But why then was the Heaven Stone so heavy, so very cold when she touched it, even when she squeezed it in her hand? It never warmed. It remained completely inert, like a simple rock. A very heavy rock, and that wasn’t natural. What did it mean? No, she had to believe once she was with the Numen, the Heaven Stone would recognize them as blessed, recognize the worthiness of their goal, and would grant her immortality and that which she wanted most, if it hadn’t already, simply with her possession of it.
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 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.
The darkening moon was visible, as she’d hoped. It was incredible to see the red-tinged shadow caused by the Earth’s atmosphere settle like a dusky pink sunset on the face of the moon. Even more incredible to know the Earth was passing between the sun and the moon, causing this shadow to move across the entire mass. The shape of the moon was unique in this moment, a view rarely seen, and it brought tears to her eyes.
How many people were staring in awe at the skies? She’d done so as a child, as a young woman, as an adult—stared up into the sky at celestial events with wonder, with hope, knowing one day, if she did everything right, she would be among the stars. Their ancestors must have been terrified at such a sight—the moon growing dark, then becoming drenched in red. Unexplainable, so for many it became an evil portent of what was to come.
As an astronaut, she’d been in orbit during an eclipse, had seen the moon’s shadow move across the Earth from the window of the space station.
She said softly, “You are coming to me.”
The Numen spoke as one, their voice clear as the tolling of bells. Yes, we are coming to you.
A small chime sounded, a warning that a door had been opened into her sanctuary.
She called, “Go away. I’m working.”
Kiera raced into the room, calling for the lights to come on. They blazed to life, and she saw Nevaeh lying back, dressed in white, looking ready for a Roman orgy.
Had she been talking to the Numen again? No time, no time. She ran to Patel and tried to pull her off the chair. “Someone has breached the gates. You’ve got to get up.”
Nevaeh stared at her. “What did you say? Someone is here? That’s impossible. Through a typhoon? Through the jungle? Through our gates?”
Kiera shook her. “Yes, yes, they’re inside the gates! I need to get you secure.”
No time, no time. Kiera slapped at the button to close the roof of the observatory as she ran with Nevaeh through the door.
She didn’t realize she’d missed the button.
The roof stayed open.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
&n
bsp; T-MINUS 40 MINUTES
Nicholas and Mike called in to Adam, who answered before the first ring ended. “What blew up? Are you okay?”
“It was an IED,” Nicholas said. “We have two casualties and two injuries on the team. We’re going to need a medevac. Vince Mills, the CIA agent, is hurt badly. Mike and I are all right, we were behind the main group. I don’t know how you get someone to authorize a chopper to come up here, Mills said everything was grounded, which is why we drove in the first place, but someone has to do it, or he’ll die.”
“I’m on it. Grace is on the other line freaking out. Let me tell him, hang on.”
Mike shouted, “Grace is on the other line? What’s that about? Adam, what’s going on there?”
Nicholas gestured at the other CIA agents. “I would assume Grace is watching his team.”
Adam came back. “Yes, many more than Grace are watching. The White House Situation Room has all of this being broadcast live, so make sure you wave at the satellite next time you’re outside. They’re working their end to help you knock out this nuke, trying to identify the satellite. There’s a ton of classified stuff happening. You’ll be happy to know the International Space Station has changed course and if the EMP goes off, they’ll be okay—one win.”
Mike said, “Good. The winds have calmed, Adam. Are we in the eye?”
“Yes. If the countdown coincides with the peak totality of the eclipse, you have exactly forty minutes. The eye will finish passing over you in forty-five minutes, so you have no time to waste. I’ve been watching the satellite feed, and the roof of the observatory opened about fifteen minutes ago and the telescope moved. As far as I can see, the roof is still open.”
Nicholas shot Mike a look, rubbed his hands together. “We’ve always had good luck with roof entries. Well, maybe some good luck.”
Mike said, “If the team can draw the guards’ attention to the main entrance, we can get past them undetected and go in through the roof. Adam, we’re signing off, but we have comms. Shout if we’re about to run into trouble.”
“Will do. The president and vice president say good luck—and get this stopped, or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Well, that was implied. They’d probably have you pay triple taxes or something. Lia’s going to take over now. See you on comms.”
A moment later, their earwigs in place, Lia Scott’s voice crackled to life.
“Hey, you two. I’m going to walk you in, Adam’s going to keep working the computer. When you’re ready, let me know.”
“Copy that. Good to hear your voice, Lia.”
Nicholas grabbed Bernard and Honeycut. Mills was too out of it, so Nicholas was going to have to take over his CIA team.
He said, “Here’s the plan. Honeycut, you take your crew and head straight at them. Draw the guard’s attention away from the observatory. Mike and I will circle the periphery and head in. The roof is open but we have no idea for how long. We have to move now. We’ve called in a medevac for Mills and anyone else who ends up needing help off the mountain.”
Bernard said, “I will stay and coordinate the rescue.”
Mike shook his hand. “Thank you, Bernard. You’ve been a lifesaver.”
He smiled, gave her a short bow. “You as well, I hope.”
Mike pulled on gloves and cleaned her glasses as Nicholas and Honeycut worked out a few final details. She went through her weapons, realized she was missing something vital.
“Rope?” she asked Bernard’s nephew. He yanked open a locker and tossed her a perfectly bundled tactical rappelling rope. “Excellent, exactly what I needed. Thanks.”
She tied the rope around her waist and yanked her hands on her belt to make sure it was on good and tight, then turned her M4 around and strapped it in place. She had double holsters on her legs, checked her Glocks and her M4. She dug into Mills’s bag, found a Ka-Bar knife, strapped it inside her leg, stuffed one Glock into her belt. Satisfied, she crossed her hands on top of her M4, grinned at Nicholas. “Shall we?”
“One moment,” Honeycut said, and handed Nicholas a night-vision monocular. Nicholas pulled the strap onto his head then topped it with a backward baseball cap to hold it in place. Honeycut nodded, then turned his attention to Mike.
“Your hair’s going to shine in the lights. Take this,” and he tossed her a black watch cap. She stuffed her hair under it, reset her comms, nodded her thanks. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. As for Nicholas, he was as loaded down with weapons as she was. He looked ready to wrestle a bear, and maybe he’d take him down.
She said, “Everyone ready?” Nods all around. “Good, let’s roll,” and one by one, the CIA operatives slipped into the night. After a count of five, she and Nicholas followed, heading in the opposite direction.
The air was still, incredibly humid, wet and thick. She felt like she was walking with a wet washcloth draped over her mouth and nose. Nicholas was in front of her. All she could hear was his breath, coming a little harder than normal. Adrenaline, she thought. He’s as ramped up as I am.
“Hey, Lia. We’re on the move.”
“I see you. Head to your west forty feet, then stop. There’s a guard behind the tree but he’s looking in the other direction. Move quiet.”
They made their way from tree to tree on cats’ feet, thankful the heavy rains had made the ground soft, but still they had to take care, the mud sucked at their boots. Finally, they hit the cement paths that curved around the facility.
There was a burst of gunfire from Honeycut and the other CIA agents. Mike started to move, but Lia said, “Wait, wait, guards are responding to the gunfire, they’ll be passing in front of you in three, two, one—” And a squad of six men ran past them, all dressed in black. Lia said, “Go. Now!” and they took off, sprinting in the opposite direction, toward the observatory.
It was almost half a mile from the gates to the building. They ran quickly, crouched low, trying to blend into the night around them.
They were almost there when Lia shouted, “Stop! Guard.”
A man stepped into their path, weapon in his hand, his mouth open in surprise. He was starting to raise his weapon when Nicholas leaped on him, took him down. The man hadn’t had time to make a sound. He fell hard on the cement, headfirst. He didn’t move.
Lia said, “You’re clear. Keep moving.”
Nicholas took the man’s guns, stuffed them into his belt, and they jogged the rest of the way to the observatory. It was only two stories high, a relief. Mike attached a hook to the rope and tossed it to the roof in a beautiful parabola. It hooked on the edge of the roof, and she yanked hard on it, setting it in place.
Nicholas said, “Nice one. Look up.”
She did, and the sight took her breath away. The moon was disappearing in a red haze, the Earth’s shadow pushing across the face like the moon was being eaten by darkness, one sliver at a time.
He squeezed her shoulder. “You go first.”
Mike slung the M4 to her back and started to climb.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
T-MINUS 20 MINUTES
Mike planted her feet against the building and hauled herself up the rope, one hand over the other, blessing all those days in the gym. Nicholas was right behind her. She tried to regulate her breathing, but by the time they hit the roof, she was panting. It was hot, the gear was heavy, she’d just scaled two stories. And there was more to come. She was grateful the rain had let up for a while, though without the winds to wash the air clean, the forest smelled of must and rot.
The roofline led to a gravel top that worked as a moat surrounding the observatory dome itself, which rose one hundred feet above them. Nicholas scrambled over the edge, blew out a deep breath.
Mike pointed at the dome. “It’s still open at the top, about a fifty-foot gap across. You ready to climb some more?”
Nicholas had his night-vision monocular on, swept his head around the roofline. “Look over there.”
She followed his
finger. On the far edge of the dome, she could make out a black metal staircase. It blended with the roof of the observatory so perfectly she could barely see it in the dark.
“Oh joy, now it’s time for the StairMaster. Bring the rope, we can rappel in from the top.”
He smothered a laugh and they crept across the gravel-topped roof to the stairs.
The metal staircase clanked and rang out as they started up, but the gunfight happening on the other side of the campus covered any noise they made. Nicholas looked up once, saw the moon was taking on an almost orangish hue as the eclipse moved closer and closer to totality.
He said quietly, “It’s beautiful. Wish we were sitting on a beach watching this, champagne in hand.”
Mike said, “You and me both, maybe you feeding me some grapes. Weren’t we supposed to be having our last day in Rome right now?” She gave a manic grin, and shrugged. “Oh well. Come on, one more flight and we’re there.”
When they were in position, Mike tied the rappelling hook to the staircase, and they shimmied up the remainder of the dome’s exterior. It was like climbing a cracked-open eggshell, if the eggshell had a square wainscoting pattern on it, the edges of which were excellent foot- and handholds. It took a few minutes to scale the dome, but they finally reached the open top and looked down.
There was a massive telescope above a reclined chair. The room was brightly lit, but empty, as far as they could see.
Mike said, “No guards. We can go in.”
Nicholas nodded and wrapped the rope around his arm, positioning himself to give Mike the first ride down. She grabbed the rope and set her feet. She was about to go when he yanked back on the rope and she sailed out of position and slammed facefirst on the roof.
The Last Second Page 29