Its almost time.
Stop the car.
With the advantage of higher ground on the mesa where theyd stopped, the view of the facility was unobstructed. The boss adjusted the binoculars to watch.
Five, four, three, two
The boss held up a hand, demanding silence, wanting to savor this first triumph.
It started as a rumble, a sound so deep they felt the tremors through the ground, vibrating up through their feet and legs seconds before hearing the first pop. Then there was a flash of light, followed by that distinctive whoosh as the initial ignition in the plants disposal chamber sucked all the oxygen from the surrounding rooms. There was a split second of silence, the anticipation leaving them all holding their breaths. And thenboom. Boom. Boom! One by one the explosions fired off, each one larger than the last, tearing through the shiny new facility, spewing flames and steel and glass into the air. Thick black smoke coiled upward, forming dense black clouds against the deserts crystal blue sky. In a matter of seconds, there was nothing left of Gallagher Security Systemss newest production facility except mangled webs of steel and burning rubble.
The team of mercenaries watching alongside had done their job well. The boss lowered the binoculars and watched it burn, feeling the heat even at this distance.
The satisfaction was intense.
Payback had begun.
Chapter One
7 Days until Midnight, New Years Eve
Someone is trying to destroy me.
Quinn Gallagher touched the temple of his dark-framed glasses, an ingrained habit left over from his youth, when hed been a four-eyed brainiac from a rural Missouri trailer park whod learned how to defend himself and his mother from the respective bullies whod preyed on them. He was no longer poor, no longer had his beloved motherand up until the murder of his wife, Valeska, nearly three years earlier, hed believed that he no longer feared anything.
Now three employees that hed never met, but for whom he certainly felt responsible, were dead in a foreign country. And the office building that hed closed for the holidays, with paid vacations off for all but the skeleton crew of security guards receiving overtime pay, was being searched from basement to rooftop by a team of black-uniformed cops, armed like the special-ops security details his company outfitted for wealthy individuals and companies across the country. The captain of KCPDs SWAT Team 1, Michael Cutler, often served as a consultant to GSS when they were developing new weapons, protective gear and security technology.
He was also one of the few men in this world Quinn Gallagher trusted without question. He strode into the penthouse office suite with a disturbing yet unsurprising announcement. Thus far, weve found no sign of forced entry into the building or your office. Ive got my team checking the top floor here now. Of course, this place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Whoever got in had to have the same kind of talents you possess. It was a wry compliment. An enemy with Quinns technical skills would be a formidable opponent, indeed. The SWAT captain turned toward the small, unwrapped Christmas present Quinn had left on his desk. Dont let me or my men interrupt your meeting.
Come and go as you need, Michael. Thanks. Quinn adjusted the knot of his silk tie and paced the length of his office. The men and woman in suits on the matching sofas waited expectantly for some sign that he was ready for their problem-solving input. But none of them dared offer any personal condolence or sympathetic look. He paid them exceedingly well to be the best at the jobs theyd been hired to do, not to be his friends. That was a bonus he rarely bestowed on the people around him. Caring had cost him dearlywhen hed lost his mother, and three years ago when hed lost his wife.
He didnt need the distraction of emotional ties to interfere with the efficiency of this Christmas Eve meeting. And his people knew that. Keeping an eye on Michael Cutler and the furtive movements of the rest of his five-man team through the chrome-and-glass partition separating his office from the rest of the floor, Quinn turned his attention back to the executives whod been able to report on such short notice.
Louis Nolan, his vice president of operations and Quinns eyes on every aspect of Gallagher Security Systems, was speaking. Ive already been on the phone with Nikolai Titov, our primary investor there. He wants answers.
Hell know them as soon as I have them, Quinn promised.
The Kalahari plant hadnt even begun production yet, Louis continued. We were still in the hiring process with the locals. I know we were building there to save money, but now were posting a loss on GSSs bottom line and facing speculation from the press. Titovs already putting the pressure on to let him reopen and expand the St. Feodor plant in Lukinburg. The last thing we need right now are nervous stockholders. I think we should entertain his offer before this unfortunate incident turns into a catastrophe.
As Quinn suspected, his security chief, David Damiani, wasted no time pushing to his feet and confronting the older businessman. Unfortunate? I lost three good men in that explosion. Try making that phone call to their families when Christmas is tomorrow.
Im not denigrating the loss of life. Louis was a cagey old salt who had no problem defending himself. Im pointing out that this could be an environmental or political attack on GSSs expansion into South Africa. I know our base of operation here in Kansas City is thousands of miles away, but this could snowball into a real tragedy if we dont spin some control over the situation in the next few days, if not the next few hours.
David raked his hands through his hair, the movement exposing the Beretta he wore holstered beneath his left arm. Its already snowballing, Lou. How do you explain someone breaking into GSS headquarters when weve got the best damn techno-security on the planet? I cant. As far as I can see, were already under attack.
Gentlemen, Elise Brown intervened. Quinn knew his executive assistant could be counted on to keep everyone focused and moving forward. None of us are thrilled to be taken away from our families and vacations at this time of year, and certainly none of us are pleased to hear about sabotage and the murder of GSS employees, but youre missing the point. Quinn said someone was trying to destroy him, not GSS. She turned her soft brown eyes up to him. Isnt that right?
Yes. That was the painful distinction hed made. Going after his business empire was one thing. But the gift-wrapped package hed received on his desk this morning
His gaze drifted over to the shiny red paper and white tissue decorated with candy canes, of all thingshis daughters favorite holiday treat. Quinn seethed inside, momentarily experiencing that same helpless fury that had plagued him growing up, before hed learned to use his brain as a weapon to outsmart the kids whod picked on him and the men whod thought his mother didnt have anyone to protect her.
He forced his gaze away from where Michael Cutler was processing the unwanted gift with his gloved fingers. He looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, over the stone-gray parking lot, highways and wintry fields around the modern building hed erected near the Kansas City International Airport north of the city center. The isolation he felt made the glass windows, marble tiles and Oriental rugs seem especially cold and sterile today. Hed mistakenly thought hed left the users and abusers of the world far behind him in that small-town trailer park. Instead, after the destruction of his South African plant two days ago, Quinn realized that hed simply graduated to a more ruthless, more covert class of users who wanted to hurt what was his.