‘When will that be?’
‘We’ve started. We’ve already got some uninvited guests we’ve locked up.’
Douglas stared at him. ‘You mean you even got a jail here?’
‘Well, it’s not really a jail. However, nobody can get in or out without codes and passes.’
‘Oh? Just who are these uninvited guests?’
‘Just some people we thought might let the cat out of the bag. They’re lucky really. They’re safe.’
‘What if it’s all just a scare?’
Worth slurped his coffee. ‘You sound sceptical.’
‘It’s just that Peterson and the Secretary for the Navy think it’s a load of rubbish.’
‘Let them think what they like. The President’s not taking any chances, despite Peterson’s opposition. They’ll thank us after it.’
‘You sound sure.’ Douglas said leaning back and slipping his fingers under his belt.
‘This guy Torrens has staked everything on it. My gut tells me he’s not stupid. If it doesn’t happen he’ll lose his government contract along with his boat, and his reputation.’
***
After an excellent lunch of prime rib served with a bottle of crisp Californian wine, they returned to the reception centre to rejoin the real world.
‘Before we go I want to show you the ops centre.’
Worth led the way through double doors into a spacious room fitted out like a space rocket launch centre. Computers and television displays formed banks around the perimeter of the room, and there were two separate areas sectioned off by glass-panelled walls. Douglas looked at the television displays. Several were monitoring the areas inside Rockwell where he had just travelled, and he watched with fascination as others panned over the country outside, highlighting the Washington Monument in the distance, and the Potomac River, curling like a black snake on it’s journey around the flat terrain.
‘Must be mighty powerful cameras.’ Douglas quipped. ‘The White house must be two hundred miles from here.’
‘Satellites. Gives us a bird’s eye view doesn’t it?’ Worth said. ‘There’s a shit load of testing gear out there, but most of it’ll be useless in a flood.’
Douglas spread his arms and gestured around him. ‘You’ve got a full-blown surveillance system here. Must’ve cost the earth.’ Douglas said. ‘How did they hide the expenditure?’
‘The way they spend money it wasn’t hard. A few mill here, a few there. Who’s to notice?’
‘Seems a little callous, all that money to save the lives of a privileged few.’
‘Why should you worry? You’re one of those privileged few. Don’t go getting a bloody conscience on me now, or would you rather be left out there?’
‘No. I didn’t mean to imply that I disapprove. It’s usually only people with money who can buy their way out of things. I guess it’s not money in this case though, but power.’
‘Power’s everything Douglas, don’t forget it. You’ll soon see just how quickly money means nothing. Let’s get out of here. I’ve got some cages to rattle.’
Rockwell had been an eye-opener for General Porter and he was suddenly glad to have fallen victim to Worth’s blackmail. He imagined what it would be like outside this cosy centre after the flood, and shuddered to think of the people who would be left out there to flounder. Just one thing was worrying him. How did Worth plan to get rid of the President? He didn’t want to be party to any assassination, but if it came down to the wire he had promised Worth his support, and his future depended on carrying through with that vow. Nervous beads of sweat formed on his flushed face and he wondered what his life was going to be like living in what he knew would become a city under siege.
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
The Dulles departure lounge was so crowded Nick found it impossible to tell if anyone was following him. He kept on the move, changing seats, glancing around at the other passengers and the clock on the wall. Three television displays kept his attention, one with sports, CNN with news and daytime serials on the other. Any second he expected an iron hand to grasp him on the shoulder.
Once seated on the plane to LA he watched his fellow passengers boarding, suspicious of every glance his way, the nerves in his body taut like tight strings on a violin. When they closed the exit door he exhaled thankfully and allowed his body to slump into the seat.
Two hours later they landed in Dallas Texas. Knowing they weren’t changing planes, Nick remained in his seat arguing with the attendant who kept insisting he leave. She could see he was not going to budge and sauntered off muttering that it was against regulations. He used the time while he was waiting for the next leg of the journey to write a letter to Laura, which he would send to Josh, explaining his flight from Washington and his reasons. The cabin crew had turned off the air-conditioning, and after an hour of discomfort he was just beginning to consider adhering to the blasted regulations, when cool air wafted in and passengers began boarding for Los Angeles.
During the three hour flight he half-heartedly watched the movie screening. His mind wandered relentlessly. Bored and unable to relax, he ordered a scotch-on-the rocks, annoyed when they didn’t have Black Label. However he was a little thankful, as it made resisting the temptation to order more than two of the inferior drinks easy. A broad mix of passengers occupied every seat and he spent most of his time examining them surreptitiously, wondering if any one of them could be a CIA agent.
A small man wearing dark horn-rimmed glasses left his seat several times to stroll casually to the water dispenser. Nick remembered he had been on the first leg of the flight. He wore the usual business jack-suit that clung to a puny chest. Wasn’t that one of the CIA’s ploys? Hire tough people who appeared like they would run a mile if someone shouted at them? The man paid no attention to Nick, but he sure was thirsty.
Finally the pilot announced they were approaching Los Angeles airport and would land in thirteen minutes. He felt a little calmer but he would not feel safe until he was on that plane for Australia. After disembarking he looked for a phone check station to call Jerry’s restaurant, it was an hour since Graham would have checked in asking for any messages. He looked for the little man with the glasses but could not see him anywhere. Sure now that he had not been tailed he decided to go direct to Graham’s hotel. The past twenty-four hours had been a nightmare! He would have to call Josh too, but decided it would be better to wait until he was on the plane for Hawaii. If they traced him they could still prevent him from leaving. He was earlier than expected and did not bother to call ahead, and was more than relieved when Graham answered the door immediately.
He stood in an expensive white terry towelling robe that he wore with panache. A person on first meeting Graham could judge him to be of Italian origin.
‘G’day mate.’ Graham roared hugging Nick to his ample chest, slapping his back. ‘You finally made it. A bit mysterious aren’t we? Jerry thinks I’ve gone whacko calling there all day. He said if we don’t get over there for a meal he’ll charge me secretarial fees. What’s going on?’
‘Jerry’s right you are whacko, and his suggestion sounds like a good idea. I’m starving. I seem to be missing too many meals lately, I couldn’t eat a thing on the plane. We’ll head over there after I fill you in. That’s if you’ll still feel like eating after what I’ve got to tell you!’
The hotel room was typical of an airport stopover. It lacked the refinement the one Nick had stayed in on arriving at Washington, but it was comfortable. Graham fixed some drinks presenting Nick with his favourite as he relayed the whole nightmare. Unlike all the others, Graham listened without interruption. He had very few questions, but Nick was sure his grey hair turned a shade lighter, or was it just that his face had drained of colour?
Graham was a handsome man, not the rugged outdoors type like Nick, more refined. In his early forties with fine chiselled features that angled down to a firm square chin and of medium height with wide shoulders. P
rematurely grey-streaked hair added to his debonair appearance. The most striking thing about him was his deep throaty voice, always giving the impression he was just throwing off a bad cold. It was only on rare occasions the big smile he brandished constantly left his face, and this was one of them.
‘If I didn’t know you so well Nick I’d think you were pulling my leg, but you’re not are you?’ He rumbled quietly.
‘No! Wish I was. I’ve lived with this nightmare for weeks and it’s getting to me. I can’t sleep and I hardly notice what I’m eating anymore. Everyone’s got questions. They all want to save the world, which I s’pose is the natural reaction, but they’re paranoid about panic. I know people are going to panic. It’s natural. How on God’s earth do they think they can stop it leaking out? They’ve arrested Laura, for Christ’s sake!’
‘Jesus! Who has?’
‘The bloody CIA.’
‘No wonder you’ve been acting weird. How can she be a threat, she’s one of them?’
‘She’s a crusader mate, she’d never stand still for any underhanded tactics. When they found out that she knew, they snatched her. She’s probably locked up in some dungeon right now. Josh Harrington owes me. If anyone can find her he will.’
‘Okay, what’s the plan?’
‘They’re going to stop all international flights just before the press conference. I’ve got to get back to Australia pronto.’
‘You and me too. Mum will be worried sick when she hears the news. It’s safe in Canberra but she’ll panic knowing I’m in LA. Just as well I decided to take the flight here yesterday.’ Graham picked up his sat-phone. ‘We can take my scheduled flight tomorrow to Hawaii, and overnight. I need to fill in my manager.’
‘You can’t tell him yet.’
‘I can’t not tell him Nick, he’s a mate. I trust him. I’ve got a flight scheduled Friday for Sydney, then on to Canberra. It’s one of my usual routes, so there won’t be any questions.’
‘Is there any chance we can see the Prime Minister?’
‘Providing he’s in the country. Shouldn’t be too hard, I’ve got some contacts. What d’you want to seehim for?’
‘Oh, he’ll be in the country all right. He was advised at the World Government video conference. I think he’ll want all the information he can get.’
‘What d’your think he’ll do?’
Nick stared into his drink and swished it before downing it. ‘Same as the Yanks I think, he’s probably started evacuation plans already. Australia will be right in it’s path. I can make sure they understand the urgency, my gut tells me it’s going to happen soon.’
***
They walked to the nearest Trancab station and gave instructions for their destination.
Nick climbed into the back seat of the dual cab. To lighten the mood he chatted frivolously. ‘I thought these things wouldn’t catch on, but they’re all I see everywhere I go.’
‘They weren’t that popular until the Government banned cars from all major city streets. People had no choice but to accept them.’
‘I’d like to be the bloke who designed them, must be worth a squillion quid.’
They chatted this way for five minutes until Graham began asking questions. Nick threw back his head and clenched his fists.How many times am I going to have to go through this interrogation?He thought, longing for the Platypus and the simple pleasure of ending an eventful day with Jeremy and Sam.
Graham recognised his friend’s displeasure and fell silent for the remainder of the journey. Both men were relieved when they spotted the familiar red-and-white striped canvas awning dipping over the sturdy wrought iron tables and chairs of Jerry’s cafe. Graham announced his charge card number to the Trancab and they selected a table that once offered a first class view of the activities of Venice Beach. Nick frowned at the three-and-a-half metre concrete rampart separating them from the sea, and remembered twenty years ago, when from this vantage point one could see the blue Pacific Ocean and people lazily sun-baking on the wide white sandy beach. Graffiti scrawls and designs spread colourful scenes the entire length of the wall and one could see where additional layers of concrete had been added to the top to keep pace with the rising sea. Occasionally sea spray drifted over the wall reminding him of the danger on the other side.
A cold shiver engulfed him as he envisaged the towering waves that would consume that wall like it was made of biscuit wafer. His attention was diverted by the bizarre people darting back and forth. A tall Negro busker rumbled by on top of the two metres wide wall on roller skates strumming out a raucous tune from the guitar strapped over his shoulder. He was dressed in a bright green satin shirt with layers of several waistcoats flapping wildly in the breeze. An equally bright purple turban swathed his head making him look like something out of the Arabian nights. ‘Some things never change.’ Nick said, watching the busker.
Jerry was pleased to see them, fussing with his usual conscientiousness, and was alarmed when they picked at their favourite meals. The food was excellent as usual and he had served them himself. Instead of lingering over his excellent coffee they rose to depart soon after eating, which was not normal. He presented them with their bill and slapped his forehead. His head jerked from one to the other when they each hugged him sadly, and left without their usual promise to return. He stood wiping his hands on his bright red apron and watched them leave. They both knew this was just the beginning. They also knew it would take all their strength to say good-bye to their friends without a word of warning.
‘Can’t figure why the World Government wanted six days before telling the people?’ Graham grumbled.
‘I can. For starters, how many tents d’you reckon will be needed? Where are they going to get them on a minutes notice? Imagine how everyone will react. It was easy putting up the dykes because it was done a little at a time. This has to be done immediately. What’s Jerry going to do for instance? Er, here’s the kicker. What areyou going to do? International flights will be grounded in five days.’
‘Shit. I don’t know. I’d better get all my planes back to Australia before they do that. That’s going to take some organising. Thanks for the warning mate. Now I understand the delay in announcing this. There won’t be any bloody airports left, well very few anyway.’
Nick stopped in his tracks. ‘Never thought of that. Christ. I’ve only been thinking about saving people’s lives.
***
Thursday, June 1
At Los Angeles airport Nick shuffled behind Graham, glancing around the terminal expecting to see his pursuers everywhere. He was still wearing his jack-suit that now was wrinkled and uncomfortable, and as they made their way to the crew’s lounge he pulled the cap over his eyes. Once in the lounge he asked for the change room.’Wanna get out of this crap,’ he said, tearing off his cap to loosen his hair.
‘Right,’ said Graham. ‘You can have a shower too, you need it.’ He hiked his thumb toward a door off the lounge.
This time Graham insisted he join him in the cockpit of the 797 for the flight to Hawaii, which would give him a sense of security. The 797 was the latest fast, super quiet Boeing used on international flights, cutting flight time in half. This meant they would be in Hawaii in less than three hours. Nick wished they could fly straight on to Australia and so probably did Graham, but he did not begrudge the stopover, just wished it was over.
Nick crawled into the narrow jump seat behind the pilots where the hundreds of buttons, dials, switches and flickering lights amazed him. He wondered how a man could remember their function let alone how to use them. The co-pilot was going through the pre-flight check list to ensure all the necessary systems and equipment were working and set for takeoff, monitoring the hydraulic systems and the instrument indicators. ‘Los Angeles Tower, this is Emu 711 standing by for airways clearance. He announced.
‘Roger Emu 711 is cleared into position runway 14, cleared for takeoff. Wind from 220 degrees at 18 knots, gusting 24. Cleared to Honolulu by standard departure
route.’
With one hand steering the nose-wheel and the other on the throttles, Graham manoeuvred the big jet on its final turn onto runway 14. Nick felt the vibration increasing as Graham opened up the throttles and released the brakes. Emu 711 accelerated rapidly along the runway whilst the co-pilot calmly called instrument readings and declared ‘V2+10 Emu rotated.’ Earth rushed giddily beneath the nose, replaced by trees and sky as she pulled off the ground with four engines screaming in unison.
‘Retract undercarriage.’ Graham instructed, and the wheels thumped into their wells in the fuselage as they climbed steeply into the clouds. Banking sharply to port she presented a view of the deep cobalt sea from Nick’s window, before levelling out and continuing her long slow climb.
The same sadness they had experienced leaving Jerry overwhelmed them again as they flew over Los Angeles. From the air they could see the vast flatness of the area stretching for hundreds of kilometres, surrounded on the east by the San Gabriel Mountains and the west by the Pacific Ocean. A City of over thirty-six million souls, known as the City Of The Angels, all destined to become part of that great ocean. Graham glanced back at Nick who shook his head from side to side and grimaced.
Both pilots were busily engaged in the after-take-off check monitoring all the aircraft systems brought into use during these early stages of the climb. Nick realised he would never see Laura again, but experienced a warm feeling when he grasped the knowledge that he was really going home. His mind was becoming conditioned to accepting turmoil and he felt calmer. He watched the landscape dwindling behind the plane, reminding him of the last time he saw the Platypus in Alaska. He must call Sam who would be wondering where Nick was, and he needed to make sure they were still on course. They were going to need her more than he ever dreamed.
Graham was struggling with his thoughts as well, the concentration required for takeoff taxing his mental capacity as he was still feeling shocked by Nick’s news. He did not really want to leave America as she had given him the opportunity to build his empire. Angela and he were divorced now after a tumultuous two-year marriage, but since he had wed his Texas Rose, he felt part American. There was a bigger pull now, his roots were in Australia, as was a big part of his business. If he was to have any business left after this catastrophe.
2042: The Great Cataclysm Page 11