“Why haven’t these ZPGs, as you call them, been developed by the industrial nations of the world before now, especially when oil production has been historically so costly to produce and such an unstable factor in world events?” Maria asked.
“There have been a few bold scientists in America that have taken the lead for years in the research and development of the ZPGs. All research was paid for out of their pockets, and their frequent request for research funding fell upon the deaf ears of your nation’s politicians,” Yashiro replied to Maria. “I have no doubt that the oil companies, with their lobbyists and deep pockets, hold quite a strangle hold on the politicians in Washington D.C. With so much to lose, they are willing to do anything to protect their profits and control of the world’s oil-based energy needs for as long as they can.”
“That sounds like our esteemed elected officials,” Eli said sarcastically. “They’re always willing to sell out their constituents for a buck, or a vote.”
“Pencor has managed to mass-produce the ZPGs from his port facility in Morocco, and stands ready to ship them at a moment’s notice. He has the means of totally realigning the face of the global powers and reaping vast profits. Oil becomes an irrelevant commodity if he is supplying the ZPGs,” Yashiro said.
“What about this Osama character? How does he fit in to Pencor’s plan?” Turner asked as they continued upward, entering a wide chamber filled with glistening stalactites.
“Yagato Osama, with his weapons and new found riches from his partnership with Pencor and the Zero Point Generators, will no doubt rise to power in Japan. His tentacles now reach into every corner of the government, and many who have opposed him have simply disappeared. With unlimited access and control of the ZPGs and the threat of the Scalar weapons, the two have the means to control the world’s power consumption, and the weapons at their disposal to eliminate any who stand in their way.” Yashiro stumbled on a rock and nearly fell down.
“Wow!” Samuel said in disbelief. “No wonder they wanted us dead.”
“That is why we must escape,” Yashiro responded to Samuel. “We must stop them.”
“You said this was going to happen soon?” Turner asked. “How much time do you think we have before he unleashes the mega-slide?”
“A day, at the very most, but I fear we may be down to hours,” Yashiro said pessimistically.
Captain Saune came up to the group from behind and asked, “What kind of resistance, in the way of guards or surveillance, can we expect when we get to the complex? We’re getting low on ammo.”
“They won’t be expecting us, especially if they think you are all dead. They most likely sent the tunnel guards after me and, hopefully, it will be empty when we get there,” Yashiro said with optimism in his voice. “There are no surveillance cameras in the tunnel itself, but there is one in proximity of the helicopter pad. My plan was to exit the tunnel, then scale the rock face up to the caldera’s rim using an old path. After that, I planned to flee down the parking lot access road in the cover of darkness. Unfortunately, returning guards from the pad spotted me so I had to come this way instead. That’s when I ran into you.”
“We’d be sitting ducks until we made the tree line,” Samuel said. “There’s not much in the way of cover and it’s going be light in a few hours.”
“We’ll have to worry about that when the time comes, Samuel,” Turner responded. He then asked, “How much ammunition do you have left, Captain Saune?”
“What’s left in the gun and a spare clip,” he replied.
“Not too many rounds left in mine either, amigo,” Samuel added sourly.
“I’m down to my last few as well, so we’d better use them sparingly,” Turner said.
“How far is it to the access beneath the Bishamon complex from here?” Maria asked Yashiro as she guided the group around a cluster of shimmering stalagmites that protruded from the tunnel floor.
“It shouldn’t be too far ahead,” Yashiro responded. “We’ll see the lights in the tunnel well before reaching it.”
“I take it you have another plan, amigo?” Samuel asked Turner, with light sarcasm in his voice.
“Piece of cake,” he responded, slapping his friend on the back. “Piece of cake.”
“Why doesn’t that make me feel all warm and fuzzy?” Samuel said warily as the assemblage pressed on to what lay ahead.
10
The control room of the Bishamon complex was a beehive of activity as the six remaining scientists hurried about, pulling printouts and entering data into the complex’s vast computer database. The armed guards posted about the complex control room made them all uneasy, but they continued their work, fearful of what would happen if they didn’t comply.
At a door on the far end of the control room, Robert Pencor and Yagato Osama entered, preceded by two burly looking guards. Lead scientist and associate to Osama, Fuyuki Seijun saw the pair enter the brightly lit control room and quickly walked over to greet them.
“Good evening, Oyabun,” Fuyuki said to Osama in Japanese, bowing politely.
“Please speak in English for the benefit of our guest,” Osama said to the scientist, bowing slightly in return.
“My apologies, sir. Good evening, Mr. Pencor. I trust you are well,” Fuyuki said in broken English as one of the other scientists approached holding a clipboard in his hand.
“Here are the latest data and seismic reports, Dr. Seijun,” the stocky scientist said as he handed the clipboard to his superior.
“What is your current progress on the Scalar weapon?” Pencor asked curtly, cutting through the pleasantries and irritating Fuyuki.
“We are mere hours from completion, Mr. Pencor,” the scientist said, failing to hide his disdain for the American. “Our sensors on La Palma indicate that ground temperatures have increased exponentially for the last five days, increasing the static pressure on Cumbre Vieja’s fault line. With the slow build-up in pressure, seismic activity has been minimal, and reports of unusual activity by the locals living on the island have been few,” he stated proudly. “Our spotters on La Palma are reporting the appearance of new steam vents on the ridge line, which could be a problem if looked into, but the geological survey team is not expected to do their annual survey for another month.”
“And what about the report of a film crew that showed up last week?” Osama asked as the three men strolled over to the nearest computer console.
“A slight annoyance,” Fuyuki said, waving his hand in dismissal. “Just a National Geographic film crew doing a television documentary on the slight possibility of a land slide causing a tsunami,” he replied with a grin. “We’re keeping an eye on their activity.”
“They are going to have quite a documentary to televise when we are finished,” Osama said, breaking into laughter at the irony.
“Are you confident in your projections, Seijun?” Pencor asked, not amused at the display of joviality.
“Robert,” Osama said, “I trust Fuyuki’s work emphatically. He has been working on our Scalar projects since the days we were associated with our Russian friends in the KGB. He was instrumental in the first plasma ball testing that exploded over Perth, Australia, and many other events that have ensued through the years.”