by Rahul Bhagat
Richard Lott took out his phone and called someone. The device was on speakerphone, so when a woman answered the call, they could all hear her.
“Rebekah, I heard you were worried about something,” Lott said.
“Richard. Hi, yes. What are we doing about that bloody detective? My lawyer says he is threatening to issue a subpoena if I don’t show up for an interview,” Rebekah said.
“Don’t worry, Rebekah. You always get scared easily,” Lott said and looked at Martin. His eyes had taken a menacing hue. “Detective Stump is right here with me, and I don’t think he is going to trouble you anymore. Are you, Mr. Stump?” he asked mockingly.
Martin saw Charlie’s arm swing from the corner of his eye, but his reflexes had become rusty in his old age. He felt a blow at the back of his head, and darkness engulfed him.
THIRTY-THREE
MARTIN WOKE UP feeling groggy, and his head throbbed with pain. He was moving. No, he was swinging. He felt disoriented, but then slowly, consciousness took hold. He was suspended in the air, facedown. Someone was holding him by the waist and walking down a spiral staircase. He turned his head sideways and saw mechanical legs of a giant bot.
“Sir, I believe the criminal is awake,” the bot said in a deep, gravelly voice, sounding like a gangster.
“Good. I’m ready for a cat-and-mouse game,” Charlie said from somewhere in the back.
Lott’s little puppy dog, Martin thought. Anger rose in his gut, and he wanted to smash Charlie’s face. He turned his head and saw Charlie and Lott following after them.
The spiral staircase ended in a vast subterranean space. It was filled with exotic vehicles, flying machines, motorcycles, gliders, and other gadgets, all neatly arranged in rows.
“What do you want me to do with the criminal, Mr. Lott?” the bot asked.
“Drop him by the exit, next to that old AV,” Charlie said.
“I take instructions only from my master,” the bot said.
“Do as Charlie says,” Lott said in a gruff voice. “What do you have in mind, Charlie? I want to put an end to this affair. This guy has already given me too much headache.”
“Just a little fun, Mr. Lott. Let me play,” Charlie said.
The bot dropped Martin on the cold polished-stone floor. He felt sharp pangs of pain rise from his still-healing ribs and felt nauseous, but this was no time for thinking about his discomfort. He wanted answers before he died. He looked up and saw Charlie’s grinning face.
“I had a high opinion of you. I seriously thought you were better than a small-time lackey,” Martin said.
Charlie kicked him in the stomach. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Martin doubled over with pain. “So, I was on the right track,” he said and looked at Richard Lott. “You orchestrated that accident, but what did you have against Paige?”
“That was unfortunate,” Lott said. He had become a different person. The man with sad eyes and a worried expression was gone, replaced by a man with a severe, cold face. “I never wanted to hurt that girl, or your girlfriend, for that matter. God knows it was a mistake,” he said.
“The target was Dean all along?” Martin asked.
“Yes,” Lott replied.
“But why use a Lott vehicle for the accident? Why put the Lott brand in jeopardy?”
“It was easier for my engineers to spoof a system they knew inside out. It was all handled smoothly, except for that fool Joshua.”
“And what role was Charlie playing in this?”
“Oh, him.” Lott looked at Charlie, and they both laughed. “He was there to make sure the investigator never figured out the real cause of the accident. He was there to set up the smokescreen, that it was a technical problem.”
“The prior map. There was a bug in the prior map,” Charlie said mockingly.
“Okay, enough,” Lott said. “Get rid of him.”
“Wait,” Martin said. “At least tell me why you wanted to kill Dean.”
“Two words—ice mining,” Lott said and turned around.
“Ice mining?” Martin repeated.
“You have no idea, do you?” Lott stopped and turned back to face Martin.
Martin shook his head. He really had no idea what Lott was talking about, except that Dean had wanted to acquire a company that, too, was into ice mining.
“Have you heard of a man named John D. Rockefeller, Detective Stump?” Lott asked.
“No.”
“Or a company called ExxonMobil?”
Martin kept silent.
“See, your general knowledge is so poor,” Lott said. He was enjoying the conversation. “Rockefeller created this company in the early part of the twentieth century that absolutely dominated production, refining, and distribution of petroleum. It’s a flammable hydrocarbon that AVs used to run on. He knew it would become the lifeblood of the economy. Whoever controlled oil business controlled the world. And to dominate the industry, he mercilessly eliminated every threat, every competition to his business. I’m doing the same.”
Martin wasn’t paying much attention to Lott. His mind was furiously trying to find a way to escape.
Lott carried on. “Now as we colonize the inner solar system and move farther out, guess what is going to fuel the expansion of human civilization.”
“What?” Martin said automatically.
“H2O, water ice, the magic fuel of space. It’s better than oil. It’s something we drink, need to grow food, use for shelter from galactic rays. Split it into hydrogen and oxygen, and you have rocket fuel, air to breathe. Whoever controls mining and distribution of water ice in space will control the solar system.”
“But Dean was no competition to you.”
“He was smart and aggressive, and he desperately wanted to expand into space. He was a threat, but I had him neutralized with Rebekah. It’s been bloody expensive to finance her lifestyle.”
“Then why get him killed?”
“That persistent SOB wasn’t giving up. He kept trying to get into space business, and Rebekah’s demands kept increasing. I had to do something.”
“But with Paige’s death, you only made it easier for him.”
“Damn right, I did!” Lott became agitated and started foaming around the corner of his mouth. “Like a fool, I led him to the holy grail of ice mining. That’s why I had to get him killed in a hurry. He was ready to sign a deal with LMCo. I couldn’t risk the chance of him getting his hands on that breakthrough technology.”
“That hit operation in Guatemala, what an amateurish job,” Charlie said with disgust.
Lott laughed. “Get over it, Charlie. I didn’t have time to tell you. It had to be done quickly, before Dean left for the moon.”
“But why didn’t you acquire the technology yourself? Why didn’t you buy LMCo?” Martin asked.
“There was no need to buy that junk company. I would have had the technology if things had gone according to plan. I should never have trusted that dimwit Roger with the job. He not only got the scientist killed but also couldn’t find out where the microwave generator was hidden. An absolute disaster.”
Lott became extremely agitated. Martin realized he shouldn’t have asked that last question.
“Anyways, enough of this chitchat,” Lott said angrily. “Charlie, get rid of him. Make sure there are no bloodstains here.”
“Listen…” Martin attempted to extend the conversation.
“No more talking.” Charlie kicked him in the gut, and Martin folded up with pain.
“What are you planning?” Lott asked Charlie.
“I was thinking of throwing him in that AV that I’ve hot-wired for remote control,” Charlie said. “I also have a camera in there. Just want to enjoy looking at his terrified face before he plunges to his death.”
“Suit yourself.” Lott turned around and headed for the stairs.
THIRTY-FOUR
“GIVE THAT CRIMINAL a few kicks,” Charlie ordered the bot.
The bot picked up Martin,
punched him in the face, and then landed a few more quick blows on the body.
“Good. Put him in that AV, and let’s go upstairs to watch the show,” Charlie said.
The bot lifted Martin and threw him in the old vehicle. Martin fell hard and felt the rough fabric of the carpet scrape his chin. It was a bare-bones AV stripped of interior furniture. The doors closed.
Martin heard Charlie’s voice from somewhere near the roof of the vehicle. He raised his head, and in one corner, he saw a thick, tubelike device with a lens staring down at him.
“Feeling cozy in there, buddy?” Charlie asked. “Now it’s time for a joyride.”
The vehicle moved with a violent jerk. Martin was thrown to the other side. He landed with a thud and groaned in pain. The AV sped through a tunnel and emerged outside on a narrow road. Windows provided a panoramic view of the surrounding mountains. The AV swerved and navigated the bends at high speed.
Every time Martin was thrown around, Charlie cheered from above. Martin would land in one corner, take a deep breath, and brace himself for the next jerk of the vehicle. It was as if he were riding with a drunken madman. One time, he tried to hold on to the door handle, but Charlie jerked the vehicle so hard that Martin’s hand slipped, and he was thrown around.
Then Martin noticed the emergency override button, and he summoned all his strength to get up and press the button. There was no response.
Charlie’s laughter boomed from the speakers. “Emergency override is not going to work, buddy. I have full control,” he said.
Martin closed his eyes and tried to visualize Julie. He wondered if there was a heaven. Thoughts raced through his mind. He recalled a fragment of his conversation with Julie. Didn’t she say we’ll be in heaven together? What if she was right? Maybe there really is a heaven. Am I going to see her when I die?
In that moment, Martin, a staunch atheist, desperately wanted to believe in heaven. He had a sudden urge to say goodbye to those he cared about. He felt for his phone and was tossed again. The phone was there; they hadn’t taken it. He wanted to say goodbye to Natalie.
All of a sudden, the AV started moving smoothly. He heard faint voices overhead.
“What?” Charlie said to someone.
“Mr. Lott wants to see you,” another voice said.
“Why?”
Martin couldn’t make out what the other voice said.
“No, I’m not done playing with the detective. What’s the urgency?” Charlie sounded testy.
A moment later, Charlie’s voice boomed through the speaker again. “Okay, buddy, catch your breath. I’ll be back soon.”
And then there was silence. The vehicle moved smoothly. Martin quickly took out the phone and called Natalie.
“Martin, where the hell have you been?” Natalie said angrily.
“No time to explain,” he said. “I’m in an AV. Remotely controlled. It will plunge down the mountain any moment. You’re a good kid. Wish you were my daughter. Just wanted to say goodbye, kiddo.”
“Martin, what are you talking about?” Natalie asked.
Martin quickly told her what had happened.
Natalie, the cool-headed thinker, said, “Okay, first, get up and snatch that damn camera off the wall.”
“I can’t get up.” Martin groaned.
“Move your tired old body!” Natalie screamed through the phone.
Martin summoned all his strength and got up. Immense pain shot through his body. But he was able to remove the device from the ceiling.
“Snap a picture of it and send it to me,” Natalie said.
“What are you doing?” Martin asked.
“It’s connected to the internet, so it has an IP address. Once I have the model, paired with your location, I can find this camera on the internet and highjack it. Drooper is very good and very fast at such work.”
Martin remembered that Drooper was Natalie’s personal digital assistant, and she had groomed it with additional skills. He did as instructed.
Minutes passed. Martin started worrying that Charlie would come back any moment. Then Natalie’s voice came through the camera device.
“What happened to your face? These guys are savages,” she said. She could see him through the camera; she had taken control of the device.
Martin felt elated. Maybe he would live to see another day. “Take control of the vehicle. Take control of the vehicle,” he said with urgency.
“Not that easy,” Natalie said from the other end. “The remote controller is hardened—”
Suddenly the AV started swerving wildly.
“Hey, what do I do?” Martin said, but there was no response from Natalie. The vehicle increased its speed and started scraping against the rock. Luckily, the section of the road was carved through a giant piece of rock, so the vehicle could only move one way—forward.
“Okay, okay. End the call,” Natalie’s voice came through the phone.
“Why?”
“Hang up. I’m going to turn your phone into a scanner. I need to know the frequency at which his remote controller is communicating with the vehicle. Then I’ll turn your phone into a frequency jammer. If the remote is disabled, the AV will assume control, and the emergency override will start working. Just answer the phone every time it rings.”
Martin disconnected the call. By this time, the vehicle had crossed the section through the rock, but luckily, there was a retaining wall on the other side that kept the vehicle on the road. The AV swerved wildly as it zigzagged forward.
The phone rang. Martin immediately picked up the call, but there was nothing but a hissing sound. The phone automatically disconnected. A moment later, it rang again. Martin again picked up the call. He glanced outside. The retaining wall was going to end in less than a hundred feet, and beyond that, there was nothing but empty space between the road and the valley below.
He looked down at the phone. It was on but totally silent. Martin closed his eyes and got ready for his last moment. Memories flooded his mind. And then all of a sudden, the vehicle started moving smoothly, almost serenely. It slowed down and gracefully followed the contours of the road.
Martin dragged himself and hit the emergency override button. The AV came to a gentle stop by the side of the road.
He tumbled outside. The cool breeze on his face felt so good.
THIRTY-FIVE
AFTER NATALIE ALERTED the FBI, it didn’t take the bureau even half an hour to track down Dr. Joshua Mousse. A warrant was never issued for him, and he was caught without incident at home, watching television. Dr. Mousse confessed everything and agreed to cooperate with the investigation. He put the blame squarely on Richard Lott. Everything he did was under direct orders from Mr. Lott.
In the meantime, the FBI’s Colorado office had dispatched a crack team to Richard Lott’s lair. On their way, one of the helicopters from the flight peeled away to pick up Martin Stump from the desolate mountain road.
Richard Lott was arrested on the runway, trying to flee in his hyperplane. Catching Charlie Doud took longer. He was eventually found hiding behind the waterfall in the garden.
*
Detective Martin Stump knelt on the grass in front of Julie’s grave and brushed aside leaves that had collected on the stone. He placed a bouquet of begonias on top.
“Your favorite flowers, Julie,” he said. “I kept the promise. Your killers are going to jail.”
He spent some time thinking and talking to Julie. He had found a new purpose in life. In his quest to bring justice to her murderers, he had found a new wellspring of energy. He was going to keep fighting crime. That was what he was going to dedicate his life to.
His mind made up, he got up and walked back toward the elevators. The corridor was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, and stretched out fifty floors below was the resplendent city at night.
His stride was long and purposeful. On his ride down in the elevator, he decided to make an appointment with a body rejuvenation specialist. He would need upgrades if
he was going to keep fighting crime.
# END #
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Copyright © 2019 by Rahul Bhagat
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, organizations and events in the book are fictitious and a product of author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Edition: 2019