The Hammer of Eden by Ken Follett
For the third time, he pulled the lever.
Slowly the plate descended to the ground.
When it made contact, Priest started the machine.
*
The helicopter was a four-seater. Judy sat next to the pilot, Michael behind. As they flew south along the shore of the San Francisco Bay, Judy heard in her headphones the voice of one of Michael's student assistants, calling from the command post. "Michael! This is Paula! It's started up--a seismic vibrator!"
Judy went cold with fear. I thought I had more time! She checked her watch: it was six forty-five. Granger's deadline was still fifteen minutes away. Melanie's phone call must have made him start early.
Michael was saying: "Any tremors on the seismograph?"
"No--just the seismic vibrator, so far."
No earthquake yet. Thank God.
Judy shouted into her microphone: "Give us the location, quickly!"
"Wait a minute, the coordinates are coming up now."
Judy grabbed a map.
Hurry, hurry!
A long moment later Paula read the numbers on her screen. Judy found the location on her map. She said to the pilot: "Due south two miles, then about five hundred yards inland."
Her stomach lurched as the chopper dived and picked up speed.
They were flying over the old waterfront neighborhood, full of derelict factories and car dumps. It would have been quiet on a normal Sunday: today it was empty. Judy scanned the horizon, looking for a truck that could be the seismic vibrator.
To the south she saw two police patrol cars speeding toward the same location. Looking west, she spotted the FBI SWAT wagon approaching. Back at the Presidio, the other helicopters would be lifting off, full of armed agents. Soon half the law enforcement vehicles in Northern California would be heading for the map coordinates Paula had given out.
Michael said into his microphone: "Paula! What's happening on your screens?"
"Nothing--the vibrator is operating, but it's not having any effect."
"Thank God!" Judy said.
Michael said: "If he follows his previous pattern, he'll move the truck a quarter of a mile and try again."
The pilot said: "This is it. We've arrived at the coordinates." The helicopter began to circle.
Judy and Michael stared out, searching frantically for the seismic vibrator.
On the ground, nothing moved.
*
Priest cursed.
The vibrating machinery was operating, but there was no earthquake.
This had happened before, both times. Melanie had said she did not really understand why it worked in some locations but not others. It probably had something to do with different kinds of subsoil. Both times the vibrator had triggered an earthquake on the third try. But today Priest really needed to be lucky the first time.
He was not.
Boiling with frustration, he turned off the mechanism and raised the plate.
He had to move the truck.
He jumped out. Stepping over Melanie, who was crumpled up against the wall, bleeding onto the concrete floor, he ran to the entrance. There was a pair of old-fashioned high doors that folded back to admit big vehicles. Inset into one panel was a small, people-size door. Priest threw it open.
*
Over the entrance to a small warehouse Judy saw a sign that read "Perpetua Diaries."
She had thought Melanie was saying "Perpetual."
"That's the place!" she yelled. "Go down!"
The helicopter descended rapidly, avoiding a power line that ran from pole to pole along the side of the road, and touched down in the middle of the deserted street.
As soon as she felt the bump of contact with the ground, Judy opened the door.
*
Priest looked out.
A helicopter had landed in the road. As he watched, someone jumped out. It was a woman with a wound dressing on her face. He recognized Judy Maddox.
He screamed a curse that was lost in the noise of the chopper.
There was no time to open the big doors.
He dashed back to the truck, got in, and rammed the shift into reverse. He backed as far as he could into the warehouse, stopping when the rear bumper hit the wall. Then he engaged first gear. He revved the engine high, then let out the clutch with a jerk. The truck lurched forward.
Priest pressed the pedal to the floor. Engine screaming, the big truck gathered speed the length of the warehouse, then crashed into the old wooden door.
Judy Maddox was standing right in front of the door, gun in hand. Shock and fear showed on her face as the truck burst through the door. Priest grinned savagely as he bore down on her. She dived sideways, and the truck missed her by an inch.
The helicopter was in the middle of the road. A man was getting out. Priest recognized Michael Quercus.
He steered toward the helicopter, changed up a gear, and accelerated.
*
Judy rolled over, aimed at the driver's door, and squeezed off two shots. She thought she might have hit something, but she failed to stop the truck.
The chopper lifted quickly.
Michael ran to the side of the road.
Judy guessed that Granger was hoping to clip the helicopter's undercarriage, as he had in Felicitas, but this time the pilot was too quick for him and lifted high as the truck charged the space where the aircraft had been.
But, in his haste, the pilot forgot the roadside power lines.
There were five or six cables stretched between tall poles. The rotor blade caught in the lines, slicing through some. The helicopter's engine faltered. One of the poles tilted under the strain and fell. The rotor blade began to spin freely again, but the chopper had lost lift, and it fell to the ground with a mighty crash.
*
Priest had one hope left.
If he could drive a quarter of a mile, then get the plate down and the vibrator operating, he might yet trigger an earthquake before the FBI could get to him. And in the chaos of an earthquake, he might escape, as he had before.
He wrenched the wheel around and headed down the road.
*
Judy fired again as the truck swung away from the downed helicopter. She was hoping to hit either Granger or some essential part of the engine, but she was unlucky. The truck lumbered down the potholed road.
She looked at the crashed helicopter. The pilot was not moving. She looked back to the seismic vibrator as it gradually gathered speed.
I wish I had a rifle.
Michael ran up to her. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she said. She made a decision. "You see if you can help the pilot--I'll go after Granger."
He hesitated, then said: "Okay."
Judy holstered her pistol and ran after the truck.
It was a sluggish vehicle, taking long moments to accelerate. At first she closed the distance rapidly. Then Granger changed gear, and the truck picked up speed. Judy ran as fast as she could, heart pounding, chest aching. The tail of the truck carried a huge spare wheel. She was still gaining on it, but not so rapidly. Just when she thought she would never catch it, Granger shifted gears again, and in the momentary slowdown, Judy put on a burst of speed and leaped for the tailgate.
She got one foot on the bumper and grabbed the spare wheel. For a frightening moment she thought she would slip and fall; and she looked down to see the road speeding beneath her. But she managed to hold on. She clambered onto the flatbed among the tanks and valves of the machinery. She staggered to keep her balance, almost fell, and righted herself.
She did not know whether Granger had seen her.
He could not operate the vibrator while the truck was in motion, so she remained where she was, heart thumping, waiting for him to stop.
But he had seen her.
She heard glass shatter and saw the barrel of a gun poke through the rear window of the driver's cabin. She ducked instinctively. The next moment she heard a slug ricochet off a tank beside her. She leaned to the left so tha
But he had not.
The truck braked fiercely. Judy was thrown forward, banging her head painfully against a pipe. Then Granger swerved violently to the right. Judy swung sideways and thought for a terrifying moment that she would be hurled to her death on the hard surface of the road, but she managed to hang on. She saw that Granger was heading suicidally straight for the brick front of a disused factory. She clung to a tank.
At the last moment he braked hard and swerved, but he was a fraction of a second too late. He averted a head-on smash, but the offside fender plowed into the brickwork with a crash of crumpling metal and breaking glass. Judy felt an agonizing pain in her ribs as she was crushed against the tank she was holding. Then she was thrown into the air.
For a dizzy moment she was totally disoriented. Then she hit the ground, landing on her left side. All the breath was knocked out of her body so that she could not even yell with pain. Her head banged against the road, her left arm went numb, and panic filled her mind.
Her head cleared a second or two later. She hurt, but she could move. Her bulletproof jacket had helped to protect her. Her black corduroys were ripped and one knee was bleeding, but not badly. Her nose was bleeding, too: she had reopened the wound Granger had given her yesterday.
She had fallen near the rear corner of the truck, close to its enormous double wheels. If Granger reversed a yard, he would kill her. She rolled sideways, staying behind the truck but getting away from its giant tires. The effort sent sharp pain through her ribs, and she cursed.
The truck did not reverse. Granger was not trying to run her over. Perhaps he had not seen where she had fallen.
She looked up and down the street. She could see Michael struggling to get the pilot out of the crashed helicopter, four hundred yards away. In the other direction, there was no sign of the SWAT wagon or the police cars she had spotted from the air, or of the other FBI helicopters. They were probably seconds away--but she did not have seconds to spare.
She got to her knees and drew her weapon. She expected Granger to jump out of the cabin and shoot at her, but he did not.
She struggled painfully to her feet.
If she approached on the driver's side of the truck, he would surely see her in his side-view mirror. She went to the other side and risked a peek around the rear corner. There was a big mirror on this side, too.
She dropped to her knees, lay flat on her belly, and crawled under the truck.
She wriggled forward until she was almost beneath the driver's cab.
She heard a new noise above her and wondered what it was. Glancing up, she saw a huge steel plate above her.
It was being lowered onto her.
Frantically she rolled sideways. Her foot caught on one of the rear wheels. For a few horrendous seconds she struggled to free herself as the massive plate moved inexorably down. It would crush her leg like a plastic toy. At the last moment she pulled her foot out of her shoe and rolled clear.
She was out in the open. Granger would see her at any second. If he leaned out of the passenger door now, gun in hand, he could shoot her easily.
There was a blast like a bomb in her ears, and the ground beneath her shook violently. He had started the vibrator.
She had to stop it. She thought momentarily of Bo's house. In her mind she saw it crumble and fall, then the whole street collapse.
Pressing her left hand to her side to ease the pain, she forced herself to her feet.
Two paces took her to the nearside door. She needed to open it with her right hand, so she shifted the gun to her left--she could shoot with either--and pointed it up to the sky.
Now.
She jumped onto the step, grabbed the door handle, and flung it open.
She came face-to-face with Richard Granger.
He looked as scared as she felt.
She pointed the gun at him with her left hand. "Turn it off!" she screamed. "Turn it off!"
"Okay," he said, and he grinned and reached beneath his seat.
The grin alerted her. She knew he was not going to turn off the vibrator. She got ready to shoot him.
She had never shot anyone before.
His hand came up holding a revolver like something out of the Wild West.
As the long barrel swung toward her, she aimed her pistol at his head and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet hit him in the face, beside the nose.
He shot her a split second later. The flash and noise of the double gunshot was terrific. She felt a burning pain across her right temple.
Years of training came into play. She had been taught always to fire twice, and her muscles remembered. Automatically she pulled the trigger again. This time she hit his shoulder. Blood spurted immediately. He spun sideways and fell back against the door, dropping the gun from limp fingers.
Oh, Jesus, is that what it's like when you kill someone?
Judy felt her own blood course down her right cheek. She fought a wave of faintness and nausea. She held the gun pointed at Granger.
The machine was still vibrating.
She stared at the mass of switches and dials. She had just shot the one person who knew how to turn the thing off. Panic swept over her. She fought it down. There must be a key.
There was.
She reached over the inert body of Ricky Granger and turned it.
Suddenly there was quiet.
She glanced along the street. Outside the Perpetua Diaries warehouse, the helicopter was on fire.
Michael!
She opened the door of the truck, fighting to stay conscious. She knew there was something she ought to do, something important, before she went to help Michael, but she could not think what it was. She gave up trying to remember and climbed out of the truck.
A distant police siren came closer, and she saw a patrol car approaching. She waved it down. "FBI," she said weakly. "Take me to that chopper." She opened the door and fell into the car.
The cop drove the four hundred yards to the warehouse and pulled up a safe distance from the burning aircraft. Judy got out. She could not see anyone inside the helicopter. "Michael!" she yelled. "Where are you?"
"Over here!" He was behind the busted doors of the warehouse, bending over the pilot. Judy ran to him. "This guy needs help," Michael said. He looked at her face. "Jesus, so do you!"
"I'm all right," she said. "Help is on the way." She pulled out her cell phone and called the command post. She got Raja. He said: "Judy, what's happening?"
"You tell me, for Christ's sake!"
"The vibrator stopped."
"I know, I stopped it. Any tremors?"
"No. Nothing at all."
Judy slumped with relief. She had stopped the machine in time. There would be no earthquake.
She leaned against the wall. She felt faint. She struggled to stay upright.
She felt no triumph, no sense of victory. Perhaps that would come later, with Raja and Carl and the others, in Everton's bar. For now she was drained empty.
Another patrol car pulled up, and an officer got out. "Lieutenant Forbes," he said. "What the hell went on here? Where's the perpetrator?"
Judy pointed along the street to the seismic vibrator. "He's in the front of that truck," she said. "Dead."
"We'll take a look." The lieutenant got back in his car and tore off down the street.
Michael had disappeared. Looking for him, Judy stepped inside the warehouse.
She saw him sitting on the concrete floor in a pool of blood. But he was unhurt. In his arms he held Melanie. Her face was even paler than usual, and her skimpy T-shirt was soaked with blood from a grisly wound in her chest.
Michael's face was contorted with grief.
Judy went to him and knelt beside him. She felt for a pulse in Melanie's neck. There was none.
"I'm sorry, Michael," she said. "I'm so sorry."
He swallowed. "Poor Dusty," he said.
Judy touched his face. "It will be all right," she said.
*
A few moments later Lieutenant Forbes reappeared. "Pardon me, ma'am," he said politely. "Did you say there was a dead man in that truck?"
"Yes," she said. "I shot him."
"Well," the cop said, "he ain't there now."
22
Star was jailed for ten years.
At first, prison was torture. The regimented existence was hell for someone whose whole life had been about freedom. Then a pretty wardress called Jane fell in love with her and brought her makeup and books and marijuana, and things began to look up.
Flower was placed with foster parents, a Methodist minister and his wife. They were kindhearted people who could not begin to understand where Flower was coming from. She missed her parents, did poorly at school, and got in more trouble with the police. Then, a couple of years later, she found her grandma. Veronica Nightingale had been thirteen when she gave birth to Priest, so she was only in her mid-sixties when Flower found her. She was running a store in Los Angeles selling sex toys, lingerie, and porno videos. She had an apartment in Beverly Hills and drove a red sports car, and she told Flower stories about her daddy when he was a little boy. Flower ran away from the minister and his wife and moved in with her grandma.
Oaktree disappeared. Judy knew there had been a fourth person in the 'Cuda at Felicitas, and she had been able to piece together his role in the affair. She even got a full set of fingerprints from his woodwork shop at the commune. But no one knew where he had gone. However, his prints showed up a couple of years later, on a stolen car that had been used in an armed robbery in Seattle. The police did not suspect him, because he had a solid alibi, but Judy was automatically notified. When she reviewed the file with the U.S. attorney--her old friend Don Riley, now married to an insurance saleswoman--they realized they had only a weak case against Oaktree for his part in the Hammer of Eden, and they decided to let him be.
Milton Lestrange died of cancer. Brian Kincaid retired. Marvin Hayes resigned and became security director for a supermarket chain.
Michael Quercus became moderately famous. Because he was nice looking and good at explaining seismology, TV shows always called him first when they wanted a quote about earthquakes. His business prospered.
Judy was promoted to supervisor. She moved in with Michael and Dusty. When Michael's business started to make real money, they bought a house together and decided to have a baby. A month later she was pregnant, so they got married. Bo cried at the wedding.