He was just about to press the button on his earpiece when a call came in. He smiled when the robo-voice announced Sarah’s number.
“Hello there,” he said.
“Is it me, or did the weather gods just put the pedal to the metal?”
“Tell me about it. I’m in the first unit right now and I can barely see through the windshield.”
“Is someone injured?”
“Mrs. Hart fell in her bedroom and sustained a contusion. I think she’ll be okay, but I’m taking her to the ER for some tests just in case.”
“Good idea.”
“I brought Toby along, too,” he said.
“Aw, you’re so sweet. What a combination — sweet, funny, smart, good-looking—”
He chuckled. “Stop, you’ll make me blush. Besides, I could say all the same things about you.”
“Maybe later.”
“Under the covers?”
“It’s a date,” she said.
“Good. So what’s the deal with the storm? Are they saying anything about it on the news?”
“The weather geniuses are stumped.”
“Big surprise.”
“And I’m starting to get more calls.” Sarah said. “Trees down, flash floods, property damage.”
“I’ll bet.”
“You’ll be getting more, too.”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
Another thunderclap boomed through the sky to follow a neon stutter that briefly turned the dark back to day.
“My God,” Sarah said in a sharp whisper. Emilio knew she was becoming really frightened. But now that he was speaking with her, his own reserves of courage had been replenished, and he was ready to return the favor.
“Okay, take it easy,” he said. “It’s a big storm, but it’s still just a storm.”
“I know.”
He wanted nothing more than to hold her tight against him at this moment. “And I’m here, and I love you.”
She sniffed out a laugh, and that made him smile.
“I love you, too.”
“Then, hey, baby — how bad can things really be?”
8
“Marla — Ms. Hollis—please,” Corwin said as they returned to his office.
“You’re wasting your time, Mr. Corwin,” Marla said, her face a stony mask of corralled anger. “Save your strength. You’re going to need it.”
“I’m asking you to be fair here.”
Her eyebrows rose in astonishment. “Fair? You can’t be serious. How fair have you been today? You promised to be honest. You promised to be candid. You promised to be forthcoming. But I know you left things out.”
She snatched her bag and raincoat from the guest chair without responding.
“You need to understand my position in all of this,” he went on. “I truly believe that nuclear power is the best form of energy we’ve got, and that’s what really matters here. When you consider all the facts, all the statistics, I don’t know how you can view it any other way.”
Marla pushed past him, picking up the sweaty scent of his fear — which was gratifying in its own way — and started down the hall toward reception.
“Maybe when I’m finished with my articles, I’ll write a book,” she said. “Maybe two or three.”
Trailing close, Corwin said, “Ms. Hollis, please. Perhaps we can reach an agreement.”
She slammed on the brakes and whirled around. She was smiling now.
“An agreement? You mean like a bribe? Is that what you’re suggesting?” She shook her head. “The rich never cease to amaze me. Pal, there isn’t enough money in the world to buy my silence on all the things I know — things that you’ve conveniently left out of our conversation today.”
“Like what?” he asked with puzzlement that was far from convincing.
She held up one hand with the thumb sticking out; the universal signal that a list was about to be recited.
“You’ve been written up four times for electrical malfunctions caused by faulty control-room indicators, five times for coupling failures in the service-water system, seven times for drug- and alcohol-related problems among your employees, and eleven times for spent-fuel disposal violations, in the last month alone.”
She dropped her hand and continued to rattle off a number of other violations. Corwin’s face took on a sickly pallor.
“How can you possibly know all that?” he asked, clearly stunned.
She turned away again, this time with a perceptible finality. The discussion was over.
“You have a leak, Mr. Corwin,” she stated triumphantly, entering the lobby where they’d first met. Corwin scurried after her like a nervous child. Marla laughed and added, “Ironic, isn’t it? A leak at a nuclear plant?”
The attractive young receptionist stood up when she heard this, looking worriedly at her boss for clarification.
“And this one will be a thousand times more radioactive than Chernobyl,” Marla went on, “particularly in terms of what it’ll do to your reputation. You can kiss that new facility good-bye, that much I can promise.”
Nearing the glass doors, Marla noticed that the storm was well underway. She paused and dug through her lumpy, heavily loaded shoulder bag until she found a compact umbrella. The rain was driving so hard there was no visibility beyond the sidewalk.
A clap of thunder exploded with such force that all three of them — Marla, Corwin, and the receptionist — jumped. Lightning stuttered all around, one jagged line mutedly visible through the downpour.
“Ms. Hollis, you shouldn’t go out there until the storm subsides,” Corwin said.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied, a touch of fear in her voice. She felt for the digital recorder, which was still in her pocket, and deftly transferred it to her bag by trapping it in the palm of her hand.
“At least let me get you a bigger umbrella. I have one in my office. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I’m fine.”
Corwin’s head drooped, like a robot whose battery just died.
Marla fired her parting shot. “I’m convinced that you and your father are both rabidly profit-driven without the slightest concern for the danger to the wider community. Do you think I’m unaware that both you and he live more than twenty miles from this facility? Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that’s not by design? I can’t help but wonder what your attitude toward this plant would be if you lived just over the rise out there.” She pulled the hood of her jacket violently over her head and knotted the drawstring tight below her chin. “But I’m going to stop you. By God, if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to—”
Another bolt of lightning struck, this time so close that it caused the ground to shake.
“My God,” Corwin gasped. The receptionist, steadying herself on the desk, turned pale.
The sound of the blast faded, and for a moment all was quiet. Then a fresh rumble came to life, faint at first but rising rapidly. The floor began trembling again.
Corwin looked over his shoulder toward the heart of the plant, his eyes bulging.
“Oh, no…” he said unsteadily. “NO…!”
9
Leaning forward at her desk, Sarah was trying desperately to fend off the monster headache that was beginning to form. Her thumbs were planted under her cheekbones, the rest of the fingers massaging her forehead in little circles. On the blotter in front of her stood the cordless phone, with its speaker on.
“It’s totally impassable?” she asked.
“Yes, completely blocked.” The voice belonged to Clara Minton, an old friend of Sarah’s father, who sounded like she’d spent too much time with a cigarette hanging from her mouth. “No one’s gettin’ through here unless they’re drivin’ a tank or something.”