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Authors: Richard Paul Evans

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BOOK: Storm of Lightning
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Mr. Ridley turned to me. “When Taylor was four, she fell into the water at Boise Creek Falls. I dove in and saved her.”

“You've always been there for me,” Taylor said. “Please, don't let me down now. I need your help to save Mom.”

He looked at her for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. Everything's been so crazy lately, I don't know what to believe.” He breathed out slowly. “But who should I believe over my daughter?”

I looked at Taylor. “Is he telling the truth?”

She looked at me. “Yes.”

“What do I need to do?” Mr. Ridley asked.

“There's a bail bondsman on Cole Street,” Gervaso said.

“Hot Dawg Bail Bonds,” Mr. Ridley said.

“That's the one. Go there first thing in the morning and talk to Troy. He already has all your paperwork complete. He'll help you post bail. I'm sure you're familiar with the procedure.”

“Of course.”

“You'll have to go out the back and take our car.”

“Why?”

“Because you're being watched.”

Mr. Ridley looked surprised. “By whom?”

“By your own police,” Gervaso said. “There are undercover police on both ends of the street. I'm surprised you didn't notice them.”

Mr. Ridley looked upset. “So am I.”

“One of them had an Elgen manual,” Gervaso said. “They might be part of the system.”

“That's not possible.”

“Trust me, everything's possible. And nothing's what it seems to be.”

“Including my daughter,” Mr. Ridley said.

“Officer Ridley,” Gervaso said, “timing is critical. You must be at the bail bond office by six forty-five. Troy will be opening early for you. Then come back to the house. At eight forty-five you'll take your car to the jail and wait for your wife to be released at nine o'clock. Everything will need to happen quickly. The moment you post bail, the Elgen will know. They'll be waiting for you when your wife steps out of the jail. You'll both be in danger. That's where we step in. Tomorrow morning I'll tell you the rest of the plan.”

Mr. Ridley looked at us solemnly. “Whatever you say.” He put his arm around Taylor and pulled her close. “Whatever it takes to protect my family.”

“You can count on us to do the same,” Gervaso said. “Now, I'm sure you'd like to spend some time with your daughter, so we'll leave you alone. We have some things to do to prepare for tomorrow.” He turned to Ian and me. “Let's go. I need your help getting some things out of the car.”

As we started to go, Mr. Ridley said, “Just a moment.”

We all turned back.

“Thank you for bringing my daughter back. Especially you, Michael.”

“It was my pleasure,” I said.

“Good night,” Gervaso said. “And don't stay up too late. You're going to need your rest.”

The next morning, 9:17 a.m.

C
hief Davis was sitting next to his wife at his kitchen table, drinking a coffee and reading the morning paper, when his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number but answered anyway.

“Davis here.”

“We seem to have a problem, Chief,” a voice said.

“Who is this?”

“This is Captain Marsden.”

Davis was shocked. “Captain. It's an honor.”

“No, it's a problem. It would seem that Officer Ridley has decided to post bail.”

The news caught Davis off guard. “What? But he said . . .”

“I don't care what he said, Chief. He intends to post bail.”

“That's no problem. It will take him at least an hour to do the paperwork and get to the jail. We'll arrest him on the way.”

“He's already at the jail,” Marsden said. “In fact, he's about to leave with his wife.”

“That's not possible,” Davis said.

“It's reality, Chief. Either you take care of this or we will.”

“I'm on it,” Davis said. “We'll initiate backup plan two. We have two men on Ridley's street, and we'll arrest Ridley the minute he pulls out of the jail.”

“I suggest you hurry, Chief. Because, by my calculations, that's in about twelve minutes.”

“I'll be right there. And don't worry. She's going to be wearing a GPS ankle bracelet, so they can't elude us, even if they try.” He hung up, then set down his coffee. “I've got to run,” he said to his wife.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing I can't fix,” he said.

*  *  *

Davis sped to the jail. As he pulled into the jail's parking lot, he saw Ridley's car parked up against the north retaining wall. He pulled his car into the lot opposite Ridley's, about forty yards from the jail's front door. As he put his car into park, his phone rang.

“Davis.”

“Glad you could make it,” Marsden said.

“Where are you?” Davis asked.

“That's not important. The paperwork is done. Ridley's wife has been released into his custody. She's changing her clothes. They're about to come out.”

“We're ready,” Davis said. “His home has been taken care of. I've got two officers on their way now. We'll arrest him as he pulls out.”

“I'll be watching,” Marsden said. “If you miss him, we'll blow up his car.”

“Don't do that,” Davis said. “You can't imagine the bureaucratic mess that will be.”

“Then don't screw this up.”

“Wait, I think that's them. Hold on.” The jail door opened, and Officer Ridley stepped out with his wife. Charles quickly glanced around, then walked toward his car.

“That's him,” Davis said, slightly slumping down in his seat.

“We have eyes on him too,” Marsden said.

When Officer Ridley reached his car, he and his wife hugged and kissed. He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in; then he walked around to the other side of the vehicle.

Just then a white police van drove up behind the car and stopped, temporarily blocking Ridley's car from view.

“I've lost visual,” Marsden said.

“Doesn't matter,” Davis said. “He can't pull out with that van behind him.”

As the van pulled ahead, Ridley's reverse lights illuminated; then the car started to back out of the parking place.

“Okay, I'm on him,” Davis said.

That's when the car exploded.

Almost every car alarm in the parking lot sounded off as the fire raged white-hot.

“What did you do?” Davis shouted at Marsden. “I said to give me a chance to arrest him.”

“We didn't do that,” Marsden said.

“Well, we sure didn't,” Davis said. “If you didn't do it, who did?”

“Perhaps the resistance wanted them silenced.”

“I thought you said the resistance was destroyed.”

“Not everyone. Not the Electroclan.”

“They're the parents of one of the Electroclan. The Electroclan aren't going to kill their own parents. Holy crap, how much explosive did they use?”

C
harles held his wife tightly as Gervaso pulled the police van out of the jail's parking lot. She was crying, and all he could say was, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

I had already deactivated the ankle tracking bracelet she wore with a massive pulse that shorted out the device.

“Mom,” Taylor said.

Mrs. Ridley turned back. “Taylor!”

They hugged over the seat. “You made it back. I was so worried,” Mrs. Ridley said.

“We're together again. That's what matters.”

“With a little luck we'll keep it that way,” Gervaso said. “What's going on back there, Ian?”

Ian grinned. “Shock and awe, baby. Shock and awe. The Elgen are sitting in their cars on the east side of the building. The chief just got out of his car to survey the damage, but it's way too hot for him to get close.”

“What happens when they don't find a body?” Mr. Ridley asked.

“They won't expect to find a body,” Gervaso said. “We filled the car with two hundred pounds of rust thermite. It burns at four thousand degrees. That's hot enough to melt the asphalt beneath it. By the time it stops burning, the car will be nothing but a puddle of molten metal. Everything else will be ashes.” He glanced at Mrs. Ridley in the rearview mirror. “It's good to see you again, Julie.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Ridley said, still cuddled up in her husband's arms. “I didn't think you'd be able to save me—with all the police and all. . . .”

“Mom, you should have seen the Starxource plant in Taiwan. The jail's security was like a day care compared to that.”

Mrs. Ridley laughed. “I'm just glad you made it back.”

“Where are we going now?” Mr. Ridley asked.

“We're ditching the van,” Gervaso said. “It was caught on video surveillance. They may suspect it of being involved with the explosion and start looking for it.”

“Where do we do that?”

“Where we left the car this morning,” he said. “It's at a warehouse in Nampa. We'll exchange cars, then head south to our ranch. The sooner we get out of Idaho, the better. The Elgen are cautious. They won't just automatically assume you were killed. If they don't find your bodies, they'll keep looking.”

*  *  *

There had been an accident on the freeway, so the drive to Nampa took about ten tense minutes longer than it should have. As we drove, Gervaso scanned the radio until he found a news station reporting the explosion. A spokesman for the Ada County Jail stated that they believed the explosion had been perpetrated by a local gang who had threatened retaliation after one of their gang members had been arrested last month.

“We're doing everything in our power to bring the guilty parties to justice,” the spokesman said.

A reporter asked, “Was anyone hurt in the explosion?”

The spokesman hesitated. “We have no comment on that just yet.”

*  *  *

When we reached Nampa, Gervaso dialed a number on his cell phone, then spoke just two words, “We're here.” We then drove slowly along a quarter-mile section of warehouses, mostly protected behind tall chain-link fences with razor wire on top. At one of the entrances a Hispanic man wearing a navy-blue mechanic's jumpsuit pushed open a gate as we approached.

BOOK: Storm of Lightning
10.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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