THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS (Volume 1 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 54

"Let's stop at my office," Mike suggested as he raced his XKE northward on Avenue Road.

"Why?" Karen asked.

Mike was grim faced. "A lot of fires to put out," he conceded. "I've got to do something...at least to slow them down."

Ten minutes later, Mike hurried to his desk, ignoring the stack of telephone messages his secretary had handed him. Karen trailed after him like a ghost.

"Take a good look at the front page of the Globe," Mike's secretary said. "It's on your desk."

Mike lifted a copy of the morning Globe & Mail. The front page photograph immediately caught his eye. It showed firemen picking through the charred remains of the head office of Amerada Tank Lines. Shocked, he read the story detailing eyewitness reports of a large explosion that occurred shortly after eleven the previous evening. It stated that the head office of Amerada Tank Lines Limited had been completely destroyed, and that police investigating the incident believed at least three people had been killed. Mike's heart sank when he read that police had identified Dave Lasker as one of the three victims. Other victims were still unidentified, and the cause of the blast was still unknown.

He turned back to the door. "Barb, would you call Empire State Oil and get Bob Bushing on the line?" He turned to his other secretary. "Marlene, I want you to phone every outlet in the system and tell them to stop ordering gasoline from Empire State Oil. I need to know exactly how many are affected by contaminated gasoline. I want the ones that are affected to close until further notice and tell them to pump their tanks. Tell the employees there will be no interruption to their salaries or benefits. When you're finished, I want you to get in touch with all of our sales representatives and tell them to allocate available gasoline supply equally among all of the outlets. If the media calls, tell them we have absolutely no comment."

"I've already talked to Bushing's wife," Barb said. "She called here, looking for him. She said she doesn't have the slightest idea where her husband is. Evidently he left home last night and she hasn't seen him since. I asked her to have him call you if he shows up?"

"Thanks. I'm going to be in my car for most of the day," Mike said. He reached for Karen's hand and led her toward the door. "I'll call."

Mike glanced at his gasoline gauge as he threaded his XKE northward on Bayview Avenue through the heavy city traffic. The needle pointed precariously close to empty. "I've got to stop for gasoline. We're running on fumes," he said as he turned onto a Shell service station lot and stopped beside one of the three parallel gasoline islands. Karen immediately noticed the car parked beside the adjacent island. The sight of a long, white Cadillac limousine made her blood run cold. She jumped from the car and examined the license plate at the rear of the limo. "That's it!" she shouted.

"That's what?" Mike asked. He inserted a gasoline nozzle into the fill pipe of his XKE.

"It's Jim's!" she screamed, pointing frantically at the limousine. "I know it's his!"

Mike stepped up and scanned the limousine's interior. "There's no one in it," he said. Then he turned and continued to fill his gasoline tank, keeping his eye on the door of the station. "Get back in the car and hide," he ordered.

"But Phillip—"

"Now, Karen!"

Karen returned to her seat and lowered herself until her eyes were parallel to the bottom of her side window.

Mike finished filling the tank and returned the gasoline nozzle to the pump. He glanced again at the station, to see a large fat man emerging from the office. He carried a white canvas bag and was heading straight toward the limousine. Mike opened his car door and leaned in to face Karen. "Have you ever seen him before?" he asked.