TSUNAMI STORM

by David Capps

  “Fifty one percent?” Willa questioned.

  “Yep,” Jason replied. “That’s all it will take. If you can get 51% of the people of Dolphin Beach to participate in the practice evacuation, it will work. You will save the people of Dolphin Beach.”

  Willa tapped her fingers on her desk nervously as she thought, her eyes unfocused as her mind imagined the practice run and how many people would actually take part. “It might work.”

  “It will work,” Jason confirmed. “We need to make it a fun event. We can have traffic cones placed where debris fields will be. Some areas will be taped off where dead ends will form. We can have a picnic at the safety place – reward everyone who participates.”

  Willa sat back in her chair, looking at the ceiling. “A picnic as a reward?” She sat up and looked directly into Jason’s eyes. “You should be in politics.”

  Jason laughed. “It’s my dad,” he replied. “You don’t get to be the biggest architectural firm in L.A. without being political and knowing people inside and out. I grew up with all of the motivational events my dad’s company put together. It’s just how you get things done.”

  “Okay,” Willa said. “This can work. I’m going to need Chief Dolan and the pastor of the local church on board, plus the ladies from the quilting bee circle and the ceramics club. We can do this. I’ll need about two weeks to get it all set up. Will that work for you?”

  “Sure,” Jason said. “That’ll give me time to get the next two towns analyzed and their presentations made. Just as here, I make my presentations on a Saturday, so can we have the practice run on a Sunday afternoon?”

  “A practice run, a walk up the hill and a picnic?” she said. “Perfect plan for a Sunday afternoon.” She shook hands with Jason to seal the deal. The only remaining problem was what she was going to do about Frank.

  CHAPTER 18

  Office of Covert Operations, the Pentagon

  Billingsly watched the daily reports for the new facility in China with trepidation. The heavy rain had to be slowing them down, but the cloud cover also meant that clear visuals of what was being built couldn’t be seen. It cut both ways. What did work were the Infra-red scans of the area. They weren’t focused like a true visual image was, but it did show hundreds of heat producing machines and equipment in use around the clock.

  After ten days of clouds and rain, Billingsly sent an order to the Alaska A4 facility to change the weather pattern over the Chinese facility and let the clouds clear out. He needed to see exactly what the Chinese were accomplishing. The original HAARP facility in Gakona, Alaska consisted of 180 phased array antennas spread out over 35 acres of gravel covered land. The new A4 facility was in the wilderness area southwest of Fort Yukon, Alaska, and covered 3500 acres with 18,000 antennas. The antenna field measured 2 and 3/16 miles by 2 and 1/2 miles. It was the largest, most powerful facility of its kind in the world. Twenty-four hours later, Billingsly got his first visual of the Chinese facility.

  His hands shook and his heart pounded in his chest. It was a good thing he had been sitting; otherwise Rod Schneider from the NRO might have had to pick him up off the floor. What appeared to be laid out as the antenna field was four miles by five miles, nearly four times the size of the A4 facility in Alaska. The entire perimeter was being cleared and foundations were being dug for two rows of what were probably power generating plants. A third area was being blasted out of the side of a mountain, with 80 rock-crushing machines in full operation to produce the gravel for the antenna field.

  “The area that is being blasted out is considerably deeper than anything else,” Rod Schneider said. “At first we thought they just needed that amount of gravel, but it would be easier to take down more of the mountain than to go deeper. We think they are building an underground tank farm to store fuel oil for the generators.”

  “Yeah,” Billingsly replied. “It makes them a lot more secure against attacks, or just plain accidents.”

  “They’re also building a railroad,” Schneider noted. “Probably for tank cars transporting fuel.”

  “Of course they are,” Billingsly replied dryly. “What’s your estimate for completion of the facility?”

  “Well, they’ve gotten this far in thirteen days. Best guess is they will be operational in another two months.”

  Billingsly shook his head. “It took us two years to build our new facility, and that was a priority project. You’re saying the Chinese will build something four times the size in less than three months?”

  “They’re pouring every resource they have into this. My personal assessment is that they have north of 30,000,000 people involved in this project. I don’t know what happened, but I can tell you the Chinese are extremely motivated. Frankly, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “The two month time frame: How much longer will it take them with the heavy rain they have been getting?”

  “The two months is with the rain. Six weeks with dry weather.”

  Billingsly was lost in his own thoughts when Schneider left. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but some things just had to be done, no matter what. He pressed the button on his intercom. “Judy, get me a face-to-face with SecDef, ASAP.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she responded.

  There was never a good day for a high level ass chewing, and today wasn’t going to be an exception.

  CHAPTER 19

  Dolphin Beach, Oregon

  Willa didn’t know exactly why she came into the office today; it was Saturday. She fussed with some papers on her desk and went over the plans for the practice evacuation one more time. Mostly she was nervous. Several of her friends had informed her that Frank Gillis was planning a huge demonstration tomorrow during the evacuation practice. Why he couldn’t just leave well enough alone she didn’t know. The thought of another emotional confrontation with Frank was just too upsetting. The frustration she was experiencing in having to battle Frank in addition to running the administration of Dolphin Beach was getting to be too much to handle. She looked out the glass window in her office across the main room in City Hall and saw Chief Dolan in the Police Office looking back at her. He looked concerned. Feeling self-conscious, she left.

  She turned to her right as she left City Hall and headed north through the Village Center. She stopped at Saundra’s Bakery and picked up a Cherry Pie. She continued north and a little east to the corner of Conifer Street where her bungalow was located on the southeast corner. Her home was a small, two bedroom structure built just after World War II with a single bath, small kitchen and moderately-sized living room.

  She unlocked the door, went in, closed the door and walked straight to the kitchen. She took the pie out of the box and popped it into the oven, setting the timer and the heat to warm it. She checked the freezer and pulled the half gallon of French Vanilla ice cream out to soften up. It should be just right about the time the pie was warmed through. She started a pot of coffee, went into the living room and turned on the TV. She watched for thirty seconds and turned the TV off. She went back into the kitchen to check on the pie and the ice cream. Still not ready.

  Willa was startled by the knock on her front door. She took a peek out her front window. It was Chief Dolan. She opened the door and welcomed him in.

  “I decided to come by and check on you,” he said. “You’re a lot like my mom. She would be a nervous wreck right now, so I thought you could use someone to talk to.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she replied. “I just get so upset with Frank that I can’t think straight.”

  Chief Dolan nodded. “He does that intentionally. He baits people to get them angry, and then he uses their anger to manipulate them. Frank understands anger; it’s his primary emotion. What you have to do is remain calm in the face of his anger.”

  “I don’t think I can do that,” she replied. “He’s just… just so frustrating that I can’t help myself.”

  “I understand,” Chief Dolan said. “Both my parents were the same way. It’s ju
st that my police training and experience gives me a different view of situations like this.”

  “Frank is going to ruin our practice evacuation tomorrow.” The timer on the oven rang. She looked into the kitchen. “I’ve got cherry pie, French vanilla ice cream and coffee if you’re interested.”

  Chief Dolan smiled. “An offer I can’t refuse.”

  She served the pie ala mode and poured two cups of coffee. They sat at the kitchen table.

  “Yeah, when I heard about Frank’s demonstration tomorrow I thought you could use some support,” he said.

  “I could,” she replied. “Thanks.”

  “I know you think you have to handle Frank tomorrow because you’re the mayor,” he said. “But I want you to consider that even though his demonstration tomorrow is political in nature, the way to handle it is through public safety. It becomes political only if you make it political.”

  “But it is political,” she replied. “That’s the only reason he’s doing this.”

  “And that’s the reason you need to stay out of it. Look, the election in November isn’t his to win; it’s yours to lose. The people like you, the season’s going well, and he can’t beat you unless you give it away to him. I’m just suggesting that you don’t cooperate with him. Stay out of it. Let me handle Frank.”

  She tapped her fork against the plate several times, thinking. “You don’t think people will see me as being weak if I don’t confront Frank?”

  “No,” he replied. “I think people will see you as being stronger than Frank if you ignore him.”

  She sliced off a slender piece of ice cream and slid it on top of the cherry pie, “That would be stronger?” she asked, cutting off a piece of pie and putting it in her mouth.

  “Anger is easy,” he said. “Inner peace is difficult. It’s one of the things they taught us in the police academy. The way to control an angry person isn’t to join him in his anger; it’s to balance out his anger with peace and calm. The angrier the person is, the calmer we have to be in response. It’s not an issue of force – it’s an issue of control. The one with the most self-control wins.”

  “So you think Frank is doing this just to get me upset so he can be in control?”

  “That’s exactly what I think,” he replied.

  “And you think this is going to work?”

  “It has for the last dozen or so years. It’ll work tomorrow. Just you wait and see.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Office of Covert Operations, the Pentagon

  Billingsly studied the large map of fault lines that covered the planet like an intricate spider’s web. Very few places in the world were immune to earthquakes. It was just a matter of where and how devastating they would be.

  “Okay,” Billingsly said quietly to himself. “Sichuan, China was too obvious, so something smaller. But it has to be close to something nuclear. I don’t want them to miss the message.” He cross referenced Iran’s nuclear facilities with the fault lines. He chuckled to himself: Iran has dozens of fault lines that run through the country, many of them perilously close to their nuclear facilities. How smart did you have to be, after all?

  He reminded himself that our own San Onofre nuclear power plant was built right next to the San Andreas Fault line. It was currently being decommissioned, but it ran for decades where it could have been easily damaged or destroyed by an earthquake. Back then, of course, no one knew how to artificially trigger an earthquake, but Billingsly knew exactly how to do that now. Hindsight always paints a much clearer picture.

  Iran claimed that all of its nuclear ambitions were for peaceful, civil purposes, yet Iran had only one civilian nuclear power generating plant, and that was built by the Russians. No other civilian plants were being constructed. That incongruence needs to be brought forcefully to Iran’s attention. He went through the data on each of the fault lines calculating how far the fault line was from the Bushehr Nuclear Power Plant, how deep the rupture zone would be, and what amount of damage would result. The area had a 6.7 Magnitude earthquake late last year in Kaki, 60 miles away, but it was too far from the Bushehr Plant to cause any damage to the plant itself. No. This would have to be closer. His finger followed the fault line across the map that was closest to the Bushehr Plant. It entered the sea at the city of Bandar Bushehr. He tapped his finger on the map and smiled. This will do. The target area was sparsely populated but the main effect would be felt where the Bushehr Plant was located. There and in the gulf city of Bandar Bushehr. He prepared the encoded document for the A4 facility in Alaska with the usual directions to destroy any record of the operation immediately after executing the order. He sent the order and went about the rest of his day.

  * * *

  Billingsly woke to the alarm set for 2:45 AM. Jessica rolled over and looked at him, sleep still heavy in her eyes.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Shhh,” he said quietly, “it’s nothing. Go back to sleep, I’ll be right back.”

  She rolled back over and he went downstairs and tuned the TV to the British News. This had become a ritual for him. He knew the U.S. media wouldn’t carry the news immediately after the event and would do only a minimal job of reporting after the fact. The British News, however, had interests in the area and would provide sufficient coverage of the earthquake. The event would take place at noon in Iran, which would be three in the morning in Washington, DC. It would be eight in the morning in London and would hit the prime time news slot for the British News.

  At 3:07 AM, the first mention of the earthquake hit the British News desk. Billingsly chuckled. He felt very satisfied being able to wield this kind of power. He called it Thor’s Hammer, named after the mythical Norse God whose hammer could cause earthquakes. At 3:13 AM, the first mention of the Bushehr Nuclear Power Plant was made. Some damage to the power plant was reported.

  “Yes,” Billingsly shouted as he clapped his hands together. “Message delivered.”

  He smiled as he watched the rest of the news. Initial reports indicated seven people were dead and up to thirty people were injured.

  “Okay,” Billingsly said. “Now they will take negotiations with us more seriously.”

  Billingsly rationalized what he was doing. After all, when France and Germany pulled out of the NATO operation in Afghanistan, he had used the A4 facility in Alaska to punish them by moving the Jet Stream so it would bring polar air down over Europe. That’s why they’d had record cold and heavy snow fall there for the last three winters.

  Billingsly smiled and spoke quietly to himself, “When you are the only Super Power, you don’t have allies – you have minions. That’s what real power is all about. You don’t negotiate, you don’t compromise, you dictate, and you punish those who don’t comply.” Billingsly turned the TV off and headed back up to the bedroom.

  CHAPTER 21

  Dolphin Beach, Oregon

  Willa and Jason spent Sunday morning setting up traffic cones where expected debris fields would be. Willa had to borrow 500 orange cones from the Oregon Department of Transportation. DO NOT CROSS police tape was strung across the Village Center, marking it as a dead end zone. Jason marked arrows on the streets and sidewalks with blue chalk so people could follow the evacuation route more easily.

  At precisely one in the afternoon Willa watched people come out of their homes and follow the blue arrows. That’s also when she saw Frank and his followers appear carrying signs and shouting, “Hell no. We won’t go.” Frank and his followers stood across the narrow part of the evacuation route and blocked the entire street so no one could pass.

  “Frank, what are you doing?” Chief Dolan asked.

  “I’m saving the city money,” Frank responded. “This whole thing is a waste of time and critically needed funds. Nothing is going to happen; I can guarantee it.”

  “You can guarantee it?” Chief Dolan replied.

  “I can guarantee it,” Frank reaffirmed. “Look, everyone in the city is going to be long dead and buried
before anything happens to Dolphin Beach. Everything you and Willa are doing is a waste of time. The city can’t afford to be doing this, and look at what it’s doing to our tourists. Not only are you spending money we don’t have, you’re costing every business in town customers by disrupting our tourism and businesses with this farce of a tsunami scare. It’s irresponsible, Dolan. It’s criminally irresponsible.”

  Willa stood on the sidelines and fumed. By agreement with Chief Dolan, she was letting Dolan handle any confrontation with Frank.

  “You can’t block the street, Frank. Clear out now or I’ll have to arrest you,” Chief Dolan said in a loud voice, “and everyone else who blocks the street,” he said, shouting at the crowd holding signs. “Clear the street, NOW.”

  Willa grew more anxious as Frank stood directly in front of Chief Dolan and stared directly into his eyes.

  “Okay, Frank, have it your own way,” Chief Dolan replied as he took out his handcuffs and arrested Frank. Willa glanced at the two young deputies as they arrived. She wrung her hands together as another person took Frank’s place in the center of the street. When he was arrested, another man stepped up. As he was arrested and placed in handcuffs, no one else took his place in the street. Willa breathed a deep sigh of relief. The crowd parted and the people of Dolphin Beach continued their trek, with the crowd shouting, “Hell no. We won’t go. Hell no. We won’t go.” She watched nervously as the people of Dolphin Beach and some of the tourists followed the blue arrows up the hill and to the picnic the City of Dolphin Beach had provided.