The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(43)

She said against his face, “We’re okay? Our helicopter just crashed and we’re floating in the middle of the freaking ocean.”

“Good, you’re back. Hey, we’re alive. It’s a great start.”

Another huge wave splashed over her head, dragging her under, but the life vest pulled her back to the surface and she sputtered and coughed. Nicholas wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. The waves had to be ten feet high. They needed to find those life rafts, and fast.

Well, he was right, they were still alive. She shouted, “What happened?”

“Had to be a super-gigantic rogue wave, caught us broadside. Hopefully it didn’t take down the life rafts or the sub.”

“How far away are they?”

Before he could answer, a submarine popped up into the water next to them. And Grant Thornton opened the hatch, stuck his head out. “Good to see you two. Come on, make it snappy. Come into my parlor.” He tossed down a sturdy rope ladder. It was a contest between them and the waves, but finally, they managed to scramble inside the submarine without it taking on too much water. The top snapped closed with a pneumatic hiss, the bilges pumped out the extra water they’d brought in with them. And then there was silence. Blessed silence.

Grant was grinning at them. “Welcome aboard.”

And a handsome Frenchman Mike recognized as Jean-Pierre Broussard, said, “That was quite an escape. Sorry, no tea or cakes to offer you. Grant, you know these two. Introduce us.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


After introductions, Mike said, surprised, “I still have my glasses.”

“Indeed you do,” Broussard said, and handed her a dry cloth. Mike wiped her glasses, then squeezed the sea water from her ponytail. “Thank you for being here.”

Grant said, “We saw the whole thing. I’ll tell you guys, I’ve never prayed so hard in my life. We saw the chopper coming from a distance, had no idea you two were in it. Then I saw Mike, and she started signaling, and suddenly a wall of water was coming up on you. It was the biggest wave we’ve seen so far. Your pilot was much too close to the sea, he should have never been down that far. We lost one of the life rafts, too, it capsized, but everyone is accounted for, on the other rafts. Your pilot?”

Nicholas shook his head. “Dead. His neck was broken, something in the cockpit hit him wrong. It’s a miracle we’re okay, for a moment there I thought we were going down with the chopper.”

“We did, too. We slammed the top closed and submerged, headed toward your last position. Smart thinking with the life vests, they were easy to see.”

Nicholas looked from Broussard to Grant. “Here you are, rescuing us, when we came out here to rescue you.”

They shook hands formally, and Grant said, “How did you find us?”

Mike wanted to hoot and holler, maybe line-dance—they were alive. Nearly drowned, again, and that thought made her shudder. She managed a smile, pointed. “Your fitness tracker. For some reason, it was the only signal we could find, and it’s been off and on for the past day. I assume something terrible happened to the yacht?”

Nicholas said, “Yes, what happened to the yacht? Did she go down?”

Broussard swallowed hard, his face hardened. He nodded. “She did.”

Grant said, “They shot a missile at us. Probably a Hellfire. Took out the stern and we barely had time to get everyone evacuated—those that were alive, that is. That woman wanted us dead. All of us.”

Mike asked, “What woman?”

“The woman discussing the EMP. Did you get my transmission, is that why you’re here?”

Nicholas said, “We did. We were already coming for you when you went off the radar. What do you know about the EMP?”

Grant repeated what he’d heard. “It’s going to go off tomorrow, Nicholas. We have to get to land and stop her. Please tell me the pilot was able to send word of our coordinates before he crashed?”

“He did. Help should be arriving shortly. Do you know why your signal was lost? Your boat was dead in the water—no signals, no power signatures, nothing. The transponder never came online.”

Broussard said, “We had a saboteur on board. Grant believes it was Devi, the young woman who’d been with me six months. I cannot accept it, she was a favorite of the crew, she was happy with me, on The Griffon. This woman Grant overheard—she murdered her, in cold blood.

“The missile Grant mentioned. The Griffon was attacked, and the Holy Grail was stolen out of my safe. We’d just found it and were celebrating. Someone drugged us, stole the Grail, murdered my Devi, and then scuttled my ship.”

Nicholas asked, “Do you have any idea who might want to do this, sir?”

“I found the Holy Grail. Who wouldn’t want to have it? Whoever it was—a woman, Grant believes—wanted the Grail and made Devi steal it. And she must have wanted me dead. Who is she? I don’t know.”

“Just to be clear, this is Parzival’s Grail you’re talking about, correct?”

Broussard’s eyebrows shot up. “You know Parzival?”

“I know some. He was a knight of the Round Table, was part of the Arthurian legend. And he was a Grail knight. As to the rest, you’ll have to fill us in. But first, sir, can you get us to land in this sub? The closest land mass is Thailand, about fifty miles to the east. You’ve drifted pretty far north.”