The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(95)

Nevaeh stared at herself in the mirror. She wound her long hair into an elegant topknot, looked again in the mirror, and nodded. Yes, she looked older, much older.

She crossed her bedroom, with its floor-to-ceiling windows that gave out onto the dense jungle, and watched the dark skies and pelting rain. It was worrisome for such a tempest to rise up now, of all times. No, it wouldn’t be a problem, not for the Numen. They were omnipresent, they were gods, they could do anything once she’d rid space of all the junk man had jettisoned into it. She looked down at her watch. She now had fifty minutes until the explosion. Time to recheck every variable.

The halls were oddly silent, as was the command center. There was only the sound of her heels clicking on the floors and the moaning of the winds. Suddenly, the winds quieted and she realized the eye must be upon them. Amazing how much noise the rain and wind had been making. Even inside her concrete palace, the noise had been deafening. The silence was disconcerting. For a moment, only a moment, it unnerved her.

She sat down at her computer, looked at the weather radar, pleased to see they were on the edge of the eye-wall. A few quick calculations; it would be calm for an hour, and then—everything would change.

She looked at the moon’s position. The eclipse had already started, though the cloud cover hid it from her view. No matter, she was pleased to see totality was going to occur within the window of time the storm was going to be passing through. Now that the eye was here, she would have a clear view of the eclipse. This particular celestial event was a long one, almost one hundred minutes, extended in length because of the distance from Earth to the moon. A blood moon, in the farthest position in its elliptical away from Earth, and a lunar eclipse, all at the same moment—and this was why Nevaeh had chosen tonight for her bomb. Even Mars was shining bright, brighter than it ever had before. A miracle. An omen. The god of war favored her, of course he did. Did the Numen recognize Mars? She shook her head at herself.

As she’d planned, the space station would pass through just as the bomb went off. Well, they’d taken the space station from her, she would return the favor, with the Numen’s blessing.

It was exceptional timing. The only thing she hadn’t foreseen was the typhoon, but even it was behaving, as if the Numen had created the storm to help hide her from her enemies.

Of course, she’d hardened Aquarius against the EMP, with every precaution taken to make sure they weren’t blown offline when the blast occurred and the waves of radiation burst through the atmosphere. The facility was at a state of readiness, everyone on alert. Despite the storm, she’d ordered her security forces stationed around the perimeter of the main grounds. Kiera was in charge of them. She knew Kiera was capable of handling anything that might happen so Nevaeh could have this moment for herself. Even now, she knew Kiera was walking around the facility, making sure everything was safe and secure.

But she wasn’t taking any chances. On the off chance Aquarius went offline at the wrong moment, the satellite’s onboard computer could operate autonomously. As much as she was looking forward to the pleasure of pressing the button and setting off the trigger, if she or her systems were somehow disabled, her failsafe would kick in and the bomb would go off anyway.

She’d thought of everything. Everything. She was a genius, and she’d had years to plan. There was nothing stopping this countdown. Nothing.

The programs were running flawlessly. She walked to her prized telescope in the next room. Since the eye of the storm was upon them, she felt safe opening the roof for a moment to admire the eclipse. It took five minutes for the domed roof to retract—five minutes she spent getting into position.

Her telescope was magnificent. Modeled after the VLT—Very Large Telescope—in Chile, with its state-of-the-art adaptive-optics module, it gave her the clearest imaginable view of the planets and satellites, nearly as impressive as images from the Hubble Space Telescope. Of course it was unheard of for a private citizen to have this level of technology. But as Nevaeh had learned, money could fix anything, and she’d been able to have the telescope built and installed without a problem, without a trace. She’d stolen, skimmed money from Galactus, and used shell companies, fake names, and a series of numbered bank accounts run through multiple countries. And she almost forgot—Thank you, Khaleed Al-Asaad, for your small but important financial contribution.

No one knew she was here. No one knew Dr. Nevaeh Patel was behind the secret Aquarius Observatory. Even the men who’d worked to build the facility didn’t know who she was, only the assumed name she gave them, Dr. Colombo, like their nearest city.

She climbed into the seat, settling her white toga around her as it whirred to life, moving into place until she was lying back at a perfect 32.7-degree angle, not lying down but comfortably reclined on her back. The ocular lens moved into position and the control panel rose and locked in front of her. She could program the telescope to look wherever in the universe she wanted.

She’d often looked for signs of the Numen, never finding a trace, but she knew they would be corporeal when they came to her. Wouldn’t they? Or would they make her like them? And what would that be?

She smiled at her questions, not really caring. She wanted to see her eclipse.

She pressed a button on the control panel. The lights dimmed until the huge circular room was black. She closed her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the sudden darkness, opened them, then looked through the ocular lens.