The Olympus Device: Book Three

by Joe Nobody

  The Texan initially frowned, but then the meaning of his brother’s words sank in. “And you trust them, Mitch?”

  Grace answered, “No, we don’t trust them at all. That’s why we wanted to talk with you in person, to get your input and feelings on the matter. If you’re holding out okay, and in a relatively safe place, then we can take our time and negotiate from a stronger position. If not, then we need to bring you in as soon as possible.”

  Before Dusty could say a single word, Grace knew the answer from his expression. “This isn’t any fun,” came the sad response. “But I can hold out if you two think it’s best.”

  It’s killing him, she realized instantly. The stress of living on the run has to be a living hell.

  Mitch saw it, too. “At some point in time we will have to trust them,” the concerned sibling stated. “We’re not going to get that many more concessions by holding out a few weeks longer.”

  Dusty’s next words convinced both of his loved ones they were reading him correctly. “A few weeks? I don’t know about a few weeks. Days maybe, but the pressure is starting to wear me down. I’ve been having some pretty rash thoughts lately. I’m getting sick of being on the dodge, and that’s made all the worse by the injustice of it all. I need to leave this decision up to both of you – my thinking hasn’t been real clear as of late. It’s taken a lot of willpower not to tote my little invention to Washington and give them an up-close and personal demonstration of its capabilities.”

  “Dusty,” Grace whispered, “please don’t do that. You’re not that kind of man, and we both know it. If you go to the capital, a lot of people will die, and you’ll prove all of these lies they’ve been spreading about you are actually true. Besides, you might be hurt… or worse.”

  “A lot of people have already died,” the Texan replied, his low tone a clear indicator of his dark mood. “I can’t help but think about setting things straight… settling the matter once and for all.”

  “Okay, brother,” Mitch said, not liking where his sibling was going. “Give us a little bit, and we’ll be in touch the usual way. Stay low and stay cool, and check your traps often.”

  “Okay… hurry… please.”

  Grace’s breathing stopped for a moment when the screen went dark, her heart not ready to end the conversation. Reality soon overrode her emotions, however, a protective tigress roaring to the surface. “This is preposterous,” she snapped at Mitch. “They’re killing him slowly. This is nothing but torture.”

  “I agree. We have to end this soon. I know my brother, and he’s feeling cornered. He’ll come out fighting like a wildcat if he gets pinned down, and the results of that can’t be good. The rail gun is too powerful to be held in unstable, passionate hands – even Dusty’s.”

  Grace pulled her cell phone from her purse, looking into Mitch’s eyes as if asking his opinion. The professor nodded.

  She pulled up the number from her contacts, double-checking the entry for “WHCOS,” or White House chief of staff.

  “Mr. Rhodes’ office,” answered a female voice.

  “This is Grace Kennedy, calling in regards to the Durham Weathers matter.”

  “Hold on one moment, please. He’s currently in a meeting, but he instructed me to let him know immediately if you called.”

  In reality, it was far more than a moment before the president’s chief of staff came on the line. “Miss Kennedy, thank you for calling,” he said smoothly.

  “Mr. Rhodes, we’ve been in contact with my client and are prepared to set up a meeting as per the previously discussed terms. There is, however, one additional item we must insist upon. We want the president to declare publicly that the pursuit of Mr. Weathers is to cease and desist immediately. Are we in agreement?”

  A slight chuckle sounded across the connection. It gave Grace a chill, the powerful man on the other end apparently thinking Dusty was close to being cornered, or growing weaker. Neither synopsis was positive for their bargaining position. “I’m not authorized to agree to that request, Miss Kennedy,” he finally responded. “I’ll have to take that up with the president, but my read of the man is that he’s not inclined to make a public spectacle of this affair.”

  “I’ll wait for your call back then, Mr. Rhodes. Until then, I must inform you that my client is becoming impatient and has even expressed thoughts of visiting Washington to demonstrate his device. I’m sure you’ll agree with me in that such an event would be tragic for all involved.”

  Grace knew her statement had the desired effect from the sound of Mr. Rhodes’s nervous swallow. He then cleared his throat before responding, “I’ll be seeing the president in a few minutes. I’ll let you know immediately of his decision.”

  “Thank you, sir. But I wouldn’t wait too long. My client is feeling as if he has little to lose and a lot to be gained by visiting the nation’s capital. If there is a delay, I’m not certain even I will be able to reverse his determination to achieve justice… by any means,” Grace warned.

  “I understand,” came the clearly worried response. “I’ll be in touch soon,” Rhodes promised as the call was disconnected.

  Turning to Mitch, she said, “So, Mr. Professor, how do we hold a meeting and yet protect your brother?”

  “I don’t think we need to worry about that,” replied the younger Weathers. “They wouldn’t dare try to arrest Dusty on the spot after the president has given his word publicly. My biggest concern is that they attempt to follow my brother after the event and Shanghai him outside the public eye.”

  “And?”

  “There’s no sure way to prevent that. We’ll take as many precautions as we can, but they have satellites, military aircraft, and all sorts of assets we probably don’t even know exist. If they want to play dirty, there’s very little we can do to stop them.”

  When the president took the podium in the White House’s pressroom, it drew as much media fanfare and public attention as any natural disaster, victory in war, or attack on the homeland. America paused her daily routine to watch closely, intent on learning how the top elected official was going to address what had become a national topic of contention.

  “My fellow Americans and citizens of the planet earth,” the Commander in Chief began. “As most of you know, a new technology has been discovered by one of our countrymen… a development that holds the promise of extraordinary benefit, as well as harboring the potential to destroy our world. When we in Washington first learned of Mr. Durham Weathers and his device, facts were in short supply, the situation confused and uncertain. The only absolute known at the time was the capability of Mr. Weather’s invention to cause extraordinary levels of destruction.”

  The president paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing. “I ordered our brave law enforcement and military forces to apprehend both Mr. Weathers and what we considered to be a weapon of mass destruction. My cabinet consulted with Congressional leaders as well as judicial experts and concluded this was the best course of action to protect our citizens.”

  The head of the free world tilted his head as if experiencing a moment of introspection before continuing his speech. “We now know more facts about both the invention and inventor. We have reason to believe that Mr. Weathers never had any intention of harming anyone. In fact, quite the opposite may be true, as his representatives have made it clear that his strongest desire is to see that his discovery isn’t weaponized. If accurate, this is indeed a noble cause.”

  “Given this new information, I am hereby ordering all law enforcement agencies and offices to cease the nationwide manhunt currently underway. I have instructed the members of the Blue Ribbon Panel to meet in person with Mr. Weathers in hope of resolving all outstanding questions and issues. It is the stated purpose of this administration to leverage Mr. Weathers’ discovery for the benefit of all and to do so in a safe, controlled, methodical process. I’ll now answer a few questions.”

  The room erupted with hands and voices, the president point
ing to a New York Times reporter in the front row. “Mr. President, when and where will these meetings take place?”

  “For now, at the request of various security advisors, we’re keeping that information out of the public domain. I can tell you that our discussions will begin soon and that I absolutely anticipate a resolution in short order.”

  Another reporter was acknowledged. “Mr. President, in addition to the panel, who will be meeting with Mr. Weathers?”

  “Again, for security purposes, it wouldn’t be prudent to divulge any specific personnel. I can say that the scientific and military communities will be well represented,” the chief executive responded.

  “But sir, since this event may impact the lives of every single person on the planet, don’t the people have a right to know the entire story?”

  Nodding with a smile, the president seemed to agree. “I was getting to that, Larry,” he chuckled. “In addition to government and academic representatives, the president will invite two randomly selected members of the press to attend the proceedings. Once we pull their names out of the hat, these reporters must adhere to a non-disclosure agreement until such time as any potential security issues have passed. We want to be transparent with this process, yet I’m sure everyone can understand the need to proceed with caution.”

  Over a thousand miles to the west, Grace looked away from the television and grinned at Mitch. “With the press in attendance and those public statements, I feel a little bit better about Dusty walking away from this powwow a free man. It would be extremely difficult for the authorities to cause trouble now.”

  Mitch wasn’t quite as sure. “Not impossible by any sense, but yes, difficult for sure. Still, I think we need to keep our eyes and ears open.”

  “Always,” she whispered, remembering her time in jail. “Dusty’s little garage invention seems to turn the hearts and minds of men. I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t have let him throw it into Galveston Bay when he had the chance.”

  “They would have dredged it up,” Mitch replied with a dismissive hand. “Like you said, the hearts and minds of men.”

  Chapter 4

  Grace chanced one last glance into the rearview mirror, wanting to look her best for Dusty. It wasn’t vanity that motivated her desire, she told herself, brushing back a stray tress. No, it was her concern for his well-being. He’d appeared tired and worn down on the computer call, and she hoped a caring, friendly face would help bolster his spirits. She wanted to send a message, give him something to look forward to on the other side of what was sure to be a long and arduous process.

  She caught Mitch staring at her, the look on the professor’s face one of curiosity. “I think you truly love my brother,” he ventured. “And I’m glad.”

  Slightly embarrassed, she shrugged off his remark. “Love isn’t going to see us through all this,” she replied with a steady voice. “I want him to know bright, professional people are on his side. I want to instill confidence, and yes… admiration. He needs to know we care as much as he does. More than anything, Durham needs hope right now.”

  Mitch didn’t buy the diversion, “Whatever. There’s a woman standing in front of me who is in love with my brother and wants to look her best. I see nothing wrong with that.”

  For a brief moment, a rebuttal formed in her throat, but then she let it go. Mitch would never make it as a lawyer, she observed. He wears his emotions like an uncomfortable suit.

  They exited the rental car, stepping briskly toward the truck stop Dusty had indicated in his message. No sooner had they entered the front doors than Grace realized she was completely overdressed for the establishment. The scattering of rough-looking men inside reaffirmed her observation.

  Ignoring the multitude of grunts, barely concealed gawking, and one outright wolf whistle, the attorney plowed past the rows of snack food, heading for the section that housed the restaurant.

  When she spotted Dusty sitting in a nearby booth, she paused. So abruptly in fact, that Mitch couldn’t stop in time and bumped into her from behind. “Sorry,” he mumbled. But she didn’t hear the apology.

  Grace’s legs were working again, any anxiety regarding her fading dignity long past. The last few steps into Dusty’s now-waiting arms were practically a sprint.

  The couple embraced tightly, the tall, lanky Texan lifting her completely off the ground. Neither cared what the other diners thought of the display.

  “Oh my God, I’ve missed you,” Dusty whispered. “More than anything… I’m so glad you’re finally here.”

  “I know… I know,” she replied breathlessly. “I thought I might never hold you again.”

  Several moments passed, Mitch standing uncomfortably by, obviously unsure of what to do with himself. Then, with almost as much passion, the two brothers were locked in an equally emotional embrace.

  The two Weathers men eyed each other with a knowing gaze, simultaneously arriving at the same conclusion. “You look like shit,” they both announced at the same time, and then everyone was laughing.

  If the waitress or anyone else knew what was inside the case Dusty always kept at his side, they didn’t let on. Grace, however, couldn’t take her eyes off of the thing that had caused such trauma in all of their lives. While the apron-clad woman jotted down their orders for coffee, toast, and eggs, the attorney’s stare bore into the enclosed rail gun, almost as if its proximity were a harbinger of doom and gloom.

  “I should have let you destroy that thing when we had the chance,” she stated, trying her best to eliminate the venom from her voice, but failing miserably.

  The kindness never faded from Dusty’s expression. He understood, having already experienced the same internal debate a thousand times. “It’s only a thing, Grace, hunks of metal and wire. If all this drama works out as we hope, the struggle will all have been worth it. If not, I can still throw this thing into a trash truck. We’ll cheer while the workers crush it into scrap.”

  Mitch, not having been part of previous conversations, was puzzled and concerned. “What? Why are you two talking about destroying the rail gun? You can’t do that… not when we’re so close… not after what we’ve been through.”

  “Relax, Mitch,” Dusty said. “It’s a sort of a running joke between Grace and me. We seem to take turns planning the demise of the rail gun. I wonder what the president would say if I showed up at the meeting and said, ‘Sorry guys, but the deal is off. I fed the pesky thing to a rather hungry looking alligator in the marsh off Galveston Bay.’”

  The thought caused Grace to smile while a frown donned Mitch’s face. “I still don’t get it. Why would anyone want to destroy such an important discovery? I know you’ve both been through a lot… hell, we all have. From a historical perspective, great inventions and inventors have often had a tough road to travel though. You should consider yourself in good company, brother.”

  “Oh yeah, I see what you mean,” Grace grunted, her voice saturated with an overtone of sarcasm. “You know, Madam Curie co-discovered radiation and then later died of prolonged exposure to her own invention. Now there is something to aspire to, right?”

  “Yeah,” Dusty added with a grimace, “Francis Stanley was killed while driving a Stanley Steamer automobile. So I guess I should be looking at the bright side. If the feds shoot me on sight, I’ll go down in history with other brilliant, but dead-before-their-time inventors.”

  Mitch waved them both off, “That’s not what I meant, and you both know it. History is rife with great inventions that weren’t accepted at first. A year from now, we’ll all look back at this and laugh… or at least smile… I hope.”

  “Can I just have my ranch back?” Dusty asked, not really expecting an answer. “There really is no place like home, ya know?”

  “At least you’re going to get to fly today again,” Grace interrupted, trying to intercede before a skirmish broke out between the brothers.

  “So it’s all set with the rent-a-place?” Dusty asked.

  “Yes,�
�� replied Mitch, relieved the subject had been changed. “The airport is about an hour’s drive from here. I reserved one of the Cessnas from the list you provided. I had no idea you were so well schooled on all the nuances of so many different planes.”

  Dusty shrugged. “When I started the crop dusting business, I didn’t have a lot of customers at first. For a while, I was taking all the stick time I could get, thinking I might have to find work as a corporate pilot. It will be good to fly again. Seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “We’ll see if we can get the FBI to return your Thrush when this is all over,” Grace added. “I’m sure it’s still locked up in a hangar down in Houston.”

  Dusty shifted in the booth’s seat, folding his arms across his chest while exhaling a satisfied sigh, a far off twinkle in his eye and a slight smile on his lips. “Just picturing myself buzzing the jackalopes over my own ranch,” Dusty mused. “Now that would cheer me up to no end.”

  The string of black SUVs rolling across the tarmac made Dusty’s heart race, his mind battling the urge to turn and run. Grace’s presence at his side bolstered the Texan’s confidence somewhat, but he could tell she was on edge as well.

  The agreed upon meeting place was a small regional airport east of St. Louis on the Illinois side of the river. The government had negotiated for a location where they could provide security and keep the prying eyes of uninvited reporters away. Ease of air travel had been another critical requirement.

  The newly renovated executive airport met all of the criteria. It was close enough to a major metropolitan area to provide any ancillary services, including first-class lodging… should the proceedings extend into the late hours. With a state of the art conference room, high levels of private security, and a wealth of communications capabilities, the small facility seemed to be the perfect fit. In addition, its central location made it convenient for the government’s experts to fly in from all over the nation.