Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 01 - Flapjack

by Daniel Ganninger

  “We know who you are”, it read, “and you’re bad, bad boys”. The men stared at the screen in complete shock and surprise. The words disappeared, and in its place a large picture of a hand appeared with the middle finger extended in the universal sign of goodwill.

  Before the men could even react to the events, there was a sizzling sound and the monitors went black again. A crack of sound exploded in the room and electrical energy was sent rushing through all the equipment, followed by tiny electrical sparks of flashing light. The laptop sizzled under the new electrical load. The electronics expert tried to react by pulling the plug on the laptop, but it was already too late, it had been fried by an intense electrical surge, melting the circuit board. Then almost simultaneously there was a whirling sound which came from the ceiling. The men looked up to find the sound, but couldn’t localize it. All of a sudden there was a tremendous pop and a purple liquid exploded in the room, covering everything, including the men who stood shocked at the sight of the fluid coming from the ceiling. Smoke trails began to fill the room from the explosion, and the purple liquid began to find its way into every nook and cranny of the men and their equipment, coating them in a magnificent, deep, dark purple. As they tried to remove the liquid from their faces and realize what had happened, another alarm sounded, even louder than the first.

  “What the,” was all the leader could muster before being drowned out by the screaming alarm. “Everybody out!” He yelled.

  The electronics expert grabbed the useless laptop and slipped his way out of the room, following the other men. They raced to the front door and met the guards half way, who had heard the blare of noise. The guards stared in disbelief as the purple people looking like some sort of mythical monster, headed toward them. The purple men pushed past them and out the front door, conveniently leaving colored footprints.

  “What the hell happened?” One of the unaffected members exclaimed.

  “Shut up and get in the truck,” the leader said forcefully, attempting to wipe the liquid from his hands and face. The place was covered in the now familiar liquid, staining everything in its path.

  Alex had acquired the proprietary liquid months before as part of his own personal security system. It was the same dye banks used in many money bundles that were being stored or transported. It was designed to explode if anyone tried to steal the money, turning it all into useless currency, and in turn making the thief an easy target for the police. In this case it had stained the intruders and dyed their skin, making it virtually impossible to clean off until it disappeared naturally. These men wouldn’t dare travel in public anytime soon. It would take at least three days to wear off, regardless of how much scrubbing and showering. In addition, it stained their rental vehicles, which opened themselves up to being easily located if someone knew what to look for.

  Alex had effectively put them out of business for the time being. The police were already on their way to respond to his backup alarm, and they would be surprised at the sight. The men clamored into the vehicles and quickly drove away. As each man pulled off their soaked masks, they revealed purple masked faces where the skin had been exposed. They looked like raccoons that had been caught pilfering trashcans.

  The leader immediately dialed his phone. “How am I going to explain this”, he thought.

  “We have a problem,” was all he could muster as he spoke into the phone.

  -Chapter 51-

  I awoke as the plane touched down in Houston and peered over at Galveston who was still busily writing on his pad of paper. We taxied to the gate, debarked, and walked to our connecting flight.

  Galveston bought a newspaper to pass the time. He handed it off to me to read while he ate to see if there was any new information about the explosions in Africa. I hadn’t even gotten the newspaper open, when I saw a new disturbing headline. “Explosions Rock Venezuelan Oil Platforms”. I hurriedly skimmed the article. Black Bear had done just what we predicted, but the speed at which they did it was the shocker. I read it further. It seemed that the rhetoric was increasing from the anti-American Venezuelan government. They were blaming the explosions on anti-government rebels supported by no one other than the United States.

  The explosions rocked two different offshore oil platforms, sending hundreds of thousands of barrels of oil spewing into the Atlantic Ocean. Black Bear obviously didn’t care about the environment, nor did the great Senator Eastman, I thought. I pushed the paper toward Galveston and pointed at the headline, not saying a word. He continued to slowly chew on a muffin he had.

  “Damn,” he said with muffin still in his mouth. “Just like you said. They didn’t waste any time, did they?”

  “No,” I answered. “I didn’t think they would do it in Venezuela, but I guess it makes sense.”

  “How is that?” Galveston asked me.

  “The Venezuelan government doesn’t particularly care for us. This ought to ramp up the oil prices worldwide quickly, especially for the U.S. I’m going to find a TV and see what they’re saying about it.” I left Galveston and walked to one of the overhead televisions tuned to CNN. I strained to hear the commentators over the clatter of the terminal. The oil prices were rising on the news of the explosions. Oil output would be decreased worldwide due to the explosions in Africa and now Venezuela. In addition, a blanket of fear would cover everyone’s mind about the rising prices, causing companies and people to reevaluate how they did business. There were even calls for dipping into the United States’ strategic oil reserves.

  I thought of what the Senator was doing this whole time. He was probably sitting comfortably in his Senate office watching the news unfold on his TV, waiting for his chance to release his new life saving legislation. I walked back to Galveston who had finished his snack and was pouring over the news story as the announcement came on for the next leg of our flight. It was on to Rio, and I was still curious about Galveston’s plan. It better be good.

  -Chapter 52-

  Before takeoff Galveston showed me a phone text message from Alex. It read, “Made it okay, call if you need us. Hope you’re comfortable”.

  “Look at the picture he sent with it,” Galveston said pointing at the phone. Up flashed a picture of Alex and Dr. Sloan, each with a goofy grin on their faces as they held up large margarita glasses.

  “Jerk,” I said.

  “I’m going to tell him they need to be in Rio tomorrow, just to tick him off,” Galveston said laughing.

  “Beautiful,” I added.

  Jane found her seat next to us and she patted me on the knee as she sat down. I had been fully forgiven for my gasoline gaffe. Galveston pulled out his papers and moved through them scribbling notes.

  I decided to focus on Jane and know her better again since now we were rested and on more amicable terms. I was excited to have some make believe alone time with her. Jane reached her arm under mine and put her head on my shoulder. We both fell asleep in a glorious, comfortable slumber.

  I slept hard until I felt a prodding in my ribs. Galveston was watching the extremely bad in-flight movie while drinking a soda. He was poking me with his finger while he watched and drank.

  “What are you doing?” I asked groggily with one eye open.

  “Oh, you’re awake,” he said, faking surprise. “Well since you’re awake, let me fill you in on what we’re going to do.”

  “Okay,” I said, wiping my eyes. I gently moved Jane’s head to the window. “Let me hear it,” I said to Galveston flatly.

  “Good. Okay, here’s the plan,” he spoke quietly, almost covertly. “When we finally make it to Sao Paulo we’ll find Ecomax and hopefully locate Dr. Patelo. Depending on what we find, we infiltrate the facility, sabotage the production, and then get out.”

  I waited for more. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, that’s about it.”

  “So in all this time, this is what you’ve come up with? What the hell were you writing over there for so long?”

  “Oh, this,” he s
aid, holding up his papers. “Sudoku. This crap is addictive.”

  “Sudoku?” I questioned flatly. “A game? You’ve been doing a game this whole time?”

  “No, this is no game, it’s a mental exercise.”

  I could only roll my eyes. “What in the world would grand plan accomplish?” I inquired.

  “If they can’t release the product, then they can’t keep going with their plan.”

  “Right,” I answered.

  “So if they don’t have one that works, then they’re sunk.”

  “True,” I said, “but that’s not the point. Just the idea could be enough to get things rolling.”

  “Well, what’s your plan?” Galveston asked.

  I thought a second and then a minute. It was obvious he needed my help to come up with a more coherent plan. “I think we need to manipulate the market, or in this case, the potential market for the battery.”

  “Go on,” he prodded me.

  “The way I see it, Black Bear or Ecomax releases a battery that is good, but doesn’t have near the capability of Dr. Sloan’s battery. If we could somehow manipulate the timing around of the introduction of the battery into the market with an alternative that is better, than demand for their ‘so-called invention’ would be non-existent.”

  “I see,” Galveston nodded his head slowly and shuffled his papers. “We could break Black Bear, Ecomax, and the Senator, all at once. I see where you’re going. I’ve got it, I’ve got a plan,” he said holding up a finger.

  “Do tell,” I said shifting in my seat.

  “Just as you said before, there needs to be an alternative, and our alternative will be the guy we’ve had the whole time, Dr. Sloan.”

  I gave Galveston a confused look. “You lost me,” I told him.

  “Dr. Sloan has the final prototype version. We do just what I said before. We get into Ecomax. I know we can do this because we have Elizabeth and the resources of MI6 on our side. There are agents on the ground in Sao Paulo already, and one of those agents has a contact at Ecomax. She said she can get us in, but that’s it. They can’t risk anymore than that. Our first step is to sabotage their operation. Dr. Sloan can educate us on the best way to do this. The second part is even more out of the box. Dr. Sloan doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to get to do his long awaited Memphis presentation about his invention. He’s going to do it as the President of our new technology company.” Galveston hung the words out so I could absorb them. A tiny flicker lit in my brain. I understood where he was going with this.

  “We beat them to the punch then,” I answered.

  “Exactly. We put the fear in them and watch them squirm,” Galveston said confidently. “After that, we expose them for the entire world to see.”

  The plan was daring, stupid, and had so many variables that must be met that it was bound to work. We had made it this far, so why not? In a nutshell, we would release Dr. Sloan’s prototype before Ecomax and Black Bear could release their prototype. But they would have a huge problem. They would have a product that didn’t work as well as ours. By our thinking, Senator Eastman would be pushing his legislation a few days before or after Ecomax’s big announcement, but it would turn out to be useless because we would be first to the table and we would be located in sunny Southern California U.S.A., and not some foreign company.

  “You know a lot of things have to fall into place for this to work,” I said with much apprehension.

  “I know,” Galveston answered. “It looks virtually impossible on paper, but so has everything else we’ve done.” Galveston reached beneath the seat in front of him and pulled out an envelope. He pointed to the address on the front. “We have to find Dr. Patelo, find out what he knows, and tell him about Espinosa.” We didn’t know that would be impossible.

  -Chapter 53-

  Chase sat at the long table surrounded by other men and women of his elite set. He slowly chewed his beef Carpaccio that sat on top of a bed of arugula, and sipped on a glass of ’61 Chateau La Mission Haut Brion Pessac Leognan Bordeaux, a three thousand dollar bottle of wine.

  There was a reason for this little event; to show the investors that things were on track, and their returns would be sizable. He would have to lie about it, but this didn’t faze him in the least.

  Just as he finished his dinner and got a refill on his glass of wine, his phone vibrated. He excused himself quietly from the table and got up, walked to an adjacent room, and answered it.

  “Yes,”

  “The operation is complete and clean.” It was Murray on the other end.

  “Good. Move to the next target and complete it. Only call me again when it is complete.”

  “Agreed.” Murray answered, and quickly hung up.

  Chase didn’t care for Murray, but he was an unsavory essential for the plan to come to fruition. He didn’t immediately return to the table, and instead made another call.

  “Yes?” The husky voice answered on the other end.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” Chase said into the phone.

  “Yes, what is it?” The voice asked dryly.

  “We’re on track. Our other little problem has been taken care of. Project Rig was successful as you probably well know. When is the announcement?”

  “Three days. I’ve been ensured of that. I noticed how your boys went about it. I hope they are covering their asses.”

  “Yes they are, and they are closing in on the last contact, Murray’s association with us is complete. Everything has been done as quietly as possible, as promised.”

  “I wouldn’t call some of it quiet,” the voice grumbled. “I don’t want to be caught with my pants down.”

  “Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” Chase shot back.

  “Watch it Chase. I could have your ass in a sling and I could still come out smelling like roses.” The words had definitely hit a raw nerve.

  “We’re both in this, you know that,” Chase said to the voice on the other end.

  “I’m ready. In four days I’ll get the FBI involved, and the whole thing will be blown. We better be ready.”

  “Of course, everything is in place. We can’t be stopped now. Goodbye.” Chase hung up the phone and returned to the table, where the other patrons were finishing their desserts. He didn’t sit down.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, let me inform you of our progress.”

  -Chapter 54-

  The plane landed in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil after an eleven hour flight from Houston. It had been a long journey, but on our arrival Galveston immediately began working the phone, first contacting Elizabeth, and then realized he had three messages from David May.

  He listened to the messages and I noticed his face change as he listened. Something was amiss. He hung up the phone slowly and his eyes were sunken. Dr. Blout, Dr. Sloan’s friend and May’s contact at Global Energy, was dead, supposedly from an auto accident. May didn’t think it was just an accident.

  Black Bear was going after everyone that knew about the battery.

  “These bastards aren’t going to get away with it. We’re going to find everybody involved, and the Feds better beat us to them,” Galveston said angrily with passion, he meant every word.

  I too felt his anger. These men were playing with people’s lives for money and creating havoc in their wake. None of it sat well with the Boy Scout in me, if I had been one. I felt we did have a purpose, well beyond covering our butts or even making money for the business. Since our altercation at Jane’s house, it had become personal. Now the killing of a colleague’s friend, Dr. Blout, only angered me more.

  “What else did May have to say?” I asked Galveston, who was finally beginning to calm down.

  “Chase may be a prime player. He had been pressing Dr. Blout about the location of Dr. Sloan. May is going to a press conference where he will be able to interview Chase.”

  “Interesting,” I responded, not knowing what else to say to him at the moment.

  Galveston and I would fly out the
next morning to meet Elizabeth in Sao Paulo. We would convince Jane to stay behind at the hotel, and await our return.

  The conspiracy theories and paranoia ran amuck in my head that night at the hotel. Then it struck me, what did we really know about Weston Chase’s motivation? He seemed concerned about Dr. Sloan’s disappearance and seemed to have a big stake in the production of the battery. He was a businessman, and once a businessman, always a businessman. Of all the conspiracy theories I thought up in the dark, this was the one that bothered me the most. He had the connection with Global Energy, the Alternative Energy Consortium, even Black Bear. I waited as long as I could before speaking up in the darkness of the room.

  “Hey,” I said softly. “Galveston?” All I heard was heavy sleepful breathing. I reached down in the dark and felt around for my shoe, and upon finding it, flung it towards the side of his bed. I heard him grunt as it missed the side of the bed and hit him in the head. “Galveston? You awake?” I said again.

  “Uh, yeah, what the hell? What is it?” He said rubbing his head.

  “What do you know about Weston Chase?” I asked.

  “What? Weston Chase? It’s two thirty in the morning, go back to sleep,” he mumbled.

  “What do you know about him?” I inquired again.

  “Same as you. Rich guy, has lots of toys, a businessman,” he said sleepily.

  “But what do you really know about him?” I heard the bed move and then his bedside light flipped on causing us to squint at each other.

  “What’s on your mind?” He asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking that we don’t know much about him. We’ve never really looked into his connection with this whole thing. What’s in it for him?”

  “Why does he have to be in it for something?” He queried.

  “All his types are in it for something. He’s a corporate raider, a businessman at heart. How did he know Dr. Sloan went missing so quickly?”