Outside the gates of the Transphase factory, hundreds of National Guard troops, FBI agents, and state and local law enforcement had amassed, ready to annihilate the “traitor” known as Don Aaron. Apache attack helicopters hovered menacingly above. He had been branded a primary cause of the massive power blackouts that had already decimated California, and that would probably strike again. His day of reckoning had arrived.
Sitting alone in his office, an ever-defiant Aaron looked for guidance to a framed photograph on his desk, that of his grandfather. “This time it will be different, Grandfather,” he again promised the inanimate picture. The photo offered no counsel in response.
Everything he had tried to achieve—that his energy efficiency company had achieved—now lay in figurative and impending literal destruction around him, a victim of the electric utilities and their government protectors.
Or did it?
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