Chaos

by David Meyer

  “How? By wiping out the human population?”

  “By raising the cost of war to an unacceptable level. With Red Mercury, even the most backward countries can own nuclear weapons.”

  I circled around the desk and back toward the window. The giant puddle covered one half of the entire floor and was slowly seeping over to the other side of the room. In a few minutes, it would be totally flooded. “And of course, you’ll earn a tidy profit in the process. Since Red Mercury decays quickly, nations will be forced to keep buying it from you.”

  He shrugged. “Global deterrence comes at a price.”

  “You know damn well that deterrence requires rational leaders who know how to make good decisions. Does that sound even remotely similar to any politician you’ve ever known?”

  “Any nation that chooses to use Red Mercury without just cause will find its supply cut off. That alone will keep leaders in check.”

  “Your plan only works if all nations buy your product. What if that doesn’t happen?”

  “It will,” he promised. “Red Mercury will be a godsend to leaders throughout the world. For the first time, they’ll have the ability to defend against an American invasion.”

  Chase had an answer for every objection I could muster. He was utterly convincing and yet, I wasn’t convinced. “Every nation that buys Red Mercury will insist on a demonstration. Imagine over a hundred hydrogen bombs exploding at the same time. Nuclear winter is a foregone conclusion.”

  “I’m way ahead of you. There will be just one demonstration. A very visible one that will be impossible to miss.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m going to detonate a hydrogen bomb in New York City.” He said it easily, as if he were ordering lunch at a sandwich shop.

  My body tensed. “You’re crazy.”

  “Hardly.”

  I clenched my fists. “You’re going to kill innocent people if you do that. Why not just detonate it underground or over the ocean?”

  “America needs to pay for its crimes. And it’s only fitting the country that dropped the first nuclear weapon suffer the fallout from the last one.”

  “What do you have against this country anyways?”

  Chase grabbed both side of his silk shirt and yanked. It burst open, revealing a disgusting mass of scars, welts, and discoloration.

  Bile rose in my throat. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “August 6, 1945.” His voice took on a harsh, bitter edge. “The Enola Gay dropped Little Boy on Hiroshima. Eighty thousand civilians died instantly. Thousands more perished afterward, due to injuries and radiation fallout.”

  “You were there? But that’s impossible. You told me your father was an American soldier who died while you were an infant. You said you wanted justice for him.”

  “My father was an American soldier. He was also a prisoner of war. The Japanese kept him in Hiroshima, along with at least eleven others, as a deterrent to prevent American bombings. Somehow, a Geisha girl found her way into his cell. She gave birth to me. But the politicians didn’t care about any of that. The deterrent, if you will, wasn’t large enough.”

  “Killing innocent Americans won’t bring back your dad.”

  “Even today, most Americans glorify Little Boy for saving lives. They don’t even realize that the atomic bombs were completely unnecessary. They weren’t the last bombs of World War II.” He glared at me. “They were the first bombs of the Cold War, with no other purpose than to scare the Soviet Union. Americans are fools who deserve to feel the pain that they’ve brought to the rest of the world. I plan to give them a taste of their own medicine and in the process, bring about the end of war.”

  Feverishly, my brain considered my choices. The window was a non-starter. My only option was to take out Chase and then do my best to get past Standish. But between my injuries and loss of blood, I wasn’t sure I was up to the task.

  I stared into his eyes. “War begets war. If you blow up a bomb in New York City, you’ll merely unleash more hell upon the earth.”

  “That’s enough talking,” Chase said. “I need Hartek’s journal. I hope you’ll give it to me because you understand that I’m doing the right thing. If not, I’ll be forced to kidnap Diane. How much torture do you think you’ll allow her to endure before you tell me where to find the book?”

  His feet shifted positions, causing light splashes in the giant puddle.

  My mind flashed back to the subway. To the industrial river flowing through the trackbed.

  To the third rail.

  Leaping forward, my hand grabbed the desk lamp.

  Startled, he shifted his gun toward me.

  I smashed the lamp onto the ground and leapt away from the water. It exploded and sparks shot across the floor, lighting up the dark space.

  As Chase scrambled onto the desk, I darted across the room. At the door, I turned and shot him a quick glance.

  He glared at me. “You’re dead.”

  I smiled grimly as I barreled into the next room.

  No, I’m not. Not yet anyways

  .

  Chapter 35

  The metal door caught as I crashed through it. I heard Standish shout. Lowering my shoulder, I shoved it with all of my might.

  Abruptly, it gave way and I burst into the reception area. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Standish collapse in a heap on the floor. I’d bought myself a few seconds. It wasn’t much.

  But it would have to do.

  I whipped my head to the left. The double glass doors came into view, as did the hard chairs, the framed articles and pictures, the side tables, and the stacks of military-themed magazines.

  Not a single damned weapon.

  My head revolved to the right so fast my vision blurred. More framed articles and pictures. A small water cooler. A single-serving coffee machine on a table. A swivel chair. The receptionist’s desk.

  Something glinted in the overhead light.

  My hand shot to the desk. My fingers closed around the textured grip and I ripped the gun from my satchel.

  I wheeled around and pointed it directly at Standish’s heart. He lay sideways, one elbow balanced on the floor, the other poised loosely in the air. His tense hands were wrapped around his 9 mm. His eyes peered out from behind the sight.

  “Ryan,” screamed Chase from the other room. “Don’t shoot him. We need him.”

  Standish’s eyes tightened. “Drop the gun.”

  “You first.”

  “I’ll shoot.”

  “No you won’t.” I intensified my gaze. “But I will.”

  “Ryan,” Chase yelled again. “Don’t –”

  Standish growled. “Shut up, Jack.”

  For ten seconds, we stood there, neither of us moving an inch. We were like two statues in some sort of bizarre museum exhibit…quiet, unyielding, and deadly.

  I still felt dizzy from loss of blood. But despite everything, I still hadn’t experienced a stabbing headache or a sudden burst of strange colors. What did that mean? Was I finally putting my PTSD behind me?

  My muscles grew tense and my mind focused on the task at hand. I couldn’t afford to waste time. I needed to get out of that room and fast.

  Keeping his gun leveled with my eyes, Standish slowly rose to his feet. “I don’t care what Jack says. If you don’t put that gun down, I’ll kill you.”

  “Is that right? Am I just another obstacle on your way to mass murder?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He looked genuinely confused. I decided to press the point. “Chase told me about his plans for Red Mercury. I knew you were cold-blooded, but a nuclear attack on Manhattan? That’s insane.”

  He laughed. “We’re not attacking anyone. We’re going to make a mint selling the stuff. But that’s as far as it goes.”

  I grinned knowingly. “You might want to have a talk with Chase. It seems he’s been keeping secrets from you.”

  Standish didn’t blink.

  Keeping the pistol tra
ined on him, my right hand reached to the desk and felt around until my fingers touched my satchel. I grabbed it and hoisted it over my shoulder.

  I strode to the front of the desk, edged my way around it, and slowly started backing toward the hallway.

  “I’m not joking,” Standish said. “I’ll kill you.”

  “You shoot me, I shoot you.”

  “I’ll do it. I swear to God I’ll do it.”

  My chest tightened as I walked backward. Was he bluffing?

  Or would he follow through on his threat?

  I continued to walk backward until I bumped up against the clouded glass doors. I pushed my way through them and into the corridor. Seconds later, the clouded glass doors swung shut, shielding me from sight. A wave of relief swept over me.

  But it didn’t last.

  Keeping my gun pointed at the door, I pressed the elevator call button. As the gears worked, my thoughts turned to the next step. Undoubtedly, there were guards in the lobby. How would I get by them?

  The doors opened and I ran into the elevator car. As it descended toward the lobby, I tried to formulate a plan. But I quickly discarded all of my ideas due to lack of information. There were just too many variables to consider.

  I plastered my back against the wall next to the door. It wasn’t the ideal position to stage a gunfight, but at least it gave me some cover.

  My body jolted as the elevator jerked to a halt. I stood still for a moment, feeling blood and sweat drip down my face. I tried to remain patient, but the elevator car remained absolutely still.

  Reaching over, I pressed the Down button.

  The car didn’t move.

  I waited a few seconds and then pressed it again.

  Still no movement.

  Abruptly, the elevator jerked and started to glide along its rails.

  My heart started to pound against my chest.

  The elevator wasn’t going down…it was going up.

  Chapter 36

  The elevator car ignored me as I repeatedly slammed my finger against the Down button. Instead, it continued to creep upward at about half speed, slowly returning me to the one place I didn’t want to go.

  Back to the top floor.

  Back to Standish. Back to Chase.

  Back to danger.

  I examined the control panel. But besides the Up and Down buttons, the only other object within reach was a small black phone.

  Suddenly, it rang.

  I froze in place.

  It rang again.

  I picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Nice try, Cyclone,” Chase said. “But I’m afraid your luck’s run out. We’ll see you soon.”

  “Can I get a rain check?”

  The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

  I returned the phone to its cradle. Chase sounded confident, cocky even. I got the sense that it wasn’t just him waiting for me. With my luck, he’d probably called for additional support via a back staircase or something.

  Suppressing my annoyance, I returned my attention to the control panel.

  Removing my machete from the satchel, I rammed it into the small space between the wall and the panel. It took a few seconds for me to pry it open.

  I was greeted by a dizzying array of wires and switches. I fiddled with them for a few seconds, trying to understand the complicated network at my fingertips. But I knew I’d never figure it out in time.

  Stepping back, I raised the machete and stabbed it into the panel. The blade swooped through the air, shearing the wires and destroying the switches.

  The lights evaporated.

  The humming noise stopped.

  And then, the elevator car ground to a halt.

  Triumph surged through me. But it melted away quickly. Twenty stories still separated me from the lobby.

  I hadn’t stopped the inevitable.

  I’d merely delayed it.

  My eyes swept the space, searching for options. To the right of the now-dark overhead light, I noticed something that looked like an access panel. Climbing around in an elevator shaft didn’t sound like a good time. And between my sore, exhausted body and torn, bloody hands, I wasn’t even sure I could handle it.

  But anything was better than waiting around for the welcoming party.

  I returned the machete to its sheath and leapt into the air. My hand banged against the metal panel. It lifted an inch and slammed shut again.

  As I dropped back to the floor, I looked up in frustration. The overhead panel was locked. I reached for my flashlight to take a closer look.

  Light blazed from above. Squinting, I shielded my eyes.

  What the hell…?

  The phone rang.

  I grabbed it without looking. “Can’t this wait? I’m a little busy in here.”

  “Watch this.”

  The elevator jerked again.

  Then it started to rise.

  Chase’s voice spat into my ear. “Now, you listen to me, asshole. That was your last…”

  I hung up on him.

  As I turned back to the overhead panel, I felt my stomach tying itself into knots. Obviously, the elevator car was hooked up to a backup power source somewhere. On the bright side, I was only rising at a quarter of the original speed.

  But I was still rising.

  I jumped up again, smashing my fist into the panel. Again, it only budged an inch. However, this time I managed to catch a glimpse of the lock’s position.

  Grabbing my gun, I took aim at the panel.

  As I prepared to fire, a brief vision of a bullet bouncing around inside the elevator crossed my mind. Pushing it away, I gritted my teeth.

  No time for doubts.

  I fired. The blast reverberated in the elevator as the lock exploded into smithereens. I steeled myself and waited for the telltale sound of bouncing metal. But silence followed. After a few seconds, I released my breath.

  Wasting no time, I returned the gun to its holster. Then I bent down and jumped again. My fist crashed into the access panel. It flew out of the way, revealing a wide gap.

  I landed back in the elevator car. Crouching low, I jumped again. My fingers wrapped around the sharp metallic edges of the hole. Wincing, I flexed my arms and slowly pulled myself up.

  Moments later, I scrambled onto the roof of the elevator car. It quivered slightly and although it seemed secure, I couldn’t help but wonder when it received its last inspection.

  I knelt next to the crosshead and took the opportunity to study the elevator shaft. Each corner contained two metal beams, which ran the length of the shaft. Thin metal fencing, interspersed with long blocks of wood, ran in a continuous loop behind the beams. Between two of the beams, I saw a substantial counterweight, slowly dropping to the ground.

  My eyes followed a pair of thick hoist cables to a pulley positioned at the top of the shaft.

  “I see him!”

  A glint of light caught my eye as the unfamiliar voice rumbled down from above.

  I heard a burst.

  A breeze shot by my side.

  Abruptly, a torrent of gunfire rained down upon me. I scrambled back to the hole and dropped head first into the elevator car.

  The gunfire ceased but it didn’t matter.

  I was screwed.

  Completely, utterly screwed.

  The elevator car was hauling me to my eventual grave and my long-shot attempt to escape had been thwarted. In frustration, I slammed my foot on the floor.

  It moved.

  Not much, but it still moved. I kneeled and studied the area. A thin patch of carpet covered the car’s entire floor. Taking out my machete, I began hacking away at it.

  The blade quickly exposed a depressed compartment. Inside it, I saw a second access panel, locked with a small padlock. I fired my gun at the panel. Metal exploded as the bullet ripped through the lock and left a steaming hole in its wake. Leaning down, I unlatched the panel and opened it up.

  Below, I saw a couple of cables vanishing into a deep, dark abyss.


  Why can’t I just use the stairs like everyone else?

  I sat and dangled my legs out of the elevator car. They wrapped around the cable and I carefully lowered myself into the shaft. Then I began to climb downward.

  My frustration began to seep through as I worked my way down the cable. For every foot I descended, the elevator seemed to pull me another two feet into the air. I felt like a damn iceberg.

  The elevator slammed to a halt. I snuck a glimpse upward. I’d managed to separate myself from the car. Unfortunately, I wasn’t out of shooting range.

  Far from it.

  I heard angry shouts. A few moments passed. Then a thin light poked through the car and into the dark shaft. It swept from one side to the other. As it fell onto me, it stopped.

  Then it clicked off.

  I looked at the gigantic counterweight, but it was too far away to reach. Shifting my gaze, I realized that the thin shaft offered nothing in the way of hiding spots or cover.

  Bracing myself, I loosened my grip and slid down the cable. The metal strands sliced through my raw skin. My blood splattered all over the shaft.

  Blocking out the pain, I peeked upward.

  I saw no light.

  I heard no gunfire.

  See you later, suckers.

  But the farther I slid, the more doubt I felt. The shaft was thin and wide open and I was climbing down the centermost cable. I might as well have been hiding in front of a bulls-eye.

  A motor whirred to life and the cable jerked to the side. Caught by surprise, I halted for a split second. But to my horror, I continued to descend.

  Chase wasn’t going to shoot me.

  He was going to crush me.

  Some people die having sex with a beautiful woman. But not me. I get to be smashed like a bug on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

  I loosened my grip further. My hands stung as I dropped down the shaft. Soon they felt like they were on fire and I could almost smell the smoke wafting from the cable. But still, I felt the car bearing down on me. I was moving fast, but not fast enough.

  As I slid down the cable, I kept my eyes glued to the bottom of the shaft. At first, I saw only darkness. But soon, the bottom appeared.

  It looked like a mixture of metal blocks and rails. I slid down another few feet. Then with about ten feet to go, I released the cable.