eyes. “I’m his daughter all right. Not dead. My father had skills, too. He faked the death of Mom and me and backdated it a few years so you wouldn’t go snooping for us. As I said, you saw what you wanted to see. It’s one of your many character flaws.”

  He concentrated on his breathing. He’d lost his cool with her. That was the way to ruin.

  Dorothy wasn’t giving up. She got in his face. “You should know, I don’t take kindly to men who would willingly put a woman in the hands of sexual predators. Howard is the one who put me in the room with my dad. He didn’t know we were in there talking about how to coordinate your destruction. He didn’t know I was in there explaining how to slowly take away your giant rock collection. He didn’t know I was in there drawing up contracts which worked against you. All he thought was that I was in there being pawed at by a sicko, and he did nothing to help me.”

 

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