Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Where is she?” Butch asked. The two of them sat at the table while Muriel puttered around the countertops nearby.

  Francis sighed. “Oh, she’s been gone for decades. Kay has her own grown kids to deal with. She went to school over in Carbondale, but then she moved to New York City. Wanted to live the high life; said it was the highest form of culture in the world. Once she was there, she never came back.” The old guy laughed, but not in a good way.

  “Hey, at least you know the rocks didn’t fall on her. They all fell out west.” Inwardly, Ezra added, with my daughter in the crosshairs.

  “Yeah, E-Z’s right. Your daughter and your grandkids are well away from all this mess we’re in. Safe. Someday you should go visit her.”

  Muriel walked over and set a plate in front of Ezra. “Care for a sandwich?” Her rose-scented perfume almost made him reject it, but it sure looked good.

  “Thanks, I’m starving,” he blurted out, before seeing the condition of the meat. It was ham, as best he could tell, but it was a deep gray. When he glanced around the kitchen, and saw how there were no lights on, or illuminated digits on the microwave oven, he remembered the power wasn’t working. As the woman put a similar sandwich in front of Butch, he decided he had to say something. “Um, ma’am, I don’t want to be rude, but I think your meat supply has gone rancid. There’s no power to keep it chilled.”

  She studied her husband’s plate and sandwich, still in her hands. She tactfully lifted the top layer of bread, then sniffed the meat. Ezra thought it was beyond apparent the meat was no good, but she seemed to have trouble recognizing it for what it was. In the end, she set the plate in front of her husband.

  Francis gently shoved the plate aside, clearly unwilling to burst the woman’s bubble. He looked toward Ezra and spoke quietly. “She’s having a hard time adjusting. We were in Grand Tower to watch her sister’s house for a few days, and we were there when it completely washed away. We almost didn’t make it to the high ground…”

  Ezra had no intention of eating lunch as served, so he switched up the conversation to get back on task. The boat was still at the waterfront. The pirates were still out there. It was worth the delay to speak with Grace, but he couldn’t get wrapped up in these people’s lives. Muriel needed some serious grief counseling, and maybe a lesson on food safety. “Sir, we really need to get that gas. You said you could drive us?”

  “I will.” Francis kissed Muriel on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Thanks for lunch, ma’am,” Ezra said, to remain courteous.

  The men left the kitchen in a hurry. Once free of his wife, Francis seemed to double his pace. He drove them to the gas station, helped them pay manually with a credit card, and then got them to their boat three separate times, adding five gallons of fuel per visit. Once the tank was full, Butch stowed the almost-empty gas container, but Ezra stopped him.

  “We may not get this lucky again,” he said quietly to Butch while Francis waited in the truck. “We should get an extra five gallons for the trip.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Butch strained to look over the bank of the creek, toward the main channel. “And I don’t see our pirate friends, yet. It’s now or never.”

  Francis drove them up the hill and they retrieved five extra gallons for their reserve. On the way back, the unmistakable shape of the three-tiered towboat appeared in the distance. It shoved whitewater out of its way as it sliced the river in the main channel.

  “Son of a…” he sighed. “We got one fill-up too many.”

  Denver, CO

  “Howard, would you gather your security team and see if any of the PWI crewmembers need help evacuating the blast zone?” He chuckled to himself; the blast had already taken place.

  “Roger that,” his loyal lieutenant replied before running out into the smoke-filled street.

  Petteri clasped his hands and reveled in what he’d done. It was no surprise the PWI workers refused to evacuate when the sirens kicked off. They thought he was bluffing, and it’s what he was counting on. “It will teach you to come onto my turf, you stupid peons.” His voice was venomous and vindictive, two aspects he hid from everyone, Howard included. If the authorities ever pursued this “accident,” his people wouldn’t be lying when they said Petteri seemed cool and collected, not to mention concerned, at all times.

  When gunfire erupted out in the smoke, it didn’t surprise him, either. It provided the pretext for what he’d planned to do next. He tapped on his phone and waited for the other party to pick up. “Hello, Mr. Stricker. I’m glad I caught you.”

  “What do you want?” the man asked in a tired voice.

  “Is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Petteri made himself sound pleasant.

  After an obvious attempt to quell some cussing, the Secretary of Homeland Security composed himself. “How can I help you, Mr. Tikkanen?”

  “Much better!” he said with glee. “I have a problem only you can solve. And don’t worry, it isn’t anything you’ll disagree with.” It was his way of telling the man he couldn’t object, but one could never assume the line wasn’t bugged. “I’m in Denver right now and I’ve had multiple encounters with armed citizens. You can hear them from my tent, can’t you?”

  Petteri held the phone toward the flap of the tent. Outside, the gunshots continued every few seconds. Then he put it back to his ear. “Did you hear those bangs? I’ve had criminal elements come right up to our dig site and threaten my men. At first, they merely brandished their firearms. That’s what you call it, right? When citizens flash their guns to threaten?”

  “Correct,” Mr. Stricker replied in a businesslike tone.

  “Well, I must say, it was a fearful sight. Similar stories are taking place at some of my other dig locations. Armed gangs are intent on stealing our product, or, at the very least, they’ve expressed a desire to ransom the pieces by force of arms.”

  “What, exactly, are you asking me to do?”

  Petteri chuckled, appreciating how easy it was to manipulate the powerful government official. Paying him in suitcases of money helped grease the skids, as they say, but if the man ever chomped at his muzzle, all Petteri had to do was threaten the release of some very incriminating photographs. “I need you to outlaw all guns within a five-mile radius of each of my dig sites. Dorothy will send you the coordinates.”

  “Dorothy?” The other man’s voice became excited.

  It was obvious Dorothy had been right. Stricker was indeed hitting on her. However, instead of dragging him over the coals about it, he thought it might be another useful piece of leverage. “Yes, if you were to help me out on this, I might even be able to arrange a meeting between you and her. You know, to discuss the requirements of our dig sites in more detail.”

  The symmetry of his thought processes never ceased to amaze him. He was going to get something useful out of Stricker, for sure, but he was also arranging a loyalty test for Dorothy. How far would she go to get the money she claimed was her main reason for working with Petteri? If he could establish those limits, he would have a sense of where her true loyalties could be found.

  “Oh, yeah. I also need my men to be able to carry defensive guns within the five-mile limit. We both know this confiscation order will only work on the law-abiding people out there. I want my workers to be prepared if hardened criminals come for them. I need to be able to protect my precious workers. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, of course. Whatever you need. I’ll arrange the message immediately. The president will declare martial law; we’ll ban guns in the entire states you’re working in. Then, when that top-level work is done, I’ll get with Dorothy to go over each site in detail, like you said.”

  Petteri could almost hear the man drool.

  “Well, if you want to go the extra mile for me…” he paused dramatically, “I’m sure she’ll be amenable to meeting with you even sooner.”

  When he hung up the phone, Howard was back at the tent flap. Outside, the sound
of gunfire had disappeared, suggesting his security team had regained control of the street.

  “Sir, there were no survivors. The explosion killed most of the PWI men close to the rock, and when their dump truck drivers ran toward the disaster zone, we tried to stop them, for their own safety. However, they had guns and threatened my men, which led to a shoot-out…”

  Petteri put on a face suitable for a funeral. “That’s terrible.”

  Chapter 17

  Crow Agency, MT

  Grace stared out the window of the truck as Logan drove them back to the town hall. She was vaguely aware of the passage of time, but grief over the news about Mom kept her oblivious to the trip and whatever words were shared between Asher and the boy. It was only when they pulled into the parking space that she escaped from her own thoughts.

  “We’re here already?” she asked. Glancing down, she realized Asher had been holding her hand the whole time. Even her sense of touch was dulled by the terrible news.

  Asher spoke sympathetically. “Yes. We’re going in to see Logan’s dad. Are you ready?” He opened the passenger door, sliding out first.

  I’ll never be ready again, she thought, before following her friend.

  The curly-haired geologist gently took her hand and walked her into the town hall. Logan got them past the security, and into his dad’s office. Unlike their last visit, Shawn Runs Hard was not inside waiting for them.

  “Where is he?” Asher asked the boy.

  “I don’t know. Let me go look. You two stay here, okay?”

  Asher acknowledged him.

  After guiding her to one of the chairs in front of the desk, Asher pulled the other one closer to her, then he plopped down. “Grace, I’m so sorry to hear about your mom. I know there’s nothing I can do for you, but if you think of anything…I want to help you with this.”

  She smiled weakly, struggling hard to hold her emotions together, but failing. Instead of building her resolve to prove to the others she wasn’t devastated, she immediately fell apart in the privacy of his embrace. Grace broke into tears and threw her face against his chest. The movement knocked her hat off, but he caught it and tossed it on the desk.

  His delicate cradling of her head and brushing her hair made her weep even more. It was like he was zapping her with an energy designed to force massive sobs. Or, she reasoned from behind those tears, his presence reassured her it was okay to display weakness and let that sorrow out.

  Grace cried for five minutes. When Logan and his dad came in, she instantly shut off her emotions and tried to dry her eyes with a sleeve. She blinked like crazy, knowing it would be obvious what she was doing.

  “Hello again. My son told me about your mother. On behalf of the Crow Tribe of Montana, please accept my condolences.”

  Logan spoke up. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. I don’t think I told you that earlier.”

  She smiled weakly, searching for an out. “Did you tell your father what we found?”

  The boy nodded, as did his dad. Shawn replied, “If what you say is true, it means the negotiators in the conference room are not talking with me in good faith. They have to be aware how much the rock is worth.” He expressed amazement. “Eighty million? Is it even possible? You said it would be worth one or two million.”

  Asher remained next to Grace, not cradling her head, but still holding her hand. “I can’t swear to you it’s worth that much. I’d need tools and computer analysis to confirm my guess, but I did get a close look at the makeup of the rock. It was almost all high-grade ore, with little in the way of impurities, which I didn’t expect. There’s definitely gold and platinum; I’d know those anywhere. If I’m wrong about there being any other rare elements inside, it’s still going to be worth seventy or eighty million, easy.”

  “Unbelievable. They were going to pay me twenty thousand dollars for exclusive access for a flatbed tow truck to go back there and pull it onto the cargo platform. I was going to take it, too.” He smiled at her. “I owe you two for many things now. I’m going to be in your debt for a long time.”

  She waved him off. “We’re not here to cash in on anything. I wouldn’t mind telling the TKM a-holes myself, though. As I said, we had a run-in with workers from their company. In fact, they tried to kill us.” Over the next few minutes, Grace outlined their brush with Misha and why they’d been targeted by the company.

  Shawn laughed. “I believe you. No one honorable enough to both save my son and hand over an eighty-million-dollar payday would lie about being shot at by hitmen. If you want to tell them yourself, I won’t get in your way. I do, however, want to watch.”

  Grace wiped her eyes again, hoping the puffiness wouldn’t make her appear weak. She followed Asher, Logan, and his dad down a short hallway and into a cramped conference room. Two well-dressed TKM employees sat at the far end of the otherwise vacant twelve-person table. She recognized the two men by the navy-blue name badges affixed to their chests.

  Shawn spoke first. “Gentlemen, thank you for your patience. I know the last two hours have been long, but I wanted to confer with allies of the tribe before I gave you an answer about your proposal.” He motioned for Grace to step forward. “And I’ve had a special request from this young lady to relay my answer to you.”

  One of the men stood up. “Grace Anderson.” He looked between her and Asher. “And you must be Asher Creighton.”

  She was caught totally off guard. “How the hell do you know who we are?”

  The man smirked. “Everyone at TKM gets security alerts for threats we’re supposed to be on the lookout for. I’d recognize your faces anywhere. I probably have a dozen text messages displaying them.”

  “We’re the threats?” she asked, taken aback.

  Asher put himself between her and the men. “Your company tried to have us killed. We almost ate a bullet for the supposed threat we pose. All I did was share with the world how TKM dropped their asteroid on purpose. Everything you do to us from now on won’t change that fact.”

  The man shrugged. “I highly doubt you have your facts correct, but I’m not in security. I don’t really care what you’ve done. My purpose here is to negotiate this deal for my bosses. The only reason I even mentioned your names is because of all the spam I’ve gotten about you.”

  She recovered her wits. “Either way, you should know Asher and I did our jobs, too. We went to the piece of asteroid you’re trying to steal. It’s worth a lot of money and the Crow tribe is going to collect it. Not your stupid company.”

  The guy leaned back in his chair, seemingly defeated. “This is unfortunate. TKM has great respect for the Crow people and lands. We had no intention of ripping off the tribe, which is why we’ve proposed paying a fee for the simple act of collecting what belongs to us anyway. If this is going to be more complicated, I’m afraid we’ll need to involve our lawyers.”

  “It seems to me, if a rock falls from the sky, it belongs to the property owner where it came down.” Grace didn’t know for sure, but it seemed logical. Who else would own it? The United Nations? She’d never heard of that organization driving into other countries to steal their meteorites.

  “That may be true in cases of random meteorite impacts, but TKM owned the rock when it was up in space. We found and named it. We brought it from the asteroid belt.”

  “You crashed it to Earth,” she added in a smarmy voice.

  The man clenched his jaw before continuing. “Whatever else happened, this rock and all the others like it belong to the Tikkanen Kinetic Mining company. I’ll give the Crow people one last chance to hand it over. Our offer was very generous, but I’d even be willing to up the fee to an even one-hundred-thousand dollars.”

  Grace looked back to Shawn Runs Hard, wondering if he was going to take it.

  Instead, he crossed his arms. “I think we’re done negotiating.”

  The two men got up and strode toward the door. The one who’d been talking stopped near Grace. “I’ll have to put you two in my report, you know.
It will be worth it if they can stop sending me all those warnings, though. In fact, there used to be three people who showed up over and over, but they caught one of them.” He pulled out his phone with amusement and showed it to Asher. “Here. See? This woman.”

  Asher did something she never would have suspected was in him: he punched the man in the face.

  Chester, IL

  “We have to get to the boat,” Ezra exclaimed. “Francis, please drop us off and we’ll get out of your hair. Thank you for the rides, and the offer of lunch, but that boat has a bunch of armed gunmen who will hunt us down if they see us.”

  Looking out across the muddy brown water, the towboat once again had several boats lashed behind it. It was still far enough down river they’d have enough time to get Susan’s Grace started and on the move. However, if the ship freed the speedboats, they’d have no problem catching up to them.

  Francis kept his foot on the brake. “You know, I served in Korea. Did my part. Back there, I learned to survive by knowing a losing bet when I saw one.” He pointed to the ship, crawling ever closer. “Getting chased by that thing is a losing bet.”

  “We have to try,” Ezra replied, sounding desperate. “My daughter needs me.”

  The old man put the truck in reverse.

  “What are you doing?” Ezra complained, thinking he was trying to deny him the opportunity of taking the boat.

  The driver looked over at him. “I’m getting you some help. If you insist on getting yourself killed, at least let me provide cover fire.”

  Butch, also a veteran of war, nodded approval. “If you have any fifty-cals, we could mount one on our boat.”