The Arcturus Man

His brain churned the information. LPG is a mix of propane and butane and expands at a ratio of 270 to 1. A 1,000 gallon tank at a vapor efficiency of 10% will yield about 27,000 gallons of vapor. Its boiling point is minus 43 degrees Fahrenheit. The metal of the tank will heat rapidly because the increasing vapor will not absorb most of the heat. The fuel vapor to air ratio was critical. If it was too low or too high, there would be no fire ball. It had to be from 5% to 15%. Jared wanted the fire ball. The blast overpressure wasn’t important. He did the math. Distance in meters divided by the overpressure constant, about 1 psi, equaled the yield factor of 10% time’s kilograms of vapor times the energy content in Joules, all divided by 3. The superheated LPG would vaporize as it burst from the tank, creating a fire ball that was 60 feet in diameter, releasing 1,200 kilo-Joules of heat energy per square meter.

  Half the weight of the wood he was pushing under the LPG tank was water. That would reduce the heat energy of the wood by 20%. His larger fire would reach about 400 Fahrenheit degrees of heat below the tank. He tried to judge how long the small debris fire had been burning. The larger fire he started would require about 22 minutes until the tank burst. That was too much time. He needed more heat.

  The noise from many fires and yelling by Rubio’s men easily covered the sound of the motor drive of the cross bow. Jared no longer had the arm strength to cock it manually. He shot. The bolt went entirely through the skull of the man watching the house. He dropped instantly. Jared risked moving into the bright illumination coming from his burning home but he wasn’t seen. He took the man’s LPG sprayer and covered the tank from top to bottom. Kerosene would have been better but Jared decided not to push his luck. The kerosene was in the tool shed but it was too far away. He pushed more wood under the tank. He threw a rubber garden house and a rubber rain barrel into the fire next to the tank. The fuel tank was engulfed in flames. He quickly recalculated. The temperature of the fire was now up to 600 degrees, possibly higher. He estimated that it would take about 8 more minutes for the tank to reach at least 200 pounds per square inch of pressure, enough to rupture the tank.

  Now he knew it would work. The fireball will kill any living thing within 300 feet. It would be 50% lethal within 500 feet. It would produce severe injuries to 1000 feet. And, if he was lucky, the overpressure and shrapnel would kill as well.

  It was crude science but Jared’s ability to process information was phenomenal. The smoke from the house and the burning wet brush was helping to hide his movements. Jared kept adding wood to the fire under the tank. One of Rubio’s men covering the house could appear around the corner at any time. He found a place to hide—to wait for the BLEVE. He had to protect himself against the massive radiant heat from the fire ball. He crawled back into the undergrowth that wasn’t burning and crawled back into the creek. He kept crawling until it was deep enough to submerge his entire body. He waited.

  He sensed movement. One of Rubio’s attackers came within a dozen feet. Jared slowly hugged the bank of the creek. He didn’t move. He wasn’t spotted.

  Rubio’s men were searching for him and they were getting close. It was good that they were close but did he have 5 more minutes before they discovered him? He didn’t have a choice. This was the only weapon he had.

  Jared waited until the men were gone. He calculated again. He left no margin for error. He crawled back to the tank and threw the MAC 11 he had taken into the fire. Another calculation! He low crawled back toward the stream. This might work as long as he didn’t run into Rubio or the men that were flanking him. He tried to sense where they were, but now is mind was clouded. He felt the first waves of nausea and weakness. He was close to collapse. He had to risk it before he lost consciousness. He found the stream. They hadn’t spotted him yet. He rolled in and submerged his entire body under the water. He tried holding his breath but he felt faint. Normally, he could hold his breath for a long time, but now he had to come up for air every minute. More calculations were processed.

  Suddenly, he heard the sound of bees passing over his head. He had been spotted. Bullets raked across the stream bed as he crawled under a protective overhang. He couldn’t survive being hit again.

  Finally…the ammunition in the MAC 11 he had thrown into the fire began to explode. It was a burst of gun fire. Rubio’s flankers and all of the men at the house ran to the south side. Only the man who had spotted Jared in the stream stayed behind. Jared’s calculations were perfect.

  “Here, here, he is here,” yelled the man who pinned down Jared, but the rest of the men couldn’t hear him.

  There was confusion and more gun fire. They were all shooting wildly. And then it happened. The fireball was immense. People on the mainland saw the explosion, even through the heavy fog. The sky lit up. No one knew what had happened but everyone realized that something massive had exploded. Most thought that it was a ship explosion. It happened sometimes.

  Jared surfaced and crawled out of the stream. The forest was aflame. The overpressure took out much of the already burned out house. There were charred human remains scattered around the yard. Jared was confident that everyone had been killed. They had all been near the tank when the fire ball ignited. No one could have survived. He stood and limped through the burning trees away from the house toward the well house.

  Rubio had worked his way down the stream, away from the house. He wrongly guessed the Jared would try to get to the boathouse. The guess was a poor one, but it saved his life. When the fireball ignited, Rubio’s clothes were set on fire and he was burned, but he was far enough away to have survived. He had no idea what had happened but it was evident that there had been a huge explosion. His men might have been responsible. Perhaps one of the LPG sprayers exploded, but the explosion was too big for that. He wasn’t sure what it was.

  Pain was an old friend. He would tolerate an old friend. He ripped off the parts of his clothes that were scorched. His self discipline kept him from running. There was always the possibility of an ambush. Rubio never underestimated an enemy and didn’t think that hunting Jared had been an exception. Nevertheless, perhaps he had underestimate Jared. Perhaps! He tried to stay in the shadows but the burning trees and brush illuminated everything. It was difficult to find any path that wasn’t on fire. He was forced to walk along an open gravel path. The heat was intense.

  As he got closer to the house he saw Jared. He brought up his MAC 11 but held his fire. Where were his men? He looked into a clearing behind the house and saw a pair of boots. They were smoldering. They had belonged to Ignatius. What had happened? Could it be that Jared had survived and his men were dead? He tried raising them on his headset. No response. Then he saw a few more of the charred bodies about 200 feet away. He was alone. The risk was too great. Jared was too important a target to take any more risks. He shouldered the MAC 11 and slowly backed away.

  Rubio worked his way back to the boathouse. He heard boats approaching. The fog was too thick to see them, but it carried sound very well. He assumed they were coming because of the huge explosion. He quickly checked the explosive hidden on Jared’s boat. It was an insurance policy just in case anyone on the island somehow managed to escape. Rubio always thought ahead. He was also aware of the cabin cruiser that Jared kept at Pea Island at the Ovid Marina. Rubio had hidden a firefly above the fly bridge. This was a tiny flashing light-emitting diode, but it flashed in the infrared frequencies. It was invisible to the human eye but if viewed through an infrared scope, it looked like explosions going off ever 10 seconds. If they actually made it to the marina, Rubio’s employers didn’t want an attack there. It would attract too much public attention and scrutiny. more away. The firefly would allow him to track the boat from a helicopter a mile, or He had thought of everything, but then again, had he underestimated Siemels? It seemed that he had. He had to be much more careful from now on.

  Old Man Sevigny hand dug the well to a depth of forty feet. It was lined with brick and stone and was sheltered by a small cedar shake shed. Finding fresh water on an
island is usually a rarity, but Eagle’s Head was an exception. After failing to find suitable water, Sevigny called on a douser. He was told to dig deeper. Old Maine lore should never be underestimated. After drilling forty feet inside the well shaft, Sevigny hit an artesian well. The existence of a fresh water pond on an island should have been a clue, but hitting the artesian spring was a small miracle nevertheless.

  Jared went into the well house and pulled off the well head cover. He sensed that he had been watched earlier by someone (so he now understood that someone had survived), but was confident that he was not observed going into the well house. Whoever it was, was gone now. He replaced the cover as he dropped down.

  The shaft was about 5 feet across. A rusty ladder led down to the bottom of the pit to allow servicing the pump. He climbed half-way down the ladder and pulled open a steel door. The corroded hinges creaked loudly. A dark tunnel opened up. This was the part that Jared added as the log house was being constructed. Jared wasn’t paranoid. He was prepared. There is a difference. He was very good at planning ahead. He crawled along the tunnel until he was almost at the house. Another steel door led to a vertical chase up to the saferoom. He pushed the call button on an intercom mounted in the wall.

  “Jenny, are you alright?”

  “JARED, IS THAT YOU? Where are you? Where are you calling from?”

  “Jenny, I know you’re speaking, but I can’t understand you. Go to the intercom next to the cot,” said Jared.

  She pushed the talk button. “I found it. What’s happening? All of the cameras went out.”

  “There’s time for that later. Do you see the red tool box under the cot?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Open the tool box and take out the claw hammer.”

  She did as instructed. “Now what?”

  “Rip out the gyp board behind the cot. Hammer into the Sneakers movie poster— the poster in German,” said Jared.

  Jenny smashed through the poster and peeled away large chunks of sheet rock, revealing a steel door.

  “Do you see the door yet?” asked Jared.

  “Yes, I found it. Now what?” she asked.

  “Pull the large lever to the left. It may be stiff. Open the door.”

  She pulled away the remaining pieces of the gyp board. It took a lot of effort, but she managed to unlock the door. She pulled the door open and looked in and then down. It was dark, but she could make out a form at the bottom of the rung ladder.

  “Jared! That you?”

  He climbed up the ladder, favoring his left leg and left arm. He crawled into the safe room. Jenny hugged him and buried her head in his chest. Then she abruptly stepped back. Her blouse was soaked.

  “YOU’RE COVERED WITH BLOOD.” She began to panic. “Oh no, what did they do to you. She pushed him to the cot.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be OK, but we have to go…right now.”

  He grabbed a small duffle go-bag and a suitcase and threw them down the shaft. They were pre-packed getaway bags. He went to the console.

  “Ginger, are you OK?” asked Jared. The terminal was dead. He walked over to the wall next to the computer console and using a coat hanger, shorted two exposed drywall nails. Suddenly one of the dry wall panels slid to the side. He removed a small wooden box. Jenny recognized it. It was the same box that she admired when she toured the house the first time. It was the box that his father had built. It was Pandora’s Box.

  “Climb down. I’m right behind you.” He picked up a first-aid kit and handed it to her. He tied a cord to the wooden box and lowered it down to her.

  When they both reached the well house, he scanned the area from a small window.

  “It looks safe, but let me go first,” said Jared.

  Jared led her along a path that avoided the charred human remains of what had been Rubio’s invasion force. As Jenny followed him out, she saw for the first time what had happened. The house was nothing but flame and charred wood. Parts were collapsing as she looked on. The woods were ablaze and the air was saturated with heavy dark smoke. She began to cough.

  “Jared, everything’s gone. You’ve lost everything. Who did this? Why?”

  “This is just stuff. There isn’t anything that can’t be replaced. We have to get away from here. I’ll explain what happened later.”

  He led here down the gravel path to the boathouse and they went inside.

  “Get into the power boat, but don’t touch anything. OK?”

  She climbed in and immediately sat down. Jared searched the boat quickly. He crawled under the dash board and immediately saw the small bomb that was wired to the ignition. He disconnected it and threw the device into the water. It was someone else’s problem now. He checked the entire boat one more time to make sure that two devices hadn’t been hidden. It seemed to be clear. He checked the overhead door operator and controls. He went to his work bench and found a roll of duct tape.

  “Get off again and step about 10 yards from the boat house. I’ll call you when it is clear.”

  Jenny did as she was told. Moments later Jared called out.

  “OK, come back. It’s clear. We’re leaving.” She climbed back on board.

  There was some damage to the boathouse but the overhead door operator worked. He started the engine and they pulled out. He gunned the throttle. He could hear other boats approaching. They were very close. He pulled away and steered away from them. He could faintly see their outlines in the fog as he disappeared across the bay. He kept his running lights off. Jenny sat silently near his side. It was evident that she was in shock. She was chocking back tears but refused to cry. Jared needed help. She had so many questions to ask, but now was not the time. He needed her.

  She went to the first-aid kit and searched it for bandages and disinfectant. She wasn’t sure what to do even though she had a great deal of emergency medical technician training. The classes didn’t cover gun shots.

  She began to pull off his clothing. The wounds were terrible. She tore off the sleeves of her shirt and dipped them into the cold salt water. She was shivering.

  “Reach inside the duffle bag and put on one or two of the flannel shirts. They should help,” he said. She did.

  She took the salt water soaked rags and cleaned his scalp wound and then his shoulder and leg. The leg was still bleeding. Jared tried to help but had difficulty in reaching all areas of the wounds.

  “Get the duct tape,” he said.

  She found it.

  “There is a small bottle of Betadine. Mix it half and half with water and help me wash the wounds. Use the bottled water, said Jared.

  Jenny washed his wounds. The Betadine made his skin look jaundiced.

  “Is that enough?” Asked Jenny.

  “That’s fine. Dry off my leg as much as you can.”

  She did.

  “Rub a little of the Polysporin into the wounds then wrap the duct tape to cover the wound. Both sides.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said.

  “Trust me. I know it sounds gross, but it will stop the bleeding until I can tend to it properly,” he said.

  Jenny dried his shoulder, calf, and head. She took tour off pieces of duct tape and applied it to his wounds. Jenny sat back in disbelief that she had just duct-taped huge gun shot wounds.

  “You’re crazy. Its going to get infected,” said Jenny.

  “I’ll clean them out properly later. I don’t have any adsorbent haemostatic agent in this kit. I also don’t have sutures to close the wound. There is still plenty of time to do that later. I have medical supplies on my large boat. I just need to rest for a while,” he said.

  Jenny kept forgetting that she was talking to a very smart guy. He could probably be a doctor if he wanted.

  “Good idea. Lay down. Where are we going?” asked Jenny.

  “I’m fine for now. You can take over after we switch boats. You do know how to operate a power boat, don’t you?”

  “Sure. I’ve done it a few t
imes. How big a boat are we talking about?” asked Jenny.

  “We’re talking about a 1999 Carver 350 Cabin Cruiser. It has a length of 36 feet and a 12 foot, 9 inch beam. It can sleep six and has all the usual comfort features,” he said.

  “Great!” said Jenny. “But why are we running? Do you think those men are still after you? Shouldn’t we find the police—right now?”

  “It’s complicated. The police are going to have a lot of questions and aren’t necessarily going to be on my—our—side, at least not for a while. They can’t protect us. You have to trust me on that. We’re a lot safer getting away from everyone for a few days until I have time to sort this mess out,” said Jared.

  “Won’t your big boat be easy to find? Even the police are going to be looking for you now,” said Jenny.

  “The boat is registered in Panama under my Latvian name. INS has the information about my name but I am confident no one else does. The federal government still isn’t very efficient about sharing information even in this post-9/11 period. You can still count on that,” said Jared.

  She was still badly shaken by what had happened over the past few hours. Heck, her whole life may have changed. She was determined, however, to not let Jared down. He was hurt badly and he looked like he could pass out at any moment. She wasn’t going to let him see that she was frightened. If he sensed it, so be it, but she wasn’t going to let him see the signs. He is the one who needed help now. She was dieing to ask him questions about the attack, but not now.

  Jenny was watching Jared, at least when he wasn’t looking. His eyes were halfclosed. The cold was working on both of them now. She helped Jared get dressed again and she put on a few more layers of whatever she could find, including a ratty tarp she found in the fish locker. She didn’t look glamorous but she was keeping out the cold. Despite all her feelings about protecting the environment, she threw his bloody clothes into the bay. She watched as the clothes drifted back into their wake until the dark water and the dark night hid them.

  She had no notion of how many people had died tonight. The loss of the beautiful house made her sad. Her chest, arms and legs were soaked with Jared’s blood. It was all so depressing. She tried hard to be upbeat for his sake, but it wasn’t working.