A Final Broadside

by Buddy Worrell

  The 100,000-square-foot facility would cost over $36 million to build and would bring with it, when open, three hundred high-paying technical jobs to the community. He would be quite the celebrity, and it would also be a complete sham.

  It was here that Rithipol would construct his EMP weapon in order to extort $1 billion from the government of the United States.

  CHAPTER 43

  Rithipol’s thoughts were interrupted when the elevator door opened and Ariana emerged carrying her overnight case and a garment bag. She bowed deeply before taking her items to the guest bedroom. After hanging her clothes and laying out the contents of the overnight case, she returned to the great room and addressed Rithipol.

  “Dr. Chin, if you desire, I can show you to your sleeping quarters on the second floor. I have hung your suits and placed your other clothing in the dresser. There is also a large desk and executive chair in your room if you wish to continue working for a while.”

  Rithipol rose from his chair and retrieved the champagne from the ice bucket. He filled both flutes on the silver tray to overflowing. “A nightcap, my dear?” he asked.

  Ariana smiled and joined him, taking the flute he offered. Both sipped the exquisite liquid, and Rithipol returned her smile.

  “If you will accompany me?” Ariana said, and they walked to the elevator. When they arrived at the second floor, the door opened to a large recreation room delightfully furnished with a full-sized pool table, several arcade-like games, and a high-definition projection system for viewing movies or playing with the attached Xbox.

  Rithipol remarked that several of his younger protégés would enjoy this room immensely! Attached to the rec room were two more guest bedrooms and baths and the master suite where he would reside that night.

  Ariana led him through the door and into a sumptuous master suite complete with a king-size four-poster cherry bed with canopy and matching dressers, chests, and night tables. There was a separate sitting area furnished with two Queen Anne wingback chairs and a companion table, facing a sixty-inch flat-screen TV mounted to the wall, and an adjacent alcove holding a cherry executive desk and chair.

  Ariana pointed out two huge walk-in closets, one of which contained Rithipol’s hanging clothes, shoes, and accessories. Beyond the walk-in closets was the double-door entrance to the master bath, which consisted of twin marble sinks and cabinets, an elevated, jetted tub large enough for two, and an immense glass-enclosed shower system with multiple showerheads located at several heights and adjustable from a pulsating jet to a gentle rainfall from above. A separate room was lavishly equipped with a toilet and bidet in addition to another wall-mounted flat-screen TV.

  Rithipol nodded in approval, and Ariana led him back to the bedroom, where the bed linens were already turned down and his black silk pajamas were laid out.

  She stood behind him and removed his suit coat, replacing it with a light silk smoking jacket, and then loosened and removed his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. “Would you please sit on the side of the bed?” Ariana asked.

  Rithipol complied, and Ariana knelt down on her knees to remove his dress shoes and socks. The expensive carpeting felt luxurious on his bare feet.

  “Would you like your slippers, sir?” she whispered.

  Rithipol shook his head. “Not now, my dear.”

  Ariana rose, and taking both of his hands, she assisted him in rising from the bedside. “Next to the desk is a small refrigerator that I have stocked with slices of fresh fruit, Brie cheese, sparkling waters, and small champagne splits. On the credenza is a tray spread with tins of pecans, pistachios, and almonds, along with packs of gourmet crackers. Do you require anything else before you retire?” she asked.

  “No. Thank you, my dear. I will work for a while more before going to bed.”

  Ariana bowed and wished him a good night’s rest before departing to the third-floor guest room. Rithipol shuffled over to the refrigerator, sliding his bare feet through the thick, luscious pile of the carpeting, and selected a champagne split and tray of fresh peaches.

  He sat down in the executive chair and swiveled to his left to retrieve the aluminum case. Tonight he would start putting two years’ worth of planning and several million dollars in expenses into action. He opened the case and took out the folders as before. As he gazed down at the details of the operation, a small smile developed. After a moment, it evolved into a full grin accompanied by shrill laughter.

  CHAPTER 44

  As Rithipol studied the details of the plan, he marveled at his own genius and originality. All of the construction permits were authentic and legal yet based on purely fictitious information, backed up by immaculately forged documents. Far East Lithium was a shell company, yet the website and sales brochures rivaled those of the most successful worldwide businesses. Dr. Chin’s résumé and CV were resplendent with counterfeit degrees, publications, business experience, letters of recommendation, and financial backing.

  Because his “character” was from China, most of the false information would be extremely difficult to check. Besides, like all minor politicians, the city council members and county commissioners would be much more interested in attaching their names to a successful project that promised revenue and jobs for which they could take credit and garner votes than they would be in tracking down a multitude of background details.

  The ground breaking and construction on the site would begin in less than a month. The warehouse area, offices, and shipping docks would be followed by the paving and striping of the parking lot and truck entrance. A small staff of administrative personnel would handle minor communication and construction issues and aid the facade of an operational enterprise.

  The next phase of construction would be the laying in of blast- and bombproof walls and doors in the central production area. A fire-suppression system would complete the area and make it ready for the production equipment to be installed. Ostensibly, these measures would be for the protection and safety of the workers, but they also would give a degree of security and a margin of protection in case the FBI or CIA discovered the plot. Unless attacked by a fleet of B-52s, the plant should withstand any attack long enough to fire the EMP remotely and fulfill Rithipol’s upcoming threat.

  The final phase would be the installation of the EMP weapon and controls. For this, Rithipol would bring in the young engineer he had spirited out of North Korea a few years ago. Pak, as Rithipol called him, had become dedicated to Rithipol and had also become enamored of the lifestyle provided for him in Switzerland.

  Pak would install and activate the range solution and remote controls for the EMP before returning to Geneva. For his efforts, Rithipol had promised Pak to extricate his girlfriend from the DPRK and allow her to join him in Switzerland. It was a promise Rithipol could fulfill through intermediaries and bribes without having to set foot in the hermit kingdom.

  The untraceable threat would come in the form of a letter placed in a protected diplomatic pouch from Thailand (where bribes were very effective) and would be delivered to the Swedish embassy in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The Swedish ambassador would read the document and immediately contact the US embassy in Stockholm, transferring the threat into the hands of the Americans. The American ambassador would contact the State Department, which would in turn contact the CIA and FBI, and the game would be on! The terms would be the US government’s transfer of $1 billion into multiple numbered accounts in the Grand Caymans in order to “purchase” the EMP range solution.

  If the government of the United States wished to decline this generous offer, a free demonstration of the EMP and range solution would be provided near an East Coast metropolitan area to exhibit the power, effectiveness, and most importantly, range of the weapon, now estimated to affect an area within a 300-mile radius. The answer to the offer was to be placed in the New York Times on Saturday, December 6, in the form of an advertisement for emplo
yment. If the United States wished to purchase the range solution and accept the aforementioned terms, the ad would read “Middle East country seeking electrical engineers for major desalinization project. Must relocate. Call 800-555-1212.”

  If there was no ad in the paper on December 6, this would be interpreted as a declination of the offer, and the free demonstration would proceed on Sunday, December 7. If after the successful demonstration, the United States wished to reconsider, the price would be $2 billion.

  Rithipol read the terms several times to ensure accuracy and lack of traceability back to him. The threat would be sent only after the EMP was operational. After all, he thought, what fun is a threat if one cannot carry it out?

  Feeling fatigued but content, Rithipol placed the folders back into the aluminum case. He shuffled over to the immense bed, luxuriating again in the feel of the carpet on his feet, and removed the smoking jacket. He quickly put on the pajamas Ariana had laid out for him and climbed into bed. The mattress seemed to envelop his body, and soon, every muscle in his body relaxed. He picked up the lighting remote and dimmed the lights to a soft glow. No more thinking about meeting with the city and county officials tomorrow. Tonight, he required rest and a dreamless sleep.

  The next morning, he was awakened by Ariana wearing a lovely terry cloth bathrobe. She was holding a tray with freshly brewed coffee, sugar cubes, cream, and a current copy of the New York Times. She placed the tray on the nightstand within his reach and said cheerily, “Good morning, Dr. Chin. I hope you rested well? I brought your coffee and paper and will prepare the shower for you and lay out your toiletry items. I will also prepare your special uniform for today’s meeting. When you are ready, please join me on the third floor for breakfast. I have several items you may want to sample.”

  Rithipol stretched and yawned widely before sliding out of bed and reaching for the coffee.

  “I know you prize your morning privacy, so unless you require anything else, I will return to the kitchen and the preparation of breakfast,” Ariana said.

  Rithipol smiled and nodded, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

  In less than one hour, Rithipol joined Ariana in the kitchen, where he was met with a delightfully diverse set of aromas. Cured breakfast meats were warming in the heating dish, and scrambled eggs and buttermilk biscuits steamed in their chafing dishes. Various jams and jellies were displayed along with a jar of local honey.

  “It all looks lovely, my dear, but whatever is this?” Rithipol asked, pointing to a warm bowl filled with a gray liquid that had the consistency of a thick wallpaper paste.

  “It is sausage gravy intended to be served on top of a split biscuit. I was informed by the caterer that ‘biscuits and gravy’ are ubiquitous in this portion of the country,” Ariana explained.

  “Its appearance is not the most appetizing, but the aroma is compelling. I shall try it!” he announced.

  Rithipol found the breakfast Ariana had prepared to be delightful, even the biscuits and gravy! After breakfast, Rithipol told Ariana to leave the cleanup and go prepare herself for the meeting in Wilmington. Perhaps she could arrange for some kind of cleaning crew to tidy up after they left for the meeting. Ariana smiled and answered that arrangements already had been made for just such an event and that the house would be prepared and cleaned for their arrival this evening.

  “Thank you, my dear. Now run along and prepare yourself. I want many eyes concentrating on you and few eyes concentrating on me.”

  Ariana smiled, bowed, and left for the guest room to get dressed.

  She emerged a few minutes later wearing the deadly little black dress, open-backed and suspended by black spaghetti straps, revealing her curves and contours and hemmed slightly above midthigh. Her five-foot-eleven-inch frame was accented by the five-inch black stilettos. Her silver and diamond necklace enhanced her long, graceful neck. Both wrists were adorned with matching silver and diamond bracelets, giving her the effect of sunshine sparkling on ripples of clear water. Her jet-black hair was parted in the middle and flowed down her shoulders, ending at her waist. The contrast of the dress and jewelry gave distinction to her flawless café au lait skin tone.

  Rithipol examined her from the top of her head to the heels of the stilettos and back again. “You look ravishing, my dear. Compared to my clownish apparel, you look like an international model, and that will work in our favor,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir. Will you accompany me to the limo?”

  “I would be delighted, my dear!” Rithipol answered.

  CHAPTER 45

  Ken finally went to bed around 11:30 p.m. after studying a press blurb about a Chinese company building a new high-end battery production facility in western New Hanover County. The mayor had called him and asked that Ken attend the press conference and meet the CEO of Far East Lithium and perhaps offer him a tour of the battleship. These kinds of “official duties” came along once in a while, and Ken enjoyed the break from routine activities and the opportunity to chat up city and county officials about events and fundraisers for the memorial.

  Donna had gone to bed an hour earlier, so Ken slipped into bed as quietly as possible so as not to disturb her. She was snoring lightly (purring as Ken called it) and did not react to him as he pulled up the sheet and turned away from her, fluffing his pillow. In minutes, he was in twilight and then REM sleep and dreaming.

  Many of Ken’s dreams were about his new boat and fishing in the blue Atlantic. His twenty-six-foot Grady-White was propelled by twin 300-horsepower Yamaha outboards and was fully rigged for deep-sea fishing. In some dreams, Donna was with him. In others, he was with some combination of their sons and even his grandfather Baldwin. In this dream, he was uncharacteristically alone. The dream fishing trip had been fruitless, and he was heading back to shore when he was surprised by a voice behind him.

  “Master Chief,” the voice called like a sigh on the wind.

  Ken turned to see nothing but was surprised upon turning back around to see a shape forming at the boat’s console before him. The shape sharpened into the image of a naval officer dressed in the uniform worn during World War II.

  “Master Chief,” the apparition called out again.

  Ken recognized the features of the spirit and answered, “Nate? Is that you? Why are you here? Where is my father?”

  The floating form seemed to smile. “Easy, Master Chief. I can remain here only a few moments, so for now, just listen and remember.”

  Ken nodded.

  “Your father sent me to warn you that you will encounter a powerful evil, eagerly planning an attack on our homeland. You will meet this evil today, and when you do, all will be revealed about his plan. You must not react physically when you come in contact with the evil. You must not reveal that you are becoming aware of his plan. Your father and all of our shipmates on the Arizona are hoping that you will counter this evil and provide a release for us from the unfulfilled destiny that binds us to our sunken ship. You have spent your entire life preparing for this confrontation.” The apparition began to waver and grow dim, but before disappearing completely, Nate snapped a salute and held it until Ken returned the salute.

  In his dream, Ken was wet with sweat and shaking with a chill. He was aware of an insistent ringing in his ears that grew louder and more annoying.

  Suddenly, he felt a strong push on his left arm, and he awakened quickly to find Donna urgently shaking him. “Ken,” she urged, “it’s the overseas operator with a call from Japan!”

  Ken jumped from the bed and sprinted to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, to shake the grogginess that still held him. He was sweaty and shivering. He grabbed a bathrobe from a hanger and wrapped it around himself. When he returned from the bathroom, Donna was still holding the phone and looking quizzically at him.

  Ken raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. He took the receiver from Donna and spoke clearl
y into it. “This is Ken Hager!”

  The operator spoke in clear English flavored with a slight Japanese accent. “Please hold for your call, Mr. Hager … Okay, your call is connected!”

  The connection was good, and the voice on the other end of the line sounded as if it was in the next room. “Is this young Ken Hager? The young Ken Hager who visited the USS Arizona so many years ago?” the voice implored.

  Ken’s mind immediately took him back to the early 1960s when he and his mom had visited the memorial and he had been stricken with a paranormal seizure. “Yes, this is Ken Hager, although not so young,” Ken answered.

  An ancient but warm laugh came from the caller. “Not so young. Yes, not so young myself! This is Dr. Ninomya in Osaka. I attended to you at the memorial when you collapsed. Do you remember?”

  In an instant, Ken relived the incident in his mind in great detail. “Yes, Dr. Ninomya. I remember it well. I have often thought of you and how you saved my life.”

  Dr. Ninomya continued, “Do you remember when I visited you in the hospital and told you how I was changed by touching you during the seizure? The powers you transferred to me have led to a most interesting career in medicine. I have cherished and employed the gifts of empathy, telepathy, and precognition in the treatment of my patients throughout the years, and these gifts have enhanced my skills inconceivably.”

  His voice audibly shaking, Dr. Ninomya continued, “But now I must speak to warn you of a great peril coming your way. I do not know the nature of this peril or its intentions other than that it means great harm. I do know that you will learn of this peril and its intentions today! I call to beg that you prepare yourself and know that vanquishing the peril will save many lives and free many spirits that we saw trapped on the Arizona.”