The Carbon Trap (The Carbon Series Book 1)

by Randy Dutton

  Chapter 76

  August 5, 1500 hours

  Santo Stefano al Mare, Italy

  They entered Santo Stefano al Mare. It was an ancient city on the rugged Italian coast. They came to a nondescript hotel on a narrow side street a block from the water.

  “Stop here. It’s small and quiet.” Anna said, breaking the reverie of their short Mediterranean drive. “It may be early afternoon, but I’m tired from the transatlantic travel and adrenalin rush. And I desperately need a shower to remove this body makeup.”

  “Did you sleep on the flight over?”

  “Barely.”

  He parked in front, stepped out of the car and turned a full circle. “It has a nice boardwalk, a great backdrop with the mountains. Very romantic...It’s perfect.”

  Immediately upon checking in, Anna took a quick shower and plopped into bed beside her sleeping husband.

  They awoke rejuvenated and hungry – just in time for a late dinner. They chose a small ristorante in one of the narrow streets, where opposing buildings were supported by arches along the top, and geraniums hung from every window.

  Dinner was long and subdued, Pete eschewing wine in sympathy with Anna’s abstention. They ate, speaking seldom, savoring the specialties of the Italian Liguria region.

  “How difficult will it be to travel in the future?” Pete asked softly, his left hand holding her right. They were leaning toward each other over a low-burning candle. Her hair shone from the flickering light.

  “It depends upon the answers to some questions,” she quietly responded. Her fork stole a mushroom from his plate.

  “What are those?”

  “Well...has Swanson or Jared told anyone else about me? Will Swanson be intimidated and fearful that I will set up a retaliation scheme if something were to happen? He’d assume I’d do it. Maybe I should send proof...show him I’m serious.”

  “What proof?”

  “I could send him example copies of some files.”

  “Would they incriminate you?”

  “That’s the problem. If he falls...so do I. Hell, he’d probably try to shift the blame on me.”

  “Then don’t. It’s possible the data would get intercepted by NSA or a third person. Leave it vague and let his imagination eat him up.”

  “That might be better. If he hasn’t told anyone else, just keeping it as a threat could give me immunity from his revenge. It’s in his interest to protect me if the consequences are too severe. I wonder if he’ll forego caution and unleash his wrath for the loss of the hacker site that had made him billions. Or will he decide he’s already far ahead and not risk what he has?”

  “Some tough questions, Babe. Here’s another. Will the loss of his security chief, killed in a very unusual way, cause him to think you’re going to kill him regardless? After all, he can only assume it was connected to you.”

  “To my knowledge, Darling, nobody has ever had their car taken over that way. I’ve never even read it in a novel...and I look for that kind of stuff. The unknown will play on his mind.”

  “Where did you hear about it?”

  “Oh, a Black Hat conference hacker experimented with controlling a car when he realized someone might be able to also hack medical devices.”

  “Really, like a pacemaker?”

  “And morphine pumps, surgical implants, insulin pumps, maybe even your leg.”

  Pete’s eyes opened wider. “My leg?”

  “Your leg has some computer assistance. If I…I mean, if someone were able to remotely reprogram it, then your leg is partly under their control. Now imagine you’re driving and someone wirelessly causes your leg to stiffen and the foot to push down on the accelerator and cause an accident.” Her shoulders shrugged. “Who would know?”

  He tilted his head, and his eyebrow lifted as he looked into her eyes. “You didn’t by chance consider doing that to me did you? You had my file.”

  She tilted her head down slightly and looked up at him with a very playful smile. She was biting her lower lip. “Perhaps…but that was before you stalked me.”

  “I’m a stalker now?” He feigned injury.

  She leaned closer, and in a sultry voice said, “How about we go stalk the waterfront together? I need the exercise.”

  Together they walked the promenade, his arm around her shoulders, her head against him, and they drifted that way until passion steered them to their hotel.

  Chapter 77

  August 6, 1100 hours

  Santo Stefano al Mare, Italy

  They lounged in bed most of the next morning. The narrow stone street rumbled in the background with delivery vehicles.

  She rolled to her side and faced Pete with her head propped on her hand. “Pete, we’ve never talked about our own family. How many kids do you want?”

  “I sense a trap,” he responded cautiously.

  “No, this isn’t a trick question.”

  She shifted her head onto laced fingers, positioned on his chest. “You have three siblings. I have none. I don’t know what’s right for us. Should we let nature takes its course, make plans for a set number, or be responsible and keep it at one or two? Children are an alien concept to me. I just don’t want to be told by some government how many we can have.”

  “Anna, Darling”—he stroked her hair—“We don’t need to decide now. Whether we have one or five, I’m happy with you.”

  “Five?” Her eyes widened and she pulled back a little.

  “Four?” he asked sweetly.

  “We’ll see.” She rested her chin back onto her now crossed arms. “I honestly don’t know if I’ll make a good mother for one. What do I tell our children about my past? That I was an assassin for a megalomaniac who wanted to rule the world…but I gave it up to bake brownies?”

  “I like brownies.” He chuckled.

  “Well, so do I, but seriously, I’m in uncharted waters.”

  “Have your emotions always whipsawed like this, Babe?”

  “They’re not whipsawing,” she protested. “I’ll admit that, before you came into my life…No, let me correct that. Before I saw that painting, I hardly ever became sentimental.” She softly laughed. “Mostly, I’d say any emotional rollercoaster is your fault.”

  “My fault?”

  Lovingly, her finger poked his chest. “You saw through me, and you made me pregnant, so of course my emotions are catching up to me.... Can I blame it on pregnancy hormones?” Her brow rose and she was smiling, ruefully admitting to a softer side she had stifled for nearly two decades.

  “If it gets me off the hook, sure,” he said.

  “Anyway, I decided something earlier this morning.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I will not allow my family to be scared of shadows. I want to be normal. I want a normal life. I want my family to have a normal life.... I need to call him.”

  “Swanson?”

  “Yes. I put fear into him yesterday. And I took out the only other person in his organization who knew enough about me to scare me. I think I can convince Swanson to avoid taking me on. To do that, he needs to know how dangerous I am if he goes on the offense.”

  “Are you sure he’ll know the accident was because of you? He might think it was a fluke.”

  “I…ah, put a Krugerrand into Jared’s pocket where he usually carries his cell phone. Swanson no doubt will figure the swap out. And if I call him with Jared’s phone….”

  “Got it…By the way, I noticed your carry bag had a box of USB flash drives in it. Are those blanks, or full?”

  “They’re evidence. Insurance....” She cocked her head. “Pete, this whole thing started because of global warming. I mean, I was in the Maldives specifically because Swanson was positioning himself to profit off the green movement’s CO2 reduction. I’ve never asked you…maybe because I feared a diatribe. As a climate expert, what’s your position on it?”

  “I think the debate was rigged. Back a few years ago, scientists at CERN proved that it was the sun that
affected cloud formation and climate temperature fluctuation. Imagine that. The source of all our light and heat causes fluctuation in…heat. And its magnetic field gives us more or less shielding from the cosmos. I worked on a follow-up project there, using its supercollider.“

  “I’m impressed. CERN’s probably the top scientific institution in the world.” She leaned back. “So why do so many people think the sun has little impact?”

  “You helped fake the Maldives’ ocean levels report. Don’t you think others have done the same thing with other climate reports?” he asked rhetorically. “I’ve found that most politicians, like most journalists and, frankly, most people, don’t really understand science or economics. And some of those who do understand – like Swanson – know that the money and power lie in manipulating the evidence.”

  “Well, yes, I am aware of other reports being ‘adjusted.’ Remember those WikiLeaks email and cable releases?

  “Like from Hadley and the UK Metrological Office?”

  “Yeah. But even more than the purposeful hiding and changing of facts and data, the leaked cables revealed the outright request or offering of bribes by various governments to support the agenda. The Maldivian government went as far as to propose the US give them $50 million for projects, whereupon other island nations would see how ‘beneficial’ supporting climate change protocols would be.”

  “How could you be involved in all this? Darling, where did you find the time?”

  “Oh, I wasn’t alone. There are tens of thousands of people like me manipulating the system. You and I just happen to have crossed paths because of your father.”

  “It was fate.”

  “Lucky for me!” She smiled while gently tapping him in the chest.

  “Lucky for us!” His hand scooped hers up and he kissed her hand. “Well, we know the use of the data was corrupted. Now back to the real science of cosmic radiation. It’s a little difficult to explain, so bear with me. In tech speak, solar modulation of the cosmic ray flux governs the amount of atmospheric ionization. This then modifies the formation of cloud condensation nuclei.”

  “Okay. Let’s see if I got that. The sun magnetic shield adjusts the fluctuations in cosmic rays hitting the Earth, which in turn affect the levels of atmospheric ionization. That ionization affects the availability of particles in the atmosphere. Moisture gathers around those particles, so they form clouds. Right?

  “You got it.” Pete smiled, and rubbed her stomach. “Our kid’s going to be soooo smart!”

  “Right.” She chuckled. “And this does what?”

  “Changes clouds’ reflectivity and duration.”

  “Okay…How?”

  “Here’s an example. CERN researchers found a correlation between the amount of cosmic rays reaching earth and the sun’s magnetic field. In a nutshell, the more the sun’s field shields Earth from cosmic rays, the fewer clouds there are. The sun’s magnetosphere fluctuates with sunspot activity. Fewer clouds mean less solar reflection. Less reflection means our atmosphere absorbs more of the rays, so the Earth gets warmer. Therefore, the sun determines the temperature on Earth. Using geological measurements, they also compared the results of cosmic ray variation with glaciation. They showed a very strong correlation.”

  “Interesting. How did they do the study?”

  “CERN scientists conducted an experiment, called CLOUD. It mimicked atmospheric conditions – you know, air, water vapor, and trace gases. They used protons from their particle accelerator to mimic cosmic rays. The results indicated an increase in the amount of atmospheric ionization increases the formation rate of condensation nuclei – essential for clouds.”

  “That makes sense.” She nodded.

  “Want to know the tragedy of all this?”

  “What?”

  “CERN told the researchers to downplay the results by minimizing the importance. CERN said cosmic radiation is only one of many parameters. The researchers may have found the key element in global temperature swings, but the progressive agenda won’t allow contrary research to interfere with their plans to push global domination. Someone made CERN nervous. And I’ll bet it had to do with their funding.”

  “Swanson and Sven would have us believe that almost all scientists agree global warming is man-made.”

  “Did they mention those who disagree? That particular CERN experiment had 63 scientists from 17 European and American institutions, yet their conclusions were diminished by bureaucrats and the results barely reported. I knew one of them.”

  “You knew who?”

  “One of the 63 scientists,” Pete answered while looking up at the spinning ceiling fan. “Professor Beecher”—Anna’s heart sunk at the name—“was my doctoral advisor”—she turned away—“a great teacher and a good friend.”

  She hid her shocked expression.

  “He died of a heart attack just before he was to present at the UN Maldives Conference,” he said. “His funeral was the reason I didn’t go to the Maldives with my dad.”

  She buried her shaking hands under the covers. Her lips were trembling and her eyes were tearing. “I’m so sorry, Honey!” she stammered as she buried her head in his chest. It was the only place to hide until she could recover.

  “Don’t take it so hard. You didn’t know the guy.”

  “For your loss I mean.”

  Pete stroked her hair, unaware of her guilt. He continued, “There also is something called the Oregon Petition that has 31,000 signatories of scientists who oppose the Kyoto Protocol and the efforts by the UN, and similar projects to mitigate climate change. They claim the debate’s still open about whether mankind’s primarily responsible.”

  “I know the list,” she said sadly with her face still hidden. “I was part of a concerted effort to discredit the critics. We got the media and science community to question the scientific credentials and the authenticity of the names of the signatories. We even added a few joke names to it.”

  “More subterfuge, Babe?”

  “Please don’t take it personally. It was all a game. Anyone who questioned global warming automatically got attacked. It didn’t matter whether they were right or wrong. Our group had to discredit your group. It was war…and I’m glad I’m out of it.” She wiped her eyes with the sheet.

  Pete continued. “Well anyway, much of the issue has to do with the questions being asked. Let’s try this. Remember the news touting 98% of climate scientists believe in global warming?”

  “I know it well.” She faked a smile.

  “Yeah, I bet you do. Well, I’m one of the 98%.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, but now let’s break the issue into its components. Ask any scientist whether CO2 is a global warming gas, and all would say yes.”

  “No argument from me,” she said. Her finger started tracing figures on his chest.

  “In a poll given to climate scientists, they asked, ‘Have global temperatures risen during the past 200 years?’ Do you think they have?”

  “I believe so.” Her spirit was recovering.

  “And you would be right. Two hundred years ago the world was in the grips of the Little Ice Age, which brought about the planet’s coldest temperatures since the previous ice age. It ended roughly 10,000 years ago. So, the answer is yes, the world has warmed in the past two centuries, but only the most zealous and delusional of global warming activists would argue the Little Ice Age brought about beneficial climate conditions. Most of us want it to be warmer than the early 1800s. Compare it to the year 1200 and our current climate is much cooler.”

  “I guess it’s all in how the question is asked,” she stated.

  “Exactly. Here’s another question. Are humans a significant contributing factor to this?”

  “Probably,” she answered. “The rise in CO2 coincided with the Industrial Revolution.”

  “But what’s significant?” Pete probed.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, 50 percent?”

  “There is no definition for �
��significant.’ The question asked to the scientists did not say sole factor, majority factor, or even primary contributing factor. Rather, the term is merely ‘significant contributing factor.’ More precisely, if human activity is not a significant contributing factor then it must be an insignificant contributing factor. What’s the demarcation line between significant and insignificant? Five percent? Ten percent? The threshold of insignificance is certainly no higher than that. So then, just what do 98 out of 100 climate scientists believe? Nothing of significance, unless you like to misrepresent meaningless surveys to score cheap political points. And yes, I believe mankind has contributed somewhat to the production of global warming gases, but not enough to warrant the reaction progressives are forcing.”

  “Progressives like I used to be?”

  “Yes. Like you used to be. Next question, what’s the CO2 level today?” Pete asked.

  “About 406 ppm.”

  “What was it before the industrial revolution?”

  “About 280,” Anna replied, recalling a similar discussion with Sven.

  “Are temperatures appreciably higher than 200 years ago?”

  “No.”

  “But the CO2 level is 45% higher, why isn’t the temperature much higher?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You never questioned it?”

  “I never really cared...so it didn’t matter.”

  “Here’s a piece of minutia. What were CO2 levels 540 million years ago when animals started roaming the land?”

  “Beats me.” Her fingers were walking across his chest.

  “7,000 ppm, or about 25 times higher than before we burned fossil fuels.”

  “Really?” Her eyes intensified from the surprise, and her hand stopped.

  “Did CO2 raise the temperature so much that it reduced planet habitation?”

  “I don’t think so,” she frowned.

  “Correct. It didn’t. Plants absolutely flourished. They were massively tall and dense, much more so than today. CO2 is free plant food. Life thrives on it. And when the plants got bigger, the animals grew. That’s how we got the dinosaurs – big animals feeding on big plants.”