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FIVE
'Good evening. This is Dan Rather. CBS News. The worst oil spill in history continues to become more catastrophic. Since striking a reef off Australia 's eastern coast yesterday, the Argonaut - a Pacific-Rim Petroleum Corporation supertanker – remains in danger of sinking while efforts to contain its cargo have been alarmingly ineffectual. An estimated thirty million gallons of crude oil now pollute the formerly pristine Coral Sea. Prevailing currents direct the spill toward one of the world's finest natural wonders, the thousand-mile-long Great Barrier Reef. Ecologists predict that, unless a miracle occurs, the delicate microscopic organisms that form the basis of the reef will be destroyed, and along with those organisms, the Great Barrier itself will be destroyed. As our correspondent in Brisbane explains, yet another magnificent and irreplaceable glory of our planet is about to cease to exist.'
SIX
Australia.
Captain Victor Malone, trembling, haggard, left the Brisbane courthouse where he'd been interrogated throughout the day about the mistaken directions he'd given his watch officer to avoid the reef that the Argonaut had struck. Ten degrees port,' he'd insisted he'd told his subordinates.
But ten degrees starboard is what his watch officer and helmsman insisted they'd heard. Fools! No, cowards! That's what they were! Damned disloyal cowards! They didn't have the guts to stand by their captain! Some of them even claimed they suspected he'd been drinking!
A good thing no one had thought to test his blood until twelve hours after the accident. The chemical analysis would be inconclusive. If a small trace of alcohol did show up in his blood, Malone could always claim that he'd had a drink to steady himself after the helicopter had flown him ashore.
As Malone left the courthouse and photographers snapped his picture, he raised his arm to shield his face and stumbled angrily down the courthouse steps through the crowd toward the car he'd hired to take him away. His muscles shuddered. A vodka martini, he kept assuring himself.
All I need is…
If I can manage to escape these bastard reporters…
A martini!
That'll set my mind straight!
Malone jabbed his elbow into a photographer's chest, shoved the doubled-over man aside, oblivious to his anguished moan, and reached the hired car. But the dark sedan was empty. Where the hell was the driver? Sure, Malone thought. The son of a bitch! He ran! The crowd made him panic! He's a coward, the same as my officers!
Malone lunged behind the steering wheel, slammed the door shut, jerked the ignition key, stomped the accelerator, and roared from the courthouse.
While he veered around a corner, gri
The explosion – which he never heard – sprayed blood, bone, hair, and chunks of metal for thirty yards in every direction.
The site of the blast had been perfectly chosen. As Dan Rather explained the next evening, 'It appears that the method was deliberate and selective. No one else was injured. Only the Argonaut's captain died.'
SEVEN
Hong Kong.
Chandler Thompson, chief executive officer of the Pacific-Rim Petroleum Corporation, strained not to squint from the glare of TV lights while he stood authoritatively straight behind a podium on a platform, addressing a throng of reporters in the conference room of Pac-Rim's headquarters. Forty-eight, with stern chiseled features, he'd been extremely reluctant to agree to this press conference, but the mounting furor about the disaster left him no choice. He had to diffuse the controversy and bolster Pac-Rim's devastated reputation. His thousand-dollar suit was impeccably pressed. He'd made sure to button its coat before he strode with military bearing into the room and onto the platform.
'Were we aware that Captain Malone had a drinking problem?… No. It's stringent corporate policy that all of our crewmen abstain from alcohol while on duty and for twenty-four hours prior to boarding a Pacific-Rim vessel… Do we test samples of their blood to insure that they abide by the rule? It's never seemed necessary. Our officers are rigorously screened before they're hired. We have utmost confidence in our perso
Harried movement on Thompson's left distracted him. A nervous Pac-Rim executive stepped onto the platform, hurrying forward with a folded note. The executive's face was ashen. You idiot, Thompson thought. You'll ruin…! For God's sake, don't you know enough not to interrupt me? We have to keep up a show of confidence. I was just about to…!
Repressing a furious scowl, Thompson took the note and mentally vowed to fire the executive the moment the press conference ended.
'Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,' Thompson told the reporters. Straining to look dignified, he opened the note, sca
OUR BRISBANE OFFICE REPORTS KEVIN STARK, DIRECTOR OF CONTAINMENT PLANNING,
Stark! Yet another executive whom Thompson pla
WAS FOUND AN HOUR AGO, DROWNED, HIS BODY UPSIDE DOWN IN A BARREL OF OIL.
Reporters responded to Thompson's evident shock and crowded toward him, shouting further questions. Still dizzy, suddenly thirsty, he groped for a glass of water on the podium. As Thompson swallowed the water, he noted its bitter aftertaste and abruptly gasped, fire coursing through his stomach. His legs felt knocked from under him. Photographers flashed more pictures. Video cameras whirred while Thompson dropped the glass, fell to his knees, clutched his stomach, gasped again, and pitched forward, dead before he hit the platform, but not before blood spewed from his mouth, spattering the front row of reporters.