Special Agent Ryan raised his beer, the cold liquid soothing his throat and offering some relief from the humid Venezuelan heat. He set the nearly empty bottle carefully down directly onto the wet ring of condensation it had left on the bar counter and fished in his pocket for his cigarettes. Raising his head to light his smoke he glanced into the large mirror behind the rows of liquor bottles.
The front door of the pub opened. Sunshine poured into the dimly lit room silhouetting the newcomer. The framed form of a woman stood in the doorway. With his lighter frozen half way to his cigarette, Ryan watched, waiting for the female to walk deeper into the room. Lost in the moment his eyes remained locked on the reflection in the mirror as the form materialized from the blinding light, the image growing clearer as the door slowly closed. Ryan smiled to himself as he admired the advancing form. Dressed in a loose white shirt and khakis, Ryan let his eyes linger on the ladies face. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders framing a tanned face that he found quite beautiful. Walking into the bar with an air of confidence the woman's head swiveled in a searching movement taking in the scattering of patrons in the bar. Ryan took one last glance then returned to lighting the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Expelling a cloud of smoke he picked up his beer, a local favorite called Zulia and drained the bottle. Not exactly Bud he contemplated then waved to the bartender for a refill. A shadow fell across the bar in front of him. Turning his head, he glanced up straight into the eyes of the woman who had recently entered the pub. “Is this seat taken?” she asked pulling the barstool back, her accent foreign, different than the Venezuelan accented English spoken by the locals. “N…No,” he stammered feeling his skin heat up, his face blushing red darkening his tan. Ryan cursed under his breath at his awkwardness, took a breath and spoke again. “No. Help yourself.” He regained his composure and assisted in holding the chair as she sat. His eyes remained on her face. Her skin was more olive colored then tanned, her eyes looked like pools of black in the bar’s poor lighting, almost matching the color of her flowing hair. “Do I have something on my face?” she questioned, her mouth turned up at the corners with a mischievous smile. Ryan quickly averted his eyes, the blush on his face deeper. “I’m sorry,” Ryan apologized turning back to look at her. “Ryan. Charles M. Ryan,” he announced extending his hand. "Please to meet you, Mr. Ryan,” the lady lightly grasped his hand. “I am Netanya Kalb.” Pulling her hand free she waved to the bartender. “White wine, por favor.” Netanya lifted her purse onto the counter, Reached inside and shuffled through the contents then pulled a card out and passed it to Ryan before shoving her bag aside. Ryan raises the card and read. Netanya Kalb, Shabak, Israel Security Agency, Tel Aviv, Israel. Setting the card on the table, Ryan picked up his beer and looked quizzically at Netanya. Noticing the confusion, Netanya quickly explained. “I, like you have also been investigating the outbreak of sabotage that has befallen the energy industry, Mr. Ryan. Shabak is Israel’s version of your F.B.I.” She paused while the bartender set the glass of wine on the counter. Tasting the wine she replaced the glass and continued. “This epidemic is now worldwide, and I have been assigned to work with you. I was watching you at the refinery fire on Lake Maracaibo. I too sent photos of the suspected terrorists. Anything you can tell me about them. My agency hasn’t replied with information on the dead men yet.” Ryan studied the Israeli Agent. How much could he divulge, he pondered. A little put out that he hadn’t received notification from the Bureau of having to work with Agent Kalb, he played with his beer bottle deciding which path to take. “Why don’t we meet for supper later and I can bring my files?” he delayed. The break would allow him time to contact Washington and have Agent Kalb’s credentials checked. “Mr. Ryan. I am supposed to work with you not carry on a relationship,” she joked. “I, well, that’s not what I meant,” he blustered. “We have to eat, and my files are back at my hotel room,” he clarified. Netanya Kalb laughed. “Supper will be suitable,” she reassured. “That will provide you with time to check my credentials if you need. I understand.” Ryan smiled at her response. Beautiful and smart, he thought. This union could work out fine. With the ice broken he ordered another round of drinks. “One of the terrorists is well known back in the States. Not as a terrorist but as an advocate of the environment.” Stopping to test his fresh beer, he wiped his lips and continued. “The man’s name is Professor Anthony Enders. He was a full-time professor at the University of Washington State before he began crisscrossing North America speaking at environmental rallies and leading protests against oil production. The fact that he was found dead at the Lake Maracaibo refinery is out of sorts for a fellow of his background and something worth digging into once I have returned to America.” “Wasn’t he a founder of the People Of The Earth Foundation?” Netanya asked. “He may have been a founder, but I think he may have found himself forced to the side by the man who now leads the organization, a man known as Lucas or as the media refers to him, the Climate Prophet.” “Yes. I am well aware of this…Climate Prophet. We have been investigating the man for some time now. Does it seem coincidental to you that as this Prophet gains popularity and his foundation grows, the attacks on fossil fuel deposits have escalated?” “Bingo.” Ryan winked at Netanya. “That has been my working thesis for a while now. The problem I am having is I can’t find even one small crumb that leads back to the P.O.T.E. foundation. If they are behind these attacks, they are very thorough at covering their tracks.” “Maybe the death of this professor will help us uncover…crumbs, as you say that will lead us to their door. Until then I guess we have our work cut out for us, don’t we?” Netanya ended the conversation by emptying her glass and swiping her purse off the bar counter as she stood to leave. “What time is supper and where shall we meet?”
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“Welcome to Ontario,” Premier Joiner beamed as he met Lucas at the bottom of the plane stairs. The Ontario Premier extended his hand to Lucas then sheepishly retracted his arm, his gesture rebuffed. With a tinge of embarrassment leaking out from under his collar, Hugh Joiner quickly composed himself, and a smile returned to brighten his face once again. Lucas hesitated at the bottom of the plane ramp. From beneath his robes hood, his shaded eyes gazed past the Premier surveying the tarmac. Lucas waited until Alice climbed down the stairs than with determined strides walked across the hot asphalt toward the Premier’s limo. Lucas climbed into the back of the air-conditioned car followed closely by Alice. Joiner’s chauffeur remained standing at the open door until his boss joined the couple inside. The smile once again left Joiner’s face when he glanced back at his visitor. “The Prime Minister sends his apologies. A matter of urgency surfaced delaying him at his office. He asked me to bring you straight to the Parliament building for your meeting,” the Ontario Premier explained. “You look troubled my friend?” Lucas broke his silence, his eyes searching the Premier's face. Hugh Joiner turned and looked out the limo window, his hands clasped tightly. Swallowing, he cleared his throat, when he spoke his voice was barely a whisper. His head remained facing the window. “It’s nothing,” he said. “What’s nothing?” Lucas demanded. “Well, we’ve had more riots break out recently. Some people in this province are becoming very militant. Instead of just empty threats and protests they’ve escalated to acts of vandalism. Most of it aimed at the growing forests of wind turbines we’ve been installing.” “These people, they are against the opportunity to work and make a living?” Lucas asked. How could people anywhere be against progress, he wondered. “With the ever growing addition of the turbines, I would think that everyone should be delighted to participate in the saving of our planet.” His eyes narrowed, locked straight on the Premier’s face. Joiner swallowed again then risked a sideward glance at the Climate Prophet. “Some people are questioning the installation of these metal wonders.” Then to lighten the situation, Hugh Joiner forced a weak smile to his blood drained face. “They don’t understand the benefits of the clean environment we are striving to give them.” “You had better shut these few dissidents down before they cause real problems.” Lucas snapped. “Explain to them the opportunity I am providing. With the construction and installation of these turbines, they rally against, comes an untold amount of jobs. I am trying to help them, Mr. Premier. DON’T let them forget that fact.” The Ontario Premier sunk deeper into limos plush upholstery. The last man he wanted to annoy was the man sitting on the seat opposite to his. Hugh Joiner owed several debts to Lucas. His third rate political party was a mere speck on the electoral landscape before Lucas and his foundation sought him out and offered money and helped to seal an unexpected election win. Joiner’s thoughts drifted back two years. His upstart Eco-party was last in the polls with barely a chance of winning even one seat. Then out of nowhere he was approached and offered a deal. Swear allegiance to Lucas’ People Of The Earth Foundation and an unlimited amount of funds and P.R. services would be employed to swing the Ontario election in his favor. At the time Joiner agreed to the deal he was less worried about the consequences of the undertaking then he was about becoming Premier of Canada’s largest province. A deal he soon came to regret, but his options were now limited. Do as was asked of him or suffer far greater than just a stain on his reputation. Besides, he rationalized; his vision and the vision of the P.O.T.E. ran a parallel course. The main difference was the timeline. Hugh Joiner was more than happy to bring changes slowly to the energy landscape of his province over his first term in office, even decades if that was what it took. Lucas and his foundation, though, had more driving ideas and wanted all sources of fossil fuel eliminated in a few short years replaced by clean wind and solar energy. The rush to reduce the dependence on fossil fuel had put his province on the road to desperate times. Companies began an exodus from the region; jobs quickly disappeared, and the rate of poverty escalated. Now at the mercy of Lucas and his People Of The Earth Foundation for money, Joiner once again agreed to do Lucas’ bidding. Then, against protests by the majority of the population, his provincial government began importing and installing towering metal turbines. Both for job creation and secondly to make up for the shortfall of energy required to run the province's day-to-day operations. The limo pulled out of the nearly deserted airport parking lot onto once-busy streets leading to the Parkway and on onward toward the south banks of the Ottawa River. Perched on the shores of that river sat Parliament Hill where the Canadian government conducted business. The silence in the limo hung awkwardly in the air. The limo drove slowly through streets strewn with abandoned vehicles. Some with the hoods open, numerous others solely discarded. Alice watched the outlandish site through the tinted car windows. After several miles, she addressed the Premier. “What happened to all the owners of these vehicles?” she asked. “I don’t understand why they would walk away from them.” Hugh Joiner thought long about his answer. The trip through clogged streets from the airport to the Parliament building was part of a plan he had devised to shock his guests before he issued a list of demands he felt his loyalty deserved. Before Lucas arrived, he had instructed his chauffeur to take this particular route in hopes that Lucas would notice the hardships he was putting upon this province. "We are in the midst of a severe gas shortage,” Joiner spoke to Alice. “Very few of the oil companies in this area can resupply their stations. Those that can have fallen victim to thieves and vandals and now have security guards watching the premises 24/7.” “How are people getting around, don’t they have jobs to attend?” the scope of the crisis striking Alice as she watched out the window in disbelief. The limo rolled slowly through the next intersection. The streetlights blank, the cars driver maneuvering the long black sedan around a slow procession of crawling cross traffic. Alice let her eyes follow the line of inching vehicles. At the end of the block, a gas station sat surrounded by all types of vehicles. Cars sat in line at the pumps. Doors flung open, drivers arguing and horns honking. Close to the pumps a fight had erupted. Men and women could be seen screaming and shoving, the shoving leading to fist fights. “My God!” she exclaimed. “What’s going on? What’s a matter with these people.” With a gasp, she pulled her face from the car window and with an expression of fear she let her gaze fall upon the Premier. Joiner shrugged throwing his hands in the air in a silent surrender. From under the shadow of his robe's hood, Lucas sat quietly studying the Premier. Several times he had flown into the Ottawa airport and never could he remember the driver taking this route to the Canadian Parliament. Obviously, this particular road was chosen for a purpose. The Ontario Premier wanted to make a point, and Lucas felt that the man had crossed a line and made a horrible error in subjecting Alice to the scenes outside the car. Lucas pressed a button set in the armrest. The button activated an intercom allowing him to communicate with the car's driver. “Turn at the next set of lights!” Lucas commanded and then issued explicit instructions for the driver to follow ending the Premiers tour of the hard-luck neighborhood. Without another word, he remained stoic until satisfied that the limo driver was obeying his order. Lucas turned his hooded face in the Premier's direction. “That was quite the...unexpected tour, Hugh,” Lucas remarked. “Next time you feel you need to pull this kind of shit to make a point with to me remember who you’re dealing with.” Some tense minutes had passed before Lucas spoke again. “What happened to all the money my foundation advanced you to assist the men and women of this province in the change from dirty oil to our clean energy program?” Hugh Joiner wilted under Lucas’ stare. The premier’s face changed to a scarlet red. Try as he might no answer was forthcoming. What had seemed to him like a smart idea a short while ago now left the Ontario Premier with thoughts of how he underestimated the man seated across from him? Joiner involuntarily shrugged, this time with the admission of error before casting his eyes to the floor of the car. “Where are the charging stations for the new electric cars? Hell, I have yet to notice any automobile even remotely looks like it’s gas free.” Lucas paused. The outrage he was feeling toward the politician barely contained. “We will certainly chat further about these things, and you had better have some well-thought answers!” Lucas roared. Outside the car, the evening had arrived early hastened by the leaden sky. Streetlights sporadically lit the interstate the limo was now traveling on. The light poles standing alongside the highway flickering on and off, dark periods when the lights were off growing longer, the car speeding down the road through an ethereal tunnel of concrete and metal. Alice gently placed her hand on Lucas’ arm to calm him down. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she searched his face, “I don’t understand?” she appealed to him. “Is this your great plan for the future of this planet. Return everyone to the dark ages. In the pale light of the limo's backseat Lucas peered deep into Alice’s eyes, a brief smile of reassurance on his shadowed face. Very gently he patted her ever-expanding belly. “Don’t worry yourself. You don’t need the stress,” he lowered his gaze to her stomach, “it won’t do you or our son any good.” April 20, 2019, Lake Maracaibo, Venezuela, Charles M. Ryan wrote on his notepad. SA Ryan stood on the outskirts of the massive decrepit oil refinery. The eco-terrorism Ryan started investigating in the United States a scant year earlier now found him flying to neighboring oil producing countries. Refineries and oil reserves worldwide all seemed to be targeted with an escalating rash of sabotage. Oil producing countries across the globe were panicked. Offshore oil platforms, the massive Saudi oil fields, and several OPEC country's reserves were threatened and attacked likewise. The producing governments agreed to form a task force to stop the siege on their oil production. Special Agent Charles M. Ryan acted as one of the lead field investigators appointed by this group. The huge Venezuelan oil port, the Mene Grande field sitting on the east shores of Lake Maracaibo was the most recent to fall to the terrorists unrelenting war on oil. SA Ryan stood amongst scores of police vehicles far back from the inferno that was still raging out of control feeding off the reserves of oil contained at the Lake refinery, the largest oil containment in OPEC member country of Venezuela. Ryan struggled to comprehend the fast, loud report from the Policia Nacional Captain Reinaldo Rueda Demara. Ryan’s Spanish severely lacked, so he turned to the interpreter assigned to him by the Venezuelan government and shrugged. “I can’t understand a damn thing he is saying. Can you ask him to calm down and we can start this interview again?” Charles asked interpreter Lisander Puentes. “Ask him if they’ve identified all the bodies caught in the explosion yet. I heard that some of the bombers were involved in a shootout with the refinery guards?” Ryan pleaded with Puentes. The humidity of the country, the acrid smell of the burning bitumen and most of all the damn bugs were starting to have an ill effect on his peaceful nature. Ryan had been awoken in the middle of the night by the bureau chief and told to catch a flight to Maracaibo, Venezuela. From there he was met by the interpreter and driven to the oil refinery. The eco-terrorists had snuck onto the grounds at Lake Maracaibo and were in the process of stringing explosives when the facility's guards came across them. A gun battle had ensued and in the thick of the fight, the planted bombs were detonated. The result was catastrophic. SA Ryan had read the brief on the terrorist attack while in flight. In the report, he learned that the intruders that hadn’t died when the bombs exploded but were surrounded and then gunned down by the guards as they attempted to escape. Now he stood breathing in the toxic fumes and hoped that he might be able to identify at least some of the slain terrorists in what would prove to be his first prominent lead. Lisander Puentes conversed rapidly with the Nacional Captain in a quick back and forth conversation. Lisander said a few last words to the Captain then spoke to Ryan in heavily accented English. “The good Captain asks that you follow him. He will take you to where the suspected terrorists lay.” “Good. Tell Captain Demara to lead on.” SA Ryan acknowledged then with Lisander Puentes followed the Venezuelan Policia Nacional Captain across the weed-strewn gravel parking lot toward a line of military trucks. The Venezuelan Captain rounded the closest vehicle and with a grim look swung his arm pointing to a row of tarp-covered bodies. The Captain spoke rapidly then watched as Lisander translated. “Captain Demara says you are free to check the men under the tarps. The three closest to us are the terrorists.” Charles M. Ryan stuffed his notepad into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, replacing it with his cell phone. Cautiously approaching the drab tarps, he knelt by the first body and pulled back the cover. The smell of the body made Ryan gag. With a concentrated effort he started breathing through his mouth, the stench a little more tolerable. Fumbling with his phone, he focused on the dead man’s face and snapped several pictures then replaced the tarp before he proceeded to the next corpse where he repeated the process. Ryan shuffled toward the third tarp and slowly pulled the canvas cover back. With his camera held ready, he glanced at the bloated face of the third terrorist. Ryan did a double take and felt his breath rush out. Even swollen, the face of the third man was very familiar. SA Ryan wracked his brain searching for the corpses name that temporarily evaded him. The man had at one time been well known back in the States, and the people he worked for were very vocal against the extraction and use of fossil fuels. The burning acid in his stomach rose in into his chest. With a small consolation, Ryan snapped several photos. His instincts were proven right again. Vindicated, he squatted and thoughtfully regarded the face of the dead man. Suddenly he had a renewed hope in his investigation. Replacing the tarp, Charles stood up and snatched his cigarettes from an inside coat pocket. Offering the pack to the Venezuelan interpreter and then the Captain he pulled a slim white cigarette out and touched a flame to the end then contemplated his next move as he sucked the smoke deep into his lungs. Releasing the pent-up smoke Ryan thumbed through the last few pictures he had taken. The third man’s name still evaded him. Checking the phone for service, he attached the pictures of the three bombers into an email, added a short note then sent the message to FBI headquarters back in the United States. A please hurry with identification ended the message. Captain Demara of the Policia Nacional broke through his thoughts with a quick burst of Spanish. Ryan lifted his eyes from his phone and glanced at the Captain. He watched the policeman’s mouth speak the foreign words then switched his gaze to his interpreter for a translation. “The Captain says that you seem thoughtful. He is wondering if there is something about the corpses you took pictures of that have got you thinking?” Lisander translated then nodded toward the police Captain. “I think we may have hit pay dirt.” SA Ryan exclaimed. Lisander Puentes shot a questioning look at him. Ryan quickly realized his answer. Tossing the remains of his cigarette onto the gravel, he ground it out under his boot before he raised his head and looked the Captain in the eyes as he spoke to Lisander. “The third body. I know the man. I have sent his picture along with the other two to FBI headquarters for confirmation. Shortly we should have a solid lead into who is responsible for the acts of terrorism against the world's energy deposits.” ***** Lucas stared out the window of his private jet. He had asked the pilot to fly at a lower altitude as the plane entered Canadian airspace. The pilot lowered the plane to five thousand feet as it crossed the Michigan border into the Canadian province of Ontario. Lucas allowed himself a small smile at the sight that unfolded under the low flying aircraft. “Alice. Look out your window,” he calmly exclaimed. Returning his eyes to the plane's small window, he gazed at the landscape of Canada’s largest province. Miles and miles of sky reaching wind turbines filled the countryside. Where once stood nothing but scores of trees around the great lakes was replaced with energy producing stalwarts of the clean energy era. Lucas had made the trip by request of the Ontario Premier, Hugh Joiner. The province had climbed aboard the clean energy train years before other North American regions and although the push against fossil fuels was a hard vocal fight against the majority of the people of the province the Ontario premier held fast. With the assistance of the new Canadian government had set an example and led the country in its bid to be free of fossil fuel use. The briefing Lucas held in his hands, dated two days ago on the 18th day of April 2019, went into great detail explaining how the Province fought against the outcry of its people and had forged ahead with the installation of thousands of these towering turbines. The population of the province grudgingly came on board with the creation of hundreds of thousands of jobs needed to build and install the turbines and solar parks. The unemployment rate had climbed to an astonishing 40 percent so for the sakes of providing a living the working population replaced their anger with work. The green energy industry was now the largest employer in the province. Lucas set aside the report. “What do you think?” he asked Alice. “After years of butting our heads against the wall, we finally see the rewards of our hard work.” Alice sat looking down at the metal forest. To her the site was atrocious. The beautiful lakes now surrounded by mounds of earth and metal structures. These thoughts she kept quiet. Lucas had worked tirelessly for years to see his dream start to materialize; her thoughts were not important. “Are the people happy now?” she questioned. She had seen news reports from this country highlighting the fight between the politicians and the residents regarding the cost of tax dollars and the exodus of jobs as energy prices soared. “They will be soon,” Lucas reassured her, “This new industry has created many much-needed jobs, and one day the price of energy will subside as more power is produced to replace what they lost with the banning of oil and its derivatives.” Mollified, Alice changed the subject. “Have you heard from Professor Ender yet? He has been missing for several months now. Any word? “No. I have heard rumors that he was traveling, but I haven’t talked to him for quite some time. The last time, in fact, was when the two of us went for supper a couple of months ago. He did state that he was growing weary and wanted time to himself.” “Oh,” Alice replied and swung her head back to the planes window. Lucas regarded his longtime companion. With her, he had always talked freely, but he still held back a lot of the details involved in freeing the world from its oil addiction. Most of the stuff he held back was for her peace of mind. Alice didn’t have the fortitude to deal with the harsh reality of what the process required. Dealing with the liability of the Professor one of those realities. Back and away from the still riled up crowd Charles M. Ryan kicked at the pavement casually glancing at the hooded figure work the media. Reaching for a cigarette he cupped his hands to shield the lighters flame. Quite the speech he admitted to himself. The robed Lucas certainly had a way with crowds and with the destroyed refinery in the background the scene couldn’t have played out better. Makes one wonder about the timing of both the refinery explosion and the sudden appearance of the media named climate prophet. SA Ryan leaned against a car, his thoughts bouncing between the still raging industrial fire on one side and the crowd and cameras following the retreat of the robed figure on the other end, the acid in his stomach burning. On instincts alone Ryan had no doubts that the explosion wasn’t accidental, nor were several others that had plagued the energy industry lately. Of that, he would gladly bet on. He ran through what he had discovered about Lucas and the global green conglomerate he fronted. In the last several years Lucas' popularity had grown immensely. The environmental foundation he led had, as far as Ryan could determine, now encompassed all the smaller environmental groups into one massive, well-funded organization. The scope and money now commanded by Lucas' People Of The Environment were unfathomable. The foundation had assets exceeding the G.D.P. of numerous smaller countries and was starting to bend countries governments to their will. A very dangerous situation indeed, Charles thought. To his way of thinking, the countries Lucas’ foundation couldn’t control yet were subjected to a form of environmental terrorism like the refinery accident he was now investigating. SA Ryan kept his assumptions to himself. Try as he might he had yet to uncover anything even remotely to a link between Lucas, his P.O.T.E. foundation, and the industrial accidents. But that wouldn’t stop his inquiries. His instincts had proven right more often than not. ***** ‘You do realize that the authorities will start to make a connection between our foundation and the accidents that are now regularly occurring across the globe if they haven’t already.” Professor Ender sarcastically bated Lucas. “What good is this plan of yours if we all end up in prison?” Lucas gazed up from behind the documents he had been reviewing. “What’s the matter, professor? I think you of all people would be ecstatic that the public opinion is swaying in our favor.” Lucas goaded, “Isn’t that why you joined the movement in the first place. All the money and fancy hotels along the way, the notoriety you’ve gained. Please don’t tell me that you are only in it for the money?” Lucas shot back. “I agree that the unfortunate problems plaguing the energy industry serve a purpose. We’ve talked about this before, and I am growing tired of repeating myself.” Lucas paused seeing the disapproval in the other man’s eyes. “Surely… you don’t think I have anything to do with these unlawful acts of sabotage?” Ender silently studied Lucas’ face. “You do have to admit that the increase in eco-terrorism is is very fitting to your plan…and you do make a point of appearing at many of the mishaps always standing in front of the cameras reminding the world of the dangers of dirty energy.” “The whole idea of our crusade is to convince the people who fool themselves into thinking that fossil fuels are safe and not causing harm to the earth, otherwise,” Lucas continued as if speaking to a child, his patience wearing thin. “We need to make them climb off the fence and take a stand. Those people need a shove in the right direction, and we are providing the shove.” He leveled the pages he held in his hands on the table and meticulously set them flat on the desk before glancing back up at the professor. With a tired smile, he shrugged off Ender’s sarcasm. “Besides, I am confident that the sabotage, eco-terrorism, whatever they are calling it these days is the work of some overzealous protesters. A phase that will run its course, but it does manage to keep the world's eyes off of what we are trying to achieve.” “Which is exactly what?” Ender questioned, “You have been very tight lipped about your ultimate plan, even with those of us who are your confidants. What exactly is our end goal.” “All in good time my friend,” Lucas mollified. “When the time is right I guarantee that you will be one of the first to know. Now, why don't you fetch yourself a drink? I will be finished here in a minute. I have a couple of calls to make and tell you what. What say I spring for supper?” Lucas smiled again reassuring the professor. Dismissed, Ender turned to leave Lucas’ office. Lucas’ eyes remained on Ender's back as he retreated closing the office door. Lucas spent the next few minutes staring at the wooden door. Decision time, he realized. The professor was nearing the end of his use and combined with his increasing pennant for drinking Lucas wondered how long before the Anthony Ender's love of talking would result in the wrong person finding out details of the operation. Even with the little the professor knew it certainly could do damage if he blabbed to the wrong people. Chasing the thought from his head he resumed reading the report the professor had so rudely interrupted. A slight smile lifted the ends of his mouth. The report was from a subsidiary north of the border. An election was taking place in Canada. A candidate that he had agreed upon and backed with the foundation's money was starting to gain in the polls. The old Canadian Prime Minister was a stout denier of climate change and thus served none of Lucas’ wishes. This new leader of the opposition's ideas aligned more closely with Lucas’ green initiatives and without a doubt would be easy to manipulate. The man was short in political experience but long in his self-serving nature. Lucas knew that once the man was elected, he would quickly fold to the loud outcry from the very vocal green movement in that country. The millions the foundation was pouring into Canada to discredit the current government and bolster his candidate was now seeing positive returns. Canada had always been an easy country to manipulate. The scores of militant green coalitions in that country had proven this theory numerous times with their simple, law-breaking protests that had become the norm up north. The country sat on the third largest oil reserves in the world and yet the environmental groups with the assistance of lawyers and special interest groups had all but paralyzed the oil industry rendering Canada’s energy sector useless. Lucas was aware that he still had to keep a close eye on the upcoming election but that country looked like it was well on it’s way to falling under his control. Returning to the papers to his desk, Lucas rubbed his weary eyes. His plan was good. He could save the earth from the nightmares that haunted him and at the same time spare the lives of the billions of oblivious inhabitants. The task was daunting, but he was determined. Rather, he had no choice. The nightmares continued to fill his mind day and night, and he hoped by what he was doing to save the world would provide an escape from the tortured visions. One last report to glance through he promised and picked up the paper from California. Another territory where he had the upper hand and actually, not just California but the whole west coast right up through Alaska. The people on the coast were more attuned to the problems affecting the environment, and he was certain that there would be no problem bringing them into the fold of his anti-fossil fuel future. Those states were already heavily invested in solar panels and wind power, pushing the boundaries on clean energy. Funny, he thought, especially with the amount of oil the state of California produced, that they stood out as leaders in clean energy. He shrugged and set the report from the coast down. Things were slowly moving in his favor. Grabbing the reports off his desk he slid open a drawer in his desk and placed the papers inside then safely locked them away. With elbows propped on his desk, he rested his chin on tented fingers, his thoughts returning to the professor. Now was as good as any to deal with that problem. Lucas mind trotted out options to deal with Professor Ender. Deciding on one that was appropriate for the man, he reached for the desk phone. One call and then he would take the man to dinner to thank him properly for his years of dedication. The police continued to investigate the terrible explosion that had killed and wounded so many workers at the Oklahoma refinery. The day was slowly marching toward evening as the police cordoned off the area. Vehicles pulled were to the side and crowded the ditches lining the only road that led to the hundred acre industrial site. Worried family members, employees who escaped the blast unharmed, local, state and federal police littered the surrounding area followed by a convoy of news vans. The media spread out over the fields at the edge of the refinery property, reporters stood with their backs to the carnage as cameramen shot continuous video of the firefighters battling the still burning inferno and the fleet of paramedics wheeling gurneys with bodies, some covered with sheets. FBI special agent Charles M. Ryan walked the perimeter of the blast site stopping now and then to bend close to the ground and study pieces of debris strewn about the compound. The blazing fire was keeping him from wandering too close to the remains of the acres of pipelines and damaged buildings. As he came across local or state troopers he would start conversations, quiz them on what they had witnessed while writing down the descriptions in a small pad he kept in his breast pocket. SA Ryan ended his sojourn, positioning himself between the burning remnants of the destroyed facility and the main road leading into the parking lot. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead removing beads of sweat that had accumulated on his brow. Whether from the scorching sun on this hot August afternoon or from the massive fire Ryan couldn’t decide. All he knew was that it was sweltering on the asphalt where he stood. He left his hand on his forehead to shade his eyes as he gazed first at the blacktop road that merged with the lot and then the array of reporters. Squinting his eyes, he noticed the cameras on display focused on the battles waged between the burning refinery and the firefighters attempting to quell the blaze. To say he was expectant was an understatement. This tragedy was the third to touch the American Midwest in as many months, and unless he was sorely mistaken, the party had yet to arrive. The reason for this rash of industrial accidents was now his problem to uncover. Shortly after the Missouri pipeline explosion last month that had poured millions of barrels of oil into the mighty Mississippi river he had received a call from the D.C. headquarters ordering his office to carry the investigation. The sabotage had crossed state lines at that time making it an FBI matter. Add to that the outcries from the highly organized green movement and the situation was spiraling out of control. In the short time, SA Ryan had begun his investigation he had noticed that if the trend continued, he could be expecting a very vocal opponent of the fossil fuel industry, a man who now made it a career to slam the energy sector whenever one of these so-called accidents erupted. As if on cue the din from the waiting onlookers quieted. The cameras trained on the facility and the firefighting efforts rotated on their tripods. Down the center of the asphalt road strode a robed figure, a hood covering the man’s head blocking his face from view. The robe flowed and fluttered in the slight breeze as the figure walked toward the police barricade that blocked the entrance to the parking lot. Charles M. Ryan swore under his breath. An undetermined number of wounded and dead caused by the explosion and now the circus makes an appearance. As the robed figure drew closer, Ryan noticed a mid aged female and a rather rotund man keeping pace with the robed figure. Not a surprise, Charles thought but still an unwanted pain in the ass. From his vantage point, Ryan watched the reporters and their cameramen leave their stations and rush to converge on the robed figure. Shuffling a cigarette out of his pocket and with a spin of the lighter’s wheel Ryan touched the flame to the end of his smoke. Mopping his brow a second time he slowly moved away from the fire and the horrific scene behind him and slowly strode toward the gathering media show. Curious to get a closer look at the man under the robe in person, SA Ryan stepped in behind a cluster of cameras to see the self-proclaimed savior of the environment for himself. The man is not camera shy Ryan determined as the acid in his gut flared up. So far SA Ryan has been unable to pin any of the recent activity on the robed figure, but the screaming in his gut signaled that the man had something to do with these accidents. He conceded that this was all too much of a coincidence to be ignored. The robed figure that slowly walked down the road toward the cameras had made a habit of appearing at the rash of similar type incidents that had begun to plague the world. The robe and his entourage parading in front of the cameras extolling the dangers of the continued use of fossil fuels to the world media and the increasing risk it presented to human lives and the environment, namely the climate. Ryan focused his eyes on the front of the man’s hooded face willing his eyes to see the features shaded beneath the brown cloth. He tried to recall the man’s appearance from years old file pictures. From his research, Charles’ knew the man once went by the name Lucas but over time the media began referring to this clown, and this is where Ryan struggled, who in the hell wanted to be called a Climate Prophet. ***** Lucas walked down the center of the worn asphalt road, his hands clasped together hanging in front of his body. Moving with a slow and determined pace, he gazes straight ahead at the burning catastrophe that until recently was a very productive oil refinery. The lights from the fleet of emergency vehicles flash red and blue over the twisted and burning remains while responders tackle the blaze. The view facing him is surreal. Firefighters and paramedics methodically comb the scene searching and pulling bodies out of the area, a metal melting inferno their nemesis. Pulling up short of the police barricade, Lucas stands motionlessly, his eyes taking in the eerie scene that unfolds on the far side of the massive parking lot. Lucas studies the scene from behind the police blockade then turns, his face a mask, hidden in the shadows of the robes hood. The din of the crowd of onlookers and the scurrying of feet and equipment from the reporters growing louder as the group's attention shifts from the scene of the explosion to his robed figure. Remaining stolid, Lucas watches through shaded eyes while the crush of the crowd tightens around him. A young reporter timidly draws closer to him, her microphone held in an outstretched hand. “Do you have any remarks Mr. Lucas?” she asks. Lucas studies her then lets his eyes roam over the quickly gathering crowd making a point of glancing back at the out of control inferno burning in the background. “Tragic,” he espouses, “The lives of so many hard working people put at risk. And for what.” He speaks slowly, the concern dripping from his voice. “Unfortunate that the greed of a few has to have such disastrous consequences for their fellow human beings.” Mumbling his next statement the reporters are forced to crowd closer. “A ticking time bomb,” he quietly announces. “The continued abuse of the earth and her resources has to stop before life on this planet ends for all of us.” With the complete attention of the local media and the microphones now inches from his face Lucas launches into a diatribe aimed at denouncing the world’s use of fossil fuels. With practiced ease, Lucas carefully shows compassion for the injured and dead. At the same time, he stoutly places the blames of the grieving public on the backs of the energy giants responsible for exploiting the resources found deep in the ground. From there he smoothly transitions to the climate-denying politicians whom continually allowed such atrocities. Lucas’ voice grows in tenor as he speaks. The anger he now carries about the pending destruction of the climate seething out. With a captivating passion, he warns once again of the world’s persistence to destroy the very earth and by association the people inhabiting it with the constant use of dirty oil. The worst evil that confronts humanity, he repeats, before making another show of pointing to the emergency workers busy retrieving the injured and dead with the inferno burning around them. “This is what awaits us in hell!” his voice now a loud and commanding. “Are we in such a rush to get there that we have to recreate it here on earth with no regard for our fellow man.” Lucas halts and surveys the people hanging on his words before focusing back on the cameras. “I grow tired of this fight. The individuals in power continue to ignore my warnings and then make feeble attempts to excuse their actions at times like these. How many more people will die because of their ignorance and greed?" Lucas swipes the robe’s hood off his head, his eyes a dark black as he peers straight into the camera lens. “Do we continue to let the politicians and businessmen tempt fate with their dangerous game and our lives? I SAY NO MORE!" Lucas stops and breathes deeply than in a quieter voice, "I will not give up the fight to save our planet. Every time a needless loss of innocent lives occur, every time another assault on mother earth takes place, I will be there.” Lucas hesitated, before pleading to the camera audience, ” JOIN ME NOW! I cannot win this battle alone.” The small crowd of concerned onlookers muted murmurings grow louder signaling their approval. Several of the reporters join the chanting crowd, forgetting for a moment the professional duties expected of them. Lucas waits silently letting the crowd quiet down before dramatically raising the robe’s hood back over his head. With the cameras following his moves he takes one last look at the industrial carnage then rotating on his heels he retraces his steps away from the crowd and the police barricade leaving the smell of the burning fire behind. Lucas stopped in front of the hotel window and stared down at the traffic 14 floors below. He looked without seeing. Since being released from the hospital two days ago, he had silently paced the spacious interior of the room. He realized that his mind had changed. He struggled to get a grasp on his thoughts. He now viewed the world differently. No longer was he some bitter, drug-addicted, entitled rich kid. He awoke in the hospital bed with a much clearer definition regarding his role in life.
Night after night in the hospital, Lucas had fought with the demons in his mind as the traces of drugs ravaged his body and soul producing nightmares that had him screaming and writhing to escape. A vision of the world appeared, a world where the oceans had once again reclaimed the coastal regions wiping out entire populations. The ice caps and glaciers were a thing of the past. The remaining population on earth living on lands scorched by the sun and then a world devoid of humans. When Lucas finally awoke back into the real world his mind had changed. The memories of the young man who was mad at the world for not giving him everything he requested faded. He awoke with a purpose. Save the planet from the abusers who would destroy it. Now every waking and sleeping moment the dreams from the hospital haunted him pushing him forward to be the savior of the planet. How could he explain what he had seen, who would understand the perils of the planet as he had witnessed. Barely speaking to anyone since he awoke from his drug induced nightmares he knew things would be different. Alice had sat by his side through his ranting and ravings as the drugs left his body and for that he would be eternally grateful, but he failed to find a way to explain his visions to her. How could he put into words the feeling he now felt when he didn’t understand them himself. He peeled away from the window and continued his pacing, his eyes seeing all but noticing nothing. A sound from the couch broke through his racing mind. With a faraway look in his eyes, he turned toward the noise. Professor Ender returned his gaze; Alice also glanced up at him, sitting a cushion away. “Enough of this shit already,” the professor, said. “For the last couple of days, you’ve walked around this room like a god damn zombie. What is going on in that twisted brain of yours?” Ender demanded. Lucas carried his gaze past the professor and Alice, his sight taking in two other occupants of the room, Jim Gregory of the Green Earth Foundation and Simon Hestor of the Blue Environment Project. The two men quickly averted their eyes as Lucas’ head turned in their direction. Jim Gregory cleared his throat as he found his voice. “Professor Ender is right. We need to know what has happened to you. You’ve been acting strange ever since you left the hospital. What’ up?” Gregory asked the question as gingerly as he could. His foundation had a lot riding on Lucas. Over the past couple of years the young man in front of him had done more for the environmental left then the leagues of green foundations had made in a lifetime. The last thing Gregory wanted was for Lucas to get angry and decide to leave. Since Lucas had signed on the rate of people joining one group or the other had skyrocketed. Donations were at an all-time high, and the green cause was at the forefront of people’s minds. The news was now filled almost daily with free green propaganda. No sir, Gregory thought, we certainly can’t afford to lose our golden goose. Not now when the whole movement had moved forward in giant leaps. “What are your plans?” Gregory swallowed before whispering the question. Lucas resumed his pacing. Raising a hand to his jaw, he rubbed his chin, his face now covered with a beard that had started growing in the hospital. “Come on Lucas,” Ender cried, “talk to us. I’m tired of this silent treatment. We’ve got work to do, and I need to know if you are with us? Lucas spun on his heals and through narrowed eyelids he calmly locked eyes with the professor. With his hand still stroking his beard, he patiently stared down the man who was responsible for dragging him into the environmental movement. Carefully considering his next words Lucas remained quiet. “I say we get our show back on the road. We have canceled enough speaking tours waiting for our young friend to recuperate.” Ender challenged. “I for one am getting cabin fever. We need to get out there and spread the word while we still have momentum on our side.” Lucas considered the professor’s statement. “NO,” he spoke. “No more words. For years, all we have done is spout nothing but rhetoric and hold our hands out for money.” Lucas fell silent again. “What have we accomplished…not a thing! We jet set around the world spreading nothing but false promises and living lavishly in five-star hotels.” Keeping his eyes locked on the professor he continued. “If you want me to remain, things will have to change.” “Change how?” Simon Hestor chimed in. “We’ve traveled the world and enticed millions to join our cause, but still the environment is under assault. The climate deniers laugh at us as we go about our dog and pony show. It’s time to make them pay!” “Pay how?” Ender said tersely. “We have swung public opinion in our favor; we have protests knocking at several of the large polluters doors interrupting their production. I think our cause is doing great things.” “Great things,” Lucas let out a spiteful laugh. “Great things like filling our coffers so we can live like kings. Is this all we are trying to accomplish. Soon our good professor won’t be able to buy suits big enough to cover his ever-increasing girth and…” Lucas trailed off. His mind flashed back to when he and Alice had first joined the professor. His brown eyes turned a rage filled black as he remembered the things Alice had told him of the way the professor had shoved his will upon her. Lucas held back with the recriminations. Those he decided he would keep to himself for now. He would deal with the professor’s shortcomings on his own. “Hey. Is it wrong to enjoy ourselves? People are donating money of their own free will.” Hestor smirked at his own statement. “We are holding the energy companies to account, particularly when you are involved. The big polluters have no answer for you or your tactics. They are running scared so what’s the problem?” “The problem is that all we’ve done is take people's money and given them nothing in return other than a little sideshow. No more!” A startling clarity entered Lucas’ mind. The trouble he had had sorting his thoughts since leaving the hospital disappeared. The answers he had been searching for on how to solve the impending threat of climate change and at the same time make the deniers pay unfolded as he stood in the middle of the hotel room. “We have banded most of the enviro groups together, haven’t we?” he tossed the question out. “Yes. Most of them have joined with us.” Gregory replied. “And what kind of funds do we have to operate with?” Lucas continued. “I’m not certain,” Hestor, answered, “ I believe it’s in the billions.” “Jim. You and Alice work at bringing the remaining environmental foundations together under us. We can’t fight this attack on the environment separately.” Lucas said. “Wait a minute, who made you boss,” Ender stammered. Lucas raised his hand to silence the professor. “From now on I run this organization,” he said to Gregory and Hestor. “If you don’t agree I can certainly find others who will,” he threatened. “Do what?” Gregory asked timidly. “We must stop the deniers before the earth is no longer able to sustain human life.” Lucas intoned. “For too long our planet has been under attack. Gentlemen, I propose we take a more affirmative stance in protecting her. From this moment on we are at war against those who want to continue blindly destroying our planet.” Lucas withdrew into his thoughts. When he spoke again, it was in an eerie whisper. “We will show the deniers and ravagers of earth and her climate a war they could never foresee. We will end the use of fossil fuels the only way possible. Mark today as the beginning of the most important fight for our planet. The start of the climate wars.” Lucas gazed out at the throngs of people blocking the streets in front of the massive refineries. Traffic on all the streets surrounding the site was gridlocked. Horns honked their own protest against the thousands of people packing the busy roadways with banners and signs raised in the air. “Lucas, Lucas,” the crowd chanted his name drowning out the squeal of sirens and the police bullhorns. Another city held hostage by yet another anti-oil demonstration. Turning his eyes to the sky, he studied the clouds that had floated in during the afternoon. Dark and threatening, rain definitely, hail a good possibility. Lucas zipped his coat tighter to ward off the brisk wind blowing in from the Gulf. With his eyes trained on the ominous clouds, his mind drifted back a couple of years to when he became involved with the professor and the anti-oil movement. No, that was wrong he corrected himself, not anti-oil. Climate change. That was the catch phrase this movement was all about now. Lucas strained to remember how he had become involved in the first place. The last couple of years had passed in a blur. Something to do with his folks he seemed to recall but for the life of him, he couldn’t nail down the reason. Lucas vaguely remembered attending university when this had all transpired. After that things grew foggy. The professor had taken him in, and Lucas had done what the man had asked of him. Now thousands upon thousands of people joined him, cheered his name and treated him like a celebrity whenever and wherever he was protesting. Lucas lowered his eyes from the looming clouds. The large crowd of followers shouted and waved their hands, some holding placards denouncing dirty oil and corporate greed. Large banners with pictures of desecrated land bounced in the air. Suddenly the crowd grew louder. Lucas peered toward the ruckus. Through the wall of bodies, he watched as flashes of police uniforms appeared as they fought their way through the riled bystanders. Knowing that his arrest was imminent Lucas quickly dug out his pouch of marijuana and proceeded to roll a couple of joints. Sticking the finished cigarettes in his mouth, he lit both sticks with the same match then slid one out of his mouth and looked Alice in the eyes. The two of them had been in this position too many times to count. He handed off the second cigarette to Alice. He let his eyes linger on her. She looked like shit. Her hair was greasy, and her eyes were two black holes sunken in a gaunt, shrunken face. How had she come to be like this Lucas wondered, too may drugs he figured? He’d have to talk with Alice one of these days about her drug problem if he could remember. His mind wasn’t what it used to be. “It’s time,” he muttered and drew the smoke deep into his lungs as he fished a set of handcuffs out of his back pocket. Clamping one over Alice’s wrist he fed the remaining cuff around a pair of posts at the refinery entrance and then snapped the cuff over his wrist effectively locking the large gates leading into the grounds. The entrance now blocked, Lucas swung his head back toward the crowds of demonstrators. News cameras spun between him and Alice and the front line of protestors. The police uniforms battled their way to the front. A couple of the cities finest broke through the human barricade, one of the cops brandishing a pair of bolt cutters. The potent drug of the marijuana mixed with the uppers he had consumed a short while ago. The action in front of Lucas appeared to him in slow motion. His brain was sluggish to record the events as they were unfolding. The police officers stepped closer. Lucas watched their mouths move, but the words failed to register in his ears. One of the officers stopped a few feet in front of Lucas. The man’s face morphing from human to demon to...Lucas stared, his mouth open. Sweat began to trickle from his scalp and run down the sides of his face. The officer/demon leaned closer. A pair of bulging eyes came within inches of his face, a huge gaping mouth with rows of razor sharp teeth and foul demon breath crowded Lucas back tight to the wire gates. Panicking, Lucas twisted to avoid the beast. He yanked on the handcuff tying his hand to the gate. A woman screamed close beside him. Lucas was too scared to look. His attention wholly focused on the beast standing in front. A blood-curdling cry left his mouth. Raising his free hand, Lucas pinched the joint in his fingers before flicking the lit cigarette into the beast's face. The demon raised a large club. With horror, Lucas shrank to avoid the sting of the demons weapon taking the hit on the top of his skull. The demon raised his weapon again. Then thankfully Lucas felt peace. A welcoming blackness closed in on him as he slid to the ground. Now, if only that woman’s screaming would stop. ***** A painful white light shot into Lucas’ brain as his eyelids fluttered open. His vision was blurred as he looked around. He heard whispered voices. He must be in heaven he reasoned. His head felt like it rested on a cloud. With determination he forced his eyelids wide, the bright light blinding him briefly. He lay still as his eyesight cleared. He was in a room, a white room with curtain walls. Without moving his head he stared straight up, a white panel ceiling came into focus. Lucas rolled his head to the side when he felt a hand grasp his. A young, beautiful girl stood to the side. Beside her were a serious, older man and another man dressed in white. Slowly Lucas’ memories seeped back. “Alice. What am I doing here?” he asked. Alice leaned in closer. The rims of her eyes were wet with tears. “You’ve been here for the last couple of months,” Alice sobbed. “We weren’t sure if you would come back to us.” She clutched both his hands in hers and laid her head on his chest. “I don’t understand,” he eyed her wearily before glancing up at the two men. “What happened? How did I get hurt?” Professor Ender smiled down at Lucas. “For now, you rest and get better. We will explain everything in due time.” The professor patted Lucas on the shoulder reassuringly. “But right now let the doctor take care of you. I need you back soon, young man. We have important work to do, lots of greedy corporate climate deniers to be visited. It’s what our followers want. They want us to save the planet.” Lucas cocked his head and through narrowed eyes studied the professor. Flashes of large crowds and police and oil and corporations ran through his head like a slide show before a sudden clarity chased them away. In that instant, Lucas knew what he had to do. It was evident to him that he was on this earth for a reason and one reason only. That reason was to protect the planet and its environment at all costs. His face relaxed and in a very calm tone, he spoke to the professor. “Do you mean that we should continue our little charade and put on a dog and pony show for the media while we do nothing to stop the capitalists from destroying this planet?” Professor Ender cleared his throat, sheepishly avoiding Lucas’ face while he replied. “Well, I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly but yes we have to stand up to those determined to destroy the earth in their selfish drive to deplete her of her resources, the climate be damned.” Ender turned to Alice for her support. “By using large groups of people to block streets and by chaining myself to buildings and equipment so we can claim we are doing good and keeping our funding flowing. You think that we’ve helped slow global warming. Do you believe we’ve done one bit of good?” Lucas raised his voice. Ender looked between Lucas and Alice and shrugged. In a quiet voice, he argued. “We have done great things. Our gatherings now attract thousands and thousands of people, millions worldwide and the international media covers all our demonstrations,” the professor concluded, the argument sounding weak even as he said it. Lucas was the reason for the large turnouts and international media coverage and the severely increased funding from the multitude of environmental groups. “You get yourself mended, and when you’re healthy, you’ll see that what we are doing is important.” Lucas answered with a resounding, “No.” “When I come back we will do things differently. No more speeches and protests. The deniers had their warnings. Now we fight them on my terms,” he said before falling silent. Professor Ender was caught off guard by the young Pensworth’s anger. He watched the boy stalk away from where he stood and stormed toward the main doors. The riled crowd of protesters soon broke rank and rushed to catch up with Lucas. Enders turned his face toward the news cameras, his face a mask of concern for the world to see. Inside the professor cheered. He hadn’t known what to imagine from this hastily thought through plan, but obviously, things had turned out far better than he could have expected.
***** The professor followed Alice into the hotel room, removed his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair. Exhaustion beat down on him after the long day. The unscheduled march on Pensworth Oil and Gas, then the unexpected rampage started by Lucas. He stood leaning on the chair as he replayed the tirade in his mind. The way Lucas stormed into the glass tower owned by his father, then the crowd of demonstrators who followed the young Pensworth inside. The buildings security being brushed aside as the flash mob began smashing objects in the grand lobby of the building. All this captured on cameras by the media. Ender smiled as he relived the scene of destruction the mob imparted on the buildings entrance. His smile increased as he recalled the flashing lights and the rush of cars when the police arrived. Lucas and several other protestors were handcuffed and marched out of the building all under the scrutiny of the news cameras. The professor hadn’t known what to expect when he hijacked the demonstration at city hall and on a spur led the crowds through the busy streets toward the gleaming office tower bearing Lucas’ family name. But that impromptu march, he realized couldn’t have been better planned. “What are you going to do about Lucas?” Alice’s stern voice cut into his thoughts interrupting his mood. “We certainly can’t leave him in jail,” she stood firmly planted a few steps away from where Ender stood, her face wrought with concern. He glanced over at her almost forgetting that she had accompanied him back to the hotel. “No, definitely not,” he answered quickly to mollify her. “Go clean up or order supper. Whatever you need and let me worry about our friend. I’ll call down to the police station and find out about having him released.” Ender waited as Alice left the room then wondered over to the corner bar and poured a two fingers of scotch into a glass before rummaging through the inside pocket of his jacket for an expensive Cuban cigar. Clipping the end of the cigar, he slid open the patio door and settled into a chair. Resting his feet on the balcony rail, he held a wooden match to the Cuban then raised his glass in a mock salute to his good fortune. The smug smile returned to his face. He was in no hurry to find out how Lucas fared after the altercation at the Pensworth building. The police let him go with a warning for his illegal disruption of traffic caused by his march; their primary concern was for Lucas and the other demonstrators and the anxiety their short rampage caused. Ender drew the acrid smoke into his lungs washing it down with another sip of the scotch. He needed to find a way to keep Alice calm while he waited for Lucas’ outburst to play out. The media had lapped up the scene from earlier like he suspected they would, in fact, they had gotten more footage for their coverage then he previously had planned when the idea of the march had come to his mind. The castaway son of an international oil baron rises from the gutter to champion the cause of environmental stewardship and returns to confront his father. Ender rolled the headline around in his head. If he were writing tomorrow’s column that is the byline, he would use. He had already decided that any phone calls about the boy’s welfare would wait until the morning. He wanted to see the effect today’s events had on the media. If the story sold a lot of papers and garnished a lot of attention then he would have the cameras meet him at the police station in the morning as he fought for Lucas’ release. If the media ignored today’s debacle, then poor Lucas was probably not worth his time. With another puff of the cigar, he focused on what he lies he would tell Alice to comfort her until morning arrived. The sound of the running shower drifted through the open balcony door. Maybe Lucas’ famous last name wasn’t the only good fortune to come his way recently. A little charm and a shoulder to cry on, anything could happen he thought as he stubbed the cigar out and tilted the glass of scotch back before heading for the bathroom. ***** Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window. Ender opened his eyes slowly. His head pounded, and his brain was foggy. He lay on his back trying to remember the previous night. The jackhammering in his head increased as he tilted his head to the side. The sheets beside him were rumpled but empty. Struggling against the constant throbbing, thoughts of last night slowly worked back into his foggy brain. The briefest of smiles tilted the ends of his mouth. It had taken him a lot more drinks and several of Alice’s joints before she relented and gave into him. What had he promised her he wondered? With great care, he swung his legs to the floor and then strode to the ensuite. ***** With a towel wrapped around his torso, he walked from the bedroom into the main room of the hotel. His hands busy toweling his hair dry. Alice sat scrunched up against the end of the couch; her attention focused on the TV. A taped feed of a reporter from yesterday's clash at Pensworth building was talking about the aftermath of the sudden march from the city hall steps. The news cut back to the studio as the anchor updated the story. Professor Ender leaned across Alice and picked up the TV remote. He switched to another cable channel. The story played out the same. Ender’s headache eased as he watched repeats of yesterday’s event. So far so good he thought to himself. Turning his eyes away from the news he glanced down at Alice. “Morning,” he said cheerily. Alice mumbled a response her eyes avoiding his. Ender shrugged, tossed the remote on the couch near her and strolled back to his room. He picked his phone off the bedside table and glanced at the screen. Several texts waited. He quickly read them as he scrolled down the screen. Some he immediately dismissed, but others caused him to read over. “Finally, we have something newsworthy enough to advance our cause,” read one. “Congratulations. Finding the Pensworth boy was a stroke of genius,” read another. Ender smiled. Between the news coverage and the texts, he started to push back the nagging worries about having his funding stopped and his rock star lifestyle end. The professor made a few well-placed phone calls. Finished on the phone, he dressed swiftly and sauntered back into the main room. He couldn’t wait to give Alice some good news. “Grab your things,” he beamed at her, “I have the car waiting. We are heading for the police station. It’s simply deplorable how they locked poor Lucas away.” Ender piled on the shit. “We must have him released before he has to suffer anymore. And don’t worry," he continued, "I’ve notified the press. I will be giving a statement condemning the abhorred treatment of our good friend. Outrageous, really when you think about how the wealthy can use the police to do their bidding whenever someone questions their morals!” The professor escorted Alice to the elevator. On the way down to the lobby, his mind was filled with thoughts of how he could continue to use the young Pensworth to his advantage. The hastily called press conference outside police headquarters was just the start. He had the ball rolling. The world had just begun to understand how determined he was to save the planet…. well, that was the message he hoped to portray when he rescued poor Lucas from jail. Professor Ender sat at the small table next to the hotel suites kitchen. The morning newspaper lay beside his coffee cup all but ignored. He tried to focus on the paper, but he found his concentration lacking. To his relief, he had heard Lucas and Alice return to the hotel room in the waning morning hours, as he lay awake thinking about the night’s turn of events and how he could maximize their usage.
He had tried to sleep, but the uncertainty of the latest addition to his staff had kept his mind churning. Was the young Pensworth serious about joining his campaign or was the kid playing him for a fool? Ender’s head swam with possibilities both for and against the boy returning. Could he be certain that Lucas meant what he said about seeking revenge on his father or was the young man just rebounding from a severe bout of drugs? Ender’s fidgeted with his cup, the coffee he had poured growing cold in the cup. Lucas Pensworth 3rd had returned which was a good sign but how dedicated would he turn out to be and how bad was the kid’s drug problem. The professor found that he could care less about the drugs Lucas used as long as the problem remained under control but if he tried to control the kid’s drug usage would Lucas bolt? A loud snort erupted from the other side of the room pulling him out of his reverie. Lucas lay crumpled on the couch; his snoring filled the hotel room. Ender pushed the paper aside. At least the doubts he had last night were nullified with the Lucas and the girls return. He realized he had taken a huge risk in fronting the boy money but with his current situation what choice could he make. The groups funding his environmental crusade were balking at his lack of newsworthy demonstrations threatening to take their money elsewhere. Lying awake in bed Ender’s found his mind racing to capitalize on his newfound hope. Smiling, he stood up and crossed the room. Ender paused with his hand raised outside the door of the second bedroom. The professor mustered his nerve and rapped lightly on the door. New employee number two was about to be tested. Was Lucas' girl infatuated enough with being in his presence and the job he had offered her the evening before to stay? And she would make a reliable ally in handling the drug-addicted heir to one of the largest oil empires in the country. “Alice,” he softly spoke through the door, “Time to rise and shine.” The professor waited until he heard a faint reply then returned to his coffee. Pouring out the cold liquid, he refilled his cup with fresh coffee and settled back at the table to wait. At the sound of the bedroom door opening, he scooped up the newspaper with his free hand and tried to appear calm and in control. “Morning Professor,” Alice brightly called to him as she tussled her hair, her clothes showing the wear from the previous day. Professor Ender smiled back at her. “Call the front desk and have them deliver a new outfit. Tell them to charge it to my room. I’m certain they can have them supplied to the room in short order.” He beamed at his newest employee. “I’m glad you decided to take me up on my offer of a job. Grab a shower and we can order breakfast. We’ve got a full day ahead of us.” Another bout of snoring and loud breathing rose from the couch. Alice changed directions, scooped the hotel sheets off the floor and carefully covered the sleeping Lucas. “Shouldn’t we wake him up?” Alice asked. Ender hadn’t had a chance to ask Alice how she came to be involved with the Pensworth boy but from what the professor had observed the girl seemed to be able to control the young man. To control Lucas, Ender knew he had to stay on the young ladies good side. “We will shortly. For now, he may as well rest.” Alice’s clothes arrived while she was still in the shower. Ender set the clothes at the bottom of the door and paced the room. He had originally planned to spend most of this day at the rally at city hall. As he wandered the room, the glimmer of an idea sprouted. Pensworth Oil and Gas had their head office only a handful of blocks from city hall. Ender tossed around the idea of marching the gathered protesters in the park on a hike for an impromptu demonstration in front of the large offices of Lucas’ dad, a showdown of sorts between father and son. There he would find out exactly how much Lucas resented his father. And if there just happened to be a few news cameras around to record the meeting, oh well. A smile cut through the worry on the professor’s face. The idea might just have merit, especially if he added a little fodder to the mixture. Ender spun on his heels then quickly stepped over to the hotel phone. A couple of anonymous calls to the local news media notifying them of a possible protest at Pensworth Oil and Gas should set the ball rolling. Professor Ender stepped out of the limo then, in turn, helped Alice onto the street. He stared up at the steps of city hall waiting while Lucas gathered himself and shuffled out the door. At the hotel room, Ender had politely stopped Alice from waking up the sleeping guest of honor until it was almost time to depart. She had tried to help Lucas clean up but with the slept in, stained clothing Lucas wore he had the appearance of a vagrant. Precisely what the professor was planning. Ender looked all about at the demonstrators who had made the park their night's lodging. A considerable enough number remained, and no doubt more would be showing up again soon. The rally was scheduled to start by nine, only a brief half hour from now. Climbing to the top of the steps the professor stopped and talked to volunteers who had arrived early and were busy setting up the microphones and stage area. People were slowly clambering across the road toward the steps now. In all visible directions, Ender watched as the crowd started to thicken. The professor swelled at the sight and knowledge that his reputation was still a drawing card for these events. Walking behind the volunteers setting up the equipment Anthony Ender noticed that a couple of guest activists had already arrived for the day’s demonstration. Ender chatted briefly with them as he waited as the crowds swelled while the clock ticked closer to nine. All through the preparations he kept a keen eye on Alice and Lucas. One of his staff tapped him on the shoulder warning him that the proceedings were about to begin. He signaled Alice to bring Lucas and stand beside him on the stage. Ender stepped up to the microphone and tapped it to summon the crowd’s attention. “Today,” he began, “today we gather on these public steps to call on the energy giants of the world to join us in protecting our fragile environment. Join us in saving the earth instead of raping the resources for greed and power.” The crowd cheered. The professor noticed that the people standing nearest the steps were looking past him at Alice and Lucas as they stood behind him. “Today is a special day. A day we fight back against the pollutants and deniers hidden in plain sight. The same people who have ignored our attempts to save the earth’s climate not only for ourselves but also for the generations who will come after us.” Professor Ender piled his phony emotions on the crowd as thick as possible. “Joining me on stage today are a couple of notable environmental heroes. Both have published numerous papers depicting the decline of the earth’s climate. Originally that was all that I had planned for today…” Ender paused and gazed over the crowd, “but the time has come for us to be more militant in our fight. Our words have fallen on deaf ears, and the destroyers of our planet sit in their skyscrapers counting their money and ignoring us.” The professor stopped and slowly uncapped a plastic bottle of water letting the cool liquid wash down his throat. Enders took his time. If his little charade was going to be effective, then he had to reach deep into his soul for every ounce of acting prowess in his body. “After the speeches, I ask for all of you to follow me. We will make a short walk from the steps and take our protest straight to the heart of the greedy climate-killing giant’s lairs.” He stood to cheers before announcing the first speaker. Standing off to the side he watched and listened as the two guest speakers rambled on with the same tired rhetoric. The crowd slowly grew restless, their enthusiasm waning. Fearing the loss his momentum the professor cut into the second guest’s speech. “Enough talk,” he screamed at the crowd. Turning to the volunteers, he motioned for the microphone audio equipment to be wrapped up. Then before anyone could move, he signaled for Alice and Lucas to join him as he strode down the concrete steps into the protesters. With Alice and Lucas at his side, he waved, beckoning the crowd to follow and started walking away from the front of city hall. With a brain full of determination, Professor Ender crossed into a busy street. Car brakes squealed, and horns honked all around him. The gathering from the steps of the hall poured across the sidewalk, and soon the busy road became deadlocked with automobiles and pedestrians. Ender gulped a stomach full of courage. To march on public streets, he was well aware that protests had to have permits and police to block traffic. Today he ignored the rules. His star as an environmentalist was fading fast and he desperately needed a jolt to make himself and his cause noteworthy again. As he paraded amongst the stopped cars and angry drivers, he shouted and ranted. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a reporter and cameraman scurrying close behind filming his fiasco. He smiled inwardly. The large gathering of people from the park ran amok among the parked cars. Horns honked, and drivers rolled down their windows and swore at the walking stampede that had closed the street. The professor held his head high and avoided the glaring eyes of the disrupted drivers while he continued marching down the center of the four-lane thoroughfare. Behind him, he heard arguments break out between drivers and protestors. Several times he slowed long enough to peer back over his shoulder only to find protesters smashing their signs against the automobiles stopped by the number of pedestrians walking in the street. Somewhere along the way, the arguments between protesters and motorists grew fiercer. Protestors collided with annoyed drivers as fights erupted. Before long the demonstrators were grabbing anything they found loose along their travels and tossed the objects at the idling cars. Just ahead of the police sirens, Professor Ender stopped outside the main doors to Pensworth Oil and Gas. There he instructed the volunteers with the audio equipment to set up. Ender carefully watched the expression on Lucas’ face as the troupe stopped at doors to the massive tower. Lucas’s face turned a scarlet hue. A good sign or bad Professor Ender couldn’t tell. He grabbed the microphone and launched into another inspired speech. “Here we are ladies and gentlemen, face to face with capitalist greed and environmental corruption. The man who owns this tower is one of the richest oil barons and dare I say an enemy of the earth. Profits before people might as well be his motto. How much of our planet has had to be destroyed to fill the insatiable lust for power and money shown by companies of this ilk.” The professor paused for effect and to give himself a second to compose the next words out of his mouth. His eyes roamed the streaming tide of protesters still weaving around the stalled traffic to join him. To his delight, he spotted several reporters and news cameras. Time to execute his plan involving the young Pensworth. “Lucas Pensworth 2nd, the CEO of Pensworth Oil and Gas, a man so eager to add to his bulging bank account that the destruction of our planet is of little consequence.” Ender clutched his microphone in one hand as he used his free hand to drag Lucas 3rd into the spotlight. “I would like to introduce you to Lucas Pensworth 3rd.” Lucas’ clothes were wrinkled and stained. The boy’s eyes a dark red from the late night of drugs and lack of sleep. Professor Ender droned on working the fired up crowd. “All the money in the world and Lucas’ father hasn’t got the decency to do what comes naturally to most parents. Take care of your family first. No, the man running this out of control energy behemoth is too busy lining his pockets and the pockets of his shareholders. The environment and his son be damned.” The crowd cheered and waved signs. Ender placed the microphone in front of Lucas’ mouth. “Is there something you’d like to add Lucas?” the professor asked. Lucas’ face reddened. Enders watched nervously. Did he make a mistake and rush into this. Would the boy forget the anger he displayed toward his father? The crowd cheered Lucas’ name. Lucas stared through bloodshot eyes at the throng of people looking back then he turned and looked at the front doors of the building. Professor Ender held his breath. His whole career hung in the balance of Lucas’ decision. Lucas mumbled a string of incoherent words. Scared of what the boy might do the professor gulped and asked Lucas to repeat his words. Lucas thought back to the meeting at the chancellor’s office where his father had helped humiliated him instead of taking his side. The stinging words his father had spoken echoed off the walls of his brain. He locked eyes with Ender then reached a hand for the microphone. “I said you are right Professor Enders,” he spoke quietly. “The man running this company doesn’t care about anyone only his damn money.” Lucas’ face grew an angry shade of purple, his voice increased in volume. “Where do these people get off shoving us to the curb?” His addled brain was twisting the events of his father’s words and his removal from the university as he now saw himself as the innocent victim not the cause of the problem. Lucas yelled into the microphone before handing it back to the professor. “ITS TIME WE FOUGHT BACK,” he said while grabbing a metal speaker stand and heading for the front doors of the office tower. Professor Ender welcomed his two guests into the massive hotel suite. Swinging his arm he gestured toward the opulent setting. “Make yourselves at home,” he announced and led the way to a bar in the back corner. “Drinks?”
Serving his new associates the professor stood in front of them. “A salute to fate for our opportune meeting and to a relationship that will bode well for our mutual beliefs in saving the earth from the greedy and the wasteful.” Ender’s eyes twinkled over the lip of his glass as he studiously watched the facial expressions of the young Pensworth. His little introductory speech had worked numerous times before as he inducted new sheep into his climate cult, although not many with as rich a father as this one. “Lucas. Why don’t you go and clean yourself up. I will call downstairs and have them send up new clothes for you,” Ender oozed the charm. “Just set those old clothes you are wearing aside, I’ll have them taken care of.” The professor pointed the way to the large main bathroom. Anthony Enders watched Lucas 3rd weave across the floor toward the bathroom. His eyes switched quickly stopping to rest on his other guest. The edges of his lips curled “Young Pensworth’s girl would probably be quite fetching if she cleaned up a bit,” he selflessly thought to himself before he pivoted and crossed the room for a couch parked in front of the fireplace. Lucas stepped into the large tiled bathroom. His body was starting to itch uncontrollably like his skin was infested. He absently scratched his arm all to aware of his condition. Even with his laggard brain he knew the warning signs of his body crashing as the last residues of drugs left his body. Lucas closed the door and from behind bloodshot eyeballs he caught a glimpse in the bathroom mirror as he passed. An unrecognizable face stared back at him. Pausing briefly he leaned on the countertop and studied his reflection. His face twisted and his eyes a bleeding red. The hair on his head that he so carefully kept groomed sticking in all directions. The clothes draped over his body wrinkled and stained. Disgusted at the man looking back from the other side he turned away, his eyes roaming the inside of the room. His attention stopped at the medicine cabinet to the side of the double sinks. With a lurch he tore open the door and rifled through the small collection of bottles on the middle shelf. Grabbing one that looked promising he drew it closer and after a cursory look threw it onto the counter. Then with a faster tempo brought on by urgency he pawed and discarded the other containers. “The strongest stuff in here is this shit,” he groaned then slammed the cabinet door closed. Any thoughts of a shower and clean clothes now a mute point. Lucas scratched harder at one arm then the other, the crawling under his skin getting worse. Lucas ripped open the bathroom door and stormed back into the spacious front room of the suite. “No. I’m not really that kind of a scientist. You could say I am self taught on the science of climate warming,” the professor cheerily expounded to the young lady who sat perched close to him on the couch. She gazed at him with a look of awe. He chose his words carefully, “I taught art history before the calling came upon me.” The professor laughed, “Besides, there are some groups who are deeply concerned with the decline of the environment. People with very deep pockets who help fund my planet saving crusade.” He said with earnest then winked at Alice while using his arm to proudly show off the interior of the grand suite. “I need some money!” Lucas barked startling the two. In Lucas’ mind he was certain that the professor had hired him, why else bring him here. And if he was working for this guy then he should be paid. Fair is fair he thought as he stood staring down at the surprised faces glancing up from the couch? “Pardon me,” the professor said. “Pensworth Oil and Gas must be worth billions. I am sure that the son of the company CEO must have money enough of his own?” Professor Ender’s heart raced. He eyed the disheveled man standing across the room. Although he had mildly entertained this thought he had banked on convincing the young Pensworth to pull out his wallet and support his cause. Faced with the possibility of Lucas being broke frightened the professor. The crowd that had been funding his environmental journey was about to cut off the flow of funds. Professor Ender’s bills had grown to staggering amounts and the groups were now balking at the lack of media attention his campaigns produced lately. His golden goose was running out of eggs. He took a slow look around the hotel suite. His days of plush hotel rooms, limos and first class travel were quickly coming to an end unless he found new resources or convinced his backers that he was still worth their time and money. Professor Enders’ mind raced as he realized the kid might well be broke. He stalled. He could still use the kid if he planned things right. Turning back to face Lucas he pulled a smile back on his face to hide his disappointment. “What happened to your money, son?” he asked with faked concern. The question caught Lucas off guard. He didn’t want to confess to being robbed in the park especially since he was in a drug-induced state. Thinking quickly he pieced together a lie to gain the professor’s sympathy, “My father,” Lucas mumbled quietly, “Took my money away.” Then remembering his stolen car. “And my car.” Why not blame the bastard for everything Lucas justified, “My old man doesn’t care about me…” Lucas gained momentum, the lie starting to form easily, “yesterday…my…old man…he conspired with the Chancellor at the university to have me expelled and then he kicked me to the curb.” Lowering his eyes to the carpet, Lucas Pensworth 3rd went silent. Professor Enders contemplated the young Pensworth’s words. Enders considered himself well informed and from what he recalled hearing about Lucas Pensworth, he highly doubted that the man standing before him was entirely lacking in blame for his current situation. Still, he hid his own views and considered the gains to be made by having the young Pensworth on his team. The kid might be broke but the family profile might possibly be of use. “How much money do you need?” Professor Enders asked. Lucas hummed and hawed. A fire was crawling through his body as the drugs wore off preventing him from having any sort of coherent thoughts. Lucas became agitated. His lack of money for drugs brought back the burning anger toward his father. The twisted lies combined with shakes brought on by withdrawal consumed his body told him to hurry while his brain screamed for another fix. “Five hundred should do,” Lucas looked the professor in the eye. Anthony Enders eyes widened then he reigned in his surprise. “That’s a lot of money, son,” he replied calmly. “May I inquire what that’s for?” Lucas glared back, “You’re just like my father.” Lucas continued staring at the professor, his breathing deepened. The need for his next fix pounding on his brain, his stomach lurching. “Medicine,” he finally answered, “I’m sick. I need some medicine.” Enders carefully considered his options. If he gave Lucas the money would he see the young Pensworth again and if he didn’t then the boy would surely leave. Turning the problem over in his mind it dawned on him that the solution was sitting a cushion over from where he sat. “If I loan you the money you promise you will return?” Professor Enders brow furrowed as he gazed intently at Lucas. An idea popped into the professor’s head, “You said you wanted to join our cause. Consider the money an advance on your wages.” His eyes left Lucas and focused on the girl sitting a cushion over. He continued, “Alice, would you mind accompanying Lucas. Make certain he returns. I will be needing his services tomorrow.” Alice’s eyes grew wide as the attention focused on her. “No. No I can’t,” she replied, “I had better be going.” She shifted to leave. A façade of concern appeared on Enders’ face as he leaned forward and patted Alice’s knee. “I can see that you take the destruction of our climate very deeply. Think of the good you can do for this planet. Alice. I would like to offer you a job also? Mr. Pensworth 3rd appears in desperate need of a friend at this moment, someone to help him through this troubling time.” Enders watched her nod her head in approval. “I will call my driver. Tell him where you need to go Lucas.” Anthony Enders watched as the hotel door closed behind his two new employees. He realized that without a doubt Lucas Pensworth 3rd would be a train wreck by morning. Enders smiled. He would drag the boy with him back to the steps of city hall early the next day and prove to the world that the same kind of capitalist monsters running the huge energy companies not only cared little about the environment but they put profits before people, even their own children. With a few well-placed calls to the media and the Pensworth kids famous last name he might be able to return some fire to his dying climate crusade and change the minds of his fleeing financial backers. ***** In the back seat of the limo Lucas repeated the number to his old room. “Ask for Donkey,” he explained. “Tell him where the car is and have him come to meet me,” he issued his final instructions as Alice closed the door and walked across the dew-licked grass toward the dorm building. Fifteen minutes later Alice retraced her steps, Lucas’ roommate lagging behind her. Alice stood to the side while Donkey timidly poked his head into the car. Seeing his friend he hopped onto the seat.“ Score dude. Where’d you get the wheels? Lucas explained as much as he remembered from the last day before showing Donkey the wad of cash. “What will this buy me?” |
Richard CozicarA new Canadian Author with too many ideas in his head. Surprising even himself with where his stories go. Archives
January 2018
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