The Aurora Conspiracies- Volume One

by Sam Nash

  “Who does she think she is?”

  And Luca responding with, “Believe me, she has no idea who she truly is.”

  The caterers arrived early, and took over most of the ground floor in their preparations. Mary worked around them, searching in cupboards for a tea service, and accompanying items. Eventually, she found a bone china set in the mahogany unit of the formal dining area. She gave it a good rinse, warmed the pot with hot water and added four teaspoons of leaf tea while the kettle boiled. Stacking the rest of the set onto a carved wooden tray, she carried her elevenses out into the sunshine.

  Millicent sat, with a thunderous scowl scoring through her Gucci sunglasses. “I’d prefer coffee.” The men had disappeared into Luca’s study, leaving Millicent to commandeer the seat at the head of the table.

  Mary laid the tray down with care, and sat opposite the governor’s wife. “I’m sure you would.” She said, lifting the lid of the pot and creating a mini typhoon inside with a whirling spoon. “Milk?” She splashed a little into her own cup, and suspended the jug over her guest’s.

  Millicent shook her head. Mary shrugged, balanced the strainer over her cup and poured. Unpacking the items from the tray, she placed a small china plate and napkin in front of Millicent, along with tiny pots of jam, cream and the butter dish. “Would you care for a scone?”

  “No, I would not. Don’t you Brits know what carbs do to your body?”

  “Indeed, we do. They provide us with starch based energy. An essential food group, in moderation. Although moderation appears to be something you Yanks struggle with.” Mary looked up at the skeletal woman with fresh insight. “Aren’t you just a teensy bit hungry?”

  Millicent glared her response, but the loud rumble from her intestines betrayed her. Mary smiled, piling the clotted cream onto the scone and slowly lifting the cake to her mouth. “Mmm. You are missing a treat.”

  “So, how did you bag the most eligible man west of the Rockies?”

  “Oh, I didn’t ‘bag’ him. He got me shot and felt guilty. I suppose he could have left me to die, but he didn’t. I still haven’t worked out why.”

  “You were shot?” Millicent sat fully upright in her seat. “When, how?”

  “Surely you heard about the heist at the charity auction at the Broad Street Ballroom?”

  “That was you? The reports said that someone was shot and killed.” Millicent reached for her teacup, through habit more than necessity.

  “One of Luca’s security team was killed. I survived.”

  The governor’s wife opened her mouth to deliver platitudes, but decided against such an action. They sat in silence for an interminable time, each supping from their teacup and listening to the incessant chants from the valley floor. Mary could see that Millicent was itching to ask about the Christians at the gate, and that her abstention was to avoid acknowledging her fame.

  Mary did not want to fuel hostilities. She was supposed to be hosting these people, however odious they were. Her grandfather would have berated Mary for her rudeness. She offered Millicent an armistice. “Were you born in California?”

  “Can’t you tell from my accent? I’m Texan, through and through. Met Zak at college.”

  “Goodness. And how do you feel about the shunning of oil based energy supplies in favour of alternatives?”

  Millicent balked. Mary had stumbled over grazed nerves. She watched her compose herself and formulate a guarded response.

  “It’s wonderful. If only other states would take the bull by the horns and diversify.” The collar of her blouse stuck to the damp skin on her neck. She pulled at the fabric, grimacing at the indiscretion. “Of course, it has been a terrible blow to old families who built their fortunes around oil, but progress is progress.” A nervous giggle erupted subconsciously and deflated.

  Mary wondered just how old she classed, ‘old families’ to be, but kept it to herself. “I guess they can still move their wealth into new technology, avoiding complete disaster?”

  “Sure, but which technology do you invest in that will provide the same security as oil?”

  “I see the dilemma. If only we had a crystal ball…”

  Millicent snorted. It was an involuntary display of mirth. Despite herself, she was warming to Mary.

  Steering the conversation down less contentious pathways, the women waited for their partners to return. When they did, Zak had a fresh tumbler of alcohol balancing on his outstretched palm.

  Millicent noticed immediately. “Oh Coop, you said you’d go easy.”

  “This is easy, darlin’. I promise I’ll make this one last.” Zak stood at the edge of the terrace, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. “You should chase those noisy bastards off your land, or your guests will never get through to your party later. What’s their beef? You bin shooting your mouth off, baiting good Christian folk, Bonovich?”

  “Not me, Zak. They’re here for Mary.”

  “Then for God’s sake, give her to them. This could ruin your career.” The fat man tipped the bourbon down his throat as though it was a lifeline.

  Luca grinned his famous laminated, plastic smile. “They are not on my land. They are exerting their First Amendment rights.”

  “I’ll get it under control. I can have the National Guard here within a couple of hours tops. I got them stationed at Travis Air force Base, testing something out for me. I’ll get the way clear.” The governor fished in a trouser pocket for his mobile phone, wandering out of earshot as the connection was made. “Cell reception around here is shit.” Zak raised the phone high until he spied additional service bars on the device, and then hit a re-dial number.

  Luca called after him. “Just leave it, Zak. They are not doing any harm.” But it was too late. The order had been made.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Luncheon was awkward to say the least. Luca had his staff set up a table at the winery so that the ranch could be laid out and decorated ready for the guests. Mary detected a new friction developing between the two alpha males; their body language defensive and gruff. It seems as though their meeting was cut short, and did not end with the resolution for which Luca was hoping. The governor insisted that they travelled the short distance over the mountainside in his limousine, flanked by his security detail. The pretension was sickening. Mary covered her face with her hair as they nudged through the crowds of protesters, but it did not stop them from rushing at the stretched car and hurling abuse at the windows. Zak’s stoic guards, jogged alongside the vehicle, growling at each Christian to back off. A flash of their holstered weapons was enough to clear a pathway large enough to drive through.

  The menace of the religious zealots rendered the passengers silent. The men seemed buoyed by the experience, adrenalin fuelling their vibrant discourse.

  At lunch, Millicent nibbled on a single oat cracker with a tapenade spread just thin enough to discolour the surface, while the men tucked into cold cuts of honied ham, cheeses and relishes of all distinctions. Mary ate a little of the French bread and tuned out the small talk. They were feet away from a sign which indicated a stairwell. Was this another entrance to the cave system? Memories of the Summerfield Retreat returned to give her indigestion. How did Luca fit into Alexi’s scheme? What was he going to use the nuclear material for? Surely, he wasn’t planning to detonate it as part of a nuclear attack, that would be suicide?

  If she could just hang in long enough for Luca to slip up. Then she could get a message through to… to whom? Who could help her against such powerful men? The governor would have been a safe bet, if he hadn’t spent the last hour hidden away with Luca in his private office. She popped a few grapes into her mouth, and grabbed the rest of the bunch before they could be cleared away. Luca announced the tour idea to Zak and Millicent, who seemed grateful for the distraction.

  Taking control, Luca paraded them through the production lines, from the giant hoppers where the grapes are washed to the lower levels where the first presses still oozed from a recent
batch. From there, the shiny stainless steel vats and chutes gave way to more traditional wood and glass as they descended into the cave system below. The temperature dropped by at least ten degrees with each level they traversed. It stabilised at precisely fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. Millicent shivered, pulling her jacket together at the front. Luca led them into a bank of shelving which supported the oldest of vintages, and invited them to sample three of his best wines.

  The governor was most eager, swilling the first of the ruby liquids around its glass and neglecting to spit out the tasted mouthful. By his third glass of the prime vintage, his judgement failed him. Clanking the glass down heavily onto a wine cask, he fractured the stem, spilling the remainder of the liquid across the barrel and down the leg of his wife’s trousers.

  “Oh Coop. You clumsy oaf.” She jumped backwards, brushing the wine further into the fibres with a swipe of her hand.

  “Mary, there’s a sluice sink the other side of that door, just behind you. You should find a clean cloth too.” Luca gestured for Mary to take the governor’s wife into the preparation room and assist her in the clean-up. Mary obliged, nodding and guiding Millicent through the swing door.

  The sink was mounted to their left, and, as promised, clean cloths were stacked neatly in the cupboard beneath. Mary doused the cloth in cold water, wrung out the excess and handed it over. While the governor’s wife rubbed ineffectually at the stain, Mary wandered the length of the preparation area and peered through a second set of doors. So many gas cylinders. She mused to herself. I know they use Nitrogen to push the oxygen from the wine bottles, but who knew they needed this much? Must have a gas generator somewhere… oh, just there, in fact. Mary closed in on the large metal cased machine, delivering freshly pumped gases into massive cannisters at its end.

  Heavy booted footsteps came from a room beyond, along with a repetitive squeaking noise of trundling wheels. Someone was headed towards them. Mary did not move. Her heart rate quickened, and the desire to slip away grew ever more urgent. Taking a few paces closer to the gas machine set a cascade of neurotransmitters into her brain. The cylinders were each marked with a large H2. Luca was generating the explosive gas Hydrogen. For one terrified moment, Mary allowed the data to percolate through her senses. What does he need that for? They need inert gases to stop the oxidation of wine, not something as volatile as Hydrogen.

  “Hey, what are you doing back here. This is for staff only.” The man in the boiler suit, pushing a sack barrow bellowed at them.

  Mary snapped back to her senses. “We’re with Senator Bonovich. Just clearing up a minor accident, won’t be a minute.” Mary stepped aside, allowing the worker to see Millicent making a hash of cleaning away the wine stains.

  “Well, I ain’t safe back here, lady. Better go and clean up elsewhere.”

  “Right, yes. Of course. My apologies.” Mary grabbed Millicent’s sleeve and dragged her through the door, still clutching the wet cloth.

  “These are ruined. Coop, I could strangle you.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. Maybe we can getcha something else to wear for the party?” The governor looked pointedly at Mary. She, in turn, looked at Luca.

  “Perhaps Luca could ask his friend, Viktor, to pick something up for her from Napa?” Mary offered.

  “He’s got a rather important errand to run this afternoon, but I’m sure I can find someone else. Leave it with me.” And with that, Luca cut short the tour, guiding them back to the main stairs, out of the winery and back to the limousine. The governor and Millicent barely noticed the abrupt alteration in the cordial atmosphere, but Mary saw the mercurial change in Luca. There was tension in the muscles surrounding his eyes and mouth. The easy smile plasticised into his media ready one, and the churning thoughts weighed down his brows. Had he read the Governors thoughts while Mary was in the sluice room with Millicent? What information had he gleaned that so altered his temper?

  Their return to the ranch was stressful. Two further coach loads of militant faithful blocked the gate entrance, jostling and barging the limo from every angle, making it rock on its shock absorbers. Mary braced herself for a stream of rude language from the Governor, bemoaning the right to protest and the shoddy way in which Luca was handling the invasion, but it failed to manifest. Instead, he looked smug and calm, as if he knew something that they did not. The security team battled through the crowds and held them back with outstretched arms, allowing the limo to cruise through onto the property.

  The courtyard was decked with festoons of twisted hops, interwoven with meadow flowers. Large patio flares stabbed the gravel at intervals, awaiting darkness to be lit. Small lanterns picked out the steps up to a canopied terrace. The buffet table spanned the length of the patio, laid with crisp linen and floral and fruit displays.

  Luca directed his guests towards his own suite upstairs, allowing them time to freshen up and rest prior to the party.

  “You don’t mind me sharing your bathroom, do you?” This he uttered into her hair, heaving her close to his body. He smelled of faded cologne and the salt residue from a day in the heat.

  “Please can you get my brooch first?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He kissed her fully on the mouth, and squeezed her tight, his arms enveloping her entire torso. It was as if he needed her to bolster his courage. A moment of vulnerability rising to the surface, quelled by her intimacy. She patted his back and then let her arms relax to her sides. He did not take the hint, but held onto her for a few seconds more. When he did release her, she wandered towards the guest apartment, stopping near to the bend in the corridor to look back at him. He had not moved. There he stood, watching her walk away from him, a contented expression smoothing out his frown lines.

  Slightly perturbed, Mary entered the guest quarters and closed the door behind her. Why was he so difficult to fathom? How could someone be so duplicitous and so sweet at the same time? How could he campaign so diligently for environmental considerations and yet be tied somehow to Alexi and the Summerfield Retreat? Why had he gone to such lengths to keep her with him, even while ravening Christians were practically beating down his door?

  Mary stripped off her dusty clothes and stepped into the shower. She washed quickly aware that Luca would return, and seeing her naked and wet, would initiate another round of carnal gymnastics. As much as she enjoyed him, she did not want to flood her brain with endorphins. She needed a clear head, and her wits about her. Clad in a layer of expensive lingerie and protected from advances with her towelling robe, Mary grappled her unruly hair as Luca entered the room carrying a garment bag, his formal dress shoes and a grey plastic box.

  He took one look at her advanced state of dress and remarked, “Jeez, that was quick. I was hoping for a …”

  “Have you got my brooch?”

  Luca held out the grey container. It was the same box she had seen Luca take delivery of in the courtyard. Mary drew breath, and then checked herself, reining in her reaction. She took it from him and opened the case. It looked the same. The black jewel appeared unmolested, but she had to be sure. She ran her index finger over its surface, giving the setting a little wriggle to test its strength. The gem did not budge. Mary closed her eyes and offered up a prayer into the ether that it was the original jewel and not some fake knock off that Luca’s colleague had swapped out.

  “Where did the box come from?”

  “Just one I had lying about in the sanctuary. Thought it might save it from any damage.” The lie slipped from his tongue as easily as butter. “Is it really a good idea to wear it tonight, considering what happened last time?”

  “It’ll be fine as long as no one shines a laser pen in my direction.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “I am.” As she pinned the last slide into her curls, they were deafened by a droning roar changing pitch overhead. Mary rushed to the windows, leaning out over the sill. “Holy shit! It’s one of those massive Chinook thing helicopters.”

  “That fucking bastard. I d
idn’t think he’d have the balls. Serves me right for lowering his inhibitions with my finest vintage.” They dashed from the apartment to the terrace as the Chinook hovered above the massing group of protesters carrying a large military vehicle from steel cables beneath. The pilot lowered the aircraft in an expert manoeuvre until the wheels of the truck made contact with the ground, before detaching the coupling device. While the helicopter found a landing site further down the road, the personnel inside the vehicle raised a motor driven array of equipment from its roof. They were approximately one hundred metres from the ranch gates.

  Mary and Luca watched helplessly from the terrace. They were soon joined by the governor and his wife.

  “See Bonovich, told you I would get it squared away for you.” Zak’s face shone from the effects of high blood pressure and alcoholism. Luca seethed, but there was little he could do.

  Mary watched the flat square of metal reposition, controlled remotely by the passenger inside. “What is it?” She said it out loud, without thinking.

  “They call them Active Denial Systems.” Luca growled, shooting the governor a lethal glare.

  “Best invention since the internal combustion engine.” The governor grinned, teetering back on his heels.

  “What does it do?” As Mary said it, the crowds of worshippers and faithful screamed in terror, protecting their faces with their arms and scattering in all directions. One tiny cluster remained, howling in pain while they pushed wheelchairs over uneven and tufted ground. “I don’t understand, what happened to them?”

  “It fried their skin. It’s little more than a giant microwave, blasting one hundred kilowatts of energy in concentrated bursts. No sound, no sight, no warning. Just a rush of volcanic heat penetrating and cooking your skin through your clothes.” Luca turned to the governor. “Call them off, Zak. It’s inhuman.”