“Where to, Detective?” The uniform asked.
Cyrus didn’t respond. He had taken the blanket and wrapped himself up in it and fallen asleep.
“The Beachside Condos in Carpentaria,” Briana said. “I’ll show you which one when we get there. I have got to get him into some dry clothes before he freezes to death.”
Chapter 17
Cyrus woke up wearing dry, warm, clothes in a dry, warm, bed. As he examined the cuts on the palms of his hands, the smell of bacon caught his attention. The next moment, his spirit was livened by the sight of Briana, wearing a heavy, plaid, bathrobe and a light blue, towel wrapped around the top of her head. Briana had pushed open the bedroom door with her body while carrying a tray and entered the room. She leaned over and set a plate of bacon and eggs down across his lap. Before he could pick up his fork and start eating, she grabbed her Glock off the tray. She placed her free hand on his cheek and said, “You look much better now.”
“Thanks for the breakfast. Where am I?” As he waited for an answer, he picked up his coffee and took a sip.
“I had the patrolman take you to my condo,” Briana said, “He helped me get you to my guest room and change you out of your wet clothes.”
“I bet that was a workout.”
“It was not that bad, we just had to steady you while you walked.”
“I must have been sleep-walking,” he said. He nodded his head toward the Glock she was holding, “You expecting company?”
“Moon knows I betrayed him. He has killed three other informants. I don’t plan to be number four.” Briana’s face turned grim and her voice trembled as she spoke.
Cyrus noticed that her eyes were red and baggy. He was about to inform her of the three other murders Moon had committed, but decided she was frightened enough, so he didn’t. Instead he said, “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“I slept until the patrolman left a few hours ago.”
“Duncan is long gone by now and Moon’s probably out in the back country looking for refuge-at least for a while. I think you’re safe.”
Briana shook her head. She walked over by the bureau sitting next to the wall nearby and picked up a chair. She set it down by the bed, and then she sat down with a sigh.
“You do not know Moon like I do,” she said, “Once he gets his mind focused on doing something, he does not stop until it’s done. That was his trademark as a scientist at Stanford as well. Everyone said that they knew of no one who would work as long and as tirelessly as Moon on a problem. And right now, I am his problem.”
“How’d they figure out you were FBI?”
“I think Moon saw me searching around the workbench they have in their garage.” She reached into the pocket of her bathrobe and pulled out a thin, square of grey, rubbery substance half the size of a dollar bill. She held up the plastic square and said, “But he didn’t see me snatch this. What do you guess this to be?”
Cyrus set down his coffee, and took the small object from her. He studied it for several minutes and then said, “It’s a type of C4 explosive, but it’s not the right color or thickness. I would guess it was something special; something only a nation-state could produce that had to be registered in accordance with the 1996 UN anti-terrorism law. I would guess that to be an illegally produced and unregistered piece of D-E-T, a highly potent plastique developed for underwater demolition.”
“You know a lot about explosives.”
“I was in the Army.”
“This is a beyond Moon’s capability,” Briana said.
“I thought he was some kind of whiz kid who could do anything.”
“I mean it is beyond his financial capability. He has neither the contacts nor the money to pull off a stunt involving weapons grade explosives. Someone very powerful is funding his next operation, whatever it is.”
Cyrus set the piece of DET on his tray and then took a sip of coffee. He set the cup down, picked up the DET again. “What kind of scientist was Moon when he was at Stanford?” he said, while studying the DET.
“How do you mean?”
“Would you say he was a theorist or a practical type?”
“Practical, he always told us that most, if not all good, new, theory came from practical experience.”
“Do you know if he can weld?”
“He can weld; he had a fully functioning work shop and many times I remember him working with the welding torch. Why?”
“He torched my squad car,” Cyrus said, and then he held the DET out to her, “And he killed a good friend of mine with this stuff. He badly hurt Max, and then he almost killed you. I am going to get him.”
Holding the Glock with both hands, Briana jumped up from her chair and said, “I think I better call Special Agent Drisco and report in. This is getting out of hand. Moon is planning something major. There could be hundreds even thousands of innocent people killed.”
Cyrus swallowed down a piece of egg, raised his fork at Briana and said, “Wait, think about it, Briana. If you go to your boss they’re going to send in SWAT teams and special units and set up makeshift headquarters, everywhere. They’ll turn Moon’s hideout inside out and scare the hell out of everyone.”
“Good, they have got the expertise and manpower to do the job.”
“They’ve got the manpower and expertise to screw this up. What do think Moon and Duncan will do as soon as they find out the FBI is on to them?”
“They will go away, and we will all be safe.”
“Safe? For how long? A few days, weeks, a couple of months tops, until the FBI finds some other crisis to focus on and forgets him. And the whole time you’ll be worrying about him getting his revenge. No, Briana we need to get them both now-you and me. We can catch this guy and stop him.”
“I do not know Cyrus, what if-”
“It’s the only way,” Cyrus said as he slammed down his fork with a bang. “Otherwise you’ll be thinking you see this guy everywhere you go. And you’ll never know if he’s torched your car axle, or planted a bomb in a package you just received, or set you up to get shot.”
Before Cyrus finished, Briana set the Glock on the end of the bed and placed her hands over her ears, “You better finish your breakfast before it is cold,” she said.
Cyrus nodded and the put another piece of egg in his mouth.
Briana picked up the nine mike, “I’m going to get dressed,” she said.
Cyrus finished his breakfast so quickly he couldn’t remember eating it. Never had a simple meal of eggs, bacon, and toast tasted so good to him. Putting the tray aside, he lay back down and fell asleep.
An hour later, Briana returned dressed, in a pair of overalls and wool, plaid shirt, she was carrying a pair of faded, worn, jeans and large, long sleeve shirt in her arms. She set the clean clothes on the bed and said, “Your clothes from last night were ripped pretty badly. I had to toss them. Max is on his way over with the squad car, he picked it up from Rincon Pier this morning.”
“Max! He should be in the hospital. A rattlesnake bite is a very serious trauma-”
“He told me it was a dry bite, only a small amount of venom entered his blood stream. They released him this morning and the patrolman told him where you where. He called while you were still sleeping.”
“That’s great. When he gets here, we’ll go back to La Conchita and checkout Moon’s hideout.”
Briana nodded. “I better get ready,” she said, heading for the door, “I’ve got to clean out my firearm. You better check your weapon, too. I am sure thirty minutes of rolling it around in the ocean and sand was not good for it.”
“I thought you said it was only five-” Before Cyrus could finish, she closed the door.
Dressed and waiting in the living room for Briana, Cyrus had on a pair of one-size too small jeans that belonged to the former tenant, a long sleeve dress shirt and a pair of low top basketball shoes. He looked more like a senior citizen about to go pier fishing than a Santa Barbara homicide detective.
Just as he finished cleaning his revolver, Cyrus heard a car pull up in front of the cottage. Walking over to the window beside the front door, he parted the curtains, and peered out between them. The sight of the black Dodge squad car barely visible through the fog raised his spirits. He heard two car doors slam and spotted two figures, one tall and lean, the other one a nearly a foot shorter, and much broader across the shoulders, heading for the front door. Cyrus opened it and let Dana Mathers, followed by Max, into the living room. The coolness of the morning breeze encouraged him to quickly close it behind them.
“What’s he doing here?” Cyrus asked Max. Smiling, he shook Dana’s hand, and said, “Hello.” Dana nodded.
“Rudy’s orders,” Max replied, “He figures if we keep Dana with us, he’ll be safer that way.”
“Don’t worry, Dana, you’re not going back to jail, unless I go with you.”
“Thanks Cyrus,” Dana said.
“Hey Cyrus, you were right about Briana. Rudy and I checked her out; she is with the FBI just like you said.”
Briana walked into the living room. She stopped only a few inches from Dana and said, “Aren’t you Dana Mathers, the man I saw at Rincon Beach? I thought you were in prison?”
Before Dana could answer, Cyrus said, “He was, but I got him out. I need him as a material witness.”
“Witness for what?”
“My investigation into the sabotage of my squad car, he was with us when it happened.”
“But why do you need to bring him here? I don’t think his presence is a good idea, he is a civilian,” she said as she put her hands on her hips, “He is a convicted felon, as well. What happens if he is hurt? Don’t you keep material witnesses in jail at the police station?” Briana glared at Cyrus.
“The thing is, Briana, the law says I can keep him anywhere I want as long as he is safe and I know where he is. And as far as him getting hurt goes, that’s not a problem. He is more protection for us than the other way around; you can trust me on that.” Cyrus looked over at Max, “Isn’t that right, Max?”
Max nodded in agreement.
“But we do not need to take him with us.”
“Dana is in my protective custody and I can’t just leave him here.”
“We can drop him off at the police station.”
“There is no time for that Briana we have to get over to Moon’s hideout as soon as we can, as in right now.”
For a moment everyone was quiet. The three of them looked at Briana, like kids waiting for permission from mom to go to the movies.
“Briana, Moon’s tried to kill Dana twice already. You know the safest place for him now is with us.” Cyrus said.
“And he saved both of our lives,” Max said.
“All right,” Briana put her hands on her hips, “Dana goes with us-if you two trust, then I trust him.”
“Let’s go,” Cyrus said.
“You may want to take a look at this first.” Max took the manila notebook he had been holding under his arm and held it out to Cyrus.
“What’s this?” Cyrus said as he took the report from Max.
“It’s Dana’s report. Dana and I got it from Kelsey last night at Memorial hospital. It was a lucky coincidence; she saw the emergency techs bring me in for my snake bite treatment.”
“Where is she now?” Cyrus said.
“She is with Kwan Li in intensive care. Kelsey said someone tried to kill Kwan night before last. They were attempting to get this engineer’s notebook from her. She had been trying to reach us for the past twenty four, but-”
“Any idea who tried to take it from her?” Cyrus said.
“I talked to the security guards who chased him off. They said that he was driving a black Ford pickup and wearing a Gore mask. Just like the guy in the pickup, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.” Cyrus replied.
“Kelsey said Kwan told her about a Chinese oil company called sea knock, whatever that is,” Max continued, “She told Kelsey she was sorry she sold Dana’s report to them.”
“What’s CNOOC got to do with Dana?” Briana said.
“C, N, O, O, C, stands for the Chinese National Offshore Oil Company.” Cyrus replied. “About ten years ago they tried to buy UNOCAL and failed.”
“I heard of that,” Dana said, “but the government stopped it, didn’t they?”
“That’s right,” Cyrus said, “Chevron was able to pick up UNOCAL for almost two billion dollars less than CNOOC’s bid. The Feds decided it wasn’t a good idea to give China ownership of at least twenty percent of our known oil reserves. CNOOC was not pleased and some of their top officials wanted revenge against Chevron.” Cyrus put ran his hands through his blonde hair several times so that it stood up. Then he said, “Duncan isn’t working for any union, he’s working for CNOOC.”
Max nodded, “Oh yeah, I forgot. Kwan mentioned Duncan’s name to Kelsey. She said he was a spy working for CNOOC and she thinks he was the one who tried to kill her for the report.”
“Chinese?” Briana asked, “He doesn’t look at all Asian to me.”
“According to Kwan he is also half Russian,” Max said.
“CNOOC must be the secret stockholders trying to take over TANOCO,” Cyrus said.
“It would explain how Duncan managed to get the expensive power boat, the DET, and the MP5, wouldn’t it?” Briana said.
“But it doesn’t make sense,” Max said, “Why would a tree-hugger like Moon hook up with a Chicom agent who was working for an oil company? Moon hates oil companies.”
“Moon probably doesn’t know Duncan works for the Chinese,” Briana said, “He probably thinks he’s just a union agitator, a Wobbly, like he says he is.”
“O.K.,” Max said, “Then the same question goes the other way. Why would Duncan help Moon? What does Moon have planned that could possibly help CNOOC?”
Cyrus ran his hand through his hair and puffed it up in the middle like a Mohawk, and then he flattened it down as he paced from one side of the room to the other. After the third time of going the length of the room, he stopped and turning toward them he said, “Moon is a firebug and a saboteur. He’s also an Anarchist, and a hater of all things technological, like oil rigs. And what is the hottest environmental issue on the California Central Coast right now?”
“The moratorium,” Briana, Dana, and Max said at once.
“Then the answer is simple. Duncan is trying to unionize TANOCO, obviously with the purpose of taking over the company and getting control of Grigoryan’s special drilling technique. CNOOC would then be the only oil company capable of drilling for several miles from shore, and they would be in possession of a secret oil survey that proves there is a large oil deposit off the Santa Barbara coast that is within the range of the drill.”
“What’s Moon got to do with all that?”
“Nothing and he probably doesn’t know anything about it. Duncan is using Moon to ensure that the moratorium is extended,” Cyrus said.
“Extended? Why would an oil company want to extend the moratorium?”
“To be the only oil company pumping oil from shore. Grigoryan told me his drill can reach thirty miles off the coast,” Cyrus answered. He walked back over to where they were all standing and handed the report to Dana. “How far from shore is the oil deposit you found?” he asked.
“ The survey is not a sure thing, Cyrus,” Dana said as he thumbed through the report.
“If it’s so inaccurate, why are CNOOC and Duncan so anxious to get it?”
“Oil exploration is expensive. When a small oil company sets a dry well it costs them millions of dollars. For small companies, that much loss could be enough to shut them down. No company would ever just drop an exploratory well without some kind of survey.” Dana showed Cyrus a map from the report and said, “I have identified four areas here, near Santa Rosa Island, that have a greater than ninety percent probability of producing large quantities of oil.”
“How large?”
“Billions of barre
ls a day.”
“That’s huge,” Max said.
“It’s bigger than the Arab D in the Ghawar fields,” Dana said.
“And how far off shore are these oil finds?” Cyrus said.
“Around fifteen to twenty miles off the coast,” Dana said.
“But how’s Moon going to ensure the moratorium is extended?” Max said.
“DET is waterproof plastique, right?”
“Right,” Max said.
“Another oil spill off the coast would restart Earth Day and extend the moratorium forever,” Cyrus said, “Remember Duncan’s license plate? GOO stands for get oil out. That was the slogan the Earth Day protestors used just after the ’69 oil spill.”
“But why would an environmentalist cause an oil spill? That doesn’t make sense,” Dana said.
“Moon’s not an environmentalist; he’s a deranged murderer and an anarchist,” Cyrus said.
“I agree,” Max replied, “But why would he think he could get popular support for the moratorium by causing a spill. I would think people would be more angry with Moon than the oil companies. He’d make the oil companies look like victims.”
“He’s going to make it look like an accident. He’s going to make sure TANOCO, or somebody, get’s blamed,” Cyrus said.
“I still think the idea of an eco-terrorist causing an environmental disaster is a bit farfetched,” Max said.
“No,” Cyrus said, “The people who operate the pipeline at Rincon Island have been sabotaged five times in the last five years. Every time the pipeline is sabotaged and oil leaks out, there is a public outcry for them to shut down their operations.
If Moon could sabotage a lot of oil rigs and cover the beach with oil, he could get enough public support to shut down all the oil rigs off the coast, maybe even have them removed. That would produce the TV images of oil soaked birds and oil covered beaches they need to sway public opinion, just like in 69.”
“They would have images of protestors being harassed by police and looking like brave martyrs,” Briana said, “Then the public would force Governor Dunbar to shut down the oil platforms, maybe even remove them. With the moratorium in place for good and the pipelines removed, TANOCO, secretly owned and operated by CNOOC, could drill to the area from shore and lay claim to largest U.S. oil reserve in history.”
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