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Well, what if it was subjected to a bit of Dahl madness. How would that work?

As the display showed one, the Swede already had the sledgehammer in hand. He brought it down with last-gasp, final-move strength, swinging with all his might. The sledgehammer smashed into the heart of the nuclear bomb and even in that endless second he saw Drake’s horror, Alicia’s acceptance. And then he saw no more.

The clock ticked

Zero.

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

Time stopped for nobody, and especially at this crucial hour.

Drake saw Dahl with his body prostrate over the bomb as if he might shield his friends and the world from its terrible fire. He saw the metal casing bent, the insides dented, battered, surrounding the sledgehammer; and then he saw the countdown timer.

Stuck on zero.

“Oh fuck,” he said in the most heartfelt manner possible. “Oh bloody fuck.”

One by one, the team became aware. Drake breathed fresh air he’d never expected to taste again. He crawled over to Dahl and slapped the Swede’s broad back. “Good lad,” he said. “Hit it with a big hammer. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Being a Yorkshireman,” Dahl spoke into the core of the bomb. “I wondered that too.”

Drake dragged him backward. “Listen,” he said. “This thing’s stuck, right? Maybe broken inside. But what’s to stop it starting again?”

“We are,” said a voice from behind.

Drake turned to see both NEST and bomb squad teams approaching with packs and open laptops in hand. “You guys are late,” he breathed.

“Yeah, man. We usually are.”

Kinimaka, Yorgi and Lauren started to untangle Hayden from the bizarre mesh she shared with Zoe Sheers and Julian Marsh. The two Pythians were covered up as much as could be but didn’t seem overly bothered by their nakedness.

“I helped,” Marsh said over and over. “Don’t forget to tell them I helped.”

Hayden ended up on her knees, rolling each limb to allow circulation to return, and rubbing areas where joint pain had accumulated. Kinimaka gave her his jacket, which she gratefully accepted.

Alicia grabbed Drake’s shoulders, tears in her eyes. “We’re alive!” she cried.

And then she pulled him close, lips finding his, kissing him as hard as she could. Drake pulled away at first, but then realized he was exactly where he wanted to be. He kissed her back. Her tongue flashed out and found his, and their tensions fell away.

“Now that,” Smyth said, “has been a long time coming. Sorry, Mai.”

“Oh hell, I miss my wife,” Dahl said.

Beau stared, his face set like granite but otherwise unreadable.

Mai managed a weak smile. “If the tables were turned Alicia would be muttering something about joining in right now.”

“Feel free.” Alicia pulled away from Drake with a throaty chuckle. “I never kissed a movie star before.”

Smyth colored at the reference to older days. “Ah, I have now accepted that Mai is not in fact the great Maggie Q. Sorry about that.”

“I’m better than Maggie Q.” Mai smiled.

Smyth wilted, legs buckling. Lauren reached out to steady him.

Alicia cocked her head. “Oh, wait, I have kissed a movie star. Jack something. Or was that his screen name? Ah, two in fact. Or maybe three…”

Kenzie moved among them. “Nice kiss,” she said. “You never kissed me like that.”

“That’s only because you’re a bitch.”

“Ooh, thanks.”

“Wait,” Drake said. “You kissed Kenzie? When?”

“Old story,” Alicia said. “Barely remember.”

He made a point of catching her full attention with his eyes. “So, was that a ‘glad we’re alive’ kiss? Or something more?”

“What do you think?” Alicia looked wary.

“I think I’d like you to do it again.”

“Okay…”

“Later.”

“Sure. Because we have work to do.”

Drake looked now to Hayden, the leader of their team. “Ramses and Gator are still out there,” he said. “We can’t allow them to escape.”

“Umm, excuse me?” one of the bomb squad guys said.

Hayden looked to Marsh and Sheers. “You two can earn extra credit if you have information.”

“Ramses barely spoke to me,” Sheers said. “And Gator was the biggest lunatic I ever met. I wish I knew where they were.”

Drake stared at him. “Gator was the biggest lunatic—”

“Excuse me. Guys?” the NEST leader said.

Marsh glared. “Ramses is a bug,” he said. “I should have stamped on him when I had the chance. All that money — gone. The power, the prestige — gone. What will I do?”

“Rot in jail I hope,” Smyth said. “With a killer for company.”

“Listen!” the NEST people shouted.

Hayden looked over at them, then Dahl. Drake glanced past Alicia’s shoulder. The NEST team leader was on his feet and his face had turned pasty white, the color of absolute fear.

“This bomb is a dud.”

“What?”

“The electrical detonators are missing. The lenses cracked, I guess possibly from the hammer. But the uranium? Although we can detect traces, which tell us that it was once here, it… it’s missing.”

“No.” Drake felt his muscles tremble. “No way, you can’t be telling me this. Are you saying that this bomb was a fucking fake?”

“No,” the leader said, tapping at his laptop. “I’m telling you that this isn’t the right bomb. It’s been rendered harmless by removing all the parts that make it work. Now, it’s fake. This man — Ramses — probably has the real one.”

The team didn’t hesitate for a second.

Hayden reached for a phone and dialed Moore’s number. Drake shouted that she should call in choppers.

“How many do we need?”

“Fill the fucking skies,” he said.

Without complaint, they picked their aching bodies up and made a brisk sprint for the door. Hayden spoke fast as she ran, exhibiting no physical aftereffects from her treatment. It was the mental consequences that had the power to scar her forever.

“Moore, the bomb over at Central Park is a fake. Stripped out, closed down. We think the innards and explosive detonators were removed, then inserted into another device.”

Drake heard Moore’s gasp from three feet away.

“And we thought the nightmare was over.”

“This was Ramses’ plan all along.” Hayden kicked the outer door off its hinges without losing stride. “Now he detonates in his own time and escapes. Are there any choppers flying out of New York?”

“Military. Police. Special Ops, I guess.”

“Start there. He has a plan, Moore, and we believe Gator’s ex-Special Ops. How are the CCTV cams looking?”

“We’re compiling every face, every figure. We have been for hours. If Ramses is fleeing through the city we’ll pick him up.”

Drake hurdled a trash can, Dahl at his side. Choppers thundered overhead, two setting down on the road outside the zoo entrance. As he looked up, Drake saw beyond the churning rotors to the office buildings where, among the white blinds, many faces pressed to the windows. Social media would be imploding today, and allowing it to carry on had yielded zero results. Truth was, it had probably hampered their efforts.

Hayden raced for the closest chopper, stopping just outside the rotor wash. “This time,” she said to Moore. “Ramses won’t be showboating. That was all a diversion to help him survive. This is about his reputation — the Crown Prince of Terror repairing his status and going down in history. He brings a nuclear weapon to New York, detonates it, and escapes scot free. If you let him go now, Moore, you’ll never see him again. And the game will be up.”