Chapter 40 #2
“And when the phoenix is made whole,” said Owen, as though reciting a prophecy, “the world will know forever.”
“The phoenix will rise,” muttered the men holding me and several of the others.
Goosebumps rose along my arms.
They were all fucking crazy zealots.
The most dangerous type of people in the world.
I tried to step forward, but the men held tight. What was I going to do? How could I convince them to stop? They were all armed, so calling Rav would just get him killed.
My team from Pendragon was on their way.
Could I turn Owen against Martinelli?
We’d only worked together for six months before the relationship turned romantic.
That only lasted six more months, until I’d decided I could trust him with the horrible truth mapped across my skin.
I’d assumed if the scars were all it took for him to end things between us, that his feelings for me were literally only skin-deep.
But he thought I was in love with him. Could I use that to delay them until Bobcat and the team arrived? The six of them, plus Rav, would swarm up here and stop Fenix from deploying the weapon.
What was there to say? Playing dumb wasn’t the answer. But maybe playing ignorant would.
“The liquid form has the healing factor,” I said, grasping at the only idea I had—get Owen talking about the science. Show him how smart you think he is. “What are the fireworks for?”
Owen turned to me suddenly, breaking Martinelli’s grasp on him. “Polymers, Brooke!”
That didn’t explain anything. He and I worked on polymer barriers and even co-authored a couple of papers.
Except it did explain things.
“Yes,” he breathed, walking slowly toward me. “You understand now, don’t you?”
“You found a way to suspend the liquid inside the fireworks?”
“Exactly!”
I skimmed through his insane ramblings before finding the answer. “You found a way to trigger the polymer barrier to rupture at the right temperature.”
Owen turned his head slightly, speaking to Martinelli without taking his eyes off me. “I told you she was brilliant, didn’t I?”
“As the powdered Greek Fire hits something, the liquid releases.” Dual-form damage.
A vision of thousands of people writhing on the ground in agony filled my mind.
I leaned toward Owen, my shoulders screaming as I pulled against my captors. “It’s not stable. You’re going to kill a lot of people.”
Owen waved a hand, as though their deaths were inconsequential.
“They won’t die.” Martinelli flicked his gaze toward the laptop, and two of his followers began walking between the firework stations, checking connections and adjusting one of the mortars’ angles.
“It will simply create thermal damage. Then the liquid will attempt to regenerate the damaged tissue. In most people, it simply causes more damage. But in some—perhaps one in a thousand, perhaps more—it will trigger true regeneration. And from their blood, we synthesize the cure.”
“That’s not how science works.” I stepped back, the ache in my shoulders too much. “We use computer models for things this dangerous. And my tests say—”
“Evolution has always required suffering.” Martinelli made the sign of the cross and looked heavenward. Thinking of his daughter? “The weak die, the strong survive, the species improves.”
“Evolution is more complex than that.” Keep him talking.
“If simple survival were all that mattered, human females wouldn’t live past menopause.
But they do, because grandmothers increase grandchild survival rates by thirty percent in most cultures.
Evolution isn’t about individual strength.
It’s about community survival, accumulated knowledge, mutual support—”
“Are you finished with your reproductive years, Dr. McAllister?”
After the incident in Barin Kala, the doctors had suggested my future health status was unknown. There had been so many arsenical compounds in my system that they were still watching for organ failure. For cancer.
I’d closed the door on the idea of being a mother so long ago, but still, the question hit differently tonight.
Did Rav want kids?
Focus, Brooke. Distract them. Slow them down.
Give your team a chance to get here.
“How did you find Haddad’s research in the first place?”
“He said he would heal my daughter, but she died anyway.” Martinelli waved one of his faithful to the laptop. “He was one more charlatan in a long line of men who saw dollar signs when they looked at me. But I put an end to his scheming.”
My stomach lurched. He’d funded Haddad’s research, and then what? Was Martinelli behind Haddad’s death and the destruction of his lab? No, if he had been, he would have had all the research. More likely, Haddad had realized that Martinelli was a madman and destroyed everything to stop him.
“Sir?” said the man at the laptop. “I apologize for interrupting, but we’re five minutes behind schedule.”
“You’re dying,” I blurted out. “Let me help. I’ve been working with the formula for three years. I know more than anyone else does about it.”
“You’re right, I don’t have enough time for empty promises of one more month or one more year.” He nodded to the man at the laptop. “Prepare the sequence.”
He paused, looking out over the lights of Naples. The music from the festival drifted up, mixing with distant laughter—happy people who had no idea what was about to rain down on them.
“I work at a big lab,” I said, frantically searching for the lie that would convince him to stop. “We have top-tier researchers. You don’t have to do this!”
Owen moved closer, and I tried to pull away, but the guards held me in place.
His fingers touched my collar, pushing the fabric aside to inspect more of the scarring.
“Don’t worry, Brooke. Once we identify the marker, the phoenix will heal you, and you’ll be beautiful again. We can have our second chance.”
Second chance? The delusion in his voice made my skin prickle. He actually thought I’d want him after this?
The man at the laptop offered Martinelli a firing switch attached to a cable. “Press the button when you’re ready.”
Martinelli waved them all closer. “The phoenix will protect us.”
Everyone started moving toward the golden statue.
My boots scraped against the stone as I tried to resist the guards pushing me forward, but I wasn’t strong enough.
Maybe I could use the forward momentum and take out the laptop or the control box.
They wouldn’t be able to launch if I did that, would they?
The guards had my arms, but neither of them had my feet or my head. I stomped on the instep of the man to my right, who immediately let go. I rammed an elbow into his stomach, doubling him over.
I reached for my baton, flicked it out to its full length, but the guard on my left twisted my arm harder, and I couldn’t suppress my sharp cry of pain. I dropped the baton, and he landed a blow to my side that dropped me to my knees.