The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(67)

Nicholas gave her a crazed grin. “Only scratches from the broken glass, Mike.”

She couldn’t seem to stop laughing. Between hiccups, she got out, “You are an idiot, you know that?” But her eyes were bright, adrenaline still riding her high. Broussard was in the front seat, breathing hard, staring at them.

Grant looked over his shoulder. “Good thing Jupiter was there to catch you. If you’d fallen on Uranus, you’d have been in real trouble.”

And they all started to laugh.





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT


The ground disappeared beneath them. Grant said, “In all seriousness, guys, that was entirely too close. Where to?”

Mike said, “We didn’t get into Patel’s computer. We need to access it. Jean-Pierre, do your employees work from home, log into your systems remotely?”

Broussard turned in his seat. He had himself well in hand, as if a shoot-out with terrorists was only another walk in the park. “Yes, of course.”

“Good. Tell us where Nevaeh Patel lives, and we’ll try to access her files from her home computer.”

He gave them an address, and Nicholas turned it into coordinates for Grant. Five minutes later, they set down on the lawn of a lovely country manor house. The sun was starting to rise, hitting the rooftop with gentle beams, making the stone glow yellow. Mike realized suddenly she felt bone weary. Two hours of sleep, a chopper crash, and a shoot-out was a lot for one day, even for her adrenaline-junkie-trained body. Nicholas and Grant had to be in the same shape as she was.

As the rotors spun down, Broussard said, “So much for surprising Dr. Patel.”

Grant said, “Well, there are no lights on, nor any lights turning on. If someone set a chopper down on my lawn, it might wake me. She’s most likely not here. We’re breaking in?”

Nicholas nodded. “No choice. We need to get to her computer.”

“Then let’s hurry,” Mike said. “Al-Asaad’s men will track us, and I’d prefer not to have another shoot-out with them.”

Broussard led them to Patel’s garden door. “I haven’t been here in over a year, but I know where she used to leave a key. It’s difficult—how could she get caught up with a terrorist like Al-Asaad? And he’s paying her? So after he builds the bomb, she’ll put it into space? To explode and cause an EMP. Why?”

“We don’t know the why yet, Jean-Pierre, but—” Nicholas’s mobile rang. He looked at the screen, looked again. “It’s my mum,” he said blankly. “Hello, Mum? Ah, I’m sort of busy right now—”

“Nicholas, I know it’s early and I probably woke you, but I had to tell you. I think I understand why Mr. Able was murdered. I discovered his sister was sneaking around with this Satanist cult leader in London. Mr. Able found out—”

“Mum, sounds like you’ve got it covered. I’m really sorry, but I have to go,” and he punched off. He looked at them. “Ah, my mom’s up to her ears in a murder mystery back home.”

Mike hugged herself, she laughed so hard.

Nicholas’s phone rang again. Nicholas said, “Okay, this call’s from New York. Hello, Adam.”

Adam and Gray were both on the line. Gray said, “Good, you’re okay. What happened? We saw a team make entry, and picked up a heat bloom from an explosion.”

“Grenade. We got a few of the terrorists. Are the local authorities on it yet?”

“Yes, full response at Galactus. Al-Asaad’s team scattered when the chopper took off.”

Nicholas said, “I think Al-Asaad will realize it makes sense for us to come to Patel’s house, looking for her, which means we don’t have much time. We’re about to break into the house and access her computer, since we were chased out of Galactus before we were able to hook in. Can you redirect your eyes our way?”

He gave them the address and Gray snapped his fingers at Lia Scott, their communications expert, who stepped away to have the satellite moved.

“Let us know if anyone comes for us, all right?”

Adam said, “Will do. I assume you’ll be hooking me up to this off-site computer? I’m on standby, let me know when you’re secure.”

Mike put the comms unit back in her ear. “Grant, you keep watch. We’ll go inside with Jean-Pierre and find the computer. Shout if anything, or anyone, happens by. We hardly need the Lyon flics on our backs right now.”

Grant said, “Copy that.”

Broussard gave her an arched eyebrow. “ ‘Flics’? You’ve worked France before, haven’t you? I thought the FBI was supposed to be an American-soil organization.”

Mike adjusted her ponytail. Little bits of glass from the shot-out knee wall rained down onto the flagstones. “We’re part of a special unit. We get to travel the world stopping bad guys. Now, Jean-Pierre, let’s get inside and see to Patel’s computer.”

Broussard unlocked the garden door, and they slipped inside. Nicholas used the flashlight on his phone instead of turning on the lights. Soon there would be enough light from outdoors to show them the way, but inside, with the curtains drawn, the rooms were dark.

Broussard looked around, confused. “It’s like she’s gone away for the season. She’s closed up the house entirely.”