Read It's Hell To Choose (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 9) Online
Authors: Michael Anderle
It was only time before miners lost their lives.
“Kagiso,” Bandile called out to his second, “Kagiso!” Getting Kagiso’s attention was tough. People were not paying attention. Finally, his second walked down the shaft and got close. “Yeah, boss?”
“Tell the men to pack up, I want everyone up top now.” His second looked at him with wide eyes, “What? We are going to have another Elandskraal incident but this time caused by one of us if we don’t get these men out of this heat. They have worked too long.”
“The company is going to fire you!” Kagiso mentioned, “I’m not saying it doesn’t need to be done, but just know you won’t be working again.”
“They can kiss my ass!” Bandile said. “My father taught me to protect the people, the metals aren’t going anywhere. There has always been an Annane working a mine somewhere. Not every company is so motivated by money as this one, and they will appreciate safety first.”
Kagiso pulled his radio and spoke the directions to start pulling the men out. He put it back on his belt, “I don’t know what planet you are from, but I have not heard of this safety first unless it translates to mine harder.” Both men grinned. It was a standard joke that everything in the safety manual was phrasing that all translated back to ‘mine more!’.
“Yeah, maybe not on this earth, you are right my friend. But I cannot allow these men to stay down here now that the company has lied to me three times. Promises are only as good as action, and their promise means nothing.”
“The government isn’t going to be happy, either,” Kagiso added.
Bandile nodded to some of the first groups that passed him in the shaft. Everyone was sweating, and a couple already had the look of men who did not know where they were. “The government would enjoy another Lonmin strike even less, or, God forbid, four hundred deaths. That would substantially mess up their safety records they keep talking about.”
Kagiso pulled his radio back up, ‘Aaron, where is your group?” He listened for a moment, “Ok, you have five then I want to see your ugly face and your team passing me in shaft four, got it?” He listened before putting it back on his belt turning back to his friend. “True. Either way, you get castigated, right?” Bandile nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, “It sucks to be you, my friend.”
Bandile shrugged, “Not so hard. What is hard is facing a wife who understands I need to do this, but fears for the family and the kids when I come home.”
“Dova will understand,” Kagiso agreed.
“Oh, I know, but I can feel the worry in her body when she hugs me.” Bandile turned to his friend, “I’ve got three months saved up, so you might have to hire me as your long lost cousin by then to work down here myself.”
Kagiso laughed, “Finally! I’ll get to tell an Annane what to do when mining! That will make sure the heavens open, and angels sing ‘alleluia’.” The men laughed before Kagiso continued, “Hey, didn’t you share with me an email from those Americans in space?”
Bandile waved to the group of men passing them. “What? Yes, the ones on the Moon. Why?”
“Well, if they want to talk with you, maybe they are mining on the Moon, and you will be the first Annane to mine off this world?” Kagiso pointed at a man with a yellow safety hat with a bat sticker on it, “It’s about time, Aaron. Anyone behind you lazy asses?” Kagiso got a tired shake of Aaron’s head, “Ok. We will be up on the next run.”
The two men waited for another couple of minutes, and when no one came by, they started towards the elevator. Kagiso got a head count over his radio. “Everyone is counted for, plus four have already come down from the corporate office over on shaft two.”
Bandile shrugged, “Let them come. So long as Abrie is up there like she promised me, the news can’t be hidden.”
Kagiso stared at his boss, “You already have the reporter friend waiting up there?”
“Of course, what good is it to pull everyone from a shaft if the company can hide it?” He smiled, “Now, I don’t owe Abrie a dinner. She gets a story instead.”
—-
It took six hours for the news interviews to be over and him to make it home. Sure enough, the company promised to move heaven and earth to fix the refrigeration units on all shafts and confirm with government oversight for the next three months.
He was also told, in no uncertain words, not to come back to work as he must be suffering from heat exhaustion himself and the company would let him know if they needed him back.
It was dark as he pulled into the little single level home he and his wife and three children had. Fortunately, it was paid for by his father who had made a few bucks himself on a small claim he held.
Dova stepped out of the front door as he opened his door and met him halfway to the house. He enveloped her in a crushing hug, one that she returned.
He held her out, “Dova, what is it?”
She looked at him funny, “What? Can a wife not hug her husband she is proud of? I have watched all of the news, and I am happy that you took care of your men.”
He pulled her in, more gently this time, “Yes, of course, and I thank you for these sentiments. No, I can feel you Dova. You are happy. Happy and proud. There is no worry in your muscles.”
Her muffled voice came from his chest, “How is it you can hug me and tell my emotions, but when I talk to you, you are deaf?”
He grunted in laughter, “That is because listening to comments about my socks do not interest me.”
She pulled back from him and grabbed his hand, “Come, husband, I have taken enough of your time.” She pulled him forward, and that was when he noticed a huge dark man standing in the shadows to the left of his house. Dova told him, “That is Darryl, he is here to protect our guest.”
“Our guest?” he inquired; he turned back to his wife, “What guest?”
TQB Base - Colorado
The news van left Denver traveling west on Highway 70. Inside, Mark Billingsly was reading a few of the tweets that had been coming in from the picket happening outside of TQB Enterprises corporate office up at the old Army base.
While he wasn’t expecting it to be a huge news piece, almost everything about TQB was being picked apart, and he expected either his piece would get sold to other markets, or he would be called directly for his experience if something should happen out at the location.
God, please let something happen!
Mark looked in the mirror and decided that he would ditch the tie and keep the dark blue sports coat. He ran a hand through his hair and checked his teeth to make sure nothing from lunch was in them. If this went fast, they could get a report either edited for the six o’clock, or they might do a live report depending on what happened with the President’s news event about TQB as well.
Mark turned in his chair to speak with his camera person, “Sia, are we good? Batteries?” He smiled when she stuck her tongue out at him. Sia was one of their best, but he still liked treating her like she just got out of school.
She popped a bubble and answered back, “Keep it up Mark, and I’ll make sure to leave the camera off, if they decide to rough you up. No video, no crime!”
Mark winked at Sia. They shared a good camaraderie and for all of his playing, he had told Sia before he would grab her in an instant over some of the more experienced camera people because she had ‘it.'
She had looked dubiously at him until he realized she thought he meant something physical. “No, you ass! I’m talking about hunger and curiosity. Not every male news anchor is a jackass!” he spit out.
He had been hurt and tried to let bygones be bygones, but it had been annoying to be accused of something he hadn’t done. Especially when he was trying to support a new camera person in their dog-eat-dog industry. He figured the cupcake with ‘sorry’ on it found on his desk two days later had been from her.
Ever since they had been a good team.
It took them thirty minutes to come to the turn-off. There was a large dark blue sign with the TQB Logo in white pointing them up the road to the old base. The sign said ‘Appointments Only This Location’ at the bottom. As far as Mark knew, all TQB sites required appointments.
The cars parked on the side of the road started back at least a half-mile from the entrance and Mark noticed Sia was taking pictures of three buses parked on the side as well.
Somebody was well organized.
A quarter-mile from the gate, there was a Hummer H2 parked across the road and two men in fatigues with the TQB Patch on their uniforms. Both men stood as they had probably stood when in the service. One put out his hand and was walking up to the driver’s side.
His breast pocket said ‘Barrins’ and spoke to their driver Kevin. “Hello Channel 4, how are you today?”
Mark spoke before Kevin could, “How do you know we are Channel 4?” They had a news van, but this one was just painted white on the outside.
“Your license plate, Mr. Billingsly, says ‘CHNL4-12’.
Take that plus the big satellite communication gear on the top and I recognize you since I watch you guys most evenings.” He looked up towards the other guard and made a circle with his hand. “You guys go on up, but go slow and don’t hurt anyone.”
“Wait,” Mark said, “Why are you blocking the road if you are just passing us through?”
“We’ve been told by the base commander to let the press through and notify him when someone finally showed up so he could pass it on.”
“Pass it on to whom?” Sia asked from the back.
“To the boss, who else?” He winked at Mark and stepped away from the van.
Sia commented, “Well, that was absolutely non-specific! Which boss? Who's boss?”
“Nooo…” Mark said as Kevin drove around the massive Hummer and kept the speed under twenty. “From what I understand, the base commander here, or grounds head or whatever his real title is outside of the military, answers to Lance Reynolds who is in charge of overseeing all of the companies. He is often traveling across the world. He was the old base commander, and I understand he looks significantly younger than before. Same thing for his wife.”
“So” Sia continued, “you think we might get a chance to interview him with the picketers in the background?” She made a face, “I thought those Army types were all crappy interviews.”
Mark shrugged, “I don’t know, I mostly interview Air Force. But I hope he didn’t wink at me to say it was going to be Lance Reynolds, I want his boss.”
“You mean Bethany Anne?” Sia asked.
“Yes, the lady herself. God, that would be golden!” Mark considered. He grabbed and started a text to his producer as Kevin parked the van.
He stepped out and hit ‘send’ as Sia opened the side door and Kevin left the van running, but dealt with getting the uplinks and signals sorted out.
Mark looked down the road a hundred yards at the small crowd there with signs chanting something about ‘Sharing is Caring', and 'Hoarding is Wrong!’. It looked to be over three hundred people of mixed races. There was one smaller group off to the side, and Mark could see at least fifteen tents scattered under the trees outside of the gate entrance on the other side of the crowd.
Sia came up beside him, “I wonder what they would do if they all just tried to climb up or run in?”
Mark nodded, “See those wires at the top of the fence?” She nodded, “Electrified. No one is going up there without coming back off all tingly."
Sia put the video camera on her shoulder and started taking some shots for the intro, “That’s funny!” she commented.
“What?” Mark asked.
“There are signs on the fence that say ‘Beware - Wolves in Area.
That has to be the worst way to keep people away that I’ve ever seen.
Mark finished prepping and asked her, “You got enough footage?” When she nodded, he continued “Good, let’s go.”
The two went walking up to the large group of people who were covering the front road and at least twenty feet on either side of the road. From there you couldn’t go to the right due to a sheer cliff-face going up a few hundred feet. To the left, the trees were pretty thick for twenty feet, and Mark knew there was a sudden drop of a couple of hundred feet that way. Sucked if you didn’t know this and tried anything in the dark.
The two of them shot three introductions really quick when Mark noticed Barrins walking up behind them with his thumbs stuck in his waistband, smiling.
Mark raised an eyebrow to the guy. It was nice that he was a fan, or at least a viewer of their show, but he didn’t want his elbow jiggled while he was working.