Off The Grid

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Off The Grid Page 21

by Dan Kolbet


  “Why wouldn’t that have happened to you?”

  “I can’t prove it, but I suspect that the injection in me stayed in my spine because it was functioning fully. It gravitated toward a healthy, working process. Since her nerve endings were dead, it couldn’t find an attraction and moved on to the blood stream.

  “The school insisted on an autopsy, but I refused, which raised some eyebrows with the administration. They ordered an autopsy anyway and discovered a foreign, unidentifiable substance in her body. I never admitted publically what I did, but they knew something was amiss. Our laws here are very clear. Experimenting on another human, without approval and protocols is unlawful.”

  “And they took away your medical license.”

  Estevan nodded and continued to stare into the fire.

  “I knew everyone on the medical review board,” he said “They knew I was trying to help Ann, even in a misguided way. Taking away my license wasn’t the worst thing they could have done. They could have turned me in to the authorities where I would have been charged in her death. They didn’t cover up what I did, they just didn’t push it as hard as they could have.”

  “Wouldn’t the school also have some culpability in the matter since you used its resources?” Luke asked. “There had to be a reason they didn’t push it any further.”

  “It’s certainly possible,” Estevan said, finally looking away from the fire.

  “When did Professor Kirkhorn find out about Ann?”

  “He was back on the island in 1984, the year after she was hurt. Officially he was researching Nevis Peak for his employer, but he was looking into the silver sand as well. He couldn’t help himself. The silver sand was too interesting to him. He didn’t know anyone else on the island, so we became friends, although I never told him about my ideas for medical uses for the material. I told him what I did after she died. He said that I was reckless for injecting her. We didn’t speak again for more than 25 years, until Loretta got hurt.”

  “He wanted to know what you did with Ann, so he could try it on Loretta. But he knew that it failed?”

  “Yes, he never got the chance to test it on her and I don’t know that he would have unless he was sure. He emailed me updates on his progress and I gave him what advice I could. He only worked on it for a few years before he died.”

  “Do you still have those e-mails?”

  “Yes, I can send them to you,” Estevan said.

  “Thank you. Those e-mails might be a game changer. When I get the samples back to Portland I’m certain we can isolate and separate the unique minerals in the rocks,” Luke said. “The number of people that this technology could help is huge, and not just in the U.S. This mineral – whatever it is used for might be the missing link. It could have global repercussions.”

  “You really think our rocks are that important?”

  “We won’t know until we try.”

  They both turned when the headlights of the rental car shown from the driveway. Kathryn honked the horn.

  “Can you promise me something?” Estevan asked. “Don’t forget about Ann and Loretta when you get back to the States. I still think the silver sand, in one way or another, can have a medicinal use.”

  Luke thought of the mask on Tilly’s face as she breathed in her life-sustaining medication through the foot-powered machine operated by her mom. How she didn’t have the breath to blow out her birthday candles.

  “There’s a little girl back in California who won’t let me forget.”

  Chapter 47

  Portland, Oregon

  MassEnergy’s VP of Development, James Beckman pulled out of the parking garage of Portland’s largest financial institution. He’d just ended a meeting with a pair of potential investors, set up by his personal broker. It couldn’t have gone better. His week was looking up.

  Earlier that morning Kathryn Tate had delivered even better news concerning what she was bringing back to Portland. He didn’t hesitate to arrange a private plane out of Nevis and back to Portland. If he could have flown there himself that instant, he would have.

  His impressions of Kathryn continued to be correct. She got the job done at all costs. She was a first class bitch, but one that he wanted on his side. He couldn’t wait to be rid of her – she was only supposed to be a temporary employee anyway. She was gaining the attention of company management. Not a good sign for him. Regardless, he hoped that what she claimed about these magical rocks was true. The science of wireless electricity wasn’t his strong suit and the lab guys would have to be the ones to prove it worked. And do it fast.

  The clock was ticking on MassEnergy. It had to introduce a product to market in the next two quarters or be forced to declare bankruptcy. It would be an absolute embarrassment - a complete failure.

  The engineering candidate class and Kathryn’s ridiculous “pods,” all had one goal. The all-out push against StuTech was MassEnergy’s last-ditch effort to stave off the trash heap. They had a plan, but it was missing a few key items – like a product that worked.

  While Beckman didn’t have a significant stake in the company, his stake did comprise the entirety of his net worth, around $6 million. He should have diversified, sure, but he didn’t. His fortunes would mirror those of MassEnergy.

  Simple bankruptcy and the loss of a personal fortune wasn’t the only thing at risk. Time was running out on another front as well. Legislators were currently debating a bill in the Senate that would give StuTech exclusive rights to the radio spectrum it used to transmit its signals. It was called the Wireless Electricity Spectrum Act, or WES Act. The House had already passed it. If MassEnergy wasn’t allowed to use the same spectrum, they wouldn’t be able to transmit wireless electric signals at all.

  StuTech had lobbied hard for the WES Act, which was sponsored by a senior Congresswoman from Washington state, who was a former StuTech executive. She argued that StuTech was offering the country a perfect mix of efficiency and cost-effectiveness. If they were forced to fend off competitors in their market, they would be distracted from that pursuit. It was a ludicrous idea and everyone knew it. StuTech had bought the votes for such a monopolistic bill out of its own sense of self-preservation. It certainly violated anti-trust laws and wouldn’t likely hold up to a court challenge, but it didn’t matter. MassEnergy wouldn’t have the funding to fight it if it couldn’t sell a product that worked.

  A few pro-business senators were stalling a vote on the bill, knowing its massive ramifications. The president had already promised to sign the WES Act into law and was putting pressure on the Senate holdouts, who couldn’t delay the bill indefinitely.

  Beckman figured if they could get a product on the market, even just a test case, before Congress adjourned for summer recess, the bill couldn’t get passed. But if they missed the window, it would be over for good.

  This was Beckman’s reality. He was all-in or it was all over. It had to work and he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

  Chapter 48

  The executive airport terminal at Portland International smelled like leather and popcorn, a high-class movie theater. A co-pilot for the chartered jet had carried Luke and Kathryn’s bags from the luggage hold into the terminal on a soggy red carpet. Luke and Kathryn slept most of the flight back and thus did little talking. Luke wasn’t interested in conversation anyway.

  He was embarrassed about their kiss the night she told him about Kirkhorn. He was still mourning his break-up with Rachel and should have known better than to let it go that far. He was relieved that he had followed his head that night, not his sexual urges.

  It didn’t take him the entire flight back to Portland to realize that she was just playing him. That was her plan all along. The dollar signs that he now saw spinning in her eyes had clearly impacted her in ways he didn’t expect. Why was this a surprise? What did he really even know about her? She was his boss and this was a job - nothing else to her.

  The rock samples were his insurance. He hadn’t let t
he backpack out of his sight since they left Estevan’s home the previous morning. He used it as a hard pillow on the flight and now carried it slung over his shoulder. It wasn’t going anywhere.

  StuTech wasn’t going to take him back so his chance of ever getting into Advanced Analytics was gone. Warren Evans didn’t want him at his company or around his daughter. But he had a choice. His first option was to present the samples to Evans and cut his ties with MassEnergy all together. He’d beg for mercy from the old man and hope Evans would keep the Elliot Cosgrove affair a secret. But that would require trusting Evans and that was a long shot.

  His second option could be lengthy. Give the samples to MassEnergy and see what it could do with them. Slowly chip away at StuTech and wait it out. But he was setting himself up for a fall. If Evans learned how instrumental Luke was in getting the samples for MassEnergy – and they proved valuable – Evans would be furious and not hesitate to seek retribution.

  His options weren’t appealing and despite the valuable material he held in the backpack, he still wasn’t in control.

  Rain streaked the windows of the airport’s terminal lobby. It was a typical Portland day – raining and overcast. They both huddled inside the entryway, behind the double doors leading out to the parking lot. There was supposed to be a car service waiting for them. Beckman ordered them to head straight to the office, no matter when they arrived, so the samples could be analyzed immediately. It was just after 5 p.m.

  After about ten minutes of waiting, Luke grew impatient and found the one terminal agent working the entire private lobby.

  “We landed about 15 minutes ago and I believe we were supposed to have a car waiting for us. Is there another spot we should be waiting for it to arrive?”

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t at the counter when your flight landed,” the middle-aged female agent said. “You must be Luke Kincaid. Are you traveling with, let me see here, Ms. Tate as well?”

  “Yes.”

  “Again, my apologies, I have your keys right here,” she set two sets of rental car keys on the counter. “There was a mix up of some sort with the car service. I’ve been instructed to provide you each a rental car instead.”

  Luke thought it would be nice to stop off at home first and get a shower and change of clothes. Maybe the time away from Kathryn could help him decide his next move, he was certainly ready to part ways with her.

  He thanked the agent and scooped up the keys.

  “Looks like we’re flying solo the rest of our adventure,” Luke told Kathryn. “Car service issue. They got us each a car to get to the office.”

  “Two cars?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “Apparently. I’m going to stop at home really quick and change my clothes.”

  “No rush, take your time. It’ll probably be a long night at the office.”

  Chapter 49

  A man behind the wheel of a dark blue SUV watched as his targets talked behind the glass doors of the terminal lobby. The man left momentarily, but they finally exited the building after he returned. Instead of climbing in a waiting luxury town car as planned, they each got into sedans parked by the door. Time to adjust.

  The woman he only knew as Ms. Tate carefully placed her single bag in the trunk, adjusted her mirrors and exited the lot. Mr. Kincaid did the same, but placed a backpack on the passenger seat. He must want to keep it near. With that simple decision, Mr. Kincaid just sealed his fate.

  The freeway from the airport was always congested, despite the abundance of commuter trains in and around Portland. The rush hour traffic helped the blue SUV blend in. The man stayed two car lengths back in the bumper-to-bumper jumble of cars. The route from the airport to MassEnergy was fairly obvious, with only one main artery as a reasonable route. The man played the percentages that Mr. Kincaid would follow conventional wisdom.

  The exit from the freeway led to Linwood Drive, a winding road along the Willamette River. Linwood allowed one lane of travel in both directions. On the left side of the road was a mammoth wall of reinforced concrete. On the other side was a small shoulder just a few feet from a tree-lined slope down to the bank of the river. Traffic was thinning. It was time.

  ***

  Luke couldn’t wait to get on a fresh set of clothes. He’d only packed for a two-day trip to Tucson and was now returning after seven days in the blazing dessert of Arizona and thick humidity of the Caribbean. He was ripe. His apartment was only a couple of miles past MassEnergy. He’d probably only lose about 25 minutes. It was a little price to pay for his sanity and odor.

  He turned down Linwood Drive, which would take him all the way down to his block. He was going about 45 miles per hour in the 35 mile per hour zone. The flashing red and blue lights of the blue SUV lit up behind him, quickly reminding him of the appropriate speed limit. Knowing he was about to get a speeding ticket, he flipped on his signal and took his foot off the gas and began coasting to the shoulder.

  The SUV didn’t use a siren, just the lights. It stayed within one car length and then accelerated to pass his car in the oncoming lane. Maybe the cop was responding to a call and just needed to pass. That’d be a relief. He wasn’t in the mood for a ticket. Luke continued to pull onto the shoulder toward the river as the SUV pulled even with the rental.

  Luke could hear the SUV’s engine rev as the man floored it and bolted along side Luke’s smaller rental car. The oversized front bumper was now even with the rental’s front tires. In one powerful nudge, the SUV jerked to the right and slammed directly into the driver’s side of the rental car. Luke tried to keep a grip on the wheel as the car bounced into the loose gravel on the shoulder. He overcorrected. The smaller car plunged back onto the roadway at a 45-degree angle. Without the gravel from the shoulder to help ease the skid, Luke’s tires caught abruptly and started to flip.

  He felt the immediate sensation of flying through the air and flipping upside down. Everything went black as the car rolled four more times away from the road and down the slope toward the river. The car finally stopped when it wrapped around a thick Ponderosa Pine.

  ***

  The man pulled his baseball cap low over his face and as he jogged about 30 feet from the roadway to the destroyed car. He kept the lights of the SUV flashing on the side of the road. He used a small pick to shatter the passenger side window. Mr. Kincaid’s airbag had deployed and he was slumped motionless over the steering wheel with blood running down the side of his face. His arm was at an awkward angle, clearly broken. Grabbing the backpack, the man returned to his SUV and drove off before any other cars came across the scene.

  Chapter 50

  Three Days Later

  The rhythmic beep of the machines droned as Luke lay in the hospital bed at Portland Sacred Heart Hospital. The EMTs had arrived on scene quickly after a driver saw the accident and called 911. He was treated for a neck injury and placed on a backboard. His left arm was broken and he had suffered head trauma. The doctors were concerned about swelling in his brain and believed it would be aggravated if he were awake. He’d been given medication to keep him sedated. The doctors felt two days of monitoring his breathing and brain activity were enough. They slowly decreased the strength of the drugs and waited for him to wake up. That was yesterday.

  Rachel sat alone in the corner of the room, just as she had for the last two days. She was still listed as Luke’s emergency contact and got a voicemail from a nurse on the day of the accident. Her plane from Europe had just landed in Seattle and they were taxiing to the terminal. She never left the airport and took the first flight down to Portland.

  She didn’t even have time to question whether she should go see him. He needed her and that was enough. She wondered who else would be in the room with him. Would that woman, Kathryn, from the photo be there? But no one else came.

  The staff didn’t know much about the accident other than the condition of the car. It had rolled several times and he was lucky to be alive. His seatbelt and airbag had done their jobs. Rachel did
n’t have any authority to direct his medical care, but the doctors had kept her updated on his condition as if she did.

  They wouldn’t know the extent of his injuries until he woke up. If he woke up.

  Other than the swelling around a dozen stitches on his face, and the broken arm, Luke looked remarkably well. She spend the hours in his room going over that she would say to him if she got the chance. Her mind spun out of control as she waited for him to come to. She hadn’t seen him in more than a year. Seeing him again brought back all the feelings she had for him - the good ones and the bad ones. He looked so helpless lying in the bed. She missed him dearly and she’d promised herself that she would forgive him for whatever he had done with that Kathryn woman if he would just wake up and be with her again. They had to be together now. She wouldn’t let him go back to this fictitious world of corporate espionage. He didn’t need to do it. Things were different now. It had to be different.

  ***

  The bright lights of the room were a rude awakening back into the real world. Then the pain in Luke’s arm and back set in. He blinked open his eyes and then closed them just as quick. Keep the light out. It was so bright. He hurt everywhere. Why? Then he remembered. He had been in a car accident. No, it wasn’t an accident. The lights were so bright. He lifted his arm over his eyes to block out the light and was smacked in the face with what had to be a brick. There was a cast on his arm. It was broken? It smelled like . . . vanilla.

  There was someone else in the room. A flicker, then suddenly it got dark. He put his arm back down to his side. The plastic rings on the hospital room’s curtains scraped against the rail and the last bits of light disappeared. He opened his eyes. As they adjusted to the light, the smell of more vanilla brought him awake. He turned his head to the left and saw who had shut the curtains. It smelled like her. She always wore the same perfume. He knew it well. Tears welled up in his eyes as she touched his hand.

 

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