by L. Allen Stovey
“Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.” Helen Keller.
A bright-white flash lit one building, expanding like a fireworks display, rapidly engulfing the entire Schofield Aircraft facility. Sean visualized protons smashing into atoms, in a chain reaction of nuclear destruction. The thought of people dying in the holocaust sent a cold chill to the depths of his soul. Shaken by the unbelievable event unfolding in front of him, he flipped open his cell phone, and dialed 911.
“The Schofield Aircraft facility, in lower Bucks County, just exploded.”
“I’ll need your name.”
Sean felt disconnected from the event, while the loss of life unfolding before his eyes unnerved him. Losing his cool scientific reserve, he hesitated before answering the simple question.
“My name is Sean Delaney. I’m with Positive Electronics.”
“How do you know that there was an explosion?”
“The whole place is going up in flames.”
“Why are you watching a factory?”
“I was on my way to an appointment at Schofield.”
“Okay?”
“They’re going to need help!”
Sean listened in horror as a voice in the background said, “Oh, my God,” followed by a roaring wind ripping the life out of the entire 911 facility. The line went dead. An automatic forwarding system transferred his call to a distant crisis office. As he repeated his report, gale-force winds buffeted their big Town Car. He calculated the forces involved in the wind, plus the weight of their car, and he decided that they might survive.
Never wrong when it came to calculations, doubt nevertheless set in, as the heavy car began to lose its footing. Fear took over, settling into a knot in his stomach.
Gripping his armrest, Sean watched Stan struggle to control the big Lincoln. He felt the powerful force of the explosion pummeling the Town Car. The roaring wind picked up the front of the car, forcing the fender against the cement barrier. Sparks flew, as metal scraped concrete at seventy miles-per-hour.
The side air bag burst open—forcing Sean’s head away from the passenger side window. Heat and smoke filled the air as nausea surged in Sean’s stomach. The car spun out, like a Daytona 500 race car twirling out of control.
Thoughts of Sean’s girlfriend, Ann, his mother, his sister, and his father raced through his head. Would he ever see them again? After what seemed like an endless passage of time, he watched as Stan managed to bring the big car under control. Breaking out in a cold sweat, he slowly closed his cell.
If Sean’s unflappable friend and business associate allowed this incident to shake his confidence, it did not show. Observing Stan brought him back to reality. His desire to change the world might put him in danger’s way, but it would not stop him. Only twenty-five, he knew what he wanted and where he was going. He would venture boldly into the world of international energy politics, where he might have already attracted the attention of the wrong kind of people.
Stan smiled at Sean and said, “My steering is messed up.”
“We’re lucky that’s all that happened.”
“My driving skill trumped rotten luck this time.”
“I knew there was a reason I let you drive.”
“Right.”
“That was a compliment.”
Ignoring his friend's attempt to be friendly, Stan said, “We have to get off the interstate.”
Sean remained silent as Stan nursed the disabled vehicle to the next exit.
“Look at that mushroom cloud, Sean.”
“We need to get out of here fast.”
“Could it be nuclear fallout?”
We can’t risk it.”
Traveling west on Bristol Road, they heard the constant popping of a helicopter. The Channel Six logo glared out, emblazoned on the chopper’s tail.
“Those menacing news choppers circle like vultures over fallen prey.”
“They’re just following standard disaster procedure, Sean.”
“I can’t believe it. I can barely recognize people’s homes in the rubble.”
“My God, so many must be dead, and even more injured.”
Uprooted trees, holding chunks of plaster and wood from what had been homes, blocked the road ahead.
“We could try to help the injured, Sean.”
“I called it in. Survivors will be better off in the hands of professional rescue squads.”
“Right.”
Watching Stan turn the car around, Sean brought up the Internet on his cell. He looked up Lincoln dealers. He entered the address of the nearest dealer into the car’s GPS unit.
While a familiar feminine voice spouted directions, Stan asked, “Where are we headed?”
“I found a Lincoln dealer in Bristol.”
“At least we’ll be headed in the right direction.”
“That would be away from the fallout.”
“Right.”
Uneasy thoughts surfaced, as Sean felt himself losing his grip on reality. Had he ever had any control, whatsoever, over the events unfolding around him? His mind wandered back to times when he had held Ann close, and he felt safe. Right now, he believed that loving her had to be the only sane thing that had ever happened to him.
He punched Ann’s number on his cell.
“Thank God that you’re okay,” Sean said, when she answered.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“There’s been a huge explosion at the Schofield plant, in southern Bucks.”
“There’s nothing like that here, Sean.”
“I’d hoped that no attacks had occurred so far north.”
“Not a chance.”
“That’s the best news of the day, Ann.”
“You haven’t called me in months, Sean. Now, suddenly, you pop up with a crazy story.”
“It’s true, Ann. You’ll see it on the news.”
“Call me tonight.”
“I will.”
Sean closed his phone, and concentrated on Stan coaxing the limping vehicle to the car dealer’s body shop.
“The place is deserted, Sean.”
“You can’t blame them for running.”
They walked to the showroom. Fortunately, the employees had left the door unlocked. Sean flung it open, and Stan leaped over the counter, grabbing a set of keys. Sean walked around the counter, found a piece of paper, and started writing.
“What’re you doing? Let’s go!”
“I’m not stealing a car.”
“Damn it, Sean, I think they’ll understand.”
Sean finished scribbling a promissory note. He punched a hole in the paper, hanging it on the hook where the keys had been.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Stan turned away from the counter, and said, “I just want to get the car and get out of here.”
“You took a red Mustang.”
“I didn’t have time to be choosey.”
“It’s just not businesslike.”
Knowing that escaping to a safer place came first, Sean had still insisted on criticizing his long-time friend. Noticing Stan’s cold stare, Sean felt a pang of regret.
Not one to apologize, Sean said, “It’s a great car.”
Watching Stan plunge into the driver’s seat, Sean took the passenger side. With no traffic on the road, Stan hit the accelerator hard. The car hugged the road like a pit bull in a dogfight. Cruising up the ramp, they hit ninety miles an hour on I-95 south. Before Sean could complain about Stan’s driving, Stan’s cell chimed, and he flipped it open. A look of total shock came over Stan’s face. He slowed down to sixty.
“I’m surely glad that you’re okay. I thought we’d lost you.”
Stan listened for a minute, and said, “Yes. I saw a mushroom-shaped cloud.”
He listened again, and replied, “Well, I’m glad to know that you’re okay.”
“I extend my deepest sympathy for all of your employees, and their families.”
He paused for a short time. “Thanks, Jack,” and closed his phone.
“Who was that?”
“Jack Decker.”
“Wasn’t he the manager of the Schofield facility?”
“Yes. He is.”
“That’s a total shock.”
“The sound of his voice surprised me, in a good way.”
“How did he avoid the big explosion?”
“He took his kids to school this morning.”
“Sometimes a good deed does go unpunished, Stan.”
“He thinks that terrorists planted a bomb.”
“They must have had inside help.”
“I’m just glad to know that he’s okay.”
Sean realized that his sense of destiny for himself, and his company, often surpassed the reality of the situation. He planned to save the world, then he would marry Ann Rutherford.
“Let’s head back to the office, Stan.”
After arriving at the Positive Electronics facility in West Philadelphia without further incident. Sean buried himself in paperwork. He signed test reports on the prototype generator designed to power automobiles. He dreamed of a world where petroleum products no longer held a stranglehold on people’s wallets. He looked up to see Stan’s head, tilted sideways, in the doorway to his office.
“I’ll get the coffee, Sean.”
“See you in five.”
With that, the head disappeared. Sean continued his work on the computer. Despite a business degree from Penn, Sean’s CEO, Stan Martin, carried himself like a jock. Stan strolled into Sean’s office with two cups of coffee.
“What really happened at Schofield, Sean?”
“We need to prove that it was a bomb, planted by terrorists.”
Sean believed in his efforts to provide the world with a clean, inexpensive source of energy. He looked forward to rapid improvement in the power supply and transportation industries, which would ignite economic improvement around the world. Sean felt that Stan’s experience as a Green Beret served the company’s overall needs, even more than his business smarts. He felt that Stan would be able to stay on top of any threats from homegrown or foreign terrorists.
“The big generator that we installed at Schofield had been operating flawlessly, Stan.”
“We need Fortune 500 customers like Schofield. High profile customers are good for business.”
“Are they still considering a complete changeover?”
“We’ll have to see how this whole thing plays out, Sean.”
“The disaster at Schofield could push them into moving their operations.”
I may still need you to talk to them.”
“I just don’t want a steady diet of business stuff.”
“Like it or not, everybody at Positive needs to get involved. We’re launching a daring enterprise.”
“Geez.”
“Sharing the burden works for me.”
“I just meant that you should handle the business end of it, and I’ll develop new products.”
Later that afternoon, Stan called Sean at the lab. Sean could see the troubled look on Stan’s face via the videophone.
“Turn on Channel Six news, they’re talking about the explosion at Schofield.”
Sean switched his computer to channel six.
The anchor announced, in a kind of rhythmic beat, “We interrupt our regular programming with a news update on the Schofield disaster. We have no confirmation from official sources, but a second-shift employee called us. He reported that the blast originated from the vicinity of a Positive Electronics’ generator.”