Global Tilt Page 3
“He has underground bunkers. Not just him, but many of the elite. They will have the planet to themselves.”
“That’s a very admirable goal. And you work for this Gigante, do you? Wonderful. And how are you planning to survive?”
“After this, I am to meet, Gigante and fly out of the country before the detonations.”
“Meet him where?”
“The Sea View Restaurant.”
Chuck nodded. “You’re bad news, Wan Lee.”
Chuck glanced toward the main entrance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fast movement.
Wan Lee reached for a small pistol in his ankle holster. The lights flickered thanks to Shi. Chuck escaped into a doorway. Wan Lee fired at the light of the open door and just missed Chuck. Chuck sprinted across the tiger cage and exited out the second door. Wan Lee followed him through the doorway, firing just as Chuck fled out the second door of the glass-walled cage, locking the door from the outside with a huge dead-bolt. Shi closed the entrance door after Wan Lee entered. Now Lee was locked in with the white tiger.
“Throw down your gun,” Chuck ordered.
“Over my dead body,” Wan Lee yelled and started shooting at the door lock. When he stopped to reload, Chuck heard a scream. He turned away.
Shi ran over to him, holding her hand up to block her vision to the left side so that she couldn’t see inside the glass. “Let’s get out of here now!”
“Slowly, if he’s part of a team, there could be more outside.”
Chuck stood by the door for a minute watching for any signs of immediate trouble, but his mind was on other things as well.
Chuck had heard of Gigante “The Chin” Lynch, a legend of the criminal underworld. His daddy was called the crack king and worth millions of dollars. According to legend, Gigante went to work for his dad at a young age, logging his first kills at age sixteen—nineteen of them as he craned a cargo container full of Vietnamese refugees over the side of his freighter and dropped them into the sea. This became his pattern. It was said he’d raked in a fortune in passage fees for refugees, but half the time he dumped them to save time and fuel costs. He was a truly pathetic human being. The rumors about his ritualistic ceremonies were disgusting and heartbreaking. There were stories of the lavish lifestyle that he lived. He was also known as a philanthropist for charities working against overpopulation.
Chuck glanced at his waterproof wristwatch and his heart froze. The twenty nukes were supposed to be detonated in two hours.
CHAPTER 7
As Chuck and Shi walked away from the casino, Chuck kept an eye out for other killers. It appeared that Wan Lee was working alone. Regardless, Wan Lee had played his cards and lost. Now Chuck just wanted to get away from there. He had to do something and fast. The clock was ticking till Macau was wiped off the map and the world plunged into nuclear winter.
Macau seemed different now after the mauling of Wan Lee. As Chuck and Shi walked past the stunning skyscrapers, Chuck took in his surroundings. The buildings were multi-billion dollar structures. To think of the money that flowed through this area staggered his imagination. The gaming district was an amazing spectacle. It was a modern wonder, but all Chuck could think of was bright eyes of the massive white tiger and Wan Lee refusing to drop his gun.
Chuck recalled what Wan Lee had said about the elite class that would be protected from the disaster because they had bunkers around the world. The mass death across the planet that Wan Lee spoke of would supposedly not affect them. Chuck wondered if the local casino owners were among the prepared? He could only imagine what would become of their spectacular casinos in two hours when the twenty nukes detonated…
They walked a few blocks away from the casinos. When they passed in front of a Buddhist temple, Chuck pointed at a bench and a patch of grass set back from the street with a small, newly-planted cherry tree.
Chuck looked at his watch. It was forty minutes before Wan Si was supposed to meet Gigante at the Sea View Restaurant. “Let’s sit down for a minute.”
Shi nodded and followed his lead.
Chuck tapped his fingers on his knee and looked Shi in the eye. “How did you get mixed up in this?”
Shi looked down at the ground for a minute. Then she said, “My mother died when I was a child. My father got me an appointment to the security services. I rose quickly because of his contacts—and I was a fast learner. For a time, I supported the missile program because it was for deterrence. We grew up hating America. We all did. We grew up believing that the American pigs wanted to attack North Korea and spread their immoral, gluttonous values. But when I saw the missiles being shipped to the Middle East, I realized that it would lead to global nuclear war. When I told my father that I must risk my own life to stop this, he became very upset. He cautioned me to keep my mouth shut and do my job. He filled me with fear of consequences. Then, because of my position in the security services, I learned that a shipment of missiles had been hijacked and lost at sea. I knew that I could not keep quiet any more.
“My father and I escaped into China, but a man there tried to blackmail us. He threatened to turn us in to the authorities unless we paid him off. My father resisted and paid with his life. I made it to the US embassy. They moved me to a safe house, and the next day Lawrence Robertson arrived. After I told him everything I knew, he flew me to Macau and told me to contact you. He said they had you under surveillance and could put me on your tail.”
Chuck frowned.
“My whole life I have lived in fear,” Shi continued. “I feared the police, my teachers, and even my neighbors—all for good reason. It was only when I put my life on the line for others, only when I gave up my own life that I found it. I am not afraid to die now because I will be with my parents in the forbidden country. A heavenly flame burns in me now. I fear nothing. At night, I cry for my mother and father, but in the day, I live in the light as if I am walking on clouds.”
Chuck nodded. “Soon, if we’re not careful, we’ll all be walking on clouds. Look, thanks for telling me your story. As you know, time is in short supply. We need to split up. Meet me in an hour at the Dom Pedro V Theatre.” It was not the opera house, and he hadn’t been here before. It was a place he’d seen on a tourist map.
“What? Where are you going? You just said time is running out fast.”
“I know it is. Don’t be late.”
Chuck jogged down to a line of petty cabs on the sidewalk—three-wheeled bicycles with a rear carriage seat for two passengers. To a lean-faced driver Chuck said, “Take me to the cemetery.”
The rider looked surprised, but nodded. Chuck got into the seat, and the petty cab driver peddled. He was immediately caught in traffic.
“Go on the sidewalk. Hurry,” Chuck said.
It was a small cemetery, but it was one of the few places in Macau with grass and trees. Chuck found a bench and prayed for a few minutes. Then he sat there for ten minutes more like he didn’t have a care in the world. He listened to the birds. He enjoyed the warm air, the scent of fresh-mowed grass, and the gentle ssshhh of tree leaves rustling in the breeze. Then he walked over to the waiting petty cab and said, “Okay, ride fast. I pay double.”
“How fast, Mister?”
“Ride like your life depends on it.”
The driver gave him a strange look then got on and peddled furiously. When they got to the Dom Pedro V Theatre, Chuck paid the cabby double then gave him another $500 in travelers checks to rent out the petty cab for the rest of the day.
Chuck saw Shi. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s time to meet Gigante.” Chuck peddled and drove big three-wheeled trike on the sidewalks.
He’d gone less than a block when a motorcycle cop stopped him. Chuck started to sweat. He glanced at his waterproof wristwatch. Fifty-five minutes till zero hour. The cop was just sitting on his bike, talking on a radio so Chuck started to get off his pettycab.
“Get back on the bike,” the cop yelled.
“Sit there and wait for me.”
Chuck got back on the petty cab. The cop then talked on his radio for five minutes. Chuck stared at the second-hand of his wristwatch and watched it move. It had never been so fascinating. He hadn’t counted on this delay. Shi applied red lipstick that matched her shirt. Chuck was impressed by this. He thought Why not look good on your last day? If he’d had a razor, he figured he would have shaved right then and there.
Finally, the cop hung up the radio, got out of the car, and approached the petty cab.
In Chinese he said, “You’re not supposed to ride on the sidewalk.”
In Chinese Chuck said, “We are late for an important meeting. I would like to pay my fine right now.” He handed over $200 in travelers checks.
“You seem to be in a hurry.”
“I’m late for an important reservation.”
“What kind of reservation is so important?”
Chuck handed over another $300 in travelers checks. “I just realized I didn’t pay the whole fine. I’m very sorry for what I did, officer.”
“Okay, sir. Have a nice ride.”
Chuck nodded and checked his watch.
Fifty minutes.
And counting.
The Sea View Palace Restaurant had been built on a very large barge. It was tied up and moored at the end of an L-shaped pier. With its green columns spaced at intervals on the exterior walkways and green tiles on the roof, it looked like a two-story Chinese palace building.
“You wait here in the petty cab,” Chuck said. “If anyone tries to hire you, say that you’re rented out for the night.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Chuck walked out on the pier and entered the restaurant. It was evidently not a popular restaurant. The door was open, but the lights were off and there was nobody there.
Chuck took the stairs up to the second level.
He saw lights in a back room. As he approached, he saw the round back and round shoulders of a huge bald man.
Gigante was finishing up a meal in a special VIP room. He was sitting around a table with his bodyguards. Nobody was keeping watch.
Chuck walked in and aimed his gun at Gigante ‘The Chin’ Lynch.
Chuck kept his gun aimed at him. “Enjoying your meal?”
The big man started to turn.
“Keep your hands on the table!”
Gigante obeyed but still turned enough to see Chuck. He was a three-hundred and fifty pound bald-headed white guy with a massive double chin that was like a shoe horse.
“Actually yes. I’m sorry to say that this is the last meal I’ll ever have here. How do you like my restaurant, Chuck?”
“Not much. A restaurant is no better than its ownership, which is pathetic.”
Gigante laughed at him. “I’ve got you covered from behind, Brandt. Drop your gun.”
Chuck looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, a gunman was standing back in the main dining area with a gun aimed at Chuck. The gunman kicked over a table and kneeled down behind the table top for cover, but he never took his gun off his Chuck.
Now two thugs at another table pulled their handguns and aimed them at Chuck.
Gigante said, “Tough luck, Brandt. I knew something was wrong when Wan Lee didn’t text me. I’ve got a surprise for you, Brandt. You have three seconds to drop your gun or die.”
Chuck frowned. He looked over at the two henchmen at the second table. He’d seen one of them before. Even from twenty feet he could see that the killer’s buttons had bugs trapped in the glass. Chuck looked back at Gigante. “Alright.” He kneeled down and set his gun on the hardwood floor and stood back up.
As two thugs walked up behind him, Chuck spun around and face smashed one thug and threw the other through a glass door, saying, “Nice buttons.” The thug, dressed in black, crashed down in a shower of shattered glass.
Three more thugs piled onto Chuck.
They beat him up, hustled him into the limo out front, and drove him to a cargo dock. There were no ships around, but two big barges were tied up to the dock.
“I suppose those are your boats,” Chuck said to Gigante. “They’re as ugly as you are.”
A fist slammed into Chuck’s kidney.
“Leave him alone,” Gigante said. “I want him in good shape for my little surprise.”
They led him down into the barge’s cargo hold. Gigante lit an old-fashioned lantern, which lit up the hold. It was not full of grain or rice. It was not that kind of cargo. Chuck was looking at ten very large missiles.
“How do you like that, Brandt? They’re nuclear bombs. I have ten in this barge ten more in the other one you saw outside? Not bad, huh? Bet you wish you could pull of a heist like this?”
“I don’t think so.”
A thug came down the steps with a coil of rope.
“Too bad.” Gigante pointed at the closest missile. “That one.”
They led Chuck to the missile and made him straddle it face-first. They threw a rope over him and wrapped it under the missile.
Gigante said, “Looks like you’re going to go out in a blaze of glory, Mr. Brandt.” He bent over and 350-pounds of him shook with laughter.
“You’re a sad person, Gigante. Don’t you care about all the people you’re going to kill?”
“That’s the whole point. But going back to your previous comment, did you call me sad? You couldn’t be more wrong. Superior would be a lot closer to the truth. Do you even know who I am?”
“Sadly, yes. I wish I’d never met you.”
Gigante pointed with a thick finger. “You know nothing! I started dead broke and made a billion dollars. Did you do that, Brandt, you pauper? I have lived a renowned life, sir. How few there are who do anything like that. But all my success has saddened me. The truth is, the more money I make, the more I resent the masses of happy people that choke the city streets and sidewalks, mobs of people that drive millions of cars and pump massive quantities of pollution into the air. I resent the stink of sewer grates as I walk on city sidewalks. I resent the trash. The noise offends me. I resent that inferior people are destroying the planet. I never forget my childhood in Borneo and the pristine nature I experienced there. But as an adult, I began to see that my mother was right. People are truly evil, so I decided to solve the problem. I am going to purify the world. The crowds—the masses of people—are a disease, a scar on the planet. I am the cure.”
The thugs wrapped the rope around Chuck again and underneath the bomb.
Gigante put his thick hands on a nuclear bomb. He turned to Chuck. “Considering all I have accomplished, is it fair that poor people should enjoy more happiness than I while they pollute the world? That is a cruel joke on a man with a billion dollars. Is it fair that people of lesser ability will live longer lives? Only by purifying the planet and living in an unspoiled paradise will I be truly happy.”
“You’ll never be happy, Gigante, not if you go through with this.”
“Shut up! Keep your mouth shut! You are nobody. You will not tell me, Gigante Lych, anything. I know who I am. I know what I will be.”
Another length of rope was pulled tight against Chuck’s back.
Chuck said, “The people deserve a chance to live out their lives, too. Everyone you meet is fighting a battle, Gigante. Have some compassion.”
He shook his head. “They are about to lose their battle. I am about to win. In many western nations, anyone who can secure a position and make an average income can live a happy, satisfied life, while someone like me, an achiever of great intelligence and sensitivity, may struggle miserably just to keep the little people down while I extend my own power. It’s become exhausting, but the masses cannot be trusted. Just look at the Russian, French, and American Revolutions. The most talented people were devoured, and the blood pool was weakened as a result. Look at a dozen other uprisings. The masses are a stirring hoard, like a deadly virus that feeds on itself and then attaches itself to other organisms and devours them as well.
”
Chuck wondered what it would be like to be vaporized. He figured he was about to find out.
“I know how the world works,” Gigante droned on endlessly. “The most lowly, yet infectious viruses extinguish the most beautiful and talented organisms. The result is anti-evolution. People today have less talent than their ancestors. Ultimately, the people, like a virus, will not only pollute the planet, but they will devolve into brutes that will destroy the talented and doom the future of the race to the lowest possible fate. You should know this as an American. Chaos is coming, and only I can stop it.”
Other than his head, Chuck could barely move. The ropes were tied off by henchmen who worked without ever looking directly at Chuck.
Gigante patted the warhead and said, “Every breath the masses take of polluted air makes the world a more unhealthy place, less-suited to sustain long-term growth. The earth cannot sustain over-population for much longer. We are already on the brink. The soils are spent. The air and water is polluted. The cities are bursting at the seams. Nuclear plants create more and more waste with not one thoughtful person alive who has any idea how to store radioactive material long term. Why? To provide power for the masses—the vile hoards who overran Leningrad; the masses that turned Delhi into a sewer; the human rats who overcrowd the streets of Bangladesh; the disgusting American middle class who feed the urban sprawl that paves over everything beautiful and replaces it with the profane and ugly. I tell you, overpopulation is a disease.”
Gigante ran his hand over the smooth steel of the warhead. “I am tired of them all. Only a great man can change the future. I will turn back the hands of time and create a new golden age where great men inhabit the earth and live in the unspoiled environment that is their birthright. Ultimately, the world will be better off because purity and splendor will return. The blood pool will be restored to what it used to be.
“And who are these great men?” Chuck said.
Gigante lifted the lantern. “They are the unseen ruling class. They have been preparing for this day for a long time. Most of them have well stocked bunkers all over the world. They are well-prepared for doomsday. They will live underground for a few years. When they emerge, the population will be ten percent of what it is now.