“Where does Gogstad fit in?”
“The way it was set up, the Colorado River system would be run by a bunch of separate companies working together.”
“Spreading the wealth?”
“That was the idea. Only problem is, every one of these companies is secretly owned by Gogstad.”
“So Gogstad has control of the Colorado River?”
He nodded. “They’ve been doing the same thing on a smaller scale all over the country. They’ve got contracts to extract glacier water in Alaska. They’ve expanded their reach into Canada, which has the major sources of water in North America. They’ve nailed down control of most of British Columbia’s water. Before long the Great Lakes will become Gogstad reservoirs.”
Zavala let out a low whistle. “That’s scary, but it fits right in with globalization, the concentration of economic power in fewer hands.”
“Sure. Taking ownership of a country’s most precious resource is entirely legal whether we like it or not. But Gogstad doesn’t play by the rules, and that’s even scarier.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll give you one example. Congressman Jeremy Kinkaid fought the Colorado River bill tooth and nail and was threatening congressional hearings to rescind the legislation. He died in an accident.”
“Lots of people die in accidents.”
The reporter extracted a map of the world from his pocket and unfolded it on the table. Speaking almost in a whisper, he said, “See these red squares? Don’t bother counting them. There are dozens.”
“Gogstad acquisitions?”
“In a manner of speaking. As Gogstad expanded it ran into established players, the companies and municipalities that controlled the water in other countries. In many cases a rival resisted Gogstad’s overtures.” He tapped the map. “We correlated the data on the acquisitions with information on company personnel. Every place where you see a red square the acquisition coincided with fatal ‘accidents’ among the corporate hierarchy. Sometimes top executives simply disappeared.”
“Either Gogstad is using street gang methods or it is very lucky.”
“You figure it out. In the past ten years it has assimilated transnational water companies in France, Italy, Britain, and South America. It’s like the Borg, that alien race in Star Trek that grows in power by absorbing other species into its collective. It’s acquired water concessions in Asia and South Africa—” Cohen stopped his breathless recitation. His eyes darted to the door. He relaxed when a woman and a child walked in.
Zavala raised a brow, but he said nothing.
“Sorry,” Cohen said. “This whole thing has me as paranoid as hell.”
“A little paranoia can be a healthy thing, my friend.”
Cohen dropped his voice to a whisper again. “We may have a mole in the news department. That’s why I had you call on my cell phone.” He fidgeted nervously with his spoon. “A lot of weird stuff has been happening at the paper.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Nothing I can put my finger on. Files out of the order you put them in. Strangers in the building. Odd glances.”
“Are you sure it’s not your imagination?”
“Others on the team have noticed the funny stuff, too. Hell. Are my jitters that obvious?”
“You’re even making me nervous.”
“Good, I want you to be nervous. I don’t think Gogstad would think twice about getting rid of anyone standing in the way of its goal.”
“Which is?”
“It’s clear to me that they want to control the world’s fresh water supply.”
Zavala pondered the pronouncement. “That’s a tall order. What they’ve done in North America and Europe is pretty impressive, but can any one company corner the world’s fresh water?”
“It’s not as hard as you might think. Fresh water is less than one half of one percent of the world’s total water stock. What remains is seawater, or it’s locked up in ice caps or in the ground. A lot of our water is too polluted to use, and the world needs more of it every day.”