Huck Seavers was not normally a nervous man, but he could feel tension in his body and a prickly heat irritating the back of his neck as he sat in the Gulfstream jet’s luxurious interior and awaited his guest. The temptation to hide his rugged, wide — jawed features beneath the brim of his Fedora was almost overwhelming.
‘Are you all right sir?’
The stewardess on the flight was leaning over him, concern writ large over her perfect features.
‘Never better!’ Huck boomed, one thick hand slapping down on his jeans with a sharp crack. ‘How are you, honey?’
Huck’s broad, white smile and sparkling eyes glittered at the stewardess, who smiled as she stood up once more.
‘Fine, thank you, sir.’
The stewardess moved off, and Huck retreated once more into his sombre mood.
He did not know the man he was waiting for, not who he worked for and indeed not even what he wanted. The only thing he did know was the man’s name, Aaron Mitchell, and that his influence and power had been instrumental in allowing Seavers to further develop his plans to begin mining the mountains of Missouri for coal. Seavers Incorporated was one of the largest mountaintop mining companies in the United States with a portfolio of over $5 billion worth of operations across the Appalachian mountains in the eastern United States.
Mountaintop removal mining, also known as mountaintop mining, was a form of surface mining that involved digging the summit ridge of a mountain. Coal seams were extracted by removing some four hundred feet of overburden to expose underlying coal seams. The excess rock and soil was then dumped into nearby valleys in what were called “holler fills”. The process was less expensive to execute and required fewer employees than conventional mining, and had begun in Appalachia in the 1970s as an extension of strip mining techniques. The process had spread across Kentucky, West Virginia, Virginia, and Tennessee as conventional seams had been exhausted, and Huck’s father had been there to take advantage of the new process.
The late, great Jeb Seavers had started the company in the early 70s, a period during which America had witnessed great financial and economic upheaval, fuel shortages and oil crises in the Middle East. Sensing an opportunity in the new and novel form of mining, Huck’s father had developed an empire that was continuing to this day to provide fossil fuel power for the United States. Over the decades since, and with Huck’s assistance, Seavers Incorporated had acquired allies both in Congress and the White House across multiple presidencies, valuable assets in the constant fight against environmentalists who seemed determined to remove all forms of power production from the United States in favour of returning humanity to living in mud huts and burning scrap wood for heat.
Seavers sighed softly as he looked out of the window of his jet and watched a regional aircraft take off, bound to destinations unknown. Big coal, as it was known, was a dirty business in almost every way and Huck was more than aware that many of the mountaintop mining companies had sought every means possible to ignore environmental and human rights issues in the pursuit of profit from their work. Seavers disliked the name itself — big coal, which made him sound like some corporate monster hell — bent on the destruction of nature. In truth, Seavers could not be further from such a caricature.
On the fold — down table before him was a picture of his wife and three children, in front of their beachfront property in Malibu, California. The bright blue sky, burning sunshine and luxurious villa were a sharp contrast to the drizzle and gray skies of Kentucky. Seavers could hear the rain drumming on the windows of the jet as he waited, and he reminded himself of why he was doing what he was doing. There were those who depended upon him, and the world was not a place that favored the weak or, sadly, the altruistic.
Seaver’s assistant, Allison, moved to the door of the jet and heaved the locking mechanism open. The door swung down and a series of steps unfolded automatically under hydraulic pressure to allow a man in a dark suit to stride up into the aircraft. He wore a long black coat, presumably to defend against the gusting rain outside, but nonetheless it made him look somewhat sepulchral. A black suit with a white shirt and black tie, his obsidian skin dark and his hair salt — and — pepper gray, his bulk large and intimidating even from this distance. Seavers could not imagine a more perfect image for the kind of man he was being forced to deal with.
Aaron Mitchell strode to the seat opposite Huck and sat down, his hair and face beaded with drops of rain to which he seemed oblivious. Dark eyes and a humourless expression stared back at Seavers as though from another world.
‘It is done.’
Seavers felt some of the tension slip away from his body and he could not help the sigh of relief that escaped from his lips as he nodded.
‘They all folded?’
‘All but one.’
Seavers felt his blood run cold again. He stared at Aaron for a long moment waiting to hear what had happened to the individual who had apparently decided to turn down the offer of a lifetime.
Aaron spoke quietly, but his voice nonetheless seemed to reverberate through Huck’s chest.
‘Stanley Meyer fled the town of Clearwater approximately two hours before we arrived. We have not been able to locate either he or his wife and daughter.’
Despite his consternation Seavers felt a ripple of relief once more flash through his system. He knew what the men he was doing business with were capable of, and had half expected a report that Meyer had been severed into multiple pieces and posted to the four corners of the country.
‘And what of his fusion cage?’
Aaron inclined his head. ‘It is now in safe hands.’
Seavers leaned forward on the table, his hands clapsed before him.
‘Stanley Meyer can reproduce that device almost anywhere he chooses,’ he insisted. ‘He can move from town to town and will be extremely difficult to trace. We both know that he is aware of who we are, of what we’re trying to do.’
‘Measures have been put in place,’ Aaron replied. ‘Disinformation has been spread. Meyer will not be able to get funding for his device no matter where he goes, and if he ever does surface will likely be arrested for fraud.’
Seavers rubbed his temples and shook his head. Despite the importance to him of maintaining his company’s work and future, he was aware that what he was doing to Meyer was every bit as distressing to the old man as it would be were somebody to undermine Seavers’ own company, just as environmentalists often did with smear campaigns and lies.
‘Meyer will not stop,’ Seavers said. ‘How much money was he offered?’
Aaron Mitchell stared back at Seavers. ‘Enough. He refused.’
Seavers looked at Mitchell and began to wonder whether he would have been better served travelling to visit Meyer himself, although he knew Stanley would likely have shot him on sight if Huck had stepped across his porch. Seavers was the opposite of what Meyer strove to be, the corporate monster that everybody love to hate, the powerful one, the successful one, the one for whom no fortune was large enough. Seavers bitterly regretted breaking contact with Meyer, with whom in the past he had often discussed the promising future of nuclear fusion and Seaver’s interest in investing in any new breakthrough technologies that might have emerged from the National Ignition Facility in California. But Huck could not have predicted just how far the old man would have come, just how much he would have achieved using nothing more than the tools available to him in the back of a goddamn garden shed.
Seavers leaned back in his seat in exasperation. ‘You told me that your people had power to find anybody, anywhere, at any time. You said you’d be able to deal with this, quietly.’