The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(20)

Neveah, the stone is yours. Bring it to us, and be one of us. Silence the heavens and we will come to you. You have done what you were meant to do.

The Numen’s voices were so happy, happier than she’d ever heard them in many years. It took considerable effort to release the stone, but she did, placing it carefully back in its box, not noticing it shiver and cringe.

“Bring it. We have everything we need now. The nuke will go off in four days’ time, and the EMP will bring everything to us.”

Kiera lifted the box, and was also surprised at its weight. What was it made of, lead? The buzzing was giving her a headache.

They took the stairs back to the helipad. Nevaeh stepped around the spreading pool of blood and took one last look at Devi’s destroyed face. She climbed in and secured her seat belt. She let Kiera pilot, she wanted to savor this moment. As the chopper rose into the blackness, Nevaeh looked down at the dead ship.

And so it begins for me.

And so it ends for you, Jean-Pierre.

When they were some distance away from The Griffon, “It’s time, Kiera. Do it.”

Kiera hovered the chopper. “You’re still sure you wish to do this, Nevaeh?”

She put her hand on Kiera’s knee. “Yes, I am sure. It’s time to end Jean-Pierre. We can’t afford any possible interference. The stone is mine now. The Numen are calling to me, Kiera. They want me at Aquarius. They want me to launch the nuke.”

Kiera nodded. Once she’d been jealous of Jean-Pierre Broussard, had wanted to hurt him. After all, Nevaeh was near his age and she was afraid they would become lovers. But Broussard loved young women and Nevaeh loved her.

Still, no loss. She launched the missile. It gave a whoosh and the chopper jerked. They waited for the sound of the explosion, watched as the dark, empty night became a brilliant white for a few seconds.

“Direct hit,” Kiera said with satisfaction.

“You sank my battleship.” Nevaeh and Kiera both laughed as Kiera moved the chopper away from the blast site.

Kiera said, “Do you want me to swing back around? See the carnage?”

“No. I feel no need to dance on Jean-Pierre’s grave. He was good to me. As a boss, he was perfect. Like Devi, he fulfilled his purpose. And now he’s of no more use. There’s no way the ship could survive. Head for land. We will make our way to Sri Lanka.”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Ketamine is a medication mainly used for starting and maintaining anesthesia. It induces a trance-like state while providing pain relief, sedation, and memory loss.

—Wikipedia

Grant Thornton heard the words, garbled and distant as if he were underwater. A woman’s voice: “Bring it. We have everything we need now. The nuke will go off in four days’ time, and the EMP will bring everything to us.”

Was there more? Grant didn’t know, his brain wasn’t working right. Just a few stray thoughts.

I am hearing things.

Surely, she didn’t just say “nuke.”

“EMP”? No, that was crazy. Why can’t I move?

Just when he started to think he’d imagined the voice, he heard a door slam closed.

The ship felt deserted, though he knew that wasn’t true, someone was there, they’d gone into the stairwell.

A nuke. Four days. An EMP. And a name, what was it? Something weird—Nevaeh.

He was starting to feel uncomfortable, which, deep in his lizard brain, he knew was a good thing, because up until a moment ago, he’d been unable to feel anything, only had a strange, disembodied sense of his own body, as if in a dream state, though he was awake. A fine wave of panic went through him—danger, I’m in danger, is Kitsune okay?—before he wrestled those thoughts back into their cage. He couldn’t think about his wife when he was operational.

He dragged in a breath and tried to move, feeling pins and needles in his legs. Something registered—drugged.

Not good. Wait it out.

He felt like he was paralyzed, knew he needed to stay calm. Whatever he’d been given was starting to wear off. Ketamine, he realized, somehow someone had given him ketamine. It was the same drug they’d injected him with when he’d been kidnapped. When? How could he have been taken down? He was alarmed he couldn’t remember anything. He could recall coming on board The Griffon, meeting Jean-Pierre Broussard, being briefed, coordinating with the rest of the team. He vaguely remembered standing atop some scaffolding, but why he’d been there escaped him.

The team. Where was everyone? Who else was down?

He moved his fingers, relieved when they started to twitch. And finally, finally, his brain refired. Someone had managed to disable the most top-notch security in the world and robbed his client. There would be hell to pay.

Grant had honestly thought Jean-Pierre Broussard was a little mad, considering. In the briefing Grant received when he’d boarded the ship, Broussard had clearly stated he was about to be in possession of an ancient artifact that many people would kill to possess, and he’d heard the scuttlebutt across the ship when the Holy Grail had been pulled from the waters. Someone in the kitchens called it the Heaven Stone, but Grant knew it couldn’t the case. He’d said, “You’re having one off on me,” and the kid had said, “No way. I’m serious. It’s the Grail. The boss is going to be immortal. Hey, maybe it’ll rub off on us, too.” And he’d given a kind of scared laugh. But then they’d brought up that huge container and there it was, in a small box, and Broussard was incandescent, no other word to describe his joy.