"Your grandfather was right on the money with his calculations."
"But what was that thing, that incredible waterspout?"
Austin wasn't sure what was happening but suspected that the push-pull of electromagnetic pulses from the ship and the plane had set into motion unimaginable forces.
"Nature doesn't like being messed around with. The combination of the antidote and the initial transmissions created a strong reaction." He smiled. "It's like taking something for an upset stomach. There's always a last eruption or two before things settle down for the better."
"Then it's over, finally."
"I hope so." Austin called the cockpit, and asked, "How's the compass doing?"
"Normal," Zavala said. "Still pointing to the north pole, more or less."
Barrett hadn't moved from behind the control panel. When he heard Zavala's report, he slapped his hands together. He came over and gave Karla and Austin big hugs.
"We did it," he said. "By God, we did it."
Austin replied with a weary grin. "So we did," he said. "So we did."
43
Doyle was glad that this would be his last trip to the lighthouse island. He had never liked the place. He had grown up in the city, and the remote beauty was lost on him. He would be even happier once he had disposed of Lucifer's Legion and left the island forever.
He landed his plane near the island, tied up to a mooring buoy and rowed to the dock where one of the Lucifer creeps was waiting to greet him. He could never remember their names and told them apart by hair color. This was the red-haired guy who, because he most resembled Margrave, seemed to have an elevated status in the group, although he was short of being a leader, anathema to the pure anarchists.
"Haven't seen you since our car chase outside Washington," the man said in a soft-spoken voice that sounded like the rustle of a snake in dry leaves. "Too bad your friends got away."
"There's always another time," Doyle said. "We'll tend to Austin and his friends once we
take care of the Elites."
"I'll look forward to it. You should have let us know you were coming," the man said.
Doyle hefted a canvas bag he was carrying. "Tris wanted to surprise you."
The answer seemed to satisfy the legionnaire. He nodded, and accompanied Doyle to the elevator that whisked them to the top of the cliff.
The other Lucifers were waiting on the lighthouse bluff, and when Doyle repeated his reason for coming to the island they gave him that unnerving grin. They all headed for the keeper's house. Doyle led the way to Margrave's kitchen. He got six glasses and a beer and placed them on the table.
He pulled a bottle of champagne from the bag and poured it around. Then he opened the can of beer and held it high.
"Here's to the imminent destruction of the Elites."
The red-haired man laughed. "You've been hanging around with us anarchist types too long, Doyle. You're starting to sound as crazy as the rest of us."
Doyle gave him a friendly wink. "Must be catching. Cheers."
He upended his beer and drank half the contents of the can. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, watching with pleasure as the Lucifers tossed down their champagne as if it were water.
"By the way, Margrave wanted me to give this to you."
The package had come the day before. With it was a note, signed by Gant.
The note said: "Plans for PS postponed until next week. Please give this gift to our friends in Maine after you share a special bottle of champagne with them. Say it's a gift from Margrave. Very important to wait until they drink their champagne."
The red-haired Lucifer opened the package. It was a DVD disk. He shrugged and slipped it into the DVD player. A few seconds later, a still picture of Gant's face appeared on the screen.
"I want Lucifer's Legion disposed of," Gant's voice said.