“Eight minutes,” said Shirvan, staring at his watch.
Inselheim made a fist to stop himself rubbing his finger and began pacing back and forth.
“Stop fretting. It’s going to be fine, Mr. Inselheim,” said Shirvan from a distance.
Inselheim sniggered to himself. If Shirvan knew how bad their situation really was, he would be pacing right next to him. In reality, the very survival of the company was tied to the success of the Neutralaser project. They had nothing to fall back on. The test had to succeed — no exceptions.
Inselheim looked up at the crisp blue sky, beyond which over 1,000 operational satellites belonging to dozens of countries were in orbit. This would be the Inselheim Group’s fifth rocket launch for the month. So far the cover story had held up, but they were pushing their luck. It had been over twenty-four months since Inselheim publicly commissioned the short-range ballistic missile project as a way to disguise the Neutralaser. No eyebrows had been raised yet, but it was a matter of time before the phone calls started pouring in from both East and West. Inselheim was proud of his cover project idea. It was a stroke of diplomatic genius. He had gifted his team something to test with as well as an excuse to fire rockets without raising suspicion. Far from adding yet another missile to the arms race, however, Inselheim was going to shock the world by revealing the device that would put an end to the threat of nuclear destruction. Most importantly, he was going to immortalise the Inselheim name. When all was done, the history books would extensively cover the life of Michael Inselheim; son of Thomas Inselheim and saviour of the world. He only wished his father would have been around for the moment.
His phone began vibrating in his pocket, disrupting his daydream. It was Brunswick.
“Hello, Kimberley,” he said as he put the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Michael,” said Brunswick. “How are you feeling?”
“Cool as a cucumber.”
“Five minutes!” came Shirvan’s voice from behind.
“Liar,” said Brunswick.
“You?” said Inselheim.
“I’m nervous.”
“Liar,” said Inselheim with a slight smirk, which was the closest thing to a smile he had experienced in months.
“Well, nervous, but still confident,” said Brunswick. “The team is in good spirits. That helps.”
“Elias Khartoum called,” said Inselheim flatly.
Brunswick sighed, then went quiet.
“What did he want?” she asked.
“He wants to do a cash pick-up this Monday. A fee of 250,000 euros as penalty for falling behind.”
“They’re tightening the screws on us. What are we going to do, Michael?”
“I’ve got the money. I’ll fly back and meet him. Let’s just get this right.”
“We will. I’ve got to go. The team’s ready for the launch.”
“Three minutes!”
“Ok.”
As Inselheim hung up, the gravity of the situation hit him. The lightheadedness came back and an ominous fear descended over him, causing his heartbeat to speed up. It had been a gruelling ride, which began when he slowly lost his grip on everyday company operations, becoming more and more engrossed with the Neutralaser project. As the Americans and Russians innovated beyond expectations, the Inselheim Group was uncharacteristically slow to respond. The worst blow was having to recall their newly released transport helicopter. Costly on-site repairs had resolved nothing. They had to redesign the fuel system from scratch, his engineers told him. After months of disruptions for his clients and the fatal crash in Ukraine, the lawsuits began. He had been warned early about the potential problems, but he had fooled himself into believing that his team would find a way to solve them. As the mistakes and costs piled up around him, he continued to roll the dice and grew more obsessed with finishing. Now he had no more rolls left.
Making matters worse was that bloodsucker, Kalakia. There was nothing more Inselheim could have done to keep him in the dark. The Neutralaser team did all of their work in the remote underground facility. Documentation and communication remained in-house and the facility had no internet connection. Inselheim had even refused to allow public road access. Paranoia was a must when it came to Kalakia. His people were everywhere, and Inselheim was sure he had been tailed earlier in the week on his way to the office. The Inselheim Group was by far the most profitable company in Germany and had been on track to overtake the mighty American weapons manufacturers in turnover. The more the company grew, the more demanding Kalakia had become. Half a million per week in extortion money became three million. Now Inselheim was coughing up over a million a day. The one time he tried to negotiate a reduction, he got a cracked rib courtesy of Kalakia’s enforcer, Elias Khartoum. Inselheim had no choice. He would have to fly out early in the morning to make it back to meet him.
“Ready for launch, Mr. Inselheim.”
Shirvan, Inselheim and the rest of the team put on their protective goggles and stared out into the flat, brown desert in anticipation. Inselheim tensed his jaw and held his breath.
“Ok,” began Shirvan. “Launching in.. 10.. 9.. 8.. 7.. 6.. 5..”
“Come on,” whispered Inselheim, curling his hands into fists.
“4.. 3.. 2..”
The nuclear-capable ballistic missile launched in the distance with a bright red-white trail of burning fuel behind it. It climbed steadily through the sky, shrinking gradually, continuing to rise until a bright blue beam shot out from the ground at an angle and caused a blinding flash of light to explode over the horizon. The rocket and its burning trail disappeared. Inselheim’s jaw slowly fell open. Dumbfounded, he turned to Shirvan, who was on the phone with the field team. When Shirvan hung up,
