“Pennsylvania’s law allows it, and the fact is, you can own the surface rights of your property, but not the mineral rights. Lobbyists and politicians strike again.”

Chris picked up the second packet, looking at the date, 2010. It was scientific testing of some type, attached to a letter.

Dear Sir,

We demand that Frazer Gas, the PADEP, and the EPA cease and desist their drilling! They have destroyed our property and made us sick, especially my elderly father! We demand justice and we have proof! You can see by this report that the air is contaminated and killing us and our horses and dogs!!!!

Chris flipped to the report, skimming down the list of chemicals:

BTEX (benzene, toluene, ethylbenzene’, m-xylene, p-xylene, o-xylene); carbon tetrachloride, chloromethane, methylene chloride, tetrachloroethylene; trichlorofluoromethane …

The Rabbi continued, “The Shanks claim that as soon as the fracking started, their farm went to hell. The air turned bad, the water turned bad, and Frazer Gas and the state government ignored them. The state eventually conceded on the water quality when it caught fire.”

“The water burns? Is it methane?” Chris turned to the next letter, also to Frazer Gas:

… You give us water buffaloes but that’s barely enough for us to drink but we don’t have drinkable water for the horses and they all got so sick after you started drilling they were bleeding out their noses, losing weight, and refusing their grain until they died of starvation!!! My hunting dog died the same way …

“Evidently. The same thing happened in Dimock, if you heard about that. So the Shanks and their neighbors complained and complained, and the state finally sent in some water buffaloes.”

“Water buffaloes?”

“It’s not an animal, it’s a big tank of potable water. The water buffalo was for the family, not for the animals, and the Shanks had horses. They had no choice but to give the horses the water from the well, and over time, the horses got sick and died, except for one.”

Chris felt for the Shank family and understood their grievance. Whatever the cause, it would’ve been disastrous to lose their farm and animals. He kept reading the letter.

… You sold my neighbors a bill of goods. You made our lives a living hell and now our houses are worth nothing. Nobody will buy them and we can’t even move away. Your landsmen told them they would be getting royalties from the drill leases and that was a TOTAL LIE. They have yet to see a dime. You would say anything to get what you want, and that is a TOTAL CRIMINAL FRAUD that you perpetrated on …

“They have forty-five acres, you’ll see it out back. It’s all open until you get to the well pads drilling the neighboring farms. It’s not a pretty sight.”

Chris looked out the window of the bedroom, but all he could see was darkness, and above it, the moon beginning to thin to transparency. Monday morning was on its way. He returned his attention to the letter:

… You were aided and abetted by the government! You know who to pay off and you have your lobbyists lining the pockets and kissing the asses of the politicians in Harrisburg and Washington. That is not LEGAL AND IT IS NOT JUSTICE. You don’t care if you ruin family farms like ours. The Shanks have been in Pennsylvania since day one! Do you even know that William Penn named our beautiful Commonwealth Pennsylvania because that means Penn’s Wood? He wanted it to be full of trees, not drilling pads …

“Then about two years ago, the father, Morris Shank, develops nosebleeds, nausea, headaches, heart trouble. The Shanks start a letter-writing campaign, file suits, make all the noise they can. They get stonewalled by the state and federal government, Frazer Gas countersues them, and six months ago, Morris Shank dies of a heart attack.”

“Oh boy.” Chris eyed the papers, dismayed. “And they blame the gas company, the state, and the feds.”

“Exactly.” The Rabbi gestured at the papers again. “So what you’re looking at is antigovernment animus. Motivation. The Shank boys get angry. David starts drinking too much, and believe it or not, they blame that on fracking too. And they don’t have a bad argument. The locals tell me that alcoholism and crime increases in fracking areas. Also traffic accidents, because of the heavy machinery using roads not meant to carry the loads and noise.”

“Really.”

“I’m not making a judgment, I’m telling you what they’re telling me. The locals say people who leased their land aren’t happy and haven’t seen a dime in royalties, but it’s too late. And it’s not our focus. The target is.”

“Right, the question is, what’s the target? The Shanks want justice, and I don’t think they got it. The federal courthouse in Philly is the logical target.”

“That’s the consensus. JTTF sent everybody that way after you called me. It’s only 160 miles away. Three hours by car. Remember, it’s the Byrne Courthouse on the south side, twenty-six floors, and on the north, the Green Federal Building, ten floors—1.7 million square feet, all told.”

“How many people work there?” Chris shuddered to think of the loss of life.

“In the courthouse about a thousand, including appellate and district judges, magistrates, clerks, and staff, but it’s higher with jurors and visitors.” The Rabbi looked grim, his lined forehead buckling and his mouth a flat line. Grayish stubble marked his chin. “The Green Federal Building holds regional offices of the FBI, IRS, DEA, Secret Service, U.S. Marshal Service, Federal Probation Services, and other federal offices. It has about the same number of employees but more members of the public. We think we’re talking, all told with foot traffic, thirty-five hundred people. And that doesn’t count the businesses nearby.”

“Oh man. The FBI and the IRS are relevant to Evan.” Chris regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. “But I think they’re setting him up, framing him.”

“Maybe,” the Rabbi said, averting his eyes, and Chris knew he wasn’t on board.

“Does the target change, given the fact that we’re onto them?”

“Unsure. In terms of targets, if they change their plans, we’re close to the New York state border, and Harrisburg, the state capital, is three hours away. There’s an endless number of soft targets—train stations, bus stations, bridges, and tunnels. It could be anything, if they change tacks.”