The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(87)

“Theoretically, I suppose you’re right. As far as I know, at least.”

“So if we were able to identify the satellite the nuke is on, we could conceivably destroy it before the bomb went off.”

“Conceivably.” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Since the military is now alerted, why don’t you have a quick chat with one of your friends, see about moving a defense satellite into place above the area where we believe our rogue satellite is going to be, and if Mike and I can’t stop this in time from the ground, the military can shoot it with a laser. There are satellites with that sort of capability, yes?”

“Whoa, dude. You are so far above our pay grades on this one—I don’t think I can make that happen. I mean, I could—again, theoretically—take control of a satellite, but I kind of like my job. We’d need to go to the White House for orders for something of that magnitude.”

“Gray, I don’t mean for you to do it. We’d need to get the military to handle this. I think it’s something worth pursuing. In case we can’t get it stopped from the ground, or worse, don’t make it to Patel’s installation in time, as long as we can identify where the satellite is, we can come at it from a different direction, as you Yanks like to say.”

Gray thought it out. “Okay. It’s a solid plan. I always prefer having a backup when it comes to stopping a nuclear bomb. But I think you should talk to the White House directly. I can scramble a call between you and them.”

“Good idea. And you better inform Grace from CIA about this as well. We’re here with his people, and it’s their coordination that allowed us to even be here in time. Oh, and you might want to loop in NASA.”

“NASA? Why?”

“We think there’s an additional target. The space station will be passing through the area where we think the nuke is set to go off, at the moment of the lunar eclipse. It’s possible the space station is a target, considering Patel’s previous situation with them. Perhaps they could undertake a change of course, if given enough warning. Would hate to see such collateral damage.”

Gray said a very bad word. “Can you imagine what Zachery will say when he finds out what he’s missed?”

“No, nor do I want to imagine it.”

“Okay, hang tight. Let me wrangle up some folks for you to talk to.”

Nicholas put the phone in his pocket and shrugged at Mike. “All we can do is try.”

Mike said, “It’s a brilliant idea, though. We have to hope they have enough time to move every piece of the puzzle into place, and our assumptions are right. But if they are, then we have two shots to stop this nuke. I like two much better than only one.”

“I do as well.” He waved at the windswept, rainy scene outside the hangar. “We simply might not make it in time.”





CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE


Mills walked across the hangar to join them. He gestured toward the group of heavily armed people.

“These are some of the best we have in-country. They know about Aquarius. The locals call it Taru Pratimāva, which our guide explained means ‘the Statue to the Stars’ in the Sinhala language.”

Mike said, “Hey, being two-toned is better than looking like a terrorist. Did you plug any drains getting rid of all that beard hair?”

“Har, har,” but Mills rubbed his hand over his face. “Three minutes and a mirror, that was all I needed.”

Nicholas said, “I’m going to want to talk to our guide.”

“There’ll be plenty of time. It’s going to be at least three hours in the trucks. We can’t fly, everything is grounded and there’s no place to land.”

Nicholas looked at his Breitling. “Cutting it rather fine, aren’t we? I’m sure we could find something close—”

“I’ve seen the radar—the storm is too intense. We need to get moving right away if we have any hope of making it out before the roads become impassible. Things are going to get dicey. We’ll take four vehicles. You’ll ride with me, get filled in. I hope you FBI wusses are up for this.”

Nicholas laughed, remembering how Mills had calmly walked toward Patel’s house, his hands on his head. They could have shot him dead. Even though he was an idiot, he had guts. So, instead of slugging his very white lower face, Nicholas merely said, “We’ll see. We have to talk to both our bosses, we might as well do it together. Let’s get on the road. Put the guide in our truck, too.”

Mike looked around the hangar at all the grounded aircraft. “I wish Grant was here. He’d fly into the storm.”

Nicholas thought he probably would, in a heartbeat.

Their guide walked up to them and introduced himself, hand outstretched. His round face was deeply seamed, his thick hair an odd color between red and brown, maybe a bit of yellow in there as well. “I am Bernard Arndt. Normally I would take you to the Union so you could rest and have refreshments, but I understand you are in a hurry. I will get us safely to Taru Pratim??va. I have lived on the island my whole life.”

Mike said, “I wasn’t expecting a name like Arndt. Are you Dutch?”

“Yes, madam. My people are Dutch Burghers, many of whom fled during the civil war. It is only me and my wife and children, and my brother and his children, now. Ceylon has changed. We’ve suffered so many losses, the war, the tsunami. Forty-seven thousand souls, gone in a single event. Many of my people left but I stayed. Ceylon is my home. Let us go.”