{"id":424,"date":"2020-06-10T10:28:59","date_gmt":"2020-06-10T17:28:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/?p=424"},"modified":"2020-06-13T08:48:33","modified_gmt":"2020-06-13T15:48:33","slug":"the-gold-game","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/the-gold-game\/","title":{"rendered":"The Gold Game"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Tuscorora Nevada, a booming gold mining town in the 1860\u2019s, stirs to life when prospector Desert Pete and aerospace finance executive Rod Stearman exploit state-of-the-art technology to recover millions the old timers never could.  But when a Hazmat scare threatens to expose the operation, and a forensic accountant uncovers criminal activity in the aerospace company\u2019s finance department, Pete and Rod must scramble to stay ahead of events.  Loaded with action and intrigue The Gold Game\u2019s original plot engages the reader right to the final plot twist.




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            Rod Stearman sat in a weathered rocking chair his eyes fixed along the length of the Tuscorora valley, watching the setting sun change the colors of the sky, valley floor, and the surrounding mountains from gold to orange to blue to purple.  Desert Pete sat on an identical weathered rocking chair, his eyes peering through binoculars fixed on the Hazmat truck and its dust trailer, aimed at the gold refinery at the valley\u2019s southeast corner.  The truck stopped at one side of the refinery.  Two uniformed men jumped from the truck, while two refinery employees appeared from nowhere to greet them.  Pete\u2019s binoculars weren\u2019t good enough for him to determine what the four did for the next half-hour, but it had to do with transferring whatever was in the truck, through a hose, into the building.  \u201cBah, they\u2019ve done it again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cDone what?\u201d  Rod asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAll the times I\u2019ve seen them pump stuff into that building, I\u2019ve never seen them take anything out.  Where does all that nasty stuff go?  Into the ground and into our well water I\u2019ll bet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

             \u201cHey, you run the place, what happens to all the used Hazmat stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI can tell you that GMR goes by the book.  Whatever it is we\u2019re supposed to do with that material, we do it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cBut you don\u2019t know, do you?  You could dump that stuff straight into the ground if it were legit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI\u2019m sure we don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cBut you don\u2019t know, do you.\u201d  Pete snorted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Rod stayed quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI thought so.  I\u2019ll bet we\u2019ll be drinking that stuff in our well water before very long.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cPete that refinery may sit isolated out here in the Tuscorora, but it is the world\u2019s most advanced gold processing facility.  The entire refinery uses robots for every internal gold purification operation.  The factory\u2019s staff consists of two men and they only worked day shift, five days a week.  I assure you, there is no hazmat issue.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rod chuckled when he thought about the building\u2019s security systems.  They made the Nevada High Security Prison in Ely look like a sandbox.  No unauthorized anything made it in, or out, of NorAir\u2019s Tuscorora facility. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe shall see,\u201d Pete said.  \u201cWe shall see.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

                        North American Aerospace – NorAir most called it – arrived in the Tuscorora Valley four years before.  They leased  a twenty by forty mile block of land that included the entire valley, and the foot of the mountain sides that drained into the valley.  A part of that included the ghost town of Tuscorora, once an important  gold mining town, now with no stores, no school, and no utilities, nothing commercial at all.  Six of the town\u2019s lots were current on taxes, out of reach of the Bureau of Land Management, and not leased by NorAir.  Desert Pete owned one of those lots, with a house perched almost at the top of a hill above  the valley.  Rod bought another, the grand old Victorian  perched atop the highest point in the town.  He found  getting construction crews to make the sixty mile drive from Elko difficult.  In three years he\u2019d  restored the outside, but almost nothing inside.  Pete, a full time resident  and doing much of the work himself, completed his.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Rod never considered himself a desert person.  A San Diego beach town native and financial expert, he now lived in an ocean view house in Manhattan Beach, and commuted to his job as CFO of the Space Operations Unit — known to all as SO — of NorAir.  Before SO\u2019s plan to build a spaceport, and choose the Tuscarora Valley for it, Rod never visited any desert other than Palm Springs.   To defer some of the spaceport\u2019s construction costs, NorAir decided to start a Gold Mining and Refining, or GMR, operation.   This small refinery worked the gold flour from valley floor locations where NorAir built some facility or another.   Only when the job of managing GMR become a part of Rod\u2019s responsibilities, did he travel to the Tuscorora Valley.  Now, he and Pete were the sole Tuscororans, the ones with inhabitable houses, and proud owners of Tuscorora real estate..        <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            When the shadows grew long enough to cover the entire valley floor, the two men retreated into Pete\u2019s house and turned on the lights.  Rod\u2019s solar system, too ugly for the roof of his Victorian, sat on the hillside between Pete and Rod\u2019s houses.  Connected to Pete\u2019s place and his system, electricity was ample all year long, but both houses also boasted back-up gas generators.  The two shared the septic tank leach field, the well, and a propane storage tank.  Pete joked that they ought to start their own utility company. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYou on the two-ten flight out of Elko Sunday?\u201d  Pete asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYes.  The regular finance meeting happens on Monday no matter what.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cGonna stop by Danny\u2019s?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI think so.  This weekend wasn\u2019t great, but there\u2019s maybe an ounce and a half of dust and a couple nuggets.  Enough to warrant a stop.  I guess I\u2019ll leave about ten.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cTell him hello for me,\u201d Pete said.  \u201cThe potatoes are in the oven, it\u2019s about time to light the barbeque.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The man the Northern Nevadans called Desert Pete — once known as Pete Ameche — and Danny Costa went way back.  They met in third grade and stayed friends.  After high school, Pete went to college, got a masters degree in accounting, and went to work for the south side boss, Big Frankie.  Pete worked his way up to  controller, but when the government used a flaw in one of Pete\u2019s shell companies to bring down Frankie\u2019s sweets business, Pete fled, settled in Tuscorora, and assumed the persona of Desert Pete Smith.  Danny started with Big Frankie out of junior college, made store manager, and then buyer.  He avoided the sweets retaliation, but agreed to an outpost in Big Frankie\u2019s laundry business.  Danny set up his Gold Trading and Casino store in Elko a few months after Pete settled in Tuscorora.  A year later Danny\u2019s reputation claimed he knew everybody who was anybody in Northern Nevada.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

             With  all his chores and  shopping done, Desert Pete stopped at the Gold Mine Casino, talked  to the cashier, and planted himself in the restaurant booth farthest from the slot machines on the casino floor.  A half a beer later, Danny slid in next to him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cHow\u2019s the laundry business?\u201d  Pete asked.  \u201cHung anybody out to dry lately?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI\u2019m so busy, I need another two Chinamen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            They both laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI did get a couple extra loads from Chicago.  Big Frankie must have had a little trouble in another store. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWhat can I do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Pete took a swig from his beer bottle.  \u201cI know this sounds weird, but I got this itch.  Those gold refining guys out in Tuscarora use a lot of Hazmat, acids, cyanide, that sort of stuff.  I see it trucked in, I never see it trucked out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI want to hire somebody to go out there and find out where all the used Hazmat goes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Danny shook his head.  \u201cYou\u2019re crazy.  We\u2019ve all got a great deal out here.  Don\u2019t mess with it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYeah, I know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cBesides, those guys have a boatload of money and the government on their side.  You upset their apple cart  and they\u2019ll squash you like a bug.  They\u2019ll blow your whole cover.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI know, I know, Danny.  I don\u2019t want change, I just want to find out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Danny sighed, slid out of the booth, and said, \u201cWait here, I know somebody.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Five minutes later Danny came back, put a three-by-five card with a name, address, phone number, and e-mail in front of his friend.  \u201cHere\u2019s your guy.  He\u2019s over in Carson City.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The Carson City strip mall sat behind a parking lot, well off the street, but the sign next to the stop light listed all the tenants, including one called the Ecological Investigative Service.  Pete parked one storefront over, knocked on the door, and walked in.  A fit, tanned, man of about thirty-five sat in front of a computer screen.  He waved, motioned to Pete, and continued at his keyboard  for another three minutes.  Pete looked around the office.  Diplomas, one a BS in Biology, another a BA in criminal justice, and a third a Masters in Mining, hung on the wall behind the desk.  Surrounding those were his Private Investigators License, and various certificates from the states of Nevada, California, Utah and Idaho.  All bore the name Joe Woodland.  Pete felt he\u2019d walked into a lawyer\u2019s office. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            When Joe lifted his eyes from his computer screen he saw a lean, short man, no more than five-foot-six in his boots, with a bushy salt and pepper beard.  A tanned face displayed protruding cheekbones.  A black, wide-brimmed floppy hat, plaid flannel shirt, and faded jeans held up by a wide belt completed the picture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Hazel eyes riveted Joe\u2019s attention.  Set deep below bushy eyebrows they stared out like a pair of laser beams.  All Joe could think about was that he\u2019d hate to sit across from this guy in a poker game.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Joe stood, his six-foot-two frame towered over his guest, offered his hand to Pete, and said, \u201cHello, I\u2019m Joe Woodland, Ecological Investigative Services, welcome.  What can I do for you mister, uh \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSmith, Pete Smith.  Danny Costa recommended you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThank him for that for me, and please sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cHe says you\u2019re the one to help me with a Hazmat problem.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThat\u2019s a big part of what I do.  What\u2019s the problem?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Pete explained the situation with the gold refining operation in Tuscarora, and his concerns about the disposal of the material.  Joe listened intently.  When Pete finished, Joe said, \u201cLet\u2019s see what they\u2019re licensed for.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Joe punched the keys on his computer.  \u201cI see they\u2019re licensed for use and storage of a variety of Hazmat materials.  It looks they covered any chemical that anyone might ever use to refine gold.  My, my, they could store enough of this stuff to refine all the gold in Northern Nevada if they wanted to.  This doesn\u2019t say what they use, or how much of it, just that they can do whatever they want to.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Several computer strokes later, Joe said, \u201cNot a word here about disposal though.  They either have someone else do that for them, or they\u2019re illegal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI knew it!\u201d  Pete blurted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSo, Mister Pete Smith, what would you like me to do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI want you to find out how they\u2019re getting rid  of all that stuff.\u201d
            \u201c Okay, here\u2019s my rate card, and it\u2019ll take a trip out there, so there\u2018re expenses involved too.  I\u2019ll need a retainer now, and bill for the rest when I\u2019ve submitted my report.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Pete reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt, took out a plastic vial about half full of gold dust, placed it on Joe\u2019s desk, and then added two small nuggets beside the vial.  Joe then removed a small scale from a desk drawer, poured the dust and nuggets on it, said, \u201cTwo point seven ounces.  Do you agree?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Pete nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Joe went to the computer, pushed a few keys, and said, \u201cAt today\u2019s spot price, your gold is worth thirty-four hundred and forty dollars.  I\u2019ll put that as my retainer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Joe then took a standard form from a desk drawer, filled in the price, date, and a brief statement of the task.  He signed it, and handed it to Pete, who read it and signed next to Joe\u2019s signature.  Joe then ran a copy, and gave the original to Pete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cOkay, I\u2019ll be out there sometime next week.  Give me your address.  The report should be there in a couple weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Pete said, \u201cWhat if it shows they\u2019re into something illegal?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThen we\u2019ll get together and decide what to do.  As a rule, it\u2019s a cease and desist order from the court, but until we know, I can\u2019t say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            After the two men stood and shook hands, Joe said, \u201cYou\u2019re the one they call Desert Pete, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThat\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cLooks like the prospecting out there in Tuscorora is pretty good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cIt was much better before NorAir took the valley floor.  Now you have to know somebody, or scramble out in the back country.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Joe smiled.  Funny, he thought, how people think of things.  To him, Tuscorora was as far out in the back country as it was possible to get.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[\/toggle]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Tuscorora Nevada, a booming gold mining town in the 1860\u2019s, stirs to life when prospector Desert Pete and aerospace finance executive Rod Stearman exploit state-of-the-art technology to recover millions the old timers never could. But when a Hazmat scare threatens to expose the operation, and a forensic accountant uncovers criminal activity in the aerospace company\u2019s finance department, Pete and Rod must scramble to stay ahead of events. Loaded with action and intrigue The Gold Game\u2019s original plot engages the reader right to the final plot twist.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-424","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-senior-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/424","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=424"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/424\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":518,"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/424\/revisions\/518"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=424"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=424"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dlakewriter.com\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=424"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}