Cyber Attack (33 page)

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Teaser Chapters for
MARTIAL LAW

(Book 3 in The Boston Brahmin series)

Available December 2015

Chapter 1

September 3, 2016

9:05 p.m.

U.S. Route 411 Northbound

Near Tennga, Georgia

“Baby, you know I’m pedalin’ as fast as I can. I wanna get home to them ribs and your lovin like nuthin else on dis earth.” Big John Ames navigated his Peterbilt through the small town of Eton, Georgia and continued on his northern route along U.S. 411. It had been a long day as he waited on his load at the Olin Chlor-Alkali plant in McIntosh, Alabama. He should have been home hours ago but he couldn’t complain. There was no such thing as overtime pay in the trucking business, but Olin did pay their independent drivers for wait time. Detention pay was not typical but it was one of the perks Big John negotiated with Olin. At this hour, traffic was light, and he was making up time.

The Olin plant in Charleston, Tennessee was only twenty minutes from their home in Etowah. His wife of forty-two years, Patty worked for the McMinn County Clerk’s Office and their four kids moved away to big cities like Atlanta and Memphis. It was just the two of them now and Big John was eyeing retirement. He still loved to drive but late Saturday nights like this one was not what he had in mind.

He checked his mirrors constantly, out of habit. His eyes were always roving the road — seemingly everywhere at once. Big John was a safe driver with a nearly impeccable driver safety record. Of course, one misjudgment and he may take out a fender in a parking lot or wipe out the fuel pumps at a local truck stop.

“I’ll be comin’ up on the state line shortly baby and then straight into Charleston. Dem boys know I’ma comin’ and I can drop this tanker real quick like. I’m powerful hungry!” After he passed through the small town of Crandall, the diesel engine whined as he upshifts, working through gear after gear. It takes only a short while to get the rig up to speed. Chlorine gas is only slightly heavier than air. Large tanker trucks carrying gasoline or other liquefied loads can reach ninety thousand pounds when fully loaded. This load was light by comparison, an easy haul for his older M11 400E Cummins Diesel.

Crossing Sumac Creek, he notices the fog settling in for the evening. Then he noticed the time — 9:05 p.m. It was time for the David Webb show. “Now sugar, I’ve got to get down to bidness here. Let me roll on and I’ll call ya when I leave da Charleston Plant. I love ya’.”

Big John always told his wife he loved her when they hung up — because he did.

Chapter 2

September 3, 2016

9:03 p.m.

Amtrak/CSX Rail Southbound

Near Tennga, Georgia

The word
Tampa
means
sticks of fire
in the native language of the Calusa Indians who inhabited the area surrounding Tampa Bay in the sixteenth century. The term
sticks of fire
may have referred to the many intense lightning strikes the area received during the summer storms.

Railroad magnate Henry B. Plant brought his South Florida Railroad to Tampa in the late nineteenth century thereby connecting the region to industry and commerce via the nation’s railway system. The new railroad link enabled another important industry to enter the Tampa market—cigars. Once the railway link was completed, Vicente Ybor moved his cigar manufacturing operations to Tampa from Key West. Tampa’s close proximity to Cuba made the import of the choice tobacco from Havana easy by ship, and the newly created railroad link allowed shipment of the finished cigars to the rest of the United States.

As a result, Tampa became known nationwide for another
stick of fire
— the cigar. As the cigar industry flourished, so did Tampa and its pristine white sand beaches which became a magnet for visitors. The tourists became accustomed to the surroundings and made the annual trek for their vacations from Midwestern states like Ohio, Illinois and Indiana. As the vacationers reached retirement age, Tampa Bay became a logical location to ride out the winter months in the warm Florida sunshine.

In an effort to boost its profits as government funding of its rail operations began to dwindle, Amtrak partnered with CSX, the largest railroad in the eastern United States, to share the CSX railway system. Amtrak created pleasure routes between major population centers and tourist destinations. The partnership allowed CSX to maximize the use of its railway system between Tampa and the Midwest. CSX already operated the
Juice Train
, the collective name for Tropicana’s freight cars that carry fresh juice between Bradenton, just outside of Tampa, northbound to Cincinnati. The Amtrak partnership allowed for the rails to be utilized on the weekends.

For its passenger train accommodations, Amtrak created the
Sticks of Fire Express
. It’s nine hundred miles from Cincinnati to Tampa. The
Sticks of Fire Express
leaves Cincinnati on Saturday afternoon and arrives in Tampa on Sunday morning. Like a cruise ship, the train travels primarily at night. The journey on the
Sticks of Fire Express
travels through the heart of America, passing through Lexington, Knoxville, Atlanta and Tallahassee. Passengers enjoy spacious two-level accommodations with private bathrooms and a variety of dining options, including the Cross Country Café which could be reserved for private parties.

When Dominic Ciocia planned his wedding with bride-to-be Melissa, he wanted to create a lifelong memory for his bride, their families, and friends. After the tragic death of his parents in a plane crash, Dom’s life revolved around Melissa and his new extended family. He was left a substantial inheritance which allowed him to bury his sorrows amidst the wedding arrangements and plans for a new life. His parents, seasoned travelers, would have approved of this unique wedding and honeymoon.

They would not have approved of the Saturday night bachelor’s party. A devout Catholic, Dom and Melissa vowed to remain chaste until after their wedding. He loved her and did not want to disrespect her in any way. When his buddies concocted the bachelor’s party during the southbound trip to Tampa, he objected. Melissa, the trusting fiancé, encouraged him to enjoy the moment. Her girlfriends planned a bridal soiree of their own in the lounge car. While Melissa played traditional bridal shower games like
twenty questions
and
what’s in the bag,
Dom’s
boys
enjoyed too many drinks while discussing sexual conquests that probably never happened.

Through the glass doors connecting Melissa’s lounge car with the Cross Country Café, Dom thought about spending the rest of his life with his beautiful girl. Thoughts of babies, and growing old together filled his mind. He resisted the sudden urge to ditch the guys and run to her.

He let out a sigh.
Weddings and parties are for the guests more than the betrothed.

Chapter 3

September 3, 2016

9:09 p.m.

U.S. Route 411 Northbound

Near Tennga, Georgia

“
We have just gone through an evolution in American history. This summer has revealed a nation that has lost touch with itself. Too many Americans are letting themselves be led by the headlines and far-reaching goals of the presidential candidates on both sides while ignoring the realistic challenges our nation faces.”

Big John admired David Webb. Fellow conservative black men were few and far between. When Big John first became involved in the tea party movement in 2009, Webb caught his ear with a fiery speech challenging blacks in America to step out of their stereotype and consider what is best for their families. Webb, like Big John, believed the Democrat Party took the black vote for granted and ignored the underlying issue of concern to all Americans — economic stability. When Big John drove at night, AM talk radio and David Webb were always welcome travel companions.

The road was deserted in rural north Georgia which provided a quiet trip to the house. With the cruise control set at a steady fifty-mile per hour speed, Big John rolled along through the swirling mist of fog which hung over Perry Creek as it hugged the highway. He turned off the CB radio.
No bears out this late at night. Even the local yokels will be tucked in already.

“
As citizens, we have many civic duties, not just at election time. We need to be cognizant of our relationship with our fellow Americans. To those who continue to play the race card, know this. I am a black man. I am a Republican. I am an American. I speak from experience. Our culture — the American way of life, is under attack from within. The breakdown of our culture can only benefit those who wish to fundamentally transform America. This failure of leadership can be seen at the local level, all the way up to the White House. It is time for all of us, black and white, to rise up and reject the unlawful behavior and dis—“

Static filled the radio. Big John looked down and adjusted the tuner on the radio. Nothing. He scrolled through the AM stations and found static everywhere.
Did I lose the antenna?
He switched to the FM band.
All static
.

His cell phone was ringing. Big John abandoned the radio and reached for the phone which promptly fell beneath the bucket seats of the Peterbilt. He stretched his arm and fumbled around in the darkness, searching for the phone. For a moment, he took his eyes off U.S. 411.
Just for a moment
.

Chapter 4

September 3, 2016

9:11 p.m.

Amtrak/CSX Rail Southbound

Near Tennga, Georgia

Dom’s friends ushered him into a chair in the middle of the Cross Country Café. Shouts of
drink, drink, drink
filled the air as shots of tequila were passed around. Dom downed the obligatory shot, his fourth, and was starting to unwind a little. The guys started staccato clapping as they ushered in a scantily clad girl wearing a sexy train conductor’s outfit.

This is just great. A stripper
. While his thoughts of Melissa were still there, he decided to enjoy the festivities. This was, after all, his last night as a
free man
.
I’ll do it so the guys will get a laugh.

“I’m here to punch your ticket sir,” she said. “May I check your pockets?” Dom smiled a little as the fairly attractive girl began to run her hands inside his pants pockets.

As she reached to feel his right pocket, she groped his crotch and exclaimed “What do we have here?” This brought a roar of laughter from the guys. As the girl straddled Dom, her tuxedo style jacket popped open revealing ample breasts.
Okay, this is too much.

Dom tried to gently push her away but accidentally grabbed the girl’s breasts instead. Amidst the sound of laughter, and without warning, the lights went out in the train. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then they erupted with hoots and hollers. One of the guys had flipped off the light switch.

Now we can really party
.

Do her Dom!

If you won’t I will
.

The massive two hundred ton diesel locomotive which powered the sixteen car passenger train maintained a steady speed of roughly fifty miles per hour. As the engineer approached the ground rail crossing just south of Tennga, Georgia, he briefly blew the train’s whistle at one thousand feet and issued a longer warning at six hundred feet. The trainmen slowed the speed as the
Sticks of Fire Express
approached the crossing of U.S. 411. They noticed in disbelief that the traffic signals and controls for the highway grade crossing were not working.