The Devil's Triangle (A Brit in the FBI 4)

He lifted the keyboard from his grandfather’s main computer. “Cassandra, something’s taped to the bottom.”

He carefully pulled a folded piece of paper off, unfolded it. Ajax couldn’t believe it. “No wonder he kept it close, it’s instructions, directions, if you will. It’s long and it’s complicated, just like you thought, no way to remember all of it or memorize it.

“Cassandra, making the storm go in a certain direction is all based on longitude and latitude of the target, and that determines the angle of the lasers—some intersect at certain degrees, others simply align in a specific pattern. I must find the longitude and latitude of Washington.” He flung himself in front of Jason’s computer.

He punched some keys, laughed. “I love Google. Washington is 38 degrees, 89 minutes north longitude, 77 degrees, 3 minutes, west latitude. Now—”

“What have you done? Oh no, Dr. Kohath!” Aaron Burnley fell to his bony knees beside their grandfather, grabbing his hands, rubbing them, pulling out a handkerchief, wiping the blood from his forehead, daubing at his eyes. He stared up at Cassandra. “What have you done? Why did you hurt him? He’s the greatest man who ever lived, he’s your grandfather! Are you insane?”

“I’m not insane!” She kicked Burnley in the face and he fell over their grandfather. She looked toward her brother. “I never liked him. He looks like a ghoul, all skinny and pasty-skinned.”

But Ajax wasn’t paying any attention. “Now that I have longitude and latitude, I need to calculate the position of the lasers to determine directionality. Give me a minute and I’ll get it.”

She saw a glint of something shiny. She leaned down and shoved the unconscious Burnley off her grandfather. His shirt had ripped when he’d fallen, and around his neck she saw a gold chain, and hanging from that gold chain was a double-hasped director’s key. “Ajax, I’d forgotten. It’s impossible to get into the vault without this key, then the combination. It’s a double-safe.”

He was still doing calculations, didn’t look at her. “We don’t need to get into the vault now. Forget it.”

“No, no, he’s hiding something in there, something important, maybe Mother’s notebooks. Who knows? Maybe even the Ark. I’ve got to get it open.”

“Hold on, another minute.” Then he was madly typing in numbers. He spun around in their grandfather’s chair. “I’ve done it! The storm is huge and it’s heading straight for Washington, D.C.

“Three hours, Cassandra, three hours! The winds will slam into the city, flatten it, and the water will rise from the Potomac and drown them all. D.C. will be gone, like that.” He snapped his fingers. “And that Drummond character, he has no idea where we are. We’re safe, at last we’re safe. He’ll go back to the U.S. to nothing at all.”

“Ajax, the vault!”

He was shaking his head at her. “You think the Ark could be in the vault? Mother’s notebooks? That’s crazy, Cassandra. Impossible.”

“Get the thief. Get her now.”

A light began to flash on Jason’s desk. Cassandra reached down and hit the button. “Yes?”

“Madam, this is Amos, on the dock. Rafael is on his way in. Apparently he was able to get your food shipment moved up, and he’s flying it in.”

“Tell Guzman to turn back. Not today.”

“It’s too late, Ms. Kohath. They are on their way.”

Ajax said, “Hang on, Amos. How could Rafael have gotten it to us so quickly? No one knew we were coming.”

Amos said, “Evidently all was ready and so Rafael believed it would please you. He will be here shortly. Captain Snelling will meet the plane and unload the supplies. You need to bring the island into view. Now.”

This, at least, was something Ajax knew how to do, shown to him by their grandfather when he was still a boy. He punched in the code to lower the electromagnetic shield.

Burnley moaned.

“Oh, kill the idiot! I’ll get the thief.”

Ajax pulled his stiletto out of his jacket pocket, leaned down, and slid it into Burnley’s heart.

A strange metallic sound rang out above them. They looked up to see the metal catwalk flex.

Ajax wiped his stiletto off on Burnley’s shirt and rose, still looking up, frowning.

Cassandra jumped. “What is that?”

“I don’t know, but we’d better find out.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE