by Peter Parken
He resumed his digging. Nate could see that his hands were cut from scraping against the jagged metal track supports. He glanced around and saw what he needed. A single piece of metal rod support. “Back up, Tom. I’m going to use this—it’ll be faster.”
Nate rammed the metal rod into the ground where Tom had been digging and began levering underneath. He could feel resistance about three feet down. Stood up and began pushing down on the free end.
At the same time, he heard the horn of the ship—it was getting ready to dock. And there were sounds of activity about 100 yards to his right—dockside. The dock crew was getting ready, too.
He grunted and strained his biceps to their limits, pushing down harder and harder on the rod until he felt the piece underneath it give way. The hidden section emerged slowly from the dirt to the sound of scraping metal. Nate gave the rod one final push and up popped one jagged end of the track.
Tom reached down and grabbed it—yanked up as hard as he could and then pulled it over on an angle away from the ditch it had been concealed in.
Kneeling over the broken section of track, they gasped in unison. “Christ, look at it! It’s been melted—those edges are hardened molten steel!”
Nate pulled his camera out of his pocket and began snapping away. “No point in pulling up the other end, Tom. It’ll obviously look the same as this. Ron was right when he guessed what might have happened. When I described that flash I saw, and the man holding his fist towards the second hill, Ron said it sounded like remote-detonated thermate. Thermate melted our track. It didn’t snap. It was melted. Who the fuck would do this? And why? It was mass murder, for Christ’s sake!”
Tom rubbed his muddy fingers across his face, wiping away the sweat and leaving streaks of dirt in their wake. “Let’s get out of here, Nate. We got what we needed.”
They began to crawl back the way they had come in, moving fast now, banging their heads into dangling pieces of trestle along the way. Finally, they emerged from the twisted metal tunnel and struggled to their feet.
Two men stood in front of them, pistols in hand.
“Hand over the camera.”
Nate was out of breath from the frantic crawl through the twisted mess. And he felt an anger building in his belly. They had come this far and discovered exactly what they needed; what would clear their names if anyone would listen. And now this.
“I can’t do that.”
The two men were gorillas. Dressed in military fatigues, both were at least six and a half feet tall—or at least it seemed that way to Nate. Bald heads, square jaws—military to the core.
“You’re not authorized to be here. This wreckage is off limits.”
Tom waved his hand in an arc. “I don’t see a warning sign. We were just souvenir hunting—this is a famous rollercoaster and an infamous accident. We just wanted something to sell on eBay.”
One of the gorillas laughed. “You think we’re stupid? We know who you are. And right now, we’re gonna go for a walk over to that ship there, and you can go for a little ride with your rollercoaster. Move!” He waved his pistol in the direction of the driveway leading to the dock.
Nate and Tom turned in the direction of the dock and started walking, hearing the footsteps of the goons behind them. Nate thought: This is how it’s going to end. No one will let this evidence see the light of day.
They turned a corner in the driveway and Nate glanced up one last time at the twisted wreckage of the Black Mamba. His creation, his masterpiece—the end of him.
Suddenly, there was another voice, a comfortingly familiar one.
“What’s going on here? Why are your weapons drawn?”
Nate and Tom turned around just in time to see the two gorillas doing the same—and they were saluting while shoving the pistols back in their holsters.
The gorilla in charge said, “Sir! Weapons secured, sir!”
“Good. Again, what’s going on here? Who are these people?”
Nate thought: Ron is one darn good actor!
“These men were snooping around the rollercoaster wreckage, sir. Taking photos. We asked for their camera and they refused. We were just in the process of taking them to the ship.”
“And who are they?”
“We were instructed to keep a watch out for them. These look like the executives from the company who designed the rollercoaster.”
“Did you check their identification?”
“Not yet, sir. Just face recognition from photos. We were ordered to be vigilant about visitors here.”
“Ah…I have the same orders as you do.”
“With all due respect, sir, who are you? We weren’t advised that a Navy liaison would be here for the loading of the wreckage.”
“I’m Lieutenant Commander James Fielding. Does that name not mean anything to you? I’m attached to the naval station.”
The gorillas paused. Then the second man pulled a cellphone out of a holster on his hip. “You’ll understand that we have to check this out, sir. I’ll just make the call.”
Ron nodded. “Sure, no problem.”
The man’s index finger punched the number into his phone right at the very instant that Ron’s very different kind of punch landed in the middle of his throat. He started choking and the phone fell from his hand. While it was still in mid-air, Ron’s left foot shot out, sending the phone flying into the pile of twisted metal.
The other gorilla gasped and yanked his pistol out of its holster. Ron’s right foot moved so fast that it was a mere blur. The soldier’s gun was gone in an instant. He struck out with his fist, but Ron spun out of the way. Then he turned his back into him, grabbed the man’s arm and threw him effortlessly over his shoulder. He hit the ground with a thud, but like the trained soldier he was, he was back on his feet in a flash. He advanced on Ron, who stood his ground with both fists extended in front of him.
The first soldier was on his feet now too and both were moving slowly towards Ron, side by side. He was down in a crouch, white suit smudged with dirt from crawling around in the bus. When the men were within four feet, Ron faked a punch with one hand and then executed a perfect 360-degree spin at lightning speed, his right foot carving an arc in the air, connecting with the chins of both men consecutively. He made it look like child’s play. And his speed made it impossible for them to react in time.
They grunted and went down. Ron didn’t waste any time waiting for them to regain their alertness. He dropped to the ground between them and put a hand underneath each of their heads, squeezing hard at the bases of their skulls. His fingers knew exactly where to press. The soldiers’ eyeballs rolled up into their foreheads and their bodies went still.
Ron leaped to his feet and looked back at his two friends. “Don’t worry, they’re just unconscious. But we’d better get out of here fast!”
Chapter 21
It was her favorite spot for lunch.
The ‘Sunshine Café.’ A happy name, she thought. And it did indeed embrace the sunshine, with some funky tables set up on an outdoor patio. It catered to clientele who wanted charm, great service and darn good food. Just a few blocks down the street from the hospital, it was a calm refuge for her. Especially after a morning of surgeries. Lunch here was always perfect for her. It was far enough away from the medical center that most of the doctors and nurses avoided it—in fact, most just ate in the hospital cafeteria.
Shelby hated the cafeteria. Not that the food was bad—it wasn’t. It was just that it wasn’t an escape for her. She needed her escapes, needed her solitude. While most people would describe her as a social creature, she really wasn’t. She could turn it on and off when she needed to, but she really did enjoy being alone. Loved her own company, her own thoughts.
Sometimes, she wished she wasn’t that way.
And most times she wouldn’t really give her lifestyle much thought. The fact that she was alone, had no one special in her life. For a while, when she was younger, she actually had spells when she was angry wit
h herself. Why was she so choosy? Why was no one right for her?
She’d dated a lot of men in her life—maybe she was expecting too much, but she just never got that special feeling with any of them. That wonderful feeling that made her want to get to know them better, or want to spend more time with them. That feeling had always eluded her and she wondered if maybe her expectations were just too high. Perhaps she watched too many movies, wanted that romance that films portrayed so well.
Most of the men she’d dated had seemed nice at first, and most were very good-looking—Shelby had never had any troubles attracting handsome men. But, after a few dates, the lure of their looks faded into oblivion, because their personalities and intellects seemed flat. It was something they all seemed to have in common—just not much going on, empty suits. And self-obsessed. She couldn’t stand being around self-obsessed people. And it seemed as if more and more people she met these days had that despicable quality.
So, she decided that she’d rather be alone by herself, than alone with someone.
Shelby was thirty-two years old and the biological clock was ticking away. She wanted children in her life, but it had to be with the right father. She wasn’t one of those women who was content to be a single mother; she believed strongly that a child needed both mother and father figures. Shelby was just old-fashioned that way.
She sighed and looked at her menu. There were so many items to choose from—she’d been coming here for two years now and still hadn’t tried all the entrees. The coffees were to die for, but the milkshakes were so good that they were worth killing for. And the creativity that went into every meal. It wasn’t just a meal at Sunshine; it was darn pretty, too, and she loved that.
She knew the owner—a pretty blonde woman named Sarah. Shelby knew that every night back at home after a long day at the cafe, poor Sarah would be cooking chickens, and then bringing them in the next day to be prepared for that day’s meals. Chicken was a popular item—Sarah had no choice but to cook tons of them because that was what the customers wanted. And she also did all the baking—all of the creative cakes that brought Sunshine such notoriety were her creations. She was one busy woman.
Shelby felt a tap on her shoulder. Another woman she knew in the café, and in fact her favorite. Ali was her name, and she not only greeted and served her favorite customers, but she also did a lot of the cooking in the kitchen. The special stuff, the gourmet stuff, the pretty stuff.
“You’re looking radiant today, Shelby!” Ali leaned down and gave her a hug, and a kiss on both cheeks. A British tradition, and Ali was as British as they came. Shelby always looked forward to seeing Ali—she made her day. Always happy, always willing to take the time to ask about her life…and actually listened, too, which was a rarity these days.
“Thanks, Ali. I’m not feeling too radiant though. A couple of tough surgeries this morning—and we lost someone on the table.”
“Oh, gosh—I’m so sorry. What happened?”
Shelby wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye. “It was a little boy, defective heart valve. We replaced it with a pig’s valve, but it didn’t take. Cardiac arrest right there on the table.”
“I’m sure you all did everything you could.”
Shelby looked into her friend’s beautiful eyes and kind smile—one of those smiles that just lit up a room and touched everyone who was fortunate enough to be kissed by it.
“I know in my gut that we did—and my surgeon took it really hard, too. It’s one of those things that you never really get used to, even though it happens more often than people realize.”
Ali leaned over the table and whispered, “I’m sure that little boy is watching you right now and thanking you for trying. Don’t tell Sarah, but your lunch is on the house today. I can hear that little boy talking to me in my head—saying that you deserve a free lunch!”
Shelby smiled. “Thanks, Ali. You’ll have to let me buy you a coffee sometime.”
Ali laughed. “Rubbish to that! We’ll go have a glass of wine!”
“Okay, it’s a deal!” Shelby pointed at two items on the menu. “I’ll have these, Ali. No hurry—I have a couple of hours before my next surgery.”
With that, her friend was off like a flash into the kitchen. Shelby knew that Ali would prepare the meal herself—she wouldn’t trust it to anyone else. That always made Shelby feel special. After what had happened at the hospital that morning she needed to feel something different than the desperation she’d felt in the operating theatre when they’d been trying in vain to revive that little boy. His cute pixie face was one she’d never forget.
Shelby pulled her phone out of her purse and started checking her messages. Ali came back and served her coffee, to help tide her over until the meal arrived.
She smiled when she saw her messages. There was one from Nate Morrell. Just five simple words: How about that coffee sometime? She lifted her eyes from the screen and gazed off into space. And thought to herself. Should I? She smiled again when she silently answered in the affirmative.
Suddenly, she wasn’t alone with her thoughts anymore.
He was just there. She’d been off in such a daydream about Nate that she hadn’t even noticed him taking the empty seat across from her.
He didn’t smile, didn’t introduce himself, didn’t even say ‘hello.’ He was just…there. Shelby shivered.
She managed to find the words. “Who are you?”
He spoke. “That doesn’t matter.”
“Why are you sitting here? There are plenty of empty tables.”
He rubbed his left hand over his right, which is when she noticed the ring. A big ring, unique, adorning the third finger of his right hand. And his hands were big—wide and strong, with wrists to match. With his broad shoulders and barrel chest, he looked like he’d been an athlete in his younger years. He was dressed all in black, which added to the sinister look. The man’s head was bald and he wore the strangest glasses. Tinted lenses connected to frames that were wide near the front and then split into two prongs which joined together again as they reached his tiny ears. But, even with the tinted lenses, she could tell that his eyes were as black as midnight.
“We need to talk, Ms. Sutcliffe.”
Frowning, she asked, “How do you know my name?”
He didn’t blink. He just stared right through her. Shelby shivered again. This man was giving her the most horrible feeling.
“You need to join the Class Action lawsuit.”
“Are you a lawyer?”
He ignored her question. “The action may not succeed without your testimony.”
“I don’t know why this is any business of yours.”
Ali arrived with her lunch—eggs benedict and a side salad. She turned her attention to Shelby’s lunch guest—a puzzled look on her face. “Excuse me, but would you like to order something, sir? I could make a recommendation if you’re in a hurry.”
The stranger answered with his eyes still boring into Shelby’s. “No, nothing for me.”
Ali hesitated, then turned her attention to Shelby. “Is…everything okay?”
Shelby hesitated for a second, and said, “I don’t know this man, Ali.”
Ali took a step closer to the table. “Sir, perhaps you might be happier at another café?”
He turned his head and looked directly into Ali’s eyes. With a voice laced with menace, he said, “Leave us for five minutes. I have something important to propose to Ms. Sutcliffe. In five, I promise I’ll be gone.”
Ali looked at Shelby, a question in her eyes. Shelby felt that shiver again, but something made her nod to Ali in reassurance. She didn’t want her involved in this, whatever ‘this’ was. Ali grimaced, looked at her watch and then back at the stranger. “Okay, five minutes. I’m timing you.” Shelby watched as Ali strode confidently back to the kitchen. Despite the unsettling experience she was going through with this dark stranger, she felt comforted by Ali’s confidence. She knew that Ali would look out for her, as she pro
bably did for all of her friends.
She turned her attention back to the stranger. “I don’t understand why this is any business of yours, but I’ve chosen not to join the action.”
“That would be a big mistake. The action has to succeed—there are many families depending on it.”
“My testimony wouldn’t help. I already discussed this with the lawyer, Dwayne Feinstein. He wanted me to testify that the lap bars became disengaged at the time of impact. That’s not what happened—those bars became unlocked before the train hit the split in the track.”
His eyes became even darker. “No, that’s not what happened. They became disengaged when the train hit the broken track. That’s what you’ll testify to.”
Shelby held her head high, indignant. “I’ll do no such thing. That would be a lie. And I think I would know—I’m the only one alive who knows what happened.”
The man pulled a checkbook out of his suit pocket. “What will it take to change your mind? I’ll write you a check right now to make it worth your while. Name it.”
Shelby couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This man, whoever he was, was offering to bribe her to testify to an untruth. And why did this make all that much of a difference? She didn’t understand why this was such an issue. They could still try to make their case just based on the broken track itself. If she stayed silent on the issue, no one would know that there was something strange about the accident.
“I don’t want your money. I won’t be bought off to lie. You’ve chosen the wrong woman, whoever you are.”
A big hand reached across the table and grabbed hers. She tried to pull it away but his grip intensified. A thumb slid underneath her wrist and started pressing hard on the area where her pulse was. To anyone watching, it would look like they were just holding hands, but for Shelby, the man’s thumb was beginning to exert excruciating pain in an area where she never imagined she would experience such pain.
“I don’t think I’ve chosen the wrong woman. I think you have a price like every woman does. And I think you’ll make the right choice.”