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“I think we both know those weren’t accidents.”
The digitized voice laughed. The sound of it was like metal scraping metal. It gave Chase the creeps.
“In the coming hours,” the Voice continued, “news will break that a blast furnace in the Avalon plant did not shut down properly. That is true. It will be reported as an unfortunate accident. This is not true. We breached the plant’s network and seized their industrial control systems.”
“Who’swe?”
“Don’t waste time on stupid questions, Mr. Weldon.”
“What do you want?”
“We want Miles Gillen to bleed. If not actual blood,money. A hemorrhage. See to it that $100 million is deposited in the link we’re sending, or the evening commute will be a real gas.”
“You’re extortionists. I’ll be hanging up now so I can call the FBI.”
“Well then, I hope your daughter feels better.”
Chase sat bolt upright, every muscle in his body tensed. The threat was an electric jolt. He fought to control his breathing, so as not to reveal his mounting fear to the caller.
“Do I still have your attention?” asked the Voice. That grinding laugh again, like pocket change falling into gears. “The deadline is 6 p.m. tomorrow. No cops, no tricks. Or the next bodies ripped apart will be your family’s.”
“Do not threaten my family,” Chase growled.
“Then keep them safe. Get to work.”
“Why me?”
“You have access to Gillen.”
“Lots of people have access to Gillen. I’m a consultant. Not part of his inner circle.”
“Because you’re the one who wanted to befirst, Mr. Weldon.”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER 8
CHASE SPENT THE rest of the day and most of the night trying and failing to connect with Miles Gillen and Avalon Communications’ chief security officer, Alex Teague.
“It’s crucial that I speak to Mr. Gillen,” Chase told Gillen’s executive assistant. “Regarding the plant and the stadium. He needs to hear what I have to say.”
“He’s unavailable, Mr. Weldon,” said the EA. Her voice was singsong, as if she were talking to a kindergartner. Or a conspiracy theorist. “He’s flying in from the West Coast to assess the damage from the accident.”
On the Avalon corporate jet, no doubt, he thought.Completely reachable. If Gillen won’t talk, time to bring out the big guns.
He called Shay.
As one of Avalon’s corporate attorneys, she guarded Gillen’s private number like the crown jewels. Even over the phone, he could practically hear her eyebrow raising, but to her credit, she didn’t question the seriousness of his ask, just gave him the number with a simple warning. “Be good.”
“Always, babe.”
Chase’s first call went to voicemail. He kept his tone calm and measured, but laden with authority, summoning his army command voice. Green Beret Chase, not “Sales” Chase from keynote speeches at security summits.
“Mr. Gillen, Chase Weldon. I have information regarding your Southeast plant and Avalon Park. They are related incidents, and neither were accidents. I believe a third situation to be imminent. It is imperative you call me back immediately, sir.”
When no return call came, Chase rose slowly from his seat and moved to the windows, scanning the park below, then looking across to the windows of the surrounding office buildings. He didn’t know what he expected to see, and no external threat was apparent.
But he couldn’t yet rule out the chance that he was vulnerable from the inside. He turned and examined his conference room, assessing every familiar object for potential danger.
