6 comments/  11202 views/  7 favorites

Fury Over Nuke Plant Plan

By: EgmontGrigor2011



* Set in New Zealand that has no nuclear reactors

CHAPTER 1

Guthrie Marks worked alone repairing small boats Monday to Friday, usually from 7:00 till 4:00, and then would go to one of his favorite bars in the prosperous seaside town of Townsend that looked out to Okahu Island and, like everyone else in that locality, he was unaware the island soon would become the center of huge controversy over a proposal to establish a nuclear power plant on the island.

The 21,870-acre island was accessible by foot across a fairly stable sandbank for up to two hours on both sides of low tide.

A two-hourly regular ferry service ran to accommodate those who avoided walking along the half-mile sandbank either because they didn't like risking a race against the incoming tide, or were pregnant mothers, mothers with infants or mothers lugging shopping. Others who always took the ferry included debt collectors, tax inspectors, the infirm, ferry rider fanatics and near-paralytic drunks. 

Foreign tourists and people from cities on the mainland within fifty miles of Okahu Island were drawn there because artists and crafts people, many of whom were nationally acclaimed, festooned Artisan's Village and its immediate surrounds around picturesque Gunship Bay. The beach there had been a hauling out area for naval vessels in the age of sail.

Guthrie, known to everyone locally as Gus, owned five of the more up-market houses in that village, inherited from his late maternal grandmother who survived all of her children including Gus's mother who was caught by the tide one night because she was drunk and had misjudged the safe-to-cross timing. Gus, who was eleven at the time and was with his mother, managed to swim to a shallow water warning buoy where four hours after the tragedy he was found clinging to the buoy.

Tourists and holidaymakers from the region stayed at Gus's houses paying big rentals, making him quite wealthy but he considered at thirty-six he was too young to retire and kept on with his boat repair business, purchased from his father. This part of the coast was rocky with many reefs and submerged hazards and, as a consequence, boating mishaps were quite frequent. Local people requiring boat repairs or refits kept Gus's order book full because was first-choice repairer, being a master craftsman. 

Gus would return from the bar of that afternoon's choice around 6:00 each evening to his home over the boatshed practically on Sandy Beach, the only premises permitted that close to the sea. That privilege was secured because his boat-building grandfather had secured inalienable title to that piece of land through proven long-standing occupancy of family succession in the 1950s when extensive reforms were introduced throughout the country to control land use and provide tighter protection of natural resources.

Usually when Gus arrived home his dinner would be almost ready, prepared by a kindly widow, wife or a comely single woman whenever Gus's schoolteacher girlfriend was unavailable. In most instances, once Gus had eaten, the cook would enjoy robust sex with him, usually up to two hours if she had the stamina and inclination and a good excuse to explain her flushed cheeks and lateness home if she were answerable to a partner or father/mother.

It was a beautiful arrangement for Gus because he had no inclination to pay for sex. What the women got out of it he wasn't sure but most of them kept on the roster managed by his girlfriend Kitty. Gus and Kitty were both very popular residents in Townsend and people in the town and on the island enjoyed seeing the attractive couple together. None of them including Gus knew that Kitty (31) intended to marry Gus as soon as he got her pregnant.

It appeared to be a life of bliss for the people of the town and island, although it's well known that people enjoying the best of life often foul up or have it fouled up for them.

Totally unexpected came a bombshell, the Government announcing Okahu Island had been chosen as proposed site for a nuclear power plant and a site exploratory team would arrive on the island shortly to being test drillings on behalf of the Government's electricity authority.

Local people were horrified on the day of that shock announcement. Many people failed to show up for work, calling in that they were sick, as they probably were... sick to the stomach.

The first spontaneous neighborhood meetings began forming within minutes of the news breaking

Angry citizens calling Townsend Talkback Radio ranted on the airwaves, being bleeped numerous times for bad language but were allowed to make defamatory remarks against the Government because the station manager deemed it was impossible to libel a Government.

Kitty called Gus and wept, "Oh darling this is terrible for our baby."

Caught by surprised Gus said, "What baby?"

"Um did I say baby?"

"You did. Are you pregnant?"

"No," she sobbed. "I was thinking the nuclear pollution would be really damaging to babies. What are you going to do about it darling?"

"Declare war on the bastards who invade our island."

"What?"

"Oh bugger. Forget I ever said that darling."

"Very well."

He said promise him she'd never repeat what he'd just said and she promised 'hand on heart'.

"I should be touching that breast."

"What, oh god Gus how could you be thinking sex at a time like this?"

Gus wondered was there really a time not to think of sex?

"Listen very carefully baby, my strategy will be to take a passive role and argue it's only an investigation and the drillers will probably find the composition of island ground is too unstable to take the weight of a nuclear power station."

"But if you take a passive stand you would be harshly criticized."

"Oh in that case I just better shrug and say I want nothing to do with it."

"You'll be called a coward."

Gus said provided people still came to him to repair their boats and paid their accounts by due date he could live with being called a coward.

"Will you let your houses on the island to the investigating team?"

"Gee I could hike up prices."

"Gus!"

"Um no, no way could they occupy my houses. Let the bastards haul across RVs, caravans and tents to the island."

"Good boy. I was about to warn you I could withhold sex."

"Oh that would have been an enormous loss."

Kitty released her cute giggle he found so adorable. "Oh darling. You can say just the sweetest things to me. I trust you will avoid coming to harm if you indulge in your know what?"

"What having sex with you?"

"No you fool. If you indulge in what I'm forbidden to talk about."

"Oh that. Everything will be Jake. I'll count on you to be courageous and keep your mouth shut if things begin looking dicey for me."

"I will. You know I'm not a wimp otherwise you would have had nothing to do with me."

"Agreed," said Gus. "Now listen carefully. From now on be aware of anyone coming snooping. If I'm away say I'm touring the country studying boat-repair trends and then probably will visit France, Japan and Norway."

"What?"

"That would explain my absence darling. You wouldn't like me being accused of civil disobedience on the island would you? I'd need sex before I disappeared so you will know by the depth of my interest and affection that I'm about to go away."

"Oooh, when will that be? The bell is going, I better go. Our school principal is hunched over his laptop looking up how to defend populations against nuclear radiation leaks."

"Tell him he could be retired before any plant goes operational."

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes honey that island is honeycombed with caves and fissures. I can't see them building a power station on it and then running the giant electricity transmission pylons over the sandbank."

"Omigod that would be desecrating our walkway making people too scared to walk under those huge power lines."

"Yeah the developers could use huge under-sea cables but the cost of that would frighten the Government because it's Energy Commission will be footing the bills through Government guaranteed loans. Don't tell anyone about what I've just said because having these guys here on their misguided investigation will boost the economies of the town and the island."

"Oh yes, good thinking. Bye darling. Mae Partridge is cooking your dinner tonight because I have a school committee meeting. Mae is the big screamer, remember?"

"Yeah and damn, that's not the only thing big about Mae."

Kitty giggled and cut the call.

* * *

Gus went to the back of the boatshed and moved odd lengths of surplus planks and unlocked the heavy steel cover set into the concrete floor and gently lifted out the WW2 sniper's rifle in its carry bag an old guy had given his dad in the 1960s and put that on the bench. Gus' father Cliff and his 39-year old second wife now lived in Florida. 

There was a good supply of ammo for the gun and it wasn't registered so any forensic work on recovered bullets could not be traced back to the weapon's owner. His father had not intended being that deceitful; he just liked to have a couple of guns handy and didn't believe it was the police's business to know what weapons he possessed and to have to pay fees for the privilege of the police to hold and update that information.

Gus spent most of the morning doing regular maintenance on the rifle and checking it out thoroughly. Instead of going to a bar that afternoon he went around to the west side of the island on his 10 ft 6 in inflatable boat with a rigid aluminum hull and powered by a 15 hp Honda motor, very similar to many such boats running about in the area. On this occasion he wished to remain inconspicuous and dressed as a fisherman complete with sunhat and dirty clothes and drank beer as he cruised.

Nearing the western side of the uninhabited Government-owned northern area of the island that was used for grazing stock and horse-riding, Gus went very close inshore to be hidden from any nature walkers observing sea life from the towering cliffs and went into what he knew as Sea Cave 34. As a boy Gus had explored many of the island's sea caves, but not all of them, because he estimated there were at least 150 of them. He used to camp in this cave when young and first had sex in this very cave, with Maggie Westwood who now was a divorcee with three kids. Maggie worked as a successful potter working from home in the Artisan's Village she shared with a sexy female artist who also had totally lost interest in males.

Gus found a crevice to his liking, stowed the rifle, night binoculars used for night fishing to spot water disturbances of schooling fish, a spare pair of boots and a jacket and candy bars he'd placed in a tin. He then covered over the stockpile with a piece of cloth of similar color to the eroding sandstone. Gus checked the cache, approaching from different angles, and was satisfied it would escape detection unless the searcher was the ultimate sleuth using a metal detector.

Well he was ready; bring it on. 

After Gus had his dinner above the boat repair workshop and the cook had cleared away and washed the dishes and put everything away, she happily lay under Gus, getting the only reward she wanted.

"Oooh you feel fat tonight Gus," she cooed. "What's excited you?"

"Your beautiful meal and my desire to exhibit full appreciation," Gus said, avoiding the real truth and saying his excitement was due to his self-appointed upcoming mission of harassing the nuclear power plant proposed site investigation. "Yes it's true I can feel all sides of you this evening Mrs Partridge, or rather Mae. It's such a delight."

"Omigod, I'm coming I'm coming," she screamed, and dogs up to three miles away began howling to the sound of her high-pitched cries.

* * *

The media came to report on the anger and resentment of the residents of Fairbanks County, particularly the residents of the mainland town of Townsend and the island community of Artisan's Village.

Mr Guthrie Marks, who was reported as owning the five best dwellings in the village overlooking the magnificent Gunship Bay, was interviewed against that fantastic backdrop when filmed for one of the interviews for the 'Hot Topic Tonight' to be screened that evening on TV1. He said laconically that he didn't understand what the fuss was about.

"These mega projects come and go. Local resistance will be such that the stupid [bleep] who callously dreamed up our island as a lovely little site for their power generation monstrosity will be eventually told by their political masters to go somewhere and build it on an abandoned refuse dump. This is pristine coast that we have to protect for our children and their children and other generations in the far out future. If the Government is worried about future power generation capacity then they should be spending it on financing research into more efficient and longer-lasting candles and home heating and cooking systems that operate efficiently on the smell of an oily rag."

Mrs Annette Wilks, owner-operator of the hamburger bar in Artisan's Village was the only other person to express herself moderately. She said, "I hope that nuclear plant doesn't explode and it will look pretty. Actually I think all the activity associated with this project will be good for business."

All the other people interviewed by the various media turned red-faced and bug-eyed and were scathing in their attack on the Government-initiated madness and corporate money-grubbing demons that had unleashed the nuclear threat on the island and adjacent mainland coastline.

At a public meeting covered by news media, a PR spokesman for the investigating company said to the aggressive audience that was haranguing him, "Total national generation capacity is approaching the stage where we require new generating plants to keep a safe margin between peak consumption and total capacity including allowance for maintenance shutdowns. How else could your demand for electricity remain secure?"

"You fucking idiot, we have all we need now," called a loud-mouth balding guy with a thick beard. "We just flick the switch and oh hello, we have power." 

"Oh Christ," said the PR spokesman, slapping his hand against his forehead. "Please would an intelligent person ask the next question?"

A well-dressed woman stood.

"Yes ma'am."

"I have a very helpful suggestion. To avoid all this stiff opposition, why don't you build you fucking nuclear power plant next to Parliament Building in Wellington?"

The huge cheer was deafening and the spokesman grabbed his attaché case and fled.

* * *

A month after the aborted public meeting, three guys in suits in white helmets drove off the island-servicing barge and drove straight through Artisan's Village and headed out towards the Government-owned land.

Everyone who was a voluntary member of the Community Alert Corp received an automated message on their cell phone: 'The enemy has arrived'. 

People answering their phones tuned in to a designated channel on their short-range radio system and listened as people in the loop reported the progress of the black vehicle passed them.

Finally it came to rest near the saltwater lagoons.

Felix Joyce radioed, "Ah those lagoons are seen as a source of either water draw off or water discharge or perhaps both in the process of cooling the nuclear reactors. The discharge could of course contain radioactive waste."

Anna Field: "Omigod. Those are breeding grounds for water birds and for centuries have been a temporary resting place for migrating birds twice yearly. I must alert world wildlife protection organizations.

The group commander, Alan Tallboys, cut in, "Agent 001, can you hear me."

"Yeah. I'm in position, the mystery person said."

"Do it 001."

Five minutes later a loud explosion was heard at that end of the island.

Ten minutes later a carload police, the entire force of Townsend on duty at that time, were at the wharf phoning for the barge operator to return urgently to take them on police business.

"I'll be at least thirty minutes," said the operator. "I have part of the motor in pieces doing regular maintenance."

"Row across," yelled the exasperated police sergeant.

"Jack have you every tried to row a 30-ton barge that is 20 ft wide?"

"Get fucked Howie," snared Sergeant Plank.

"I will if you send Constable Claire Wright across. I guess all police officers have to be able to swim."

Apparently the angry sergeant cracked the windscreen of the patrol car, punching it. It was later reported as damage caused by a flying rock.

Later that day, police interviewed all known criminals on the island, seventeen in all but that was only the known criminals. Detectives from the city arrived that afternoon to investigate the crime scene. The smallest piece left of the Jeep Cherokee was the engine. Pieces of the vehicle were scattered over 1200 yards, some raining down on the terrified engineers who were not injured but were indignant at being stranded without a vehicle.

They saw no one acting suspiciously, they told Sergeant Plank. In fact they saw no one since they'd got a half-mile beyond the village.

"Someone will swing for this," thundered Sergeant Plank, who was having severe bruising to his right knuckles dressed by a medic.

Despite extensive inquiries, the culprit or culprits were never located.

The media arrived and had a field day. The best newspaper headline next morning was: Nuke Probe's Vehicle Blasted to Bits.

The chairman of the company hoping to win the construction and commissioning contracts for the new Nuclear Power Plant said on TV that evening, 'Those spoilers on the island have had their day. We will now operate under tight security with heavily armed guards. The guards will shoot back if our people are attacked and if any attackers are accidentally killed, so be it. The Government is sympathetic to our causes and has offered surveillance from the land, sea and air if required."

Kitty pulled Gus' hand off her left breast and stowed the breast.

"Do you know who detonated the bomb?"

"What bomb?"

"God little wonder the police are getting nowhere with their inquiries with answers like that. Well what about all this extra security? Island resistance will get nowhere now."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. The company announced to the stock exchange that full investigations of the proposed site would begin on Monday. Charlie will begin work on lengthening his barge on Sunday afternoon and so by Monday morning the bow section will be cut off."

Kitty giggled. "God you guys are like little kids playing in the sandpit. But what happens where security begins firing shots?"

"We abandon physical resistance apart from one guy operating covertly. In difficult terrain like down on the end of the island, one guy could take on fifty infantrymen and hold them at bay through guerilla tactics."

"And who is that guy?"

"I have no idea. Oh I might soon be away on tour for a few weeks darling."

"Gus Marks if you get yourself killed I'll be very cross with you."

"Oh baby, what's the hazard in looking at boat repair work around the country?"

"God you are very bad, a very bad boy. But I accept someone has to try." 

"That's the spirit darling. Now let's see about getting you pregnant. That's what you want isn't it? Tell me what to do."

"I haven't thought about it really."

"And what if I call you a very bad liar, a very bad girl liar?"

"I have no idea of what you are talking about. Would you like coffee?"



CHAPTER 2

There was a huge row at the ferry landing on Monday when the mobile drilling rig and five support trucks towing mobile homes and two cars carrying some armed security guys in clearly identifiable uniform arrived around 9:30.

"This operation is costing thousands of dollars a day and you say your barge is out of operation."


Fury Over Nuke Plant Plan



"Yes pal, sorry pal, routine work," said the ferryman. "Cessation of the public service was advertised in the Townsend Gazette as required under my terms of license. I'm adding an eight-foot extension."

"What the hell is the Townsend Gazette?"

"Our local newspaper pal. Last week's edition was super big, sixteen pages."

"This dump really has to be experienced to believe," snarled the crew boss. "How deep is the tide over the sand bar?"

"About this time of the tide, about a foot deep on average pal, three feet in scoured holes."

"Come on everyone," said the boss. "We'll go across the sand bar. Joe you wade ahead of us. Now don't get drowned, do you hear?"

"Yes boss."

News spread like wildfire and half the town turned out to watch. The two schools were temporarily closed to allow the kids to watch this operation because it was rumored the ferryman had forgotten to mention the patch of quicksand that people could walk across okay but not vehicles other than bicycles.

A constable hurried down and attempted to warn the angry crew boss but was told to mind his business and get on with crime prevention and to investigate the ferryman for suspected undisclosed crimes.

Perhaps 5000 townspeople had gathered to watch the crossing.

Some of the women wolf-whistled when the lead guy removed his boots, socks and pants and began the walk through water, moving at no more than 2 mph. The truck motors began to over-heat, as there was very little airflow to cool the motors at that crawl.

Wally Crooks, the crew boss, sat in the lead vehicle, the mobile test bore drilling rig. About 200 yards out, the end vehicle, an older truck, critically over-heated and its motor seized, stalling the vehicle. The other vehicles continued on.

At 270 yards out the drilling rig suddenly began sinking and the driver blared the horn. The guy walking in front to test the water saw the over-hanging boon of the telescopic drilling tower coming down towards him and so dived out into deeper water.

The onshore crowd cheered, being highly entertained.

The crossing was completely stalled.

A heavy duty towing truck arrived from the city and pulled the tail-end truck back on to dry land, allowing the three other trucks to reverse back to dry land. The towing truck, now working on drying out sand because the tide was almost at full ebb, hitched up to the lead truck and slowly began pulling it out of the patch of quicksand, the vehicle assisting with drive on three sets of its rear wheels plus the two steering front sets

Finally it too was back on dry land.

The drilling boss got the ferryman Howie Street to allow his guys to use their two welding machines to help Howie affix the extension plates to the main hull and then to weld the detached bow back on.

Howie was delighted about that because the other guys were professional welders and did an amazingly good job.

Nine hours later the last of the trucks drove off the ferry on to the island. It was almost dark so the crew decided to camp the night in the ferry landing parking area.

Two days earlier, Gus had lunch at Dirk's Bar and told everyone who'd listen he'd be away for a month touring boatyards around the country.

Gus was involved in a one-punch fight when Ted Wilkinson said, "Well can I service Kitty while you are away?"

Ted came around ten minutes later and rubbing his jaw apologized to Gus for being 'unduly flippant'. They shook hands and Gus bought Ted a beer.

When the trucks arrived, Gus was on a high vantage point watching the chaos and thought little wonder it took about ten years to build and get a nuke plant operational. Those guys were hilarious. Hadn't they asked was the sand bar negotiable by vehicles?

That night the two armed sentries guarded the vehicles that were lit by spotlights powered by a noisy generator were silently 'incapacitated'. The truck tires were then let down so they didn't explode when they slashed to make them unusable.

The alarm was raised by a sentry regaining consciousness but alas, too late.

"That's 56 tires ruined," groaned Wally Crooks the crew boss, pulling at his hair.

"More boss, the bastards also dealt with a number of spare wheels."

"I'll murder the bastards with my bare hands," the boss yelled. "John make up a list of tires we need and get someone to double check your order. Christ our budget is taking a hit before we even get started and we'll lose two or maybe three days over this by the time the tires arrive, are carried over by that incompetent ferryman and are fitted."

The cops arrived but found nothing. Any footprints left by the saboteurs had been walked over by the crew milling around.

Gus had walked five miles to the derelict hut in the small abandoned quarry on the mainland side of the island and fell on to the bunk, yawning. It had been a tough mission. Letting the air out of sixty or more tires including spares and then systematically using a batter-powered saw to slash them had been long and exhausting work He'd interrupted that work three times to check on the guys he'd clubbed, to make sure they were breathing okay and were not likely to be yelling for help any time soon. He yawned as he munched two chocolate bars, drank from his water bottle and fell asleep. 

Late next morning he ate his packed bacon and egg sandwiches, cleaned up so not a trace of occupancy was apparent, and then left, crossing the island to his hide-out cave where he cast out a line to catch a fish for dinner. Relaxing he opened a beer, knowing it was feeling like being back in the early 1990s gathering intelligence in Herzegovina when he had been on exchange to train with the British Army. At least in this mission he wouldn't be shot at on sight, at least he hoped not.

Next day he went across country with his small chainsaw and two packs of remotely detonated explosives he'd fetched over to the cave the day after he first began building a cache of supplies. After this round of harassment he knew it would be unsafe to travel cross-country in daylight and the bastards would soon have the advantage of night-vision equipment if the military were called in and helicopters would be sweeping at nights with infra-red cameras and if he managed to become more troublesome, ground searches would commence and probably the sea lanes would be monitored and then the caves might be searched.

Oh well, someone had to stop the bastards.

He hid his equipment in bushes.

Early that evening he beached his RIB (rigid inflatable boat) in the rocky cove, the next inlet before Gunship Bay, and climbed the steep hill and went down the other side and knocked on the front door of a fairly isolated collage.

"Who is it?" called a female and Gus grinned when he heard the metallic sound of a gun being cocked. Kitty reckoned Jennifer wore a knife strapped to her leg under those long dresses potters favored in case an intruder got between her and her rifle.

"Gus you bastard," he called, grinning, knowing that's what she'd called him the last time she'd missed the last ferry over to the island and the tide was in the way in. She'd called and asked for a bed, turned down his first offer and slept on the sofa instead. But during the night Gus carried her to his bed because Kitty was staying with her aunt and uncle that night.

As he'd sunk his head between her thighs she'd yelled, by then wide awake, 'Gus your bastard' but hadn't resisted. She'd been a schoolteacher with Kitty until leaving to work fulltime on her craft.

Jennifer opened the door, rifle pointing to the ground and with the light illuminating him said, "Oh growing a beard are we?"

"Yeah, still shaving pussy are we?"

"Gus you bastard. That's no question to ask a lady," she giggled.

Inside after they kissed deeply, she looked at him closely and said, "Was it you who cut all those tires? The media is having a field day... they appear to be on our side."

Gus put a finger over his lips and eyed her intently.

"Oh yes. My lips will be sealed, I promise. I get the picture. When did you last eat?"

"About ninety minutes ago. I had fish."

"What with?"

"More fish."

"Oh you poor darling. If I feed you will you sleep with me tonight?"

Gus grinned.

There didn't appear to be any point in shaving but he thought she'd prefer him shaved so he used her electric shaver and then clipped hair around his dick and balls with scissors for a neat look.

Jennifer was already on top of the bed, nude. She was a little plump but had energy to burn so who cared about tummy roll?

"God let me lick the brute," she said, wetting her lips until she was drooling.

Gus had long found good women usually were good with cock and Jennifer was a very good woman.

He stood obediently by the bed grasping a handful of tit and squeezed gently as she went to work. He swept her mousy colored hair from her eyes repeatedly and she stared at him while she sucked and worked her tongue until Gus threw his head back and he groaned.

She pulled away and said she'd not get him off because he would be light on fuel, having spent all that time alone masturbating when not out on a mission.

Bitch, he grinned but didn't mind. Jennifer could be quick an exciting girl when she put her mind to it.

She smirked.

"You have been very effective, earning all sorts of abuse. Tonight you may take me front and rear.

Gus' mouth watered and now he was dribbling.

They had more sex before dawn and he asked Jennifer would she like to join him on a mission... they were unlikely to be detected.

She nodded enthusiastically and while she prepared breakfast Gus went for a run along the beach.

They ate and left the dishes. Jennifer drove him to the hill above the ferry landing and stopped. Using binoculars Gus examined the busy scene below.

"I figure they'll be ready to move out before noon. Take me out to Henchman's Ravine."

After Gus retrieved his equipment from under a sheet of black plastic, he cut the under supports of the plank-decked bridge and then cut almost through the stringers that supported the decking. Jennifer watched anxiously as he calmly walked back across to her. He then cut the supports on that side and right through the stringers on top of the buttress.

"Anyone in the leading truck will be killed trying to cross that bridge in that state," she said, wide-eyed.

Gus grinned and then put the chainsaw in her car and returned and danced on the bridge swinging from side to side and as it began to shift to one side gave an extra swing to that side and jumped to safely. 

Jennifer, eyes watery, cried. "You take such huge risks." 

They watched as the slide continued and then, with the stringers cut leaving the bridge 'floating', it finally toppled sideways and smashed on to rocks about 20 feet below.

Back at the bridge they'd crossed earlier she watched as he took the two explosive packs from his backpack.

"What's that?"

He just smiled.

"Omigod it's explosion stuff and we have been driving with it in the car."

"It's safe when inert like this."

"I don't believe you. You're a maniac. God why do I allow you to fuck me?"

Gus thought of her pussy and then recalled the images of her with her mouth open and calling 'Fuck me, fuck me.' And so he knew why; he could ring her bell.

"It becomes potentially explosive when I arm the packs with these things. I can detonate them remotely. Drive us back behind that big hill over there. We'll want to home before a chopper arrives with crew looking for culprits."

"Will I see the explosion?"

"Yeah providing you don't fall asleep. I'll blow the bridge once the leading vehicle has stopped at the other ravine."

"Omigod, how exciting. I feel like having sex."

As Jennifer was wiping herself with her panties they heard the 20-wheel drilling rig grinding along.

"Put your panties on."

"They're wet."

"We don't want them falling from you and then super sleuths tracing me by the DNA from samples of my semen deposited on your panties."

"What?"

"Just joking. But if they fell out of your pocket they'd know a female had been here."

"Oh yeah," Jennifer said and pulled on her panties.

"Keep your head very low to the ground. They may be scanning the area around them with binoculars."

They watched the vehicles halt half a mile farther on at the site of the demolished bridge.

Gus pulled out the radio controller from his backpack and asked, "Want to blow up the bridge."

"God no, I'd die of fright."

He turned the sprung-loaded dial and there was a big boom and whole planks were thrown into the air. The bearers were fractured and slowly they gave way under the weight of the decking and the structure fell about 10 ft into the stream.

Gus said firmly, "Keep you head low."

"Oh fuck, they're shooing at us," Jennifer cried as the first round of shots rang out.

"No they don't know where we are. They are just shooting wildly in scare tactics and to ease their frustrations. Come on, slide down and be careful with pussy."

"Good girl, let's kiss and get out of here. You go home and I'll head for the cove and then to my hideout."

"Which cave are you in? I might feel like sex."

"I'm heading for the boatshed."

"Liar but I guess it's best I don't know. Keep safe darling."

"Thanks and oh, don't mention this to Kitty."

"What being in bed with you?"

"No being on a mission with me. Tell her that and she'd have kittens."

"My lips are sealed Gus. Thanks for the excitement and thanks for the sex."

The drilling project was delayed a further five days until two more structures were built on the existing piles and buttresses across both ravines.

The day after dealing with the bridges, Gus, patrolling the right flank to give the impression if detected he was hiding out on that side of the island. He spotted a party from the drilling team walking towards the lagoons. They rested when arriving and then spent five hours including rests, using maps and taking GPS readings to find locations and drove in pegs. Finishing that work they had a beer and began the long walk back, leaving their rubbish thrown on the ground.

"Desecrating litter-bugs," Gus growled.

Once they were clear Gus pulled out all the stakes, filled in the holes, and then drove the stakes into similar formations on the other side of the biggest lagoon. He was laughing away as he carried out this work and returning to where the stakes had originally been driven in was delighted he could see them quite clearly in their new unofficial position. He almost wet himself anticipating the anguish of the investigatory team next day.

Gus hid in a patch of low bushes next day and just as well because the engineers and technicians arrived in a helicopter accompanied by a press team in their helicopter.

Using his binoculars Gus saw one of the guys looking around for the pegs and then saw him look across and then shout and point to the pegs on the other side of the lagoon.

Wally Crooks was jumping up and down and had thrown his hat on the ground and was stomping on it and the bemused reporter watched as his cameraman filmed the comical scene.

There was an argument between the Wally and the cameraman and the reporter stepped between them, the cameraman still filming.

Wally backed down and went off and kicked the skid frame of the chartered helicopter and the pilot remonstrated with him.

The press headed off and the site investigation team boarded their much larger helicopter and it made several widening circles as if looking for the bastard who'd shifted the pegs and then it too headed off. Gus waited fifteen minutes making sure that helicopter didn't make a sudden return and then headed to his cave. From there he went in the RIB the cove and took the risk to go to Jennifer's cottage in daylight.

She was outside taking in dried washing and saw him approaching.

"You're taking a risk."

"Yeah I want to see TV news. What I did yesterday and was discovered today could be a news item."

"Oooh, let's go in and have a drink. This sounds like more fun."

It was the lead item on TV news and the news staff had done a good job documenting all the harassment that had happened to date and then the presenter said, "And now the most tantalizing disruption in terms of absolute ingenuity."

"Presumably yesterday a person or persons unknown watched engineers locate the propose site of the core of the proposed nuclear plant and pegged it out, the pegs represented test drilling spots. This site had been carefully calculated after study of aerial mapping together with a form of terrain analysis gained from aerial surveying commonly used by mining and mineral prospectors. Today when the investigatory team went with a news team from this TV channel to the site, they found every peg was missing. And then to their astonishment they looked across this lagoon, and here we go, look carefully viewers and you'll see the pegs as our cameraman increases the telescopic power of his camera lens. They there are, clearly visible now and 250-years away on the other side of the lagoon."

"Now here's the super-annoyed drilling boss Wally Crooks coming across to my cameraman Tony Amoretti demanding all of the film that had been taken be handed to him for destruction. Watch what happens..."

"No way," said Tony.

Wally became even more aggressive and the Phil Lucas the reporter stepped in and said, "We were invited here to film and we have filmed. End of story."

"You guys are out to perpetuate public perception that these guys harassing us illegally are some kind of public heroes. Well that is just bullshit, complete bullshit. Get on your chopper and get the hell out of here your parasites," he said, looking furiously at Tony who'd continued filming. "Come on, [bleep] off."

In the chopper Phil was filmed slumped in his seat. "Well that was a laugh a minute for a while before the drilling boss turned nasty. That guy ought to receiving training in public relations. So the fight by the Okahu Islanders in having a nuclear power plant built on their back doorstep continues and these irritating delays must be costing the investigation company heaps. Sadly there is a criminal touch to some of the tactics being used against the drilling crew. No way does is it the intention of this TV station to portray those ghostly opponents that no one including the police so far have seen, as heroes. We are reporting events straight down the middle. The disturbing thing is the resistance appears to be slowly turning nasty. Slashing tires and removing survey pegs on Government property and destroying two bridges on Government property are no laughing matter. At lease not publicly."

"That TV reporter will get a roasting over that final comment," said Jennifer who was now sprawled over Gus' lap and undoing his shirt buttons. 

Gus spent the next three days mainly loafing around the house although he did paint the walls and ceiling of Jennifer's bedroom and the fixed breakfast and lunch and cleaned up afterwards. On the fourth day when she awoke for sex he was not beside her. She felt where he'd been and it was only mildly warm. Obviously he'd left before dawn.

Gus had given the crew time to set up the rig and begin drilling. This was S-day, 's' for shoot. He collected the sniper's rifle and climbed up a hill overlooking the site.

The drilling rig was operational with the water tank set up and presumably full. For all he knew drilling could have progressed for at least a day. It didn't matter. This was the day the drilling crew would crap themselves.

He saw the drilling boss sitting on a chair back on to him, reading a report or perhaps writing one. A tin coffee mug was sitting on the box beside him.

There was no wind. Gus estimated the distance, adjusted the sights, took careful aim and fired and smiled when he saw the coffee mug leap off the box and heard the boom of the shot echoed across the land.




Fury Over Nuke Plant Plan



Where the fuck was that guy Wally, the boss? 

Gus grinned when he looked on the ground and saw Wally crawling away on his belly. Guys were running around shouting while others came out of their mobile homes with rifles and began shooting indiscriminately.

Gus then settled back to business and planted five shots low down and well apart in the water supply tank and through the telescopic sights saw five spouts of water flowing. Guys everyone where racing to hide believing they were under fire.

He'd fired six shots and so scratched around until he'd pocketed six empty cartridges cases and retreated down the hill, aware the guys below would be looking at the holes in the tank and working out the direction from where those projectiles had come from. As the ground flattened out he loped to the coast where he'd left his RIB and quickly motored back into his water cave that ran up steeply from 20 feet in to finish well above high water. Near the rear it connected a higher cave that opened out almost at the top of the cliff face. He slept up there because it was dryer and it offered an emergency exit involving a short cliff climb or a dive into the sea.

The tide was well in and so Gus spent time fishing out of the mouth of the lower cave and landed two good-size fish and another larger one snapped the line and got away. He didn't mind because he preferred eating smaller fish but there always was the desire to see the fish before it escaped. If it was big then how big was big? 

Next morning Gus was climbing up the cliff face from a cove on the far side of the lagoons at dawn, having rowed past the outlet of the larger lagoon in flattened out land between the cliffs quietly to avoid making noise that would carry in the still air. 

At the top of the northern cliff he checked using his binoculars and could see the camp was stirring. The sun rose behind him and he liked that because he'd be very difficult to spot.

Gus settled in and popped a piece of gum into his mouth and waited patiently. Well he had nothing else pressing to do.

He though Jennifer was improving at fucking, although would she'd never be as energized as Kitty because with all her road cycling and punch-bag training Kitty was very fit and ate foods that promoted high energy release. Even so Jennifer was a lovely woman and a pleasure to chat to and really loved to talk after sex instead of rolling over to sleep liked most women do. He liked that.

Gus stiffened and used his binoculars. He watched the drilling boss Wally giving orders and pointing in the general direction of the hill where he'd fired to scare the shit out of Wally yesterday.

The guys strolled off and climbed to the top of the two neighboring hills overlooking the hill he'd used yesterday and they both settled into a prone position.

"You bastard Wally," Gus grinned. "Setting them up to ambush me should I return today."

Well he'd have to be careful. They were almost 1000 yards away.

He waited till the guys in the camp were having breakfast and then settled into a prone position and then fired, sending a bullet into the ground on the left-hand side of the guy on the left and then pumped another one to the right of that guy who jumped up, turned and held his hands high into the air.

The guys at the breakfast table were probably scattering but there was no time to look. Gus pumped a bullet into the ground a yard to the right of the head of the other guy who threw his gun to one side and remained prone, hands behind his head.

Gus sensed he wasn't safe so pumped two shots near the base of two big drums of gasoline and loping and keeping low down headed to the cliff top. He'd just got to the RIB when he heard a chopper coming in fast so started the motor and headed up to the northern end of the island and went into a sea cave.

He heard the chopper circling and although he never saw it guessed the doors would be off and two guys attached to safety harness would be leaning out and looking, rifles at the ready. They would probably be ex-army, hired security guys who were marksmen. 

So things were hotting up.

He chose to remain in that cave all day and was glad he'd packed a loaf of bread and a packet of cheese from Jennifer's kitchen as well as a big bottle of water and two bottles of beer.

At 10:00 he rowed to the southwestern side of the outlet of the lagoon and beached on gravel so there would be no signs left to suggest the saboteur had come by boat. He went stealthily past the camp that was set back a bit to escape some of the noise of drilling to the two gas drums and smiled. The two bullet holes had been bunged. Standing in ground saturated with gasoline, he pulled out the bungs with some difficulty and with a big smile placed them carefully on top of the drums where they would be easily seen in the morning. It was better than a calling card. 

He then fiddled around with the big Detroit diesel pulling off bits of wiring and wrenched off four bits that hopefully were vital for the running of the engine. On the way back tossed those bits at intervals well out into the lagoon. He got back to his boat undetected, keeping on hard ground all the way in the hope of not leaving footprints and rowed off until he considered it was far enough away to start the motor and cruise quietly.

Guy knew he'd now had to take a break for a few days so went to the entrance of Gunship Bay and rowed in and left his boat with other RIBs and lugged the motor up to Jennifer's cottage. It was 1:15 and he felt he could eat a horse. But he was unable to wake Jennifer and decided against making enough racket to wake the dead as neighbors might think she was being molested.

He put the outboard motor under cover and in Jennifer's shed placed his covered rifle on the potting bench and sat in her big armchair she used for resting and went to sleep.

In the morning about 8:00 he awoke to soft kisses and the smell of coffee.

"Hi, food please," he croaked.

"You stole my last loaf of bread and my cheese," she accused.

He smiled at her guiltily and yawned.

"Bad boy, very bad boy," she said, and he wondered where he'd heard that line before.

"Oh no," she said smiling. "The boy is an unsung hero. It was reported on late news on TV last night and a group of self-appointed vigilantes had attacked the drilling camp yesterday morning, almost killing two workers with gunfire that fortunately missed them, and their supply of gasoline had been shot at and then last night the big engine of their drilling rig had been vandalized in a daring raid and it could be up to a week before some of those parts could be replaced. My god, you are amazing."

They were having breakfast when a neighbor came over with the morning newspaper.

Gus slipped off to the bedroom.

"Hi Kim."

"Hi Jennifer. I brought the newspaper over for you to read about what our so-called Ghostly Action Hero has done to the enemy. The investigators are being driven near insane by his disruptive tactics and even had armed security guys up in a helicopter yesterday looking for him. The helicopter had to put down in rough terrain when returning to base when running low on fuel. Several thousand dollars of damage occurred during that landing when the rotor hit as tree when the helicopter lurched when part of the landing gear dug into a fissure and collapsed."

"Oh we didn't know that."

"We?"

Jennifer said weakly, "I meant I hadn't known that."

She avoided looking at Kim who pounced.

"Omigod he's here with you isn't he? You're a great friend of Kitty's. Royce was peeing off our balcony just after 1:00 this morning when he saw someone coming into the bay rowing a RIB and then lug the outboard up the beach. Royce checked on the RIB this morning and reckoned it was Gus Marks' smallest RIB. Gus is the vigilante isn't he and he's hiding out with you?"

"Oh Jesus Kim, you better come in."

A little distressed Jennifer called, " Gus come out."

Gus emerged and said, "Hi Mrs Arnold."

"Good morning you handsome hero. People are coming to the conclusion that the Ghostly Action Hero as the media is now calling it, must be you because it is being carried out so professionally. Some of us were aware you were in the military abroad in covert activity."

"Do the authorities know I am the guy doing damage?"

"So you're not denying it?"

"No but in telling you that is the identity of action man safe?"

"You should know people in this region like and respect you. Why would they rat on you?"

"Well it probably doesn't matter. I'm meeting increasingly stronger counter-attacks. The bastards attempted to set up a cross-fire trap for me yesterday morning so it's likely they'll get me soon, dead or alive."

"So that attempted entrapment is why you ran amok?"

"Mrs Arnold if you want to keep the enemy on the left foot you keep turning the screws to apply psychological pressure. Um can I trust you?"

"Or what? Hold me hostage or cut my throat?"

"Mrs Arnold you obviously watch too much bad TV. I just want to feel Jennifer is safe, that's all and I'm running low of outboard fuel."

"Of course she is safe from finger-pointing to the authorities or those vile drilling people and their security thugs and yes your identity is safe. I'll only tell my husband and get him to set up some sort of signaling system to allow you to know it's considered safe to enter the bay."

"Oh excellent. Perhaps he could switch on a shielded red light when he knows I'm out there somewhere if he believes no suspicious people are lurking?"

"Could it be a blue or orange light? I have no wish to have a red light displayed on my house for obvious reasons."

They laughed.

"So young man, you asked if I could be trusted? For almost a year after the tragic drowning of your mother, I supplied your father with all the sex he needed. Your father and I and now you two are the only people who know that secret. Obviously I trusted you guys enough to tell you that secret to demonstrate my ability to keep my mouth shut."

"You're A1 with me Mrs A."

"Thank you Gus."

"And me Kim."

"Thanks Jennifer. I'll get my husband Jimmy to talk to you about fuel Gus. Perhaps he and you could hide a reserve fuel supply down at the beach away from the boats and next day he could top up the container you leave behind?"

"You seem suited for a career in crime planning Mrs A."

Jennifer could see that Kim, who was nine years younger than her husband, really liked Gus. Well didn't most people? She invited Kim and Jimmy over to dinner that evening.

CHAPTER 3

Returning to his cave just after dawn, Gus checked the knee-high black cotton threat he'd stretched between the cave walls three days ago just above high water mark.

It was intact.

Well so far so good. This was probably the last time he'd use this cave and would be his last mission and most dangerous one. It would be deemed the worst criminal act against the drillers to date and that would probably lead to the Government calling in the military to guard the drilling operation.

He was in position because he thought the drilling company might now have a coastal watch operating and just then heard a low flying chopper. Gus ran up the cave and into the other cave and looked out at the top entrance and saw an Army chopper go by with an observer with binoculars inspecting cave entrances and probably another would be looking out the sea.

Exactly an hour later the chopper returned making a similar sweep and then there were no more. So when would the next sweep occur? He grinned and thought psychological tactics.

He ate the meat loaf salad Jennifer had made for his lunch and drank the half-size bottle of red wine and then slept till evening. He warmed the Irish stew Mrs A had made for him and had that with more salad and packed everything back into the IRB and removed all signs of habitation including the two ends of the cotton line he'd broken when entering the cave. Working backwards he used his thick hunting jacket to sweep the sand clear of footprints. If he were captured alive he didn't want the prosecuting team finding evidence to use against him to argue he'd planned all of these harassment attacks. Gus believed Judges didn't take kindly to planned crime.

Just as he was about to leave to land just short of the lagoon outlet the fucking chopper came by low again.

Well that probably meant it was the safest time of all to go and he hared after it, leaving the tide to wash out his boat launching marks.

The way the guys in the chopper were positioned meant they didn't have rear vision. Although he couldn't match the chopper for speed he was zooming along within cover of its wretched noise and so wouldn't be heard on land. He landed on the stony beach under reduced power because the noise of the helicopter was fading.

The plan was to blow up the rig, making an emphatic statement of local opposition to building of a nuclear power plant on Okahu Island, an act of extreme civil disobedience that would receive huge publicity, if successful, going right to the heart of Government.

The opportunity to do this had come by a sheer stroke of luck.

Jimmy Arnold, Mrs A's husband, was an ex-Navy diver and had trained in use of underwater explosives that included training to use of available materials when stocks of primed explosives ran out or had been captured.

Jimmy had made Gus a bomb without having to buy actual explosives that could have led to Jimmy coming under investigation. One of the principle ingredients purchased was a particular common garden fertilizer Mrs A got for Jimmy when in the supermarket over at Townsend.

The packaged was handed over to Gus very carefully, Jimmy warning that home-make explosive devices were notorious unstable and many failed or performed very poorly. He'd spent time drilling Gus of how to proceed with care and how to give the device the best chance of doing its job effectively.

"You have four main tasks ahead of you," Jimmy finished by summarizing. "Place the device successfully, denoted it, get the hell out of there and hide successfully."

"Yes sir."

"What's happened to Jimmy?"

"Sorry I was acting like I was back taking orders."

"Yeah well I can't think of a better guy to send in with this package. Don't get yourself killed."

* * *

Gus went along the side of the lagoon outlet, keeping on hard ground to try to avoid leaving incriminating footprints.

Reaching an observation spot he casually tossed the explosive device to the ground and froze, mouthing oh shit.

There was no explosion. Not as unstable as Jimmy suggested they could be eh? Perhaps it was a dud? Still the guy who found it unexploded in the morning would probably come close to cardiac arrest and send a panic signal to everyone in the camp.

He lay beside the explosive device, ignoring it, and looked at the camp through his night glasses.

They obviously had eaten and looked cozily relaxed, probably exchanging filthy jokes that they had no opportunity to indulge in at home.

He turned to pick out the drilling rig and his mouth fell open.

It wasn't there!

He felt cheated.

All this for nothing.

He checked around for sentries and spotted none and on the final sweep to take in the far side of the smaller lagoon breathed "Gotcha."

The rig was over there. But why?

Well he didn't have to know.

He walked back to the IRB with the explosive device, wondering what the effect would be if someone shot him. He launched the boat and rowed to the outside of the lagoon outlet and walked into the rig after checking and finding no sign of guards.

Working carefully, knowing noise would carry in the stillness, he opened the drainage valve of the big fuel tank supplying the big Detroit engine and the foul smell of diesel spilling on to the ground hit his nostrils. He tipped over and opened the two reserve drums of gasoline used on the water pump motor and another two motors under the drilling platform. Gus then set the package he was carrying in a gap under the big engine and then got out of there, the fumes from spilling gasoline and diesel making him feel queasy.

Gus put to sea in the RIB and leaving the motor idling stood and opened the crude safety cap over the button and pressed it to transmit the radio signal.

It worked.

There was a huge explosion, lighting the area for a hundred feet around the rig and he saw pieces around it flying off in all directions and then the tower toppled and hit the ground with a thump.

He sat, gunned the motor and fled southwest.

No shots were fired at him. He imagined the camp was in bedlam.

Speeding along in just enough moonlight that he'd waiting two nights to be in the right position, Gus was able to keep sight of the cliffs and that helped him to maintain his course through the sea that in this area was riddled with rocky shoals.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, came the thunder of a powerful motor and a searchlight switched on.

"Fuck where did you come from?" he shouted aloud.

The first sweep of the light was stupidly high above him.

He spotted the second coming and ducked flat and it just went over him.

"Oh-oh. It's probably a naval patrol boat. I don't stand much of a chance and certainly only with a slight chance of out-running them."

The third sweep of searchlight caught him, continued to arc around and then returned and fixed on him.

"Oh shit."

A stern voice over a loudspeaker called, "Sailor in the RIB. Heave too. You are under Naval investigation."

"What the fuck is that," Gus yelled, knowing he wouldn't be heard.

He turned out to sea, anticipating the patrol boat would change course to keep the fugitive between it and land.

"This is your final warning. Heave to or we'll ram you."

Gus was relieved. That was preferable to being shot at.

There was no breaking water, just the sudden rocky uplift that often caught boats he would be asked to repair. It would be shown on the charts on that naval vessel and they could have some underwater sonar detection gear. But in a chase anything could happen and right then he heard the vessel's motor or motors rev much higher and looking back saw nothing of the big bastard, being temporarily blinded by the searchlight.

A light gun was fired and tracer bullets arched over it and then CRASH! The patrol boat hit Taylor's Mistake as the uprise was named on charts from ancient days. Captain Taylor probably holed his big sailing ship at that very location.

The searchlight was beamed high into the sky. Lights went on all over the patrol boat and an alarm hooter sounded.

As Gus raced away he wondered that would be a lovely mess to repair but it was unlikely he'd be given the contract for a number of reasons.



A red light was showing on Arnold's front deck and Jimmy was waiting on the beach for Gus.

Surprised, Gus asked, "Did you hear the explosion?"

"Did we what?" Jimmy grinned. "I reckon it would have been heard twenty miles away. House alarms were set off here around the bay and I guess over at Townsend alarms are also going off. The sole night cop will be pissing himself thinking pirates are invading us."

Gus carried his outboard motor up to the grass and then he and Jimmy unloaded the RIB and he and Jimmy carried it up to place alongside the RIB with the nameplate taped on a pontoon: Jimmy Arnold. They carried the craft rather than drag it and leave telltale marks. Jimmy then taped a nameplate on the pontoon of Gus's RIB: Kim Arnold, to foil any investigators.

They took everything to Jimmy's house and the motor was placed beside Jimmy's.

Jennifer kissed Gus deeply and said she was so pleased he was safe and then Kim kissed him and handed him a cup of coffee and said she was so pleased he was safe. Gus kissed her and she looked ever so pleased.

"There's your bicycle," Jimmy said. Gus pedaled through the sleeping spread-out community at 2:15 am and the tide was low as he rode across the sandbar whistling.




Fury Over Nuke Plant Plan



It had been a great evening. He assumed the naval boat would be okay if it had watertight compartments because the top of Taylor Mistake's Reef was relatively flat and he hadn't seen distress flares go up. The boat was probably jammed into a crevice and the crew were lining up at the toilets.

Jennifer was a great organizer. Kitty was waiting for Gus near the mainland end of the sandbar.

She kissed him, tears streaming, and said many people were up and looking at the island, guessing the Phantom Action Hero had blown up the drilling rig.

"Yeah that figures."

"Darling," she sniffed. "I'm sorry but you are done for. Everyone I talk to seems to think it's you."

"Well someone had to do it. The Government accepted recommendations that a power plant go there and that was that, to hell with community opinion. I can understand that thinking because if it's not put here it goes somewhere else and meets just the same objections."

They drove out to Kitty's aunt and uncle's retirement home on a headline overlooking the island. The lights were on when they arrived although it was gone 3:00.

"There's been a big explosion at the drilling site," said Aunt Jo who invited Gus to call her Aunt Jo. "I learnt tonight we were to harbor a fugitive and will love to do that as our contribution to the opposition to the nuclear power plant that will totally destroy the natural beauty of that beautiful part of the island. Many of us had assumed Mr Good Fellow was you. Kitty told us when we first met you that you'd been employed in special services intelligence work in Eastern Europe."

"Ready for a beer son?" Uncle Bob asked and smiled when Gus' eyes lit up.

"There's going to be hell to play over this. We didn't see the explosion but saw the aftermath fire that only extinguished half an hour ago. You have committed a major criminal act that could see you incarcerated for perhaps twenty years, perhaps less."

"Which is worse, blowing up a drilling rig or causing a naval patrol vessel chasing me to ram rocks and be put out of action?"

"Omigod," Kitty said. "You didn't?"

"I bet he did," Aunt Jo said in obvious delight. "Well Bob and I know practically everyone on the island and in town through having owned and operated the supermarket in Townsend for eighteen years until we sold it three years ago. We spoke this evening to Roderick Black who has a holiday home just along from here. He's one of the best legal brains in the country and has agree to represent your legally without charge as his contribution to opposing the proposed power plant being built on our beautiful island."

"Thanks, that's lovely. It could lead to my sentence being reduced by say five years and that would be something. I should talk to him about facing the court, receiving my sentence and then seeking an appeal and while waiting for that to be granted to seek a pardon from Parliament on the grounds that I acted under extreme provocation in the interest of the wider community. There might be precedents relating to that sort of pardon in respect to motivations behind civil disobedience."

"Well I don't know," Aunt Jo said doubtfully. "Perhaps you should flee the country."

"I think it's worth Gus discussing options before surrendering to the law or disappearing overseas," Kitty said.

Bob said yeah, that made sense. "If he vanished you'd lose your lover."

Kitty flushed and eyed the floor.

Gus had watched that reaction and said, "Are you pregnant?"

Kitty hesitated and colored again. "Yes I was waiting till you settled before telling you. For obvious reasons you are tightly wound."

Gus held and hugged Kitty and kissed her neck. "Well that's it; I'm not running."

Fifteen minutes later they went to bed. Aunt Jo had already put the young couple in the guest room as she'd done when they'd stayed on previous visits.

As Bob was grunting bending down to remove socks Aunt Jo said, "We'll have to call a public meeting."

"I've already decided we should do that. How about telling me what next for our hero apart from keeping his head down in the meantime?"

In the guestroom Gus emerged from the bathroom and Kitty spread her legs wide in eager anticipation.

"What's this about a baby then?"

She explained at this stage it was only early days in conception. However she was hoping for a girl.

Gus came closer, eyeing intently as she stroked a breast and bent over the proud nipple.

"Well we best get deep into it and try for twins. I won't mind if they're both girls."

She giggled and said it didn't work like that and pulled him down eagerly because she'd been without sex for a long time and thought probably he had gone without as well unless he'd managed to get lucky.

Later when Kitty was asleep, held in his drying sweaty embrace, Gus was anxious that his feeling about himself hadn't change. Although a kid was probably on the way, er his and Kitty's baby, he didn't appear to have changed. He was surprised he wasn't feeling he was a father and heading toward becoming a family man.

He worried and wondered whether he ought to nudge Kitty awake to discuss this abnormality in his make up. He was very tempted but she was sleeping so peacefully and in fact appeared to be right where she wanted to be, in his arms.

Gus began to smile thinking this situation was no different to when he had his thirteenth birthday. He'd awoken that morning expecting everything to be different now that he was a teenager when it fact nothing had changed. It was perhaps a month later when he called a 12-year old a kid that he remembered smiling and thinking yes he was thinking like a guy who was no longer a kid. Unhurriedly and in fact unaware of the gradual metamorphosis, he'd changed from kid to teenager. Probably when he first saw his baby he'd change into being a dad. Gee that was really cool.

Aunt Jo brought in coffee in the morning and opened both widows wide without saying anything embarrassing about the room air quality. She handed him the newspaper and said, "Read all about yourself my hero. Kitty you'll have to be out for breakfast in fifteen minutes to be off in time for school."

"Yeah okay," she said, reaching under the bedclothes to see if she could find a boner.

"I apologize for the coffee stains on the newspaper Gus. Bob kept splattering coffee when reading he was laughing so much. The way the articles are written are not very sympathetic, in fact they appear quite anti-drilling company and anti-Government. If that slant reflects public thinking then we really could have a flow of solid support to get something going to keep you out of jail."

Gus thanked Aunt Jo, she left, and Kitty found something sticky and flaccid that she dropped rather hastily.

They both read the front page of the newspaper.

The heading read, 'Drilling Rig 'Nuked', Newest Naval Ship a Casualty in Chase'.

The reporter wrote that after blowing up the investigatory drilling rig on the proposed site of a nuclear power plant on Okahu Island, north of Auckland City, the so-called Ghostly Action Hero almost got away undetected. 

He wrote, "But the New Zealand Navy's newest inshore patrol boat, the 180 ft 340-ton HMZS Raglan picked up the suspected Ghostly Action Hero fleeing and gave chase. The 36-member crew knew it was only a matter of time before the bomber was apprehended or ripped to shreds by 12.75 mm machine-gun fire if he failed to stop."

"The sole occupant of the RIB, making a determined effort to outrun the heavier vessel that was making 25 knots. It was caught in the beam of one of the Raglan's searchlights and as the RIB abruptly changed course and pushed out to sea, warning shots were fired well above it. And then without warning HMNZS Raglan hit a presumably uncharted reef and came to an abrupt stopped. Crew members were thrown about in the impact and all suffered slight to moderate inquiries."

"A gaping hole was torn underwater in the bow of the patrol boat but closed bulkheads prevented water flowing aft and sinking the $36 million vessel. She was wedged in the reef and her night was over. Commander James Richmond, in pain with a huge gash to his face and several teeth missing, gave orders for everyone to put on lifejackets and go to their emergency stations on deck. He then gave the order to call for a naval tugboat."

"Meanwhile the Ghostly Action Hero, who couldn't be held to blame for incompetent navigation by trained officers in the naval patrol boat, zoomed away in the RIB of the type many of us own to go out fishing at weekends, possibly a 3.2 m craft with a 15 hp outboard motor and costing us under $15,000 new. A bigger RIB with a larger motor would have out-run the patrol boat, no problem."

"This incident will be of huge embarrassment to the Navy and the Government."

Another story quoted the head of the drilling project bemoaning the loss of a $750,000 drilling rig and saying seven of his 22-man crew on the drilling project had resigned and walked off the job.

Reporter: How is the drilling project going Mr Bridger?

Mr Bridger: Terribly because we are behind schedule and unexpected costs have blown the project budget sky high.

Reporter: Costs incurred as a result of the harassment of opponents to building a nuclear power plant on their pristine island?

Mr Bridger: Partly and those costs have now become enormous with the loss of the rig. But they are not the main contributor to escalating costs.

Reporter: Oh and what is behind those escalating costs?

Mr Bridger: I'm not a liberty to say. Now you must excuse me. I have a crisis to deal with.

The newspaper also reported police from other centers were being rushed in to help cordon off the northern end of the island where the drilling had been disrupted.

Another story said a man James Richard Jones had been arrested after claiming he was the Ghostly Action Hero. But he was charged for drunkenness and wasting the resources of the police when four regulars at that bar gave signed statements that Jim Jones was in the bar drunk at the time of the massive explosion on the island.

Meanwhile, journalists from around the world began arriving to cover a story that was deemed to have more readership appeal than the current crop of stories about opposing forces slaughtering one another in countries experiencing civil unrest, beauty contestants falsely claiming their breasts were 100% God-given, ten former motor racing champions announcing successively their comeback to the sport and dire warnings that mankind activity was accelerating Global Warming, such tub-thumping being accompanied by the dismissive claim that the current rash of blizzards should be ignored as being an aberration of nature.

The incoming foreign journalists became rather rude to the police who were unable to give a description of the Ghostly Action Hero. They were frustrated beyond belief when learning they could not interview the chairman of the Committing Opposing the Nuclear Power Plant on Okahu Island because no such committee existed and indeed no other form of organized protest, passive or otherwise, existed.

Those journalist where highly agitated they were barred from going to the drilling site, that the authorities were incompetent and local people were exalting a hero that none of them had witnessed in action or knew of his or her identify. But true professionals will follow up on any lead, however slender.

Three reporters, veterans of attending many international hot news outbreaks, thought they were on to the first real news story when they learned in a bar that a Mary Smith was claiming to have come up with the name, Ghostly Action Hero. They grabbed a cab and went to the address and found it was a private nursing home. The person in charge refused them entry and said Mary Smith was always coming up with fanciful ideas and didn't have much idea of what she was talking about because she was in an advanced state of dementia. 

Down but not defeated, the three journalists got drunk and then dressed in black track suits they crossed to the island on the 9:30 pm ferry. When leaving the illuminated landing area for the test drilling site, planning to slip through the police cordon, they put on black hoods and three hours later realized they'd lost their way and stumbled into Artisan's Village. They were promptly attacked by dogs trained to deal with night intruders and were treed. Armed residents ordered the guys down from the trees and when finding they were foreign journalists made then buy paintings, silverware and pottery at greatly inflated prices in return for being ferried back to the mainland. Later that day those three journalists boarded aircraft to Auckland and that evening took flights home empty-handed, presumably assuming in that country of morons that Ghostly Action Hero, possessing such finesse and guile to cause such mayhem single-handedly, had to be a foreigner possibly a Russian Mafia hit-man.

That day Prime Minister Tom Ascot called an emergency Cabinet meeting where he ripped a strip off his daughter, the Hon Pansy Scott who, as Minister of Energy, carried the can for the Government being ridiculed nationally and now inter-nationally because a Los Angeles newspaper was claiming the Ghostly Action Hero was not ever a New Zealand but rather a Russian Mafia hit-man.

"Right guys," said the PM. "We cut our losses. Any ideas?"

The Minister of Women's Affairs sent everyone into near hysterics when she suggested, "Jail that bastard who's running around attempting to ape Rambo... if you can find who he is."

Late afternoon all TV channels began advertising the Prime Minister would be making a State of the Nation address at 7:00 pm from Parliament on the troubles on Okahu Island.

Tom Ascot spoke gravely in making the very short announcement.

"The Government has abandoned plans to build a nuclear power plant on Okahu Island. We emphasis it was only a proposal but there's been a right cock-up and heads will roll over this. The first point is initial results from the continuously disrupted test drilling program show the ground strata on that end of the island is totally unsuitable to carry the weight of any heavy construction. The land is honeycombed with caves and fissures and soft layers of ancient sediment are likely to liquefy in the event of an earthquake. The second and most disturbing reason behind abandoning this proposed plan to underpin the future integrity of our national electricity supply is the following alarming late finding. The proposed site is only on average six feet above mean high water mark, easily accessible by only a moderate tsunami triggered by submarine earthquake occurring anywhere in the Pacific Ocean. We regret the anxiety this extremely tentative proposal has brought on the people of Okahu Island and the town of Townsend."

"It is now proposed we delay building this country's first nuclear power plant. Instead we are authorizing electricity generation companies to build hydroelectric dams on any waterway with minimal restrictions. Rights of appeal and application of the Resource Management Act will be suspended in relation to such proposals. The State Electricity Commission will have the sole authority to approve or reject applications for new hydro schemes subject to any veto by the Minister of Energy. Those damn self-appointed forest and bird and national park conservation groups have gained too much say over the past 100 years and in many respects have held back development in this country by 110 years. That is all. Thank you."

Bob and Jo and their two guests cheered and Bob said, "Come on let's go to Townsend. There will be dancing in the town square and a big party will develop."

That was true. The party was already in full swing by the time Bob and his group arrived in town.

People saw Gus was with them and he was mobbed, the townspeople were chanting, "Hero, hero."

"What for you now Gus, a knighthood?" someone shouted.

"Perhaps in 30 years when he's released from jail," called Sergeant Plank pushing thought the crowd with two constables at his side.

"Guthrie Marks, I am arresting you on the charge of disturbing the public peace. More serious charges will follow."

"Oh come on Jack, be reasonable. Don't be an idiot and be bawled out by the Crown Prosecutor for indulging in wrongful arrest. Name your evidence that shows I have been a bad, bad boy?"

"Everyone knows you were the Ghostly Action Hero."

"Oh is that so Jack. Name me just one witness who can identify me as the Ghostly Action Hero or who has seen my indulging in any criminal act."

"We are still gathering evidence."

"The good women of Okahu Island and the town of Townsend, where was I at the times of those dastardly criminal acts?"

A huge roar went up, causing dogs to bark up to sixty miles away.

"You were with me," chorused about 7000 women.''

"I rest my case Sergeant Jack Plant."

"Oh I do declare I possess overwhelming evidence the Ghostly Action Hero could not have been you Guthrie Marks, also known as Gus Marks. All these fair ladies here tonight appear willing to vouch for that. You are free to go about your business. My boat is one of those awaiting your attention. Carry on everyone and enjoy your evening. Tonight has been a momentous occasion for the people of this county."

"What will you do now Gus?" someone asked.

"Oh return to my boat repair business and marry Kitty. She's pregnant."

"Oh god," Kitty said, deeply embarrassed.

THE END