Deadly Revenge (Pearl River #3)

Chapter 43

43

The Pearl River Reservoir came into view. His hands cramped from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. Hatred boiled up from his chest.

If it hadn’t been for the dam and reservoir ... It was time to finish his plan. Draining the lake and killing Carter were the last two items on his list.

He flipped the sun visor down and turned the white pickup with a Tennessee Department of Environment and Conservation logo adhered to the door onto the access road. The truck eased past the parking lot for visitors and continued on to the chain-link fence blocking access to the dam.

His insides were like a sugar-loaded kid on steroids. What if the guard recognized him? Never mind that he hadn’t recognized himself this morning with the fake mustache and gray crew cut wig.

He stopped at the wire gate and grabbed his clipboard while an overweight guard swaggered toward him with a no-trespassing frown on his face.

Relief was swift—it was the new guy. Still, he couldn’t stop the fear encroaching his body. Sweat dampened his palms. What if the guard questioned the TDEC logo? At first glance, it looked real, but if the guard looked closely, he was bound to notice it wasn’t painted on but a decal with an adhesive backing.

He hadn’t come this far to lose it. Pushing aside the fear, he rolled down his window. “Good morning. I—”

“You’re not supposed to be on the access road.” The guard glowered as if to dare him to say otherwise.

The name on the badge said Tim. “I’ve been sent to conduct moisture tests. TDEC received a report from the computers monitoring the gallery of an increase in seepage. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

The frown barely eased. “I didn’t get a notification anyone was coming.”

He’d anticipated this. “Really?” He handed him the clipboard with his fake authorization. “My boss was leaving for vacation at noon, and I bet it slipped his mind. His name and number are at the bottom of the page.” While the guard scanned the paper, he said, “You’re new, right?”

The guard looked up from the paperwork. “How’d you know?”

He had familiarized himself with all the guards who manned the dam. “I usually deal with John, and he said they were supposed to hire someone.”

“Yeah, I did orientation under John.”

He pointed to the clipboard. “If you have any questions, you can phone my boss ... although I’m sure he’s left for his trip.” He waited a beat. “I can give you his cell phone number.”

Tim stared at the authorization a few seconds longer. “No need, but I’ll have to see your ID.”

“Sure.” Victory. He fished the fake TDEC credentials from his wallet and handed them to him. After Tim checked the name on the authorization against the ID, he handed both back. “Hold on while I open the gate.”

He allowed himself to blow out a breath while the gate swung open.

“I’ll be over there in a minute to open the gallery door,” Tim called after him.

He parked at the end of the access road, climbed out of the truck, and slipped on a backpack with enough C-4 inside to blow a hole in the dam. While he waited for Tim, he hooked a utility belt around his waist before he donned a silver hard hat and grabbed the telescoping ladder he would need.

Tim was panting when he reached him and briefly eyed the backpack while he caught his breath. “I can’t go with you to the gallery,” he said as he unlocked the door. “Nobody to man the guardhouse, and besides, the thought of going underground and all that water overhead gives me the creeps.”

“Totally understand. John never accompanies me, either. Just leaves me the key so I can lock up when I’m done.”

Tim hesitated.

“Just trying to save you a trip,” he said with a shrug. He didn’t want to worry about Tim coming back before he was finished.

The guard’s shoulders relaxed and he handed him the key. “If it’s okay for John ... just don’t lose it.”

“Gotcha.”

A few minutes later, he had the door opened and noted the time, then flashed a light down the dark, spiral staircase. There had to be a light switch somewhere. He shined a light around the walls, locating the switch just inside the door. If it’d been a snake, it would’ve bit him.

He shuddered. Now was not the time to be thinking of snakes.

He inched down the steps all the while urging himself to move faster—he didn’t want Tim coming to check on him. Since the guard had an aversion to being underground, he probably didn’t need to worry. Finally he was on the floor of the gallery where he shucked the heavy backpack and removed the C-4.

Pushing aside the thoughts of just how much water and dirt was above him, he shined his light down the narrow gallery that was barely wide enough to accommodate two people.

High up on the wall, cables that connected to the control room snaked along the wall. He quickly extended the ladder, making sure the rungs locked in place before he climbed it. The cables were just thick enough to prop a cell phone on, perfect for the one he’d modified. He secured the phone to the cables.

He wedged the C-4 between the cables. Once it was secure, he stuck in a detonator and attached a wire to it and then to the phone.

One phone call. He closed his eyes briefly, imagining the hole the explosion would make in the dam. Within hours the lake would drain, and eventually the land would be free to return to its original state.

A quick glance at the phone reception assured him the phone had connected to the cell service that was used to transmit information from the gallery to the control room. Days ago, he’d hacked into the control room database and retrieved the password.

He laughed to himself, the sound muffled. No one would expect him to know how to hack into anything. Just showed how easily people could be fooled.

Even though it was cool in the gallery, sweat formed on his forehead. He wiped his face on his shirt sleeve and then checked his watch. He’d been here thirty minutes. It felt like hours.

He descended the ladder, retracted it, and then backed against the wall and looked up. Someone would have to be searching for the bomb to see it.

His job here was done.

D-day minus 3.