The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(54)
She flipped through the rest of the available material online, finding more photos, more stories. In addition to being brilliant, she projected a powerful presence. Tall, fit, no-nonsense, a face and voice you listened to, trusted. She had long, dark hair, dark eyes, maybe brown, and large black glasses—similar to Mike’s own. Mike spotted one photo, enlarged it. It showed another woman standing in the background, much younger, with short, spiky dark hair that might be red, a round, hard face, broad shoulders—and clearly in a defensive, protective stance. There was something almost feral in her look, and Mike could easily identify the multiple weapons she carried by the lumps and bumps in her clothes.
A bodyguard of some sort. Which made sense—Broussard used bodyguards, why wouldn’t the second-in-command? Apparently the French aerospace industry was dangerous.
She dialed Adam. “I’m sending you a photo, Adam, standing behind Dr. Patel. Find out who she is.”
“Got it. Will do.”
Mike closed the lid on her laptop, put her head back, drifted off to sleep. Her last thought was about the look on the bodyguard’s face, staring intently not at the camera, but at Patel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The International Space Station (ISS) is a multi-nation construction project that is the largest single structure humans ever put into space. Its main construction was completed between 1998 and 2011, although the station continually evolves to include new missions and experiments. It has been continuously occupied since November 2, 2000.
—Space.com
Houston, Texas
September 2012
How could she reconnect with the Numen? Nevaeh only knew one way to make it happen.
She flew home to Houston. She was afraid she was never going to get clearance to come back to NASA. Why would they take her when they believed she was crazy?
Crazy because when she was lying quietly in a sensory deprivation chamber, she was able to communicate with aliens? And so she called her flight director, Franklin Norgate, the only one with power who could possibly believe her sane, and asked to have lunch.
They met at an anonymous sandwich shop near the Johnson Space Center campus because she was afraid if she went back to the campus, her fury would erupt and she might lash out, do something stupid, and then she’d jeopardize even this one small hope. The Numen knew she was trying.
Norgate looked tired—not a surprise, everyone in the space program looked tired. Long nights, altered biorhythms, high-stress environment—it was par for the course.
“How are you, Nevaeh? You look well.”
“I am well. Feeling great. I wanted to talk to you about coming back to the fold.”
Franklin’s smile lit up the room. “Wonderful news! We have a new crop of astronauts who are scheduled to begin training next week. This is perfect timing.”
Nevaeh grinned, her heart light for the first time since she’d been grounded. “When do we ship out?”
Franklin said, “This is for the resupply mission scheduled for first quarter 2015. You’ll be happy to know we have another female on the roster. It’s her first time going up. Your mentorship will be invaluable. There’s nothing like having firsthand experience. You can teach her the ropes, get her prepared. She will be thrilled to learn you’re going to be her mission specialist. When can you start?”
“Mission specialist? Why won’t I be chief science officer?”
Franklin looked up from his potato chips, which he’d been cheerfully consuming at Mach 1, brows drawn together. “You’ll be on the ground, guiding her work.”
Nevaeh set down her sandwich. The momentary joy she’d felt was replaced by fury. She had to swallow, hard, to not start screaming about the unfairness. Finally, she said, “Why won’t I be on the shuttle, sir? I haven’t been out of training for very long. It won’t take much to get me space ready again.”
“Nevaeh, you’ve been permanently grounded. You knew that. We sent the letter after Dr. Holloway heard from—”
“I haven’t received a letter. Who did Dr. Holloway talk to?”
He stumbled through the next few words, then cleared his throat. The who didn’t matter. He said, “I thought you’d received your letter and were writing us off. This is why I was so happy to hear from you. To hear you’re willing to come back and work with us, to lend your expertise, to help shape the missions to come—you’re too invaluable to lose.”
“I’m invaluable, but not worthy of going back to space.”
He looked at his hands, fisted in his lap. She was never going to forgive him, he could see it in her eyes. Dark, fathomless, and furious. Perhaps he should have stood up to Holloway, but in matters of the astronauts’ minds, she was the final authority. And it was costing him a good woman.
“You are worthy, Nevaeh. But Dr. Holloway put a permanent hold on your flight status.”
“She’s never liked me.”
“No, she hasn’t, you’re right there. Her animus is unwarranted, but her opinions matter and her decision is final. You’ve been out of training for too long. And—I shouldn’t tell you this, but she investigated when you asked for your records. She had to, we needed to know what you were going to do—perhaps you were going to mount a legal defense against us, or you were preparing to go public. And you sought out an independent psychiatric consult from a doctor who is well known for treating schizophrenia. Rebecca drew her own conclusions, but I believe the two of them talked.”