Counterpoint (57 page)

The volcano went quiet again.

News reports early the next morning
sent Sam Leighton to his office immediately, and he dialled Pete
Lewis’s number. Sam got no reply! He later called the government
department who sent Pete and his team to the volcano and asked
about their situation. An aerial recognisance suggested the team
were all dead and that when the volcano had stabilised, a new team
would be sent to investigate. Probably in a week or so, but they
had a greater priority, evacuating the surrounding islands, just in
case the volcano decided to blow.

Robert Darrow called Sam. “I need to
discuss something of a highly confidential nature with you face to
face, Sam. It absolutely cannot wait.”

Sam could tell from the tense and
slight quaver in Robert’s voice that the issue was serious.

“Can you give me some idea what it is
about?”

A moment’s thoughtful pause, “I made a
mistake that could blow up out of all proportion.”

Sam stiffened, “Is this to do with an
imminent evacuation?”

“I am afraid so”

“OK, I will be with you tomorrow, ”
said Sam and ended the call.

Sam thought for a moment and made an
internal call to his secretary. “I need you to lay on an immediate
flight to Egypt; I have to see Robert Darrow. Get Max and Carla
there immediately as well, they are returning on the US1, no
expense to be spared! Thank you.”

Sam’s blood ran cold at the thought of
a connection with The Organisation, dumping waste down the throat
of an active volcano. Who would be so stupid? It couldn’t be Robert
Darrow; he is just not that sort of man. Then he reflected,
Governments do stupid things all the time. They deliberately built
early power stations, to produce plutonium for bombs, the
electricity was a by-product. History has proved there is no safe
way to handle nuclear power and its resulting waste.

Governments are people in power without
adequate knowledge. They are like children with a loaded gun, they
know it’s dangerous, yet rather than lock it away, they must play
with it. A professional with a gun will take extraordinary care to
prevent an accident, but even they sometimes shoot themselves.

Sam arrived at the C.N.W.D. and went
straight in to Robert Darrow’s office.

Without pleasantries, Sam asked in a
matter of fact tone, “Am I to understand you have been dumping
waste into the volcano at Montserrat?” The long pause told Sam he
was right.

“The Russian Mafia forced me to dispose
of hundreds of tons of their worst nuclear waste, they have my
family and will kill them if I don’t get rid of it for them,” came
back Darrow’s quavering voice.

“From what I understand, you might have
done that yourself, along with everyone else on the planet,” Sam
shouted back.

Another pause, Robert Darrow sat still,
staring vacantly ahead.

Sam heard a faint metallic clicking
coming from Roberts lap. Before Sam could move or shout, Robert put
a handgun in his open mouth and fired. The sound of the shot rang
in Sam’s ears.

“Well, you have done it this time,
Robert!” Sam said quietly to the corpse, as blood and brain matter
slid down the bullet starred glazing, behind it.

A security man rushed into the office
and stared horrified at the ghastly sight. Sam told him to stay in
the room and call the head of security immediately. When the man
arrived, Sam explained. “Robert just killed himself in front of me
and the matter must be kept quiet for the moment. Robert claimed
the Russian Mafia had been operating from the plant, did security
know about it?”

“We knew something was going on, the
waste flown in was flown out again within hours, and this has been
going on for a month now. Robert gave me strict instructions, not
to disturb them in any way.”

“Well, I want them arrested, and anyone
else who has had contact with them. You should also take
precautions in case they are contaminated, with chemical or nuclear
waste. Also, arrange for Robert’s body to be taken to the medical
facility, he can’t stay where he is in this climate. Clean up and
get the glazing fixed.”

The head of security and his
subordinate left to get the body and plant secured.

Hearing that Max had arrived at the
C.N.W.D., Sam sent for him. “We have a problem Max, and I need your
help. A friend of mine was killed in the volcanic explosion at
Montserrat. It appears someone has been dumping industrial waste
into the volcano, and it is extremely serious, that is why Robert
Darrow has committed suicide.

The various Governments don’t know
about this, and I don’t want them to find out because The
Organisation is unwittingly involved. I need you and a small team
to go to the volcano and find any evidence linking it to us. You
should be able to report back with your findings so we can get the
appropriate clean up done, before anyone else lands there. I have
arranged transport from the C.N.W.D airstrip.

I would also prefer it if you didn’t go
into details of the mission with Carla, you will not be gone long
so no need to worry her unnecessarily.”

Max thought the whole
thing rather odd. Sam was not his usual,
in control,
self and going to an
unstable volcano was not a wise life choice, also, when did Sam
ever care about Carla’s feelings?

Max got up and left for the airstrip to
meet his team.

The flight took off and later, Max and
his team parachuted into the sea, a short way from Montserrat. From
there, their small rubber dingy bucked its way through the surf to
the south shore of Montserrat, near Germans Bay. Away in the
distance, Max could see the red glow from the crater. It was
reflected back from the underside of the billowing smoke cloud,
towering into the blackness of the night sky. Frequent bursts of
lava shot high into the dark cloud like a firework display, and
then arced back to earth as fiery rain.

I’ve been to better holiday resorts,
joked Max with his second in command. The young technician was not
amused, he wondered how he would die here, burnt to death or
poisoned by fumes. None of them dared contemplate the nuclear waste
hazards.

On the way up the long climb, over
cooling pumice and ash to the remains of the low crater rim, they
stumbled across the scorched bodies of Pete Lewis and his men in
the thick layer of ash. Their contorted facial expressions and
limbs in pugilistic poses showed it had been a terrible, agonising
death. The smell of sulphur could not surmount the stench of the
burnt flesh, similar to roast beef, convincing Max and his team to
become vegans.

Even with a gentle breeze blowing smoke
and fumes away from them, the hot air and their protective clothes
made the climb unbearable, the men would have gladly abandoned the
mission, had Max faltered in his resolve.

The Organisation had made a terrible
mistake this time thought Max, but on balance, they had done more
good for humanity, than any other group in history. He did not
intend to be the one to let them down.

Max and his team reached the lower rim,
left after the explosion that killed Pete, and anxiously peered
over.

He knew then he was looking straight
into hell. The heat drove straight through his protective clothing,
and soon, even the rivulets of sweat running down his face dried
up. The breathing equipment may have filtered the poisonous fumes,
but did nothing to cool the air. His mouth was dry, and his
laboured breathing rasped his throat, how long could he continue
with this mission, he thought. Perhaps there would be no evidence
for them to find, down in the crater, more likely it would be under
the thick blanket of ash covering the island.

Then he saw it, glinting in the orange,
red glow, it was a large bent tube of scorched metal.

The weird shapes of twisted, jagged
rock and solidified lava formed an alien landscape where any form
was possible, even this impossibly long, horizontal column of rock,
stuck out of the crater wall like a giant ship's spar. At that
moment, a piece of lava, soft like hot toffee, slid off the
cylinder, revealing the metal underneath. But what the hell was
it?

There was that
word
hell
again!

Max called out to his men, I have found
something that shouldn’t be here, come and help me!

They joined him and could not decide
what it might be, with so much covering lava and poor light. The
black crater one side contrasting with blinding yellow and white
the other. What was the true shape and extent of the metal
object?

Max took several photos and sent them
by satellite phone, to Sam.

A message came back telling him to
leave at once; a team of scientists from America were on their way,
they must not find him and his team on the island.

Max thought for a moment, the whole
point of him being here was to find anything that would incriminate
The Organisation. The metal object, at least, would probably do
that, where would that leave him and Carla?

Max said to his team, “Do you think we
could get up to the rim and push some lumps of lava down, to
dislodge the metal object, so it falls deep into the magma?”

“No, we are leaving now like we have
been told,” said the others in the team.

“Ok!” Said Max. “I will do it myself
and catch you up. Don’t wait for me, I will find a way back.”

He climbed around the outside of the
rim and further up the steep crumbling slope, sweat poured off his
body with the heat from the ground and exhaustion. The occasional
explosion of molten lava dropped, sizzling around him.

He peered over the rim, a bit further
round, he thought, and then I will be directly above the object.
Now he was much nearer he could see the twisted rotor blades and
the contents inside the split open cylinder. There was an eerie
bluish glow, almost like electrical arcing inside. The nuclear
material was ionising the surrounding air, making it glow. Max had
been irradiated with a massive dose of energy and just like an
x-ray, he never felt it.

The volcano gave a massive belch of
seething hot gasses and sprays of viscous lava, tipped the object
over, so it slipped slowly into the white hot, bubbling mass.

Spumes of incandescent lava and gasses,
exploded around the object, as it sank below the surface. A small
but violent eruption started, spewing a colossal flood of glowing
yellow lava over the lower rim and onto Max’s team. There was
nothing he could do for the men. They were in the wrong place at
that time.

Max set off down a more westerly part
of the slope, as fast as he could, in the hope of getting to the
flimsy rubber dingy before the lava did.

In spite of the huge quantity of fresh
lava continuing to flow, it cooled quickly and solidified on the
way down, allowing Max to get to the dinghy, safely.

Max sank exhausted on the shore and lay
there for many minutes, trying to recover enough strength to remove
his protective clothing.

The earth tremor and deep rumbling were
getting progressively worse, he realised he was probably a dead man
resting. It was not a question of, if the volcano erupted, but
when. If the pyroclastic flow or the far-flung rocks raining down
didn’t get him, the giant tidal wave would, unless he was miles
from here in a high flying plane.

Still lying on his back, Max called Sam
on the satellite phone.

“Sam, all the team are dead and buried
under tons of lava, Pete’s team and mine will never be found. The
only evidence I could find has sunk without a trace into the magma.
I am certain the island will also disappear very shortly, but I
will head straight out to sea in the dingy. There is about 10
kilometres of range still in the outboard, so if you pick me up, I
would be obliged. If I don’t make it back, send my love to Carla
and James, tell them I have done all I could to make matters right
and get back to them.”

“I will Max; the helicopter is on its
way now. Just so you know, I have been told by experts that the
fuel rods would not melt in the magma, it is just not hot enough.
They would, probably, slowly sink to the bottom of the throat. The
combined mass of all that fissionable material, if it clusters
together, will ultimately lead to a massive chain reaction and
explosion. If the planet does survive the blast, and we are talking
about at least five per cent of the planet being vaporised, the
nuclear fallout and ash will render the planet sterile. That is not
the real problem though; the explosion deep in the earth’s mantle
will be like a rocket engine. Its short burst will propel the earth
out of orbit. Depending on the direction of the blast, it could
drive us into other planets, the sun or deep space. Better pray for
some good luck over the next 10,000 years.”

“Well, thanks for that Sam, I didn’t
think the day could get much worse, but I was wrong.” He ended the
call.

Max was surprised at his own flippancy,
he was also suddenly aware that he was feeling violently sick. As
he vomited, he also fouled himself. He was having the first
symptoms of acute radiation poisoning, euphoria from a massive
surge of serotonin, the body’s reaction to the death of fragile
cells lining the intestines, followed by vomiting and diarrhoea,
nature’s way of expelling the probable cause of their destruction.
Paranoia would be the next stage if he didn’t get treatment soon.
Eventually, over several weeks, he would suffer a painful, wasting
death as his body became ravaged with festering sores, and vital
organs, systemically failed.

As he slowly eased himself out of his
protective clothing, dumping them into the dinghy, the cold of the
night air hit his sweat soaked body. Convulsing in agony and
shivering with the intensity of a bad fit, he tried to clean
himself up in the icy water. His digestive tract had nothing more
to give, he was empty, he urged with no relief.