The unstoppable vengeance of Micheal Krux.

Chapter One The Pinnacle

Michael Krux POV

I am only twenty nine years old and the entire country was screaming my name.

One hundred thousand people packed the National Stadium in Capital City, all ready to witness history being made.

The air smelled of hot dogs, beer, pure electricity and excitement written all over people’s face.

Giant screens flashed my face in 8K while the loudspeakers blasted sings of praises for such achievements and history that was about to be made.

I felt like a man who had finally built something the world couldn’t ignore.

At the center of the stage, the Krux Phoenix sat under white spotlights like a sculpture carved out.

Pure arctic white body built with no grille and no exhaust.

A car that drank sunlight and atmospheric ions and never had to stop. Ever. It was the launching of the first ever solar powered car that doesn’t use fuel or battery.

Forbes had already run the cover: “Michael Krux: The Man Who Killed Oil.”

President Daniel Harrow stood on my left in a navy suit that brought out his bright face and made him look more authoritative than ever.

He grinned at the camera while he whispered, “You sure this thing won’t blow up on me, son?”

I understood his concern, it was the first car of its type, and he would be launching it himself, it’s fair that he’s a bit concerned.

I gave him the same smile I used on nervous investors.

“If it does, Mr. President, at least you’ll die in the fastest car on Earth.” I joked,

The president didn’t find that funny by the bombastic side look of his face. I only gulped and prayed silently that nothing of such would happen.

I was sure nothing would happen because I personally ensure every thing was perfect, however, one can never be too cautious.

The crowd continued to cheer, oblivious to the tension that passed by the short conversation.

On my right, my wife Layla looked so beautiful in her one piece custom made jump suit she prepared specifically for this event.

The bright wine color complimented her blind hair, making her shine bright and capture attention as she stood beside me, this alone made me the happiest man on the earth today.

As if knowing what I was thinking, she squeezed my hand so hard her diamond ring bit skin.

She leaned in, lips brushing my ear as she spoke, “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Her perfume was the same one she wore the night I proposed to marry her, making me glad of my decision to marry her that day.

I couldn’t help kissing my wife right there and then, on global television, deep and slow, I didn’t care what anyone said, she was my wife, and I’m so lucky to have her.

The crowd seemed to cheer even louder as the video was displayed on the big screen. My wife blushed from ear to ear, and I was happy to still have that effect on her even after three years of marriage.

Soon, Cameras flashed white-hot.Ten seconds to ignition.

I lifted the ceremonial chrome clicker that would send the Phoenix on its victory lap.

A stunt driver in full fireproof gear sat behind the wheel.

The President had wanted to drive it himself until the Secret Service threatened mass resignation, stating it would put the president in possible danger, thereby affecting the state of the entire country.

Five seconds.The stadium lights dimmed until only the car glowed.

Three.

Two.

One.

I pressed the button.The Phoenix woke with a low electric howl that vibrated in my bones.

It rolled forward smooth as silk, tires humming on the polished track.

The crowd lost its mind as we watched it accelerate, 0 to 200 in four seconds, clean as a bullet.

And then, at the third turn, the world turned white.A silent flash first.

Then a WHUMP that punched the air out of every lung in the stadium.

The Phoenix left the track, flipped once, and became a rolling sun, first releasing magnesium-white flames, then chemical orange, then a black cloud that swallowed everything.

My ears rang.

My heart forgot how to beat. On the jumbotron the replay looped in merciless slow motion: the exact moment a hidden second battery pack (military-grade thermite) turned my revolution into a bomb.

One hundred thousand phones pointed at me at once.

I looked for Layla. She was already thirty feet away, being pulled backward by her father’s security team.

Her mouth was open, screaming something I couldn’t hear.

Gabriel Luxter, my best friend since we were twelve and also a coworker, stepped in front of her, put an arm around her shoulders, and guided her toward the exit tunnel and she let him.

I didn’t understand what was happening or why everyone was suddenly running away from me, I looked around to see that President Harrow was gone, vanished inside a wall of black suits.

Federal agents in windbreakers appeared from nowhere with rifles low but ready to fire.

I needed to go and find out what happened to the car. It was supposed to be smooth today, but the lead agent grabbed my wrist before I could move.

“Michael Anders Krux, you are under arrest for the attempted assassination of the President of the United Atlantic States.”His voice boomed across the stadium PA.

Every screen cut to my face. The cuffs snapped on so tight the metal bit bone as they dragged me past the burning wreck.

The driver was still inside, melting into the seat.

I tasted smoke and copper where I’d bitten my tongue.And somewhere in the roar of the crowd I heard the first chant start, ugly and raw:

“Lock him up! He tried to kill us,”

“Lock him up! He wanted to introduce us to our death”

“Lock him up! He almost killed the president”

I didn’t look back, there was nothing left for me to see again because In thirty seconds I had gone from the most powerful man on Earth to public enemy number one.

And the people I loved most hadn’t said a single word to stop it.