by Nye, Laine
FORCED GRAVITY
BY
LAINE NYE
TEXT COPYRIGHT 2018
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
I would like to acknowledge the generous support of some people who make my book a better read. First and foremost is my wife Revelina who has supported me as an author from the time before were we even married. She is always there for me so I will always be there for her.
I would like to thank my son Jared Nye for his suggestions and input on some details that have
helped to make my story more readable. Also, my son Joseph Nye who read the manuscript and helped me to eradicate errors. The book is easier to read thanks to him. Any errors remaining are mine alone.
My step-son Julius Brandy Miranda Asperin has helped me with the formatting of this book so it could be released on kindle as well as get it formatted for Amazon publishing. His Brother Jan Angelo Miranda Asperin helped to create a book cover that is different from my first novel G-force, but still contains similarities. The processes for these contributors were not easy but were vitally necessary. Writing a book is truly a group effort.
Thanks goes to all, including my readers who enjoy my work. Hopefully, we can have a long and enjoyable relationship.
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
Brad (Seth Collins) Shaw was shocked into inaction when the man walked up and put a gun to the back of his 15-year-old son’s head. He had not had trouble with violent people since he escaped from Utah after his enemies were hunting him. That had been a long time ago. The last time he had been over the hole in the ground he had gained very fast reflexes. He was faster than anyone he had ever seen.
He should have been able to grab the gun out of the man’s hand with such lightning speed that the man wouldn’t even know it was happening until it was way too late. But the man was on the far side of his son. Brad and Steve were both sitting across from each other at a table in a library reading books. His son was a little too far out of Brad’s reach to make that kind of maneuver without the risk of Steve getting shot.
Then Brad’s spine started tingling like it always did whenever he was about to use his gravity control capability; This most unusual power he had gained the first time he had been placed over the hole in Huntsville Utah by Albert Belasco. Brad was winding up his power to full throttle to unleash it on the man with the gun to throw him into the wall that was ten feet behind the gunman. He would use enough force to knock him out or disable him.
At the very moment that he was going to release his energy, the man pulled open a jacket he was wearing. There was a bomb attached to his torso. The gunman held up his left hand while his right still held the gun to Steve’s head. There was a switch in his hand with wires running up his arm to the bomb.
The gunman threatened to push the button with his thumb. “If you don’t do exactly what I tell you, we all die” He said.
Brad had to dial back his g-force. He could not run the risk of the bomb detonating while trying to save his son. The shock wave could potentially travel a great distance. Cold sweat ran down his back. His forehead was wet. Sweat began to drip down into his eyes. “Put your gun on me. Leave my son out of this.” Brad said.
“Not a chance. Both of you are coming with me or all three of us die right here, right now.”
“What do you want?”
“It’s what I need.” The gunman corrected. “You and your son and a few others are going to help me get it.”
“What do you need?” Brad asked with a tremulous voice.
“Four million dollars. That’s all. Now both of you get up and we are going to walk carefully over to that conference room with those people in there.”
The conference room referred to was behind a glass wall. A glass door led to the room where eight people were sitting engaged in a discussion.
Brad looked into the eyes of the gunman. They were frenzied. Mental illness seemed to ooze from them. His posture was wooden, hunched. Tension radiated from him. He looked to be in his early forties. Nondescript except for the eyes that moved frantically. Relentlessly. He wore ill-fitting clothing. Old shoes. Hair a mousey brown color that looked like he had cut it himself. Shaggy and uneven. Brad knew that he was dangerous. Unstable.
“Get up.” He yelled. Brad and son had not yet moved. Several people in the library turned their heads when he yelled. Now they were alerted. They saw the gun and the bomb vest. They all ran for the stairway to get away from the madman. Some were already calling 911 on cell phones.
“Won’t do you any good to call. I already called the police.” The gunman yelled. As if on cue, sirens could be heard approaching the library. A lot of sirens.
He wanted the police to come it appeared. That’s how he would make his demand for the money, Brad thought. Directly from the police. With the police being pulled into the situation that early, Brad feared that he would not have the time he needed to look for an opening; Exploit a moment of inattentiveness when the bomber would not be able to do harm. Time was not on his side. Brad and Steve were still sitting. Brad looked at his son and saw fear mingled with outrage. That scared Brad. Steve had inherited the g-force ability from his father at birth. He would have never thought that the energy would be carried on genetically. But that’s what happened. It was more powerful in Steve than it was in Brad. Brad feared that Steve would take matters into his own hands which would very likely make things worse. Brad stood up abruptly.
“Don’t.” He said to his son looking at him intently. “Come on son. Do what he says.”
Steve looked into his father’s eyes, saw the warning there. So, he reluctantly withdrew his plan to attack the gunman; The bomber. He stood up slowly. Then the gunman rushed them over to the conference room. Bursting through the door after forcing Brad and Steve to enter, he brandished his weapon and showed his bomb to the people there. The cacophony of sound rose and slowly died. Fear mingled with near panic had a grip on each of them. The people in the conference room were all sitting around a table. There were eight of them. Ten total now.
“Join them.” The gunman demanded as he waved his gun towards two empty chairs. Father and son slowly sat down near the end of the table as they heard the sirens entering the library grounds.
The gunman pulled a back pack off his shoulders. Brad hadn’t even noticed it before. In the back pack was a long, coiled rope. He pulled it out and threw it to a guy at the other end of the table. The guy was dressed professionally in a suit and tie. He looked alert, wary but not as nervous as everyone else.
“Tie that rope around each person. Leave about three feet in between. Then on to the next. You will be the last one on the line. Do it fast. NOW.” The gunman said. Then he pulled a phone out of his pocket that had already been connected to the police and spoke, “Don’t let any cops on the second floor. I told you I have a bomb and I will use it if I have to.”
There was a response on the cell, but Brad could not hear it. The rope was being tied around each person then on to the next victim starting with the people closest to the door which was the opposite side of the table from Brad and Steve. The gunman turned his head back toward the glass doors to check if any police had shown up. As he did the man in the suit opened the left side of his suitcoat and started to make a grab for a Glock that was in a shoulder holster then closed it again when the gunman turned around. He was a cop. Everyone that had noticed now knew that he was there as an officer of the law. Hopefully there would not be any panic. The officer hoped they
would calm down. He would be waiting for his chance to rescue the victims by taking out the gunman
. Everyone was tied off now with the three feet of rope between them. No one would be escaping from the table without the gunman’s leave.
The gunman spoke again. “When we leave, we will leave as a group.” He pointed at the rope and snickered. “Obviously.” He said with his snicker. “We will be taking a bus out of here as soon as I have the four million and the bus. That’s my demand and if they don’t do it within four hours from when I called them, we all go kaboom.”
Then he sat down among the group next to Brad, so he would not be an easy target for a sniper. He lifted his phone to talk with the police again.
“Please let me go.” A woman demanded though she had said please.
“Anybody begs to be released and I will shoot them. The others will have to carry their body because I am not letting anyone off that rope.”
Brad saw his son becoming more indignant and afraid. It was the indignant part that scared Brad. His son could be very impetuous at times even when he had been warned not to rush into things. If he used his gravity control on the gunman, it was highly likely it would end badly for everyone there.
“Don’t Steve.” He said as quiet as possible. Steve looked at his father and barely nodded his acknowledgment.
The gunman hit Brad in the back of the head with the gun. “No talking to anyone in the group.”
Brad Grabbed the back of his head with a look of pain on his face and turned to look at the gunman. “Have you thought this thing through? So, you get a bus and four million dollars. Do you think the police will just let you drive away without following you everywhere you go? They will be in the air and on the ground, all around the bus. You can’t get away.”
“Then we all go kaboom. I already told you that.”
“Then this is really just a murder-suicide. All of us will die with you.” Brad said.
“Kaboom.”
There was shocked silence. Nobody dared to plead for their life after his warning. To a person, they felt that there might be a way to survive this. They still had hope. Three women sat in the group with eight men including the gunman.
“If we’re all going to die, then we should just rush you and take the chance that we could win. You lose.” Brad told him.
He looked at Brad with a hateful glare. “You think you could jump me with that rope around all of you? Kind of get scrambled up, wouldn’t you? I said no more talking at all or I will shoot you. None of you say a word.”
Then Steve spoke impulsively. “If you harm my dad, you’d better hope I don’t survive. Because you won’t.”
The gun was pointed at Steve’s head again. “No.” Brad shouted. “Not my son.” His spine had begun to tingle. The gunman was not tied to the rope. Maybe Brad could throw him through the glass like he had done once before to a few people at a different library. But no. The glass could never protect this group from the explosion. Brad eased off the energy release that would initiate the gravity modification. There had to be a way. He needed to figure it out. “I’m sorry my son spoke to you that way. It won’t happen again.”
“Not if he’s dead he won’t.” He began to chortle. Thought that was funny. He took the gun away from Steve’s head. “Not another word kid. Not one.”
∆∆∆
Charlene Collins was happy when her husband Brad and son Steve got a chance to go out together. It didn’t happen often enough since her husband had become a partner in an aviation business. The company brokered deals for all kinds of aircraft in the private sector. They also bought and sold used aircraft and repaired or refurbished them as needed. It was a lucrative business, but It kept Brad away from home more than she liked.
She was still happy though. Happy to be a stay at home mom. Take care of the house and do a few business things online as much or little as she wanted. She was looking forward to Brad and Steve coming home soon as they were all going to a matinee at a nearby theater, then out for dinner at a nice restaurant.
She couldn’t believe that she had been married to Brad for almost seventeen years already. Time flew nowadays. She remembered how Brad, known to her as Seth, had rescued her from the earthquake at the swimming pool she was swimming in. The roof had torn loose because of the earthquake and was falling on top of her when Brad had stopped it with his incredible g-force. Then he had removed her from the building and taken her high up into the night sky holding her in his arms as they went up. She hadn’t been afraid. She had felt comforted in his arms. She remembered looking down on the city from so high up. It had been a beautiful night, made more so because he had just saved her life.
When her son inherited the g-force from his dad, she could not have been more surprised. It had been very difficult keeping Steve from using his ability where others would see it. So much training and teaching to convince a little boy that he must not use his ‘talent’ in front of others. He had made a few mistakes along the way. Fortunately, they were minor incidents that were discounted by the witnesses themselves. When Steve was feeling impulsive they had to really monitor him closely. Sometimes he wanted to use his ability on people that offended or bullied him or others. It took a lot of self-control on his part gained only by the training they had instilled in him. She looked at her watch. They should be home within the hour, so they could leave together for the movie.
∆∆∆
The tension was eating at Brad’s gut as he watched for opportunities to take down the gunman. He also watched the plainclothes policeman who was also watching, biding his time. Maybe too much time, though he seemed to be watching the gunman closely. Brad would have been calmer if Steve had not been with him. Protecting Steve was paramount for Brad. Part of that protection meant protecting Steve from himself. He was looking to use his forced gravity energy and Brad had given him looks several times to discourage him. He wanted to calm his son, but he dared not speak.
If only there had been a window off the conference room leading to the outside. He could have launched the gunman through the window to the ground two stories down. That side of the library did not have any people around. No one would be hurt but the gunman. But there was no window and Brad knew he could not throw him through the wall of the building.
There was an elevator just out of sight of the conference room next to a smaller stairway than the main one. The elevator doors opened, and six policemen disgorged in a tactical manner. Each of them wore combat fatigues, armor and carried assault rifles. They crept forward against the wall towards the conference room and stood at the ready. Two more crept up the main stairway but were immediately seen by the gunman. He grabbed his cell phone off the table and yelled into it. “I told you no cops on the second floor. I will kill all of us if you don’t withdraw. That includes the other stairs and the elevator. I will push this button and ruin your whole day. Get out. Get me my money. Get me the bus. You only have three and a half hours left.”
The swat team pair withdrew from the central stairway. The ones from the elevator did not. One of those that had been on the main stairs spoke into a sleeve mic. “I saw which one of the group just used his cell phone. He’s on the far side of the table, second from the end next to a teenager on one side and a guy in his late thirties on the other.”
“Copy that.” The commanding officer responded. “Everyone know where he is in the room?” He got several affirmative responses back.
“All right. If we need to rush him I want to make sure you don’t hit the wrong target. I don’t want any trigger-happy cops taking out the wrong person.” He received the same responses back.
Two more heart pounding hours went by. The adrenaline in the room was at a fever pitch. No one could calm down. Even the plainclothes detective was getting on edge. The cell phone was still connected to the police. The cell was hooked up to a portable power supply, so the battery did not die. The negotiator kept talking to the gunman trying to calm him. The gunman did not respond to him. He
only spoke when he made his demands again.
The negotiator spoke loudly at the three-and a half hour mark so that he would be heard by the gunman. He told the gunman that the bus was in front of the library with the money onboard. The gunman was free to take the bus. Brad did not believe the money could already be there. The vast majority of banks were just branches and did not have anywhere near four million dollars in their vaults. A bank that would have that much money didn’t just hand over four million when a kidnapper made a demand. Brad knew they were hitting a critical moment. If the money was not there and it was discovered by the gunman, all their lives would be forfeit. Brad began to plan how to disable the bomber before they got near the bus.
He was sure that the swat team had laid a trap with snipers, so they could take the gunman down before he even got to the bus. Then the gunman spoke looking at the group one by one as he said. “When we leave, I will be rocking back and forth and ducking with each step, so they can’t get a bead on me. They take one shot, and I push the button.”
He said that quietly with his hand over the phone, so it would not be heard outside the room. He had a smirk on his face as he spoke. His expression looked self-assured. But he was starting to tremble, and Brad took that as a sign that he was getting scared. But then he wondered if it was just the anticipation of setting off the bomb on his chest. He was unpredictable. Brad looked at the incognito detective with a questioning look. The look he got back seemed to say, not yet. Brad thought ‘when? What are you waiting for?’
“Okay people. Let’s go.” The gunman said. “Everyone will stand up at the exact same time on my count of three. I am not going to be a target for them.”
And they did. They all stood up together when he counted. One of the men and two of the women were beginning to sob. The gunman went to the back of the line and held on to the plainclothes detective’s suit coat while ducking low.
