The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(83)

“Where are they exactly?”

“They’re outside of Colombo, in the mountains. It’s right where Aquarius is supposed to be.”

Mills said, “Confirmation enough for me. Let’s go.”

“More than enough,” Mills said, and pumped his fist. “This Adam belongs obviously in the CIA.”

Nicholas said, “Yeah, right. Hold on. Adam, you taped the conversation she had, yes? I want to be one hundred percent sure she isn’t using some sort of fake GPS system to send people off the trail. Run the protocol again, and this time, back-trace it to France and lay in voice recognition, see if we can tap in from the other end. Let’s make sure it was Patel, and she’s really in Sri Lanka.”

Typing, whistling, then Adam said, “It’s for real. The voice profiles match up, and I was able to get a specific locale for the sat phone, down to a hundred yards.”

“Good job. We’ll be in touch.”

Nicholas tossed the headphones down, uploaded a program into the computer, then ejected the thumb drive. The program launched and erased the computer’s hard drive. Not necessarily polite, but there was no sense leaving tracks behind. They wouldn’t know it, but the next time someone tried to power up this machine, they’d find absolutely nothing. He wasn’t willing to give the CIA his brainchildren.

Mike was nearly dancing with excitement. “Can we go now? Right now? Hey, where’s Mills?”

Mills came out of the hangar, yelling at the top of his lungs at Nicholas, “Did you erase that computer?”

“What? No idea what you’re talking about, mate.”

“Bugger off, you British bastard.”

Nicholas laughed. “Okay, Vinny, are we on, or what?”

Mills said, “Oh yeah, we’re on. But you pull a trick like that again and you’ll be left behind.”

Nicholas only grinned at him.

Outside the hangar, the pilots were milling about their jets, relaxed, wearing jumpsuits that made them look like bugs, strange arms and legs sticking out. One came to them. “Madame, messieurs, I am Captain Rousseau. We have received orders to bring you to Sri Lanka. I understand you are in something of a ruée—ah, yes, you are in a rush. These are F2 Rafales. These are the fastest planes we have. Eighty-five hundred kilometers from here to Sri Lanka, we are going to have you there in a little less than four hours. We will have to refuel on the way, of course.”

Mike said, “Four hours is good. But landing will cost us time.”

“Oh, we will not have to make a landing. You see the arm right there?” He pointed at a long, thin pole that stuck out of the right side of each plane near the clear glass hood. “We will refuel in the air. It will require very little time. We will do it two times. There is one issue. The winds are going to be pretty rough, flying into a typhoon is not gentle.” A sly grin moved across the captain’s face. “I hope you did not eat any breakfast, did you?”

Mike grinned back. “As a matter of fact, nope. I’m starving, too.”

“Good. Let us get you ready to fly. The things you need are inside the hangar.”

“Let’s do it.”

They did all the necessary prep, got dressed in their flight suits, briefed on their flight plan and mission. Nicholas was shaking his head at her. “Imagine, you wanting to fly heavy G’s.”

“Oh, yeah. This part I’m going to love.”

He tweaked her ponytail. “Keep your wits about you, Dame Michaela. Don’t have too much fun.”

They each climbed the ladder and wedged themselves into the tiny, hard second seat of their jets.

Mike was riding with Captain Rousseau. Nicholas would be in the second jet. She gave him a crazed grin and a thumbs-up.

Mills was in the lead jet. A fourth jet was geared up, and would be flying with them. As what, a guard? Or to try to save them if one of them got shot down?

Rousseau did a series of checks in French with his pilots, then spoke to Mike, his voice strong and clear across the comms in her ear attached to her helmet.

“Are you ready, Madame Agent ma’am?”

“You better believe it. I’ve wanted to ride in an F-14 for years, but they’re retired now. This baby? She’s beautiful.”

He laughed, gave her an interested look, very French, and she smiled back at him. “We will see how you feel when we are pulling five G’s. Do not forget the bags tucked by your right knee. The weather near the landing site is deteriorating, and we will be feeling every bump. There is no shame to feel sick. Most people do the first time.”

Mike was rubbing her hands together. She didn’t care if she barfed in Technicolor into her own shoe. This was going to be a blast. “Let’s go!”

As they started to roll toward the runway, Nicholas came across her comms.

“Mike, you okay?”

“Never better.”

“Bloody hell, you’re still altogether too excited.” She heard the smile in his voice, knew he was excited, too. The best part was they’d be in Sri Lanka with hours to spare to look for Patel and Aquarius. And the Holy Grail. For Emilie.

She said into her comms, “Adam sent me some files. I’m going to put on my earbuds and listen to more recent private tapes Byrne transcribed of her boss in her deprivation chamber. Hopefully I’ll find out who was in the chamber with her, who she was talking to. I’ll also go through her personnel folder, see if I can find any clues to why she’s doing this.”