Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Sky sat next to Godfrey in the back of his motorboat. Outwardly, she appeared calm, but inside, she was shaking. Doumar was steering. The sun was already setting. Godfrey had insisted on a long, drawn-out celebration lunch after which he kept them waiting several more hours while he took care of business.
“What prevents those black magic witches from using their art on us?” Doumar had asked during their lunch.
Godfrey had lit a cigar and dragged on it before replying, “A gas will be released in the aircraft once the doors are sealed. Thanks to their scapulimancist, I’ve discovered that a drug concocted from magic mushrooms renders their art impotent. They won’t be able to lift a finger.”
“If you say so,” Doumar had replied.
Godfrey had reached over and taken her hand. A sharp prick had made her cry out. She’d lifted her hand to inspect the damage. Her finger had been bleeding.
“My cell sample,” he’d said with a grin. “The rest is with my wife in Brazil.” He’d placed the tube pen in his pocket. “When this one gets to my lab, the world will be saved.”
The boat sped up, pulling Sky back to the present. She shivered in the baggy coat she’d buttoned up over her flimsy lace dress as the warmth of the day evaporated. It felt colder on the water. The light of the dying day fell in a musky rose on the mirror-smooth surface of the canal. When they passed the old parliament, her stomach contracted into a tight ball.
Seemingly sensing her anguish, Godfrey patted her hand. “You’ll see your son soon.”
At the words, Doumar glanced at them, his expression saying otherwise.
Up ahead was the bridge where they docked and waited. On cue, an explosion rocked the building on the canal front a few miles ahead. Sky watched with growing dread as a motorbike and two SUV’s parked and the occupants exited. They ran for the helipad, Bono in the lead. The blades started turning as the last of the group piled inside.
The helicopter lifted an inch off the ground before a malfunctioning alarm sounded. The craft tipped. Another smaller explosion ripped the blades apart.
“What’s going on?” she asked, unable to hide the panic in her voice.
“My technician tampered with their aircraft,” Godfrey said with pride. “Thanks to overriding the system, their instruments didn’t pick up the malfunctions. Plus, the automatic locking system is stuck, preventing them from opening the doors.”
Godfrey got to his feet with satisfaction etched on his face. When she made no sign of moving, Doumar grabbed her arm and jerked her upright, pushing her behind Godfrey toward the land. As they approached the craft, Joss pointed a weapon in their direction and pulled the trigger, but the bullet didn’t penetrate the bulletproof glass.
Bono turned his head toward her. Yellow aviator glasses obscured his eyes, making it impossible to read his expression as he realized her betrayal, but his lips mouthed, “I love you.”
The scene she’d seen when reading Joss’s palm unfolded. People with Medusa posters stormed the craft and threw rotten food at the windows. A few who carried pesticide spray tanks opened the nozzles, drenching the aircraft in liquid. The smell was familiar. It wasn’t the pungent odor of crop or mosquito pesticide, but the sharp odor of diesel. They’d filled their tanks with fuel on purpose.
Godfrey laughed as he fitted the earpiece that connected him to the aircraft communication system. “Hello, Cain. I don’t have much to say, but I’m going to enjoy hearing your screams.” To Sky he said, “The glass and metal are fireproof, but don’t worry. The temperature inside will rise to a level that will cook them alive.”
Doumar’s fingers cut into her arm. “You will watch.” He removed his earpiece and inserted it in her ear. “And listen.”
She fixed her gaze on Bono’s face, whispering, “I’m sorry.”
He pressed his palm against the glass, the finality of a farewell written on his face.
Godfrey took a box of matches with a Black Lily emblem from his pocket. Before he could strike a match, she took the detonator from her pocket and lifted it into the air with her finger on the trigger button.
Through the communication system, Bono’s voice came to her. “No!”
Godfrey spun around, staring at her with surprise.
Doumar dropped his hand from her arm and took a step back. “You conniving cunt.”
“Don’t move.” She unbuttoned the coat with one hand to expose the explosives strapped to her body. “Throw your weapons on the ground.”
Pandemonium broke out under the protesters as they realized the danger and crushed each other in a stampede to get away.
Godfrey’s face contorted in cold fury while Doumar looked at her with hatred as they threw their pistols at her feet.
“This is the only way,” she said.
Bono’s voice held a plea. “Don’t do this, Sky.”
She kept her eyes on Godfrey and Doumar, not daring to let them out of her sight. “You’ll be safe in the aircraft. It’s bullet and fireproof, but it’s blast-proof too. I saw it in your palm.”