The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(68)

Mike asked, “Where is her office?”

“I am not sure. I’ve only ever been downstairs. I don’t recall seeing it.”

Nicholas led them through the kitchen, a great hall, and up the staircase. “Spread out,” he said, and they all went in different directions.

Mike found the office on the third floor. The room was beautiful: blond wood, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, with a ladder allowing the occupant to get to the top levels. Half library, half office, and out the large windows, a view of beautiful gardens.

Patel’s computer was a twenty-seven-inch iMac desktop, sitting on a desk devoid of anything but a mouse. Completely the opposite of her workspace at Galactus. Interesting.

Mike booted up the computer and called Adam.

“Okay, I’m here. What do you want me to do?”

“Computer?”

“iMac.”

“Do you have the jump drive with the program Nicholas likes to use to break passwords?”

“Oh, yes. Hold on, it’s in my bag.”

She found the small jump drive, plugged it into the back of the screen. She toggled the mouse and the computer came on.

“Great, give it a few minutes, then we’ll be in.”

She could see the program running, the password box filling and emptying over and over, and then Adam said, “Got it. Open sesame.”

The screen came to life. There was a super high-resolution photo of Earth, close enough to see the layers of atmosphere and the curve of the planet. It was not the standard photo that came with an iMac’s software. Mike wondered if it had been taken by Patel from the space station.

Files began flashing on the screen, and Mike sat back and waited, drumming her fingers on the desk.

Nicholas stuck his head in. “You all set?”

“Adam’s running the files now.”

“That will take a while. Come here, I want to show you something.”

“Adam, I’ll be right back.”

His voice floated through the speaker of her phone, distracted. “All good, Mike. Gonna take me a minute here anyway.”

She stashed the phone in her back pocket and Nicholas walked her down the stairs to the second floor, where the living quarters were. His shirt was bloody, and Mike reached for him, wiping at the biggest stain. “We have to get you cleaned up. Surely there’s a bathroom.”

“Yeah, I’ll clean up in a minute. Patel and Byrne don’t share rooms. They each have their own. Byrne has a computer here, though, and I was able to force my way in. I’m scanning it now, and I think we might find some answers.”

She followed him into a large bedroom with a separate sitting room. The room looked more like a high-end hotel suite, perfectly decorated in creams and blues, well balanced between priceless antiques and modern furniture. She had to hand it to them, Kiera Byrne and Nevaeh Patel had good taste.

“It’s strange, it feels like they’re basically roommates. Whatever, this is a pretty elaborate set up.”

“Jean-Pierre said Byrne is incredibly protective, whatever that really means.”

“It doesn’t matter. From all we know, Byrne is going to fight to the death to protect Patel. What did you find?”

He sat her down in front of the computer, eased in next to her, and started opening files, moving her through his theories. “Schematics for the nuclear EMP. And here’s a lengthy correspondence with someone who certainly seems to be—guess who? None other than our buddy Al-Asaad.”

Mike said, “That seals it. They were working out their deal in their two recorded meets in Corsica. In 2015 and 2016. Of course, the plutonium was stolen in 2015. I suppose the meet in 2016 was finalizing everything, making the money deal and the delivery. I wonder how much Al-Asaad paid them? Millions?”

Nicholas said, “I wonder how they got hooked up with a terrorist?”

Mike said, “That’s easy. Kiera was raised in the shadow of the IRA. Bombings, killings, you name it. She had contacts, don’t doubt it.”

“They probably communicated on the dark web. These emails are all coded, I’m running my anca encryption program on them right now. See? They date back to 2015, before the plutonium was stolen from Idaho, before their first meet in Corsica. Looks like Al-Asaad was looking for a way to build and launch a nuclear EMP himself, and Kiera Byrne and Patel had the solutions.”

“Nicholas, I don’t understand why Patel would do this. I mean, are we about to have a coordinated terrorist attack?”

His face was stark. “I think so, yes.”

“We have to let New York know.”

“I already have. I cloned the hard drive and sent it to Gray. He’s running the analysis now.”

“So what’s our next step?”

“This.”

He flipped to the next screen and Mike saw what looked like a huge eggshell broken in half, with a massive telescope sticking out like a snout. It was surrounded by thick vegetation, palm trees, and unfamiliar lush green plants.

“What’s this?”

“This, Michaela, is a refracting telescope worthy of a big city observatory. I think Patel built her own observatory somewhere. Using lots of Al-Asaad’s money to supplement the money she doubtless stole from Galactus.”

“Why? To what end?”

“To this end. Listen.”