Read Blinding Fear Online

Authors: Bruce Roland

Blinding Fear (31 page)

After nearly a minute he said quietly, “It’s pretty obvious things are spinning out of control worldwide. I’m reconsidering our plans to fly to Texas right away. There’s a side trip I think we need to make first. Excuse me for a moment.”

Kay walked to the rear of the cabin, pulled out the satellite phone and made a call. He talked quietly for nearly fifteen minutes. He disconnected and made two more calls then went to speak to Herc in the cockpit. Finally, he returned to Claire.

“All set. I had to let my wife and executive team know where I’m going and what the big-picture plans are.”

Chapter 44

“So let me get this straight, Kay,” Herc said from his pilot’s seat as the Gulfstream cruised through the early afternoon sky high above southern Oklahoma. “You built a secret underground bunker for millionaires—near Roswell, New Mexico of all places—and you never told me about it!?”

“I’m sorry, Herc. That’s part of what I was selling—absolute secrecy. And, by the way, there are more than one.”

“So just how many are there?” Claire asked.

“There are one each in the southwestern and Rocky Mountain states. Seven all together.”

“How much did they cost to build?” Herc added.

“Approximately 10 million, depending on how isolated they were from larger cities. Those that were cost more because of increased transportation costs and housing for construction crews.”

“Can you tell me a little about their construction and what buyers had to shell out,” Herc asked.

“Sure. We dug a giant hole in the ground and essentially built a round, ten-story apartment building in it. Each floor can be divided into at most four separate, piece-of-pie shaped units or one full-pie size. A quarter-floor unit costs $400,000 and is about 1,500 square feet. The full-floor is $1,500,000 and a little over 6,000 square feet. Each owner is charged what is in essence a Home Owners Association fee—$500 a month for the smallest, and up from there. We have on-site, full-time, two-person maintenance and security personnel at each location. They’re jack-of-all-trades. We provide all the electricity using a small nuclear generator that’s in its own bunker 50 feet below the lowest housing unit. It’s similar in size to those used on nuclear submarines but more computerized. We dug 500,000-gallon cisterns nearby to provide water. They’re constantly refilled by deep, on-site wells. We also built simple, single-runway landing strips long enough for all but the largest private jets. Individual owners provide their own food and personal supplies. Some have enough stores to last them for years. Naturally, we supply a septic system for each site.”

“And they’re all sold out?” Herc wondered.

“They were from the day we broke ground. Most of the buyers are very wealthy, sometimes powerful individuals, who have been deeply concerned for our country’s safety and security for years, if not decades. They see our bunkers as a means to ensure theirs and their family’s futures. My guess is the owners are headed to their units as we speak, if not already there. I’ve got to admit Kyung-Hee and I aren’t any different.”

“So one of those calls you made a few minutes ago was to your wife and we’re going to meet her at the New Mexico site?” Claire asked.

“Yes. I’m having one of our pilots fly her there in one of our smaller aircraft. They should be in the air shortly. Given the levels of frenzied, widespread violence, I thought it would be best to keep her as safe as I can in our personal unit there.” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “So, here’s my short-term plan and how it affects you two. As quickly as possible, I’m going to put our aircraft and heavy equipment into mothballs. We’ll close up and secure every building and shut down the various mechanical systems. I calculate it might take us a week. Once we’ve got all that accomplished we’ll give every employee ample opportunity to decide what they want to do and when. Kyung and I would then like you two to join us in New Mexico. It’s by far the safest place we can be if the asteroid does hit.”

“Thanks so much, Kay!” Claire replied. “Given I’ve got no place to go but my apartment in New York, how could I say no! Quite honestly, I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

Kay looked at Herc who was thinking. “What about you?” he asked.

“Almost from the beginning of this nightmare I thought I’d head to my house in Nevada when the asteroid got close. Now I can’t imagine being separated from you two. You’ve become like family.” He looked at Claire and smiled. “Perhaps even more.”

Claire smiled in return, then soberly realized that regardless of her strong feelings for Herc, whatever relationship they might have in the future was probably going to be a short one.

An hour later, as he prepared to land, Herc banked the 150 at low speed over the airstrip near the bunker so they could survey the surrounding area. It had occurred to them that even though Kay had tried to keep the construction of the bunkers secret, there could still be local residents who might try to force their way in.

“You were right, Kay,” Claire said as she looked out one of the cockpit windows. “It looks like the owners—or at least many of them—are already here. You can see all the other private jets and prop planes lined up near the runway. There must be at least ten of them. Lots of other cars, limos, and a whole bunch of pickups as well. Looks like a quite a crowd of people gathered near the aircraft tarmac. There’s another much bigger one near the fence.”

Kay looked out his window with a frown. “There are way too many cars and people, actually. I don’t like it. Herc, let’s be careful when we land. Don’t park near the other aircraft. Just turn us around once you get to the end of the runway and leave it there in case we have to takeoff in a hurry. Have we got enough fuel to get us back to the spaceport?”

“Yeah. No problem.”

“I’ll get the Micro-Uzi.”

“Good idea.”

Kay walked to the safe where he kept cash and other valuables, opened it and pulled out one of the smallest and deadliest fully-automatic weapons in the world. It was not much larger than a standard semi-auto pistol. He slipped the gun into one of the large pockets in his winter coat then sat down next to Claire who had returned to her seat for landing. She looked at him with alarm.

“I hope that won’t be necessary!”

“I, as well. But you saw what’s going down everywhere. People are scared to death. When they are they’ll do just about anything.”

Herc swung the Gulfstream in a wide, gentle turn, lined it up on the single concrete runway and eased down to a smooth landing. He quickly taxied to the end, turned around to line up for a quick exit if necessary, then shut down the engines.

“I’ll keep all the electronic systems powered-up until we check out what’s going on. It’ll save us a few minutes if we have to make a quick getaway. If things work out okay, I’ll come back later and shut them down.”

A minute later, after putting on their coats to protect against a biting wind, they stepped down the Gulfstream’s retractable stairs. They cautiously headed toward a sizable group of people congregated near a pair of the larger corporate jets. As they approached, a smaller cluster of at least a dozen, men, women and children, who Claire could see had been in some sort of heated conversation, turned and saw them approach. That group immediately headed in their direction. As the two groups neared each other, a tall, older man moved out in front of the others and called out sharply, “Aren’t you Kayode Seok?”

“Yes, sir. And you are.....?” Kay responded cautiously.

“I’m Elliot Stanford. I bought a full floor of your underground shelter for my family. This is my wife, Gwen, and our four children and their kids.” He gestured toward his extended family, all of whom had expressions of confusion, fear or anger. “Given the crisis the country is facing, I flew them here earlier today. Imagine my shock when we got off our plane only to discover hundreds of people already here—none of whom have purchased a unit—all demanding to go in with us! Naturally, I wasn’t going to open the security fence with them standing there! You promised us absolute secrecy and security! And by the way, there are at least a dozen other customers of yours here who feel the same way! What are you going to do about this?!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stanford. Let’s head over to those folks and see what they have to say.”

The two groups walked toward the throng that was clustered on the outside of a heavy, electronically controlled gate set in a tall chainlink fence—topped with razor wire—that encircled the property. Claire saw the locals they were approaching had to number more than a hundred. Most of the men wore cowboy hats and boots; many of the women as well. As they got closer it became perfectly clear they were in no mood to discuss anything other than being allowed into the bunker.

Before they had gone more than a few yards Kay stopped, turned to Claire and whispered to her. “You’d better go back to the Gulfstream. It’s likely some of these people might recognize you from news accounts. There’s no telling how they’ll react.”

She nodded, recognizing the wisdom of Kay’s point. She turned and walked briskly back to the 150, climbed in, pulled up the stairs, closed the door and took a seat. With trepidation she watched as Herc, Kay and the other shelter owners slowly approached those hoping to get in. For a few minutes things seemed to be going well. She could see Kay calmly talking, occasionally gesturing and pointing toward the owners and what Claire guessed was the gatehouse to the bunker. One of the locals, a shorter, heavyset man seemed to be doing the speaking for his group. As discussions progressed it was clear he was losing his cool. He kept jabbing a meaty finger at Kay, Herc and the other owners. A minute or so later he “squared up” on Kay and balled his fists. Herc immediately moved between them with his hands raised trying to defuse the heated discussion. Another local man stepped in and within a minute he and Herc were arguing. Suddenly, a younger man from the owners group stepped up, pushed Herc aside and got within inches of the second local man’s face. He in turn shoved the younger owner and then all-out pandemonium ensued. All Claire could see were dozens of men—and some women and older children from both sides—wrestling with and flailing away at each other. Kay and Herc disappeared in the melee. For a fleeting second she considered going out to help but quickly realized the folly of the idea. She prayed Kay would not attempt to use or even take the Uzi out of his pocket.

Then, one of the locals did exactly what she feared. He pulled out a large revolver. Thankfully he only fired it toward the heavily overcast sky. She could easily hear the sharp report in the plane. It seemed to achieve its intended effect. Within a few seconds the brawl stopped. Gratefully, she saw Kay and Herc emerge. They appeared to be unhurt although their clothes were torn and otherwise disheveled. The man with the gun waved it angrily at the owners, then at their planes and cars. It was clear he was ordering them to leave. He walked up to Kay and pointed the gun at his face. There was no question he was demanding Kay do something.

Claire held her breath.

Kay reached into his pocket and pulled out.......a small notebook. He scribbled something on it with a pen, tore out one of the pages, then abruptly handed it over. The man then waved the gun toward their Gulfstream and screamed loud enough for Claire to hear—even through the plane’s insulated walls. “Now get the hell out of here!!”

Kay and Herc slowly backed away from the angry locals, then turned and jogged toward the plane. Claire quickly opened the door for them and they piled in. She could see they were angry and frustrated beyond words.

“Let’s go!” Kay barked. He took the Uzi out his pocket, looked at it for a moment, shook his head, then set it on a passenger seat.

As Herc and Kay took their seats in the cockpit, Claire looked out the window to see what was happening. The other owners were also making their way to planes and other vehicles. Sporadically one of them would turn and shout something back toward the locals who would scream something in return. She looked toward the main gate to the shelter’s grounds. Several men were staring at the paper Kay had given them and were fiddling with the locking mechanism. She suddenly knew Kay had given them the access security codes. Within a few moments the entire crowd of locals was streaming through the gate toward the small building that Claire assumed was the portal into the bunker.

Suddenly, she heard the engines begin to whine and a few moments later the Gulfstream began to roll. Twenty seconds after that they were airborne. She looked back one more time at the underground shelter area and could see the other aircraft beginning to taxi into position for their takeoffs. She could also see the crowd of locals enter the building that would take them down into what they thought was safety and security.

Ten minutes later as they reached cruising altitude, she unbuckled and walked up to the cockpit. She got there in time to hear Kay talking on the radio.

“KS-421, KS-150, over..............yes, Don. It’s Kay. Turn around and head for home.........Yes, I’m sorry.........It can’t be helped........Things got way out of hand in Roswell......I can’t explain now.......Yes......Apologize to Kyung for me. Tell her I love her and I’ll see her at home......Thanks, Don. Appreciate it......KS-150 clear.”

Kay turned slightly to see Claire standing between the seats. “I had to turn Kyung’s plane around.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” She hesitated for a moment then continued. “What happened back there guys?”

Herc and Kay looked at each other, then Kay responded. “The heavyset guy I was talking to first was my general contractor when we built the shelter. He lives in Roswell. Apparently, when he heard about the asteroid, he told his family and friends about the shelter, who told their families and friends, and so on. I’m surprised we didn’t have half the town show up all wanting in!” He shook is head in disgust. “When we built the place I had him and all his sub-contractors sign non-disclosure agreements. The terms allowed me to collect from him—and anybody else—up to $300,000 in damages if they revealed the shelter’s existence. Guess I didn’t factor in what happens to people when they’re staring at the end of the world!”

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