The Lesser Evil

by Jim Magwood

  million people each year flocked to the Disneyland in the Desert. The residents of the city fought to get in line to serve in the facilities, not for the wages, but for the tips that could be had.

  The buses waited behind a small rise of hills that sheltered them from view by the city. Several trucks had pulled up beside them and many barrels the size of oil drums were loaded onto the buses. Each bus had a specifically calculated load.

  Shortly after midnight, the buses came to life again and proceeded to quietly move down the road leading into the city. As they went through the main gates, they were recognized as the tourist line belonging to the family and were simply waved through by the guards. After getting to the first major intersection inside the city, each bus pulled out of the line and headed to it’s own special destination. One bus pulled up to each of the three major international bank buildings and drove down into the underground parking garages. One of the buses drove to the parking lot of a building just short of the oil refinery, and one more waited just two blocks from the electrical plant. One bus each drove to the gates of the four family palaces, the drivers hopped out and opened the gates with special keys, and the buses then drove into the center of the palace compounds. One bus pulled into the underground parking garage of the family business center after showing the lone guard a pass explaining it would be used for a special trip planned for the employees in the mid-morning. The eleventh and twelfth buses drove to the two largest warehousing centers and, again using special keys, entered the gates and moved to the centers of the compounds. The last two buses drove out in the desert to a secluded area just off the ends of the two most important runways of the magnificent airport and parked. All the drivers except those of the buses at the refinery, electrical plant and airport quietly left their vehicles and simply walked away into the dark.

  At exactly 2 a.m., the two buses at the refinery and electrical plant came to life and turned onto the roads leading into the respective plants. Each of them veered off the main road just before reaching the plants and rushed down side streets toward secondary gates. Without even pausing, the buses crashed through the unguarded gates and picked their ways to the center of the plants. As soon as they arrived, the drivers, in coveralls and hard hats identical to those worn by all the plant personnel, walked away from the buses and hurried back the way they had come and out of the plants. Cars were waiting for each of the drivers just outside the fences and all of them were shortly in the desert several miles away.

  The only disturbances had been at the oil and power plants, and silence soon covered all the bus locations. At the oil and power plants, personnel investigating knew what they had found the moment they boarded the buses, but also found the buses had been made inoperable. They wisely got back off the buses and, without trying to do anything more about the situations, rapidly fled the plants. Alarms sounded throughout the plants, but as the workers got the rumors of what was waiting in the buses, they all simply moved very quickly to the gates and their homes, gathered their families and got out of the city to the desert. Alarms and phones rang throughout the city, but nobody really knew what was going on so no news got to the various family members. No one would dare waken them, anyway. Security personnel tried to get information on what was going on, but the only real alarms had been at the two plants and no one was answering phones there. If a phone did get answered, it was by someone who didn’t know what was happening, and everything came to a standstill.

  At 3 a.m., the standstill came alive. Electronic radio triggers in each of the buses set off triggering devices that set off the explosives in the oil drums. Each bus had had its load calculated to be most effective for the location it had been taken to. The explosions under each of the banks and the family business complex erupted with massive bursts of flames and heat, lifted the buildings up off their respective foundations and caused them to crash back down into massive rubble piles in the basements. The flames had been designed to be extremely destructive, and basically, all records were incinerated and most of the equipment and recording devices melted. The explosives at the family palaces and the warehousing complexes had been designed with shape charges to blow out sideways, spreading massive flames and multiple secondary charges throughout the areas for hundreds of feet. As each secondary charge went off, they, too, produced more fire and destruction. The various compounds and almost everything they contained were quickly reduced to more piles of burning rubble.

  The two buses at the refining and electrical plants were the most heavily loaded with several types of explosives. At the refinery, shaped charges had been pointed up at angles in all directions and, when they went off, the charges sent missiles flying for hundreds of yards. As each landed, they exploded with enough force to ignite the equipment and storage tanks nearby and in minutes the entire plant was on fire. Million gallon storage tanks exploded and sent flames rolling over the rest of the plant. Storage warehouses for refined products exploded, sending the barrels of blazing material hundreds of yards in every direction. The heat of the explosions was so intense that even the pipelines carrying raw crude into the plant exploded open and the fires roared back up the lines.

  Emergency shut off valves had never been designed for this type of situation and many of them simply exploded open and the flames followed the pipelines miles out into the desert before finally stopping. The oil that kept flowing from the desert burst out of the destroyed pipe ends and formed huge lakes of fire that burned until valves further up the lines were finally turned off the next day.

  The charges in the bus at the electrical plant had been designed as shaped charges to go directly out to the sides and they rocketed through the many towers and transformers for many yards before they, too, exploded. When they did, they were massive bombs that simply brought down towers and crushed every piece of equipment they were close to. They then caused extremely hot fires that virtually melted everything around them. Workers who came in to begin repairs later said it looked like most of the plant had been fused together. It was quickly decided there was no use trying to save or repair anything in the compound. It would be simpler for the family to just move the plant to another location and completely rebuild. The destroyed plant would be dismantled and dragged off at a later date.

  The two buses at the airport roared to life, drove out of the cover they had been in and crashed through the fences at the end of the major runways. Each one tore down a runway while the men in the back dumped the contents of the oil drums out the back doors. They both then crashed through the fences at the other end of the runways and turned toward the luxurious, enclosed transport system leading into the city and dumped the contents of their remaining barrels against the sides of the system for several miles. The contents of the barrels turned out to be bomblets of the type usually used for carpet-bombing in jungles and other secluded places, and within about three minutes of being scattered started exploding down the runways and the transport system. Calls had been made in advance and the system had been shut down with any passengers being removed. Three jumbo jets coming in for landings had been diverted to airports many miles away. Those on the ground waiting for takeoff had been returned to the terminals.

  The bomblets devastated the lengths of the runways. Very few planes were going to be using the airport for a long time, and the ones that could use alternate runways would only be smaller ones. No more jumbos. The tram system into the city was destroyed for the miles the bomblets had been spread and would likely take years to rebuild. The world’s largest airport, serving the world’s most extravagant city-playground, was no longer operating.

  Fortunately, the locations of all the explosions were situ-ated far enough away from any residences and the tourist hotels that almost no one was hurt. Homes shook as if from massive earthquakes, and several fires were started, but emergency vehicles were able to contain the few residential fires without serious problems. None of the actual sites of the explosions, though, could even be entered, much less have the destr
uction controlled. They were simply total losses. As many of the dazzling tourist attractions and hotels were inspected and declared likely unsafe, the tourists simply left and did not return. Most of the hotels would ultimately be razed.

  Within a week, the ruling family was in planning discussions with several contractors, most from outside the country, and was well on its way to beginning to rebuild their city.

  However, the contractors wisely demanded considerable down payments before even finalizing the drawing of the plans, and it was only then that devastating discoveries were made. The ruling family no longer had any money in any bank, and even their properties were being disputed.

  The banks where their riches had been held were reporting all accounts had been emptied and closed. Where there had been billions, there was now nothing. There had been no direct orders given by any family members to empty any of the accounts—no signatures, no paper work. There were, however, traces of entries into the computer systems on the night of the explosions in the city, and electronic transfers had been made removing all funds and sending them through a series of automated accounts around the world. As the funds entered each account, a trigger was activated that sent the funds on to the next stop, and within only minutes the funds were completely lost. The total amounts missing were not able to be tabulated; they had simply been too large and scattered through too many banks to be reconciled. Many guesses were made, but the simple fact was, the family just did not have any money any more.

  All oil that had flowed into the city and into the family coffers had now been stopped, and it would take years to rebuild all the systems—if the family had the money to pay for the work.

  Perhaps even more devastating than the loss of actual cash and accounts was that almost all records of land and property holdings, all deeds, titles, records of loans, promis-sory notes due to the family, records of assets, everything that had listed or proven asset rights of the family, were gone, destroyed in the various explosions. The word spread quickly.

  Payments on deeds and notes dried up. Squatters quickly set up homes, or filed for title on properties that had been held by the family and now couldn’t be proven. Invoices and past due notices for amounts three and four times the original amounts suddenly surfaced and were presented to the family for payment. Of course, the family couldn’t pay them anyway. Universities abroad removed family members from classes when tuition payments were not made and the students weren’t even able to arrange for flights back home. Supplies of food and other household needs quietly disappeared from all the stores, and the pantries in homes emptied just as quickly. Many of the ruling family members were reduced to frantically calling other relations around the world for emergency assistance.

  Interestingly, though immediately making loud protesta-tions about the terrorist sabotage that had reduced a ruling family to virtual paupers and beggars, the Egyptian royal families stayed in the background and did not rush to the assistance of their beleaguered relatives. The majority of the citizens of the city had very quickly left their homes and headed out to find their own relief, and basically only the ruling family was left behind. Small shipments of emergency supplies were sent to them, with notes of consolation, but they had been left very much to their own devices to survive, and rebuild if they could.

  Rumors slowly began to leak that spoke of messages received by the royal families of the country that they might be next if they intervened. If the purported messages weren’t in actuality received, many of the royal family members had quickly reviewed their own situations and decided to stay far away from the action and any possible overflow or reprisals toward their own riches and holdings.

  The opulent, world-renowned city created amidst nothing but desert sand virtually ceased to exist, and the ruling family began to look like the Bedouin desert dwellers they had once been.

  CHAPTER 12

  David Westing sat on the curb across the street from his office building and watched the dust clear from the collapse. It had appeared to explode like a bomb as the floors dropped into the underground garage and the fire and smoke burst up through the debris. He didn’t say anything to anyone, just sat there in shock shaking his head. The fire chief came over and took some basic information from him, and David caught the look of suspicion as the chief finally walked away.

  It wasn’t until he realized he couldn’t see the scene very well that he noticed that night had fallen. He thought his damp clothes were from the fire hoses, but again belatedly realized that a slight rain was falling. He was cold, wet, and hungry, and was bone tired from sitting on the sidewalk for hours. He struggled to his feet and swayed for a moment as he gathered his equilibrium. It took a great deal of effort to finally move one foot forward, then follow it with the next, and he was gradually shuffling down the street past the front of where his building had once stood.

  Then, a thought slowly wormed through his mind, Where am I going? He stopped shuffling and just stood for several minutes thinking the same question over and over: What happened?

  His mind cleared a little and he recognized where he was standing and how uncomfortable he was. He slowly reached into his pockets and inventoried the few personal items he had with him. His cell phone, his wallet and car keys. Yeah. Where did I leave my car? Oh, yeah. I took the cab today. A few dollars in pocket change. His pen and notebook were in his shirt pocket. Where’s my coat? And my brief…Oh, did I leave them upstairs? Then he began to wonder how he was going to get home . No car. Have to find a cab. He looked down the street half a block and saw a phone booth. I can call a cab.

  He suddenly remembered his wife had been stuck downtown with some stuff she bought, and wondered if she had been able to get home. Why should I care, he thought. It’s over now, anyway. Wherever I go now, she won’t be there.

  And he then realized it wasn’t just the rain. There were tears running down his face. The shock and anger welled up in him and he suddenly screamed out, “Noooooooo.” The sound of pain echoed back to him in the canyon of the city street for a moment, then the old man sleeping in the doorway behind him shouted back at him in a sick, gravely voice, “Shut up, idiot. Get out of here. This is my place.”

  And the quiet settled back in. He stood for another couple of moments, then shuffled a few steps toward the bum, thinking, I’m going to kick him—hard. As he stood over him and smelled the dirt and filth, he pulled his foot back—and then saw the flash of the knife blade as the old man screamed, “I’ll cut you. Get away from me. I’ll cut you bad.” He dropped his foot back to the sidewalk, stood for a moment, and finally shuffled away toward the phone booth.

  He found the phone book was gone, so dialed the Operator and said, “Can you call me a cab?”

  “No, sir,’ he said, “I’m not able to do that.”

  David simply said, “Oh,” and hung up. He stood looking at the phone for a while, then finally turned and started shuffling down to the cross street ahead. He saw traffic there and thought he could find some way to get a cab. As he reached the corner, he saw a hotel across the street with a doorman out front. He slowly crossed the street and asked the doorman,

  “Can you call me a cab?”

  The doorman looked at Westing with great disfavor, and David remembered he looked like the bum he had just left. “I was in that fire down the street,” he said. “I’ve got some money, though. See,” and he held his wallet out. The doorman looked quickly at the bills, shook his head and walked into the hotel to the phone.

  Westing stood in the cold on the sidewalk until the cab finally showed up, then started to get in until the cabby shouted,

  “No. No. Give me money. Not in. Give money first.” David handed the man three twenties, and the cabby finally said,

  “Okay. In now.” When he told the cabby the address, the man thought for a while, then said, “No. No. More money first.”

  David almost cleaned out his wallet before the cabby was satisfied he had enough, then settled back against the torn and dirty seat
as the cab shot down the street.

  When he got home, he saw that Julie hadn’t arrived yet, and wondered vaguely where she was. He told the cabby to wait, which caused him to pass over the rest of the money in his wallet, then went inside. He trudged slowly upstairs, dumped his filthy clothes on the floor of the bedroom and got into a hot shower. He dressed in clean clothes, grabbed his traveling bag and filled it haphazardly with a variety of clothes, then went down to his office. His “emergency” bag was under his desk, and he quickly looked at the money and passport stashed in it. He thought he remembered it was about three hundred thousand dollars, so closed the bag and walked out the house to the cab.

  “To the airport,” he said.

  “No, no. More money first. Give me money.”

  David peeled several hundred-dollar bills from the bag and tossed them over the seat at the cabby. “Go. Now. Airport,” he said, not realizing he was starting to speak like the cabby. Once again, the cab rocketed off and David sat back and tried to focus—on anything. He finally just closed his eyes and held on.