Free Lights Out!--A heist thriller involving the Mafia by Donald Bain Page A

know, a little fuzzy. Tell me again about this idea of yours.’
    Smythe slowly and carefully outlined the plan. At a specified day and time Saison was to create a glitch in Power-Can’s generators. This disruption needed to last only a few seconds before the power company’s antiquated mechanical switches, overwhelmed by the power surge, began to shut down the grid that provided power from Toronto southward and westward, cutting off the flow of electricity to Chicago and Cleveland, Buffalo, Boston, New York, Washington DC, and Baltimore. The sudden blackness would be instantaneous. Smythe estimated that it would take a minimum of six hours for engineers up and down the grid to trace the cause back to the Power-Can plant, probably longer if past blackouts were any gauge.
    â€˜Make sense?’ Smythe asked when he’d finished going over the plan.
    Saison had listened intently, his only interruptions an occasional belch or grunt. He got up from the table, went to the kitchen, and returned with a bottle of French table wine and two glasses. Smythe watched with amusement as Saison filled both glasses and handed one to him. ‘How much you say for me?’ Saison asked.
    â€˜That depends on how many franchises I can sell,’ Smythe lied.
    On his way there he’d considered giving Saison a lower figure than the quarter of a million dollars he’d originally offered. The drunken Frenchman would probably be happy with half that amount. But Smythe also knew that as much as he found the Frenchman personally offensive, he needed him. Everything depended upon having someone inside Power-Can with enough knowledge of the complex electrical system to cause the blackout.
    There was another dimension to Smythe’s thought process regarding money. Now that he had a commitment from Martone for a million, two hundred fifty thousand, he’d begun to question whether it was enough to finance his escape to Argentina and to support the sort of lifestyle Gina would expect. Every additional dollar he could squeeze out of the deal would be that much more he had to finance the luxurious lifestyle he envisioned for himself and his lovely Argentinean lover.
    â€˜A hundred thousand,’ Smythe said.
    Saison glared at him. ‘You said more, a quarter of a million.’
    â€˜That was before I made my deal with the money man, Paul. He cut down on what I get, so I have to pay you less.’ Saison started to protest but Smythe added, ‘Hey, Paul, when was the last time you saw a hundred thousand dollars in cash? Think about it. You can pay your debts, dump Angelique, and find a new and better place to live.’
    Saison growled and pouted.
    â€˜All right,’ Saison said, ‘I’ll make it a hundred and twenty-five thousand. All cash, upfront, in your pocket. That’s a good payday for tripping a couple of switches.’
    Another grunt from Saison.
    â€˜OK,’ Smythe said, ‘I’ll sweeten the deal. The money man is paying me a percentage of the profits once they reach a certain level. Between you and me, Paul, I plan on leaving Toronto once the blackout occurs. You can have my percentage of the profits.’
    â€˜How do I get that?’
    â€˜I’ll tell the money man who you are and have him pay my share to you.’
    â€˜Where are you going?’
    â€˜That’s a secret.’
    â€˜You’re leaving your wife?’
    â€˜Let’s just say that I’ll be starting a new life. Enough talk. Do we have a deal or don’t we?’
    Saison brought his glass down on the table with enough force to cause half its contents to spill over the top. ‘No, Smythe. You said a quarter of a million. You want me to put my neck on the line for less? No deal, Smythe. What good is what you say this money man will give me after it’s over? You think you’re the only one who’ll take off, be gone? You think I’d be stupid enough to stay around. I’m