The Lost Key (A Brit in the FBI 2) - Page 118

“Kick them to me!”

They did. Now they were unarmed, and he had the control, the power. Havelock breathed in deep and smelled the strawberry scent of Sophie’s hair mixing with the sulfur breath of the room, the perfect combination of heaven and hell.

“Tell me why, Havelock,” Nicholas said. “Tell me why you murdered your own father, betrayed your friends and all you’ve ever known to get this weapon.”

“Betrayal, murder? Who truly decides these things, my dear Drummond? Even Madame Curie had to make a choice all those years ago. She could have given the polonium to the Order, as they’d planned. Instead, she decided to keep it all to herself, and hide it down here. And it’s taken someone like me to find it. I know exactly how to use her weapon to its best advantage. Listen to me, both of you, and listen carefully. I will stop wars. I will end centuries of violence. I am giving the world a gift.

“With my technology, with my tiny little implants, you’ll be able to see things happen even as they’re being communicated. I have single-handedly changed the gathering of intelligence. I will be able to target the real villains, our true enemies, and I will destroy them before they do any more harm.”

Nicholas said, “You actually believe that another weapon of mass destruction will save the world?”

“Of course. With my power, and your knowledge and acceptance of my power, every country in the world will do exactly as I say. No longer will one country have dominance over another. No longer will one country be rich at the expense of another. All the power will reside in the palm of my hand, in a four-inch-square box. I will give the world peace and hope, and the will to lead a better life.”

“With you making all the decisions? How people will act, what their futures hold? Will you have everyone bow before you? Will you have huge statues of yourself erected everywhere so that people may bow down and worship you?”

Havelock appeared to consider this. He smiled. “Perhaps inside buildings there will be walls with my image on them, always watching. So no one will forget.”

Mike said, “Every law enforcement agency on the planet is after you. There is no way you will make people bow down in front of you. You’re certifiable.”

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Havelock merely nodded at his backpack. “Ah, Agent Caine, how little imagination you have. Think, dear girl, I will be the one giving all those precious law enforcement agencies the orders.”

The longer he talked, Nicholas knew, the more likely it was that the commander’s people would come looking. Keep him talking, it was their best chance.

Sophie’s hands were tied in front of her, Havelock’s scalpel digging into her neck. She couldn’t move, except for her eyes. She was staring at Nicholas, and she began to blink rapidly, her eyes never leaving his face. Then she turned her head a bit to the right. He looked, but didn’t see anything. What was she trying to tell him?

And then he saw it, a small glass beaker with a yellowish substance inside, and it was within her reach, if only she could pull free of Havelock.

Havelock was still talking about how he wouldn’t dismantle the law enforcement agencies because, after all, there were still criminals in the world. Nicholas began coughing, bending over, grabbing his stomach.

Havelock yelled, “What is wrong with you?” In that instant of distraction, Sophie jerked away from him and grabbed the glass beaker. Before he could stab her, she whirled around and smashed the beaker into Havelock’s face. The glass shattered, and he started to scream.

Nicholas sprang forward, stopped in his tracks. Havelock’s face was melting, the skin pouring off the bone. Whatever the acid in the beaker was, it had sat brewing one hundred years.

Nicholas grabbed the backpack from Havelock’s arms as he fell to the ground, screaming, screaming, clutching at his face, and screaming.

Mike picked up her Glock, put the muzzle against Havelock’s head, and pulled the trigger.

Havelock’s body twitched, then went still. Eyeballs stared blankly from the bones of his face at the ceiling of Curie’s lab.

“You okay?” Nicholas said and she looked at him and smiled faintly. “I am.”

Sophie pulled the gag out of her mouth. She stood over him. “He was a monster and he was mad.” Sophie suddenly sucked in her breath and looked down at her hand. A tiny bit of the acid had gotten on her skin and had left an angry red burn. Who cared? She looked up. “Thank you both for saving my li

fe.”

Mike untied her wrists, cupped Sophie’s hand. “We need to get you aboveground, quickly. We have no idea what that acid is.”

“It’s esprite de sel. Spirits of salt, also known as muriatic acid,” Sophie said. “It was on the label, and I knew what it would do.” She laughed through a sob. “I wonder why Madame Curie abandoned this lab but left the muriatic acid behind. Was she using it in her experiments?”

“We’ll never know,” Mike said. “There’s no one left to tell us.”

Nicholas took Sophie’s arms between his hands. “We didn’t save you, Sophie, you saved us. Well done.”

“We need to go get Adam,” Sophie said, but Nicholas held up a hand. They could hear Dendritte and her people shouting from higher in the tunnel.

Nicholas picked up the backpack that held Havelock’s MNW. “No one can ever say a word about what is in this box. We can’t let anyone, any government, any technology company, get their hands on this weapon. Agreed?”

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