"Chain Reaction" Power Failure Book I

by Andrew Draper

Back in his office a few minutes later, Temple sat behind his antique writing desk, his mind racing as he assembled the pieces necessary to put his devious plan into motion. He knew he must do whatever was necessary to get his hands on the particle manipulation project. He also realized that while he had to solve the immediate problem first; acquisition, the next step was to find a buyer, and he had just the right person in mind.

  He buzzed his secretary and issued a few instructions. Waiting expectantly while she placed the call, he began mentally spending all the money he was going to make if he could pull this off. Big house on Newport, new boat…Ferrari.

  Ever since Murphy told him about Ryan’s break-through, he knew that it would be worth billions to whoever could bring it to the open market. He also knew the oil companies would pay tens of billions to keep it off the market. He decided that fate had presented him with one of those rare, tailor-made, opportunities to play both sides of the equation.

  Simple! I’ll sell the prototype off to a foreign buyer and keep the design plans to secure the U.S. patent rights. By the time he reverse-engineers it, I’ll be so rich it won’t matter.

  A smug, self-satisfied grin appeared on his face. It was a win-win situation and Temple was a man who didn't like to lose… at anything.

  The sudden buzzing of his desk phone interrupted his thoughts and told him it was time to make his next move.

  An ornate wall clock quietly struck the hour, the Westminster chimes’ vibrant notes floating softly across the room as he picked up the phone. He touched the button to connect the call, heart now drumming a steady beat in his chest.

  “Hello, Abdule. How are you?” He said, greeting Abdule Yashidda, chairman and owner of Yashidda Oil, one of the largest exporters in the Persian Gulf.

  “Good morning Phillip, what can I do for you?” the Arab asked, obviously forgetting about the time difference. A rotund man in his early fifties, Yashidda stood just over five feet, seven inches tall and possessed both enormous wealth and a strict devotion to his Muslim faith.

  “It's more about what I can do for you,” Temple teased, enjoying the game. “I have a product that you might be interested in.”

  “Really? What is it?” the Arab asked, the overseas connection popping and hissing with static.

  “I will soon have in my possession a new generation of energy technology that’s quite revolutionary. I thought the control of such technology might be worth something to you?”

  Temple gloated silently, knowing the man feared a discovery like this more than the armies of any nation. Yashidda’s hesitation as he absorbed the revelation colorfully illustrated the depth of that fear.