Don't Order Dog_ 1(178)

The logical expression of this precaution will be the use of clandestine teams to carry out the Corporate State’s more egregious initiatives. These teams, comprised most likely of top minds from both the public and private sectors as well selected military personnel, will act as the lethal claw of the Corporate State and the hidden face of inter-corporate terrorism.”





61.




Jeri closed her father’s book and laid it on the sleeping pad next to her. Her body ached from lying in the same position for what was now several hours, but she quickly put it out of mind. There was too much else to think about. She clicked off the flashlight and focused her thoughts within the darkness of her cramped metal cell. As the drone of the engine echoed steadily beneath her, the fragments of an explanation slowly began to come together.

It was all beginning to make sense.

Jeri was so engrossed in her thoughts that she barely noticed as the vehicle began to slow. A sudden bump in the road jolted her back to reality. She braced her hands against the sides of her small cell as the vehicle abruptly rolled to a stop. A moment later the sound of footsteps echoed above her, followed by the metallic click of a key entering a lock. Suddenly the ceiling above her swung open and the darkness inside her tiny cell was replaced by the blinding light of day. Jeri covered her face with her hands and squinted up at the harsh light. Through her fingers she could make out a lone figure kneeling over her, his silhouette all too familiar.

“Take my hand.”

Jeri slowly reached up and grabbed Chip’s large hand, surprised by the old man’s strength as he pulled her gently to her feet. She stepped out of the small container and stood up stiffly as her eyes darted apprehensively around at her surroundings. They were standing in the back of a large service van, the interior stripped nearly bare. On both sides, a collection of old hand tools hung from the walls. Looking down, Jeri could see that the cell she’d been locked inside was nothing more than a large tool compartment concealed within the floor. She then looked out the open back doors and gasped. The van was parked near the edge of a high bluff. Outside, a stark landscape of mountains and desert spread out before her, filled by a wide lake of placid, cerulean blue water. Looking closer, Jeri realized the lake was in fact a bay, its calm surface punctured in the center by a handful of small, desolate-looking islands.

“I apologize for the accommodations,” Chip said quietly. “We didn’t have any identification for you, so we had to improvise.” He handed her a cold bottle of water. “Here, drink that. It’ll help with the soreness.”

Jeri looked at the bottle suspiciously before twisting off the cap and taking a quick taste. She realized as the water touched her lips that she was ravenously thirsty. A gust of hot, dry wind blew into the van as she drank the bottle. “Where are we?” she asked, tossing the empty bottle onto the floor of the van.

“Mexico,” Chip replied, admiring the view below them. “That down there is Bahia de los Angeles, and that beautiful body of water is the Sea of Cortez.”

“Okay, great,” Jeri replied as she gazed out at the view. She then turned and stared at him coldly. “So is this where you’re going to kill me if I don’t give you what you want?”

Chip looked at her with a remorseful expression. “I know what happened at

the saloon seemed a little extreme, but you needed to experience it firsthand.

It’s standard procedure for everyone we bring in.”

“Bring in? Bring in?” Jeri shouted. She reached out and pushed him roughly against the side of the van. “Bring into what? Your agency?”

Chip caught himself before slamming against the wall and looked at her in surprise. “Look, I know this is all very confusing, and I’m sorry. I wish we could have done this differently, but we simply ran out of time. Let me finish explaining.”

“There’s nothing left to explain, Chip. I’ve already figured it out. Tom Coleman was right– you and your code-named team of freaks are nothing more than mercenaries. You’re the hidden face of inter-corporate terrorism hired by large companies to do their dirty work. You and your men are responsible for the deaths of innocent people… including five researchers whose only mistake was working for Petronus Energy. Am I correct so far?”

Chip nodded his head slowly. “Mostly.”

Jeri reached down into the compartment she’d been trapped in and grabbed her father’s book. “You were right, my dad was brilliant,” she continued, pointing the book at him threateningly. “He predicted thirty years ago what the world was going to become, and he was right. No wonder you didn’t want him to publish his book! You wanted it all for yourself, didn’t you? After all, you were bored. It wasn’t easy for a big-time secret agent like yourself to suddenly give up everything and go into hiding in a quiet little place like Flagstaff. And I’m sure your new career of digging up fossils wasn’t cutting it. When my father handed you a blueprint of the future, you immediately saw an opportunity to get back in the game as you put it. That, and a two-decade jump on the competition.”