The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(76)

Nevaeh said, “Thank you, Eddie. You’ve been most useful.” The suppressed gun kicked in her hand, there so quickly he didn’t even have a chance to register that she’d drawn it from the holster inside her belt.

Eddie fell, sprawled onto the leftover wisps of hay, blood leaking from his head.

It only took her a few minutes to clean the scene, collect Eddie’s blood in a Tupperware, stash his body in his truck. The lead box was heavy, but Nevaeh was strong, and she quickly had it wrestled into the back of Eddie’s truck, alongside his cooling body.

She plopped his baseball cap on her head and set out for his house.

Poor Eddie. He didn’t even know his wife had been dead for hours. Like she’d let them live. For a smart man, a frigging scientist, he’d made very poor decisions.

Nevaeh stopped his truck by her car and stashed the box in the trunk. Imagine, what was inside that box would punch a hole in the atmosphere.

All hail technology.

When she reached Dr. Linton’s house, she pulled into the garage. Kiera was inside. She had turned the air conditioner to its lowest setting; the house was freezing, helping the crime-scene narrative she was about to create.

“Glad you’re here, I’m nearly frozen. Is he dead?”

“As a doornail. Help me get him into place.”

They carried Eddie’s body into the living room, sat him across from his wife. Nevaeh turned the air back to its normal setting, watched Kiera doctor the scene to her liking. She placed the gun in his hand and took one shot to make sure there was gunpowder residue spread on him. She microwaved the blood, then spread it until the blood pool was just so. The note, crumpled and bloody on his chest, was the finishing touch.

Everyone knew the Lintons were having money troubles. Would he do such a thing—a murder-suicide? Not out of the bounds of reason. Such a terrible event. Good plan.

Finally, they wiped down everything, even though they were both wearing gloves, and went over Eddie’s truck. Kiera put the keys in the sun visor and locked the doors. They jogged through the cornfields, wet with the heavy rain, back to their car.

Kiera said, “It’s a long drive. Why don’t I take the wheel first, so you can get some sleep?”

Nevaeh nodded and tossed her the keys. She watched the skyline of Boise disappear in the rearview as they started south. She then closed her eyes. It’s done. Finally, things are beginning to fall into place.

She heard a soft sibilant voice whisper against her ear, Yes, everything is falling into place. It is all you told us it would be.





CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE


T-MINUS 18 HOURS

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

Carlton Grace paced his office as he waited for the telecon to start. He had a briefing at the White House in forty minutes and he needed as much background as he could get to fill in the blanks on Nevaeh Patel.

If Strategic Command could just find the satellite. If they knew for sure whether Patel had the means to blow it up remotely, or if it was on some sort of timer. Then again, they weren’t used to dealing with actual EMP threats. Who knew what Patel and Byrne had managed to come up with?

He gulped down some water and forced himself to stop glancing at his watch. Then he closed his eyes. Too long, you waited too long. It’s your fault, your fault, if the bomb goes off.

Finally, the screen flickered to life and a man with gray hair and a matching mustache, wearing a yellow short-sleeved button-down, came into view. He had on thin silver wire-rimmed glasses and looked like everyone’s favorite grandfather. It was the famed NASA flight director himself, Dr. Franklin Norgate.

“Mr. Grace? I understand you’re CIA. What’s the matter? They said this was an emergency. What’s happening?”

“I apologize for disturbing you at home but we need to talk about your former astronaut Nevaeh Patel. I know you were asked to make available the tapes showing her spacewalk. You’ve signed the nondisclosure?”

“I have, though it’s hardly necessary. I have clearance.”

“Not for this, you don’t. We are tracking the movements of a nuclear EMP and we think Dr. Patel is behind it. You look shocked, and I don’t blame you. But believe me when I say she’s been playing a long game and we’re out of time. I need to know her state of mind, see if I can get any clues to what she’s up to, and you’re the one who knew her best. You’re also the reason she’s no longer an astronaut, which could mean you’re in danger.”

Norgate was shaking his head in disbelief. “No, this can’t be true, there’s no way. Yes, a decade ago, Nevaeh was disturbed, angry she’d been grounded, but for her to set off a nuclear EMP? It’s a long way from hearing voices in space to destroying a large segment of society.”

“It is, Mr. Norgate, no question, but here are facts: She managed to stow the bomb on a satellite that was launched on July 14, and her company, Galactus, claims the satellite wasn’t inserted into orbit. We believe this was a lie. We believe she programmed it to be on a different, unexpected elliptical. We also believe it is designed to go off during the apex of the lunar eclipse tonight, which is going to coincide with the passage of the International Space Station over Nepal. We are making an educated guess as to where it’s going to go off, but the information we’ve pulled together is sound. Now, I need the tapes from her spacewalk. She claimed she met up with space aliens and they saved her life. And I need the tapes immediately.”