The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(52)

He pressed a few buttons and put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear.

A young, hyper voice said, “Galactus, bureau de Monsieur Broussard.”

“Claudette, bonjour, en anglais, s’il vous plait,” and she immediately switched to English.

“Oh, sir, it’s really you! We were all so afraid and there’s been no news—it’s wonderful to hear from you!”

Jean-Pierre heard her crying. “It’s all right, Claudette, I’m fine.” No need to tell her he’d lost four crew. “Soon I’ll tell you about it.”

“I know you’ll want to speak to Dr. Patel right away, but she isn’t here, I’ll have to patch you through to her mobile. Once she closed the offices and sent us all home, we feared the worst. I had the phones forwarded to my mobile, and when the phone rang, I was so afraid—I’m at home watching the news, and they said you were all dead, and the typhoon is coming, and . . . oh, monsieur! She will be so thrilled to know you’re alive. She’s been worried sick, we all have.”

Broussard let her run on until she finally stopped. He said evenly, “Did you say Dr. Patel closed the offices?”

“Oh, yes. When they couldn’t find you or The Griffon, Dr. Patel gave instructions to go on lockdown, only essential personnel. Everyone else left. She said it was sabotage—oh, but of course, you won’t know. The Bastille Day satellite we lost was tampered with. Dr. Patel went to Quints in China and found the metal fatigue was purposeful.

“The media were all over campus, many strangers, many threats. We moved them off the property and closed the gates. Shall I ring her for you now? She will be so pleased, so relieved.”

Nicholas laid a hand on Broussard’s arm and shook his head.

Broussard nodded. “No, Claudette, it’s quite all right, I will call her myself. I must handle this personally. Don’t mention my call to anyone else, either, if you please. No media, no outside conversations, no internal communications. I will take responsibility for our messaging to the press. I’ll be back to you in a couple of hours. I wanted to let you know I’m okay, but I don’t want the news to get out yet, not until I’ve had some time to rest and regroup. And if there’s some sort of sabotage, yes, we need to keep it quiet, the news I’m alive might set off another round of attacks.”

“Oui, monsieur. It is best you stay hidden for now. I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

Broussard frowned at Nicholas as he hung up. “This situation is getting out of hand.”

Nicholas said, “Question, Jean-Pierre. Do you really believe Dr. Patel closed your offices to mourn you? Or because a satellite was sabotaged? You’re a multinational corporation, you’re losing money by the minute, am I correct?”

“Yes, we are, and I admit, it’s not the typical procedure. But this isn’t a typical situation, either.”

“Sir, the timing is too convenient. She thinks she’s murdered you, she’s shut down your company, stolen the Grail, and we have no idea why, only a brief reference to a nuclear EMP, and now claims of sabotage. Calling and warning her that we know she’s up to something would be a massive mistake.”

Broussard drummed his fingertips on the leather chair arm. “Listen to me, special agents—yes, that does give you gravitas, doesn’t it? How about she’s simply distraught at the idea of the head of her company being lost at sea? I know her. If I call her I’ll know the truth, all of it.”

Nicholas sighed. “Sir, if Dr. Patel did do this, she definitely wants you dead. We’ll be operating from a position of power if she continues believing she succeeded. This way, we can see what she does next. I need to have a trap set up on her phone so we know where she is at all times, and I don’t want her to rabbit before we have a chance to figure out what she’s up to, and why she wanted you dead.”

Broussard shook his head. “Since you insist on circumventing me at every turn, and if there’s nothing else you need from me, I must rest.”

He closed his eyes and was asleep before they had a chance to ask him any more questions.





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT


Mike gave a now-sleeping Broussard a look, then said, “Let’s let it go for now. He’s not thinking straight, and can you blame him? He’s trusted Dr. Patel to run his company for more than five years. A shock this big—I’m not surprised he’s hanging on with his fingernails. But he is getting close to believing it. Who else could it be? So that’s enough for now. Both you and Grant are exhausted. I’ll take first watch. You two get some sleep.”

Nicholas started to protest, but Mike shook her head. “Seriously. I’m too jazzed anyway. Believe me, the last thing I want is a nightmare about the huge wave that took down our helicopter and all that black, cold water. I’ll do some research instead.”

“If you’re sure.” But Nicholas was already yawning, and Grant didn’t protest at all. Both men crashed, hard, leaving Mike alone with her thoughts.

She retrieved a bag of M&M’s from the drawer for a quick sugar boost and got herself another cup of coffee. Then she put on her earbuds and checked in with Adam, who looked beyond relieved to see her, especially when she told him what they’d been through.

“Adam, we’re fine. Don’t worry. Has the news cycle caught up with the rescue yet?”