The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(38)
She didn’t move, and Dr. Fontaine sighed. “There is something else you can try.”
“What?”
“Sensory deprivation. You say you heard the voices clearly when you were in a zero-sound environment, and you need calm and silence to communicate with them now. Sensory deprivation is a version of regression therapy. We put you in a flotation tank and see what happens when you’re able to re-create how it felt for you in space the moment you became untethered. Then, using those thoughts and feelings, we slowly bring you back to a more realistic scenario of what actually happened.”
“They used them in our training. I know what it feels like. It’s—not the same as being in space.”
“But it’s close enough that NASA, as you said, used it in your training to help you with the feeling of sensory deprivation.”
“I’ll think about it.”
The doctor closed her notebook, rose, straightened her dress. “Our time’s up. Would you like to make another appointment?”
Nevaeh slowly rose. She said automatically, “I’ll call and set something up. I need to think.”
They shook hands. “Good luck, Nevaeh. Don’t forget, it’s always darkest before the dawn.”
Now, wasn’t the dear doctor clever? “Actually, Dr. Fontaine, it’s much darker in outer space.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
T-MINUS 50 HOURS
Sky News Coverage of Typhoon Akari July 26
This is our continuing coverage of the typhoon bearing down on the search and rescue area where Galactus founder Jean-Pierre Broussard’s yacht, The Griffon, was last seen on radar. The storm has now been named Akari, which we’re told means “red storm.” Gale-force winds are expected to top two hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, which places it squarely in the Category Four classification. The storm has already moved through Indonesia and is now approaching Singapore. While this first landfall caused it to weaken, it is expected to reach peak winds as it moves into the Strait of Malacca. Rescuers will have to stop the search as the waters will be too dangerous.
“Rescuers are in a race against time and the elements to find the founder of Galactus and his crew. Sky News has learned a pilot on a Singapore Airlines plane flying overhead saw an explosion in the general vicinity of The Griffon’s last known whereabouts. This, in addition to the storm, makes this situation even more dire.
“We’ll continue our coverage after a break.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
T-MINUS 49 HOURS
The founding of Kuala Lumpur was almost an accident. In 1857, 87 Chinese prospectors in search of tin landed at the meeting point of the Klang and Gombak rivers and set up camp, naming the spot Kuala Lumpur, meaning ‘muddy confluence.’ Within a month all but 17 of the prospectors had died of malaria and other tropical diseases, but the tin they discovered in Ampang attracted more miners and KL quickly became a brawling, noisy, violent boomtown, ruled over by so-called ‘secret societies,’ a network of Chinese criminal gangs.
—LonelyPlanet.com
Kuala Lumpur
Malaysia
Mike didn’t know what to expect when she stepped off the plane in Kuala Lumpur—imagine living in a city whose name meant “muddy confluence.” She’d imagined it would be exotic, different spices scenting the air. It would be unique.
The smell was not exotic. Instead, the air was heavily scented with gasoline and asphalt—the universal language of tarmacs everywhere. The air was hard to breathe, thick and heavy. The sun was up, though Mike could feel the heavy pressure in the air, the skies were gray, cloudy, the rain from the storm imminent. And it was hot and muggy. And both Nicholas and Mike pulled off their jackets. They followed Poppy to the cars to take them to the chopper, all of them carrying their go-bags. As they walked, Mike touched Nicholas on the shoulder, showed him her phone, the radar image of the typhoon. The storm was growing stronger, clear to see, strengthening, coalescing, forming an eye. The path was going to take it right across Malaysia into the Strait of Malacca and out to the Bay of Bengal—precisely the path they were going to be on searching for The Griffon.
“Nicholas, it’s heading right for the area where Adam found Grant’s last fitness tracker signal.”
“How long?”
“This area will be affected in half a day, maybe? Depends on if it slows down or speeds up once it hits water again. We need to hurry. I have no desire to be lost at sea in a typhoon.”
He saw her worry, and at the same time, saw her excitement. His danger junkie. He hugged her to him. “Nor do I, Agent Caine. Nor do I.”
She looked up to see shadows under his eyes. They were probably under hers, too—they hadn’t gotten much sleep on the plane, only cat naps here and there. His beard was growing in, the stubble thicker around that infernal dent in his chin that always made her want to lean up and kiss him. “I like the scruff, makes you look like a dangerous playboy.”
A black brow went up.
She poked him. “You’re distracted. What are you thinking about?”
“How to keep us out of trouble if there is an actual nuclear EMP floating around up there.” He pointed toward the heavens. “Depending on where it goes off—if it goes off—the nuclear explosion itself could have little effect on areas outside of its initial range. The real issue is the aftermath of the EMP. The blast will knock out anything electronic in its path for a good fifteen hundred miles in any direction. Without the most basic electronics, the entire supply chain stops. Food can’t be shipped. Water treatment plants will go offline—”