Immanuel finds Lauren in one of the guest rooms, changing into dry clothes.
‘Lauren, I spoke with Chaney. He wants to help.’
‘Thank God.’ Lauren hugs her fiance, then follows him back to the office.
Chaney sits back in his chair and thinks. ‘Okay, young lady, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say Professor Gabeheart was murdered because he suspected something someone wanted kept quiet. How do we prove it? Where’s the evidence?’
‘The evidence is in Yellowstone,’ she says. ‘The evidence is hidden beneath the hot springs and caldera.’
‘Assume things are as bad as you say, that the caldera is getting ready to erupt. Who’d want to keep it secret? And how could they?’
‘They’d do it by shutting down the park. They’d want it kept a secret to prevent a widespread panic.’
‘Mr., uh… President, we need you to bring Gabeheart’s death and this entire issue into the public eye. Once you do that, it eliminates the need for outside parties to keep Lauren silent.’
Chaney nods. ‘Okay, consider it done. By Sunday morning, the story will be sent to every media outlet in the world. Only then will we bring the FBI in. Sound like a plan?’
‘Oh, God, thank you.’ Lauren wipes back tears of gratitude. ‘Thank you so much. And thank God you’re a big Miami booster.’ She looks at Immanuel. ‘Sam, I had no idea your father had such influential friends.’
Manny shrugs.
Chaney grins. ‘For now, the two of you will stay with me. Bad storm coming, but we should be okay.’ He stands, hobbling like an old soldier to the den door. ‘Come on, my wife’s prepared a Thanksgiving feast. Eat everything, or I’ll be dealing with leftovers past Christmas.’
Hangar 13, Kennedy Space Center,
Cape Canaveral, Florida
Hand in hand, Lilith and Jacob stand before the Balam ’s sealed entry.
‘Incredible,’ she whispers. ‘And this was built by our Hunahpu ancestors?’
‘No,’ Jacob says. ‘The origins of the starship remain a mystery.’
Danny Diaz, Dr. Mohr, Benjamin Merchant, and two gorillasized security guards join them on the gantry platform.
Merchant smiles. ‘Why, Lilith darlin’, you’re positively glowing. I’m extremely jealous.’
Jacob looks below. More than six hundred MTI technicians, scientists, and VIPs have gathered, all waiting to tour the interior of the sleek, gold-paneled vessel.
Lilith coos in his ear. ‘Open it, my love.’
‘Of course.’ Jacob closes his eyes.
The sealed panel door of the Balam slides open.
Lilith steps forward – and suddenly she is sent hurtling over the rail, falling to the crowd below.
The blur of movement that is Jacob Gabriel grabs Dave Mohr by his wrist, yanking the scientist inside the starship.
Lilith lands awkwardly atop the crowd. ‘Jacob!’ She scrambles to her feet. ‘Damn you, Jacob…’ She slips inside the nexus.
Jacob pulls Dave Mohr to his feet. ‘You okay?’
The scientist nods. ‘What happened?’
‘No time to explain, just hold on.’
A low rumbling sound, like a generator, echoes throughout the hangar, quickly increasing to a dull thunder.
The gantry trembles, sending the crowd rushing toward the nearest exits.
Lilith is flung free of the nexus as the long-dormant engines of the Balam power up. An invisible wave of electromagnetic energy is expelled from beneath the hull, blasting bodies, equipment, and ten years of dust in all directions.
Beneath this cushion of energy, the alien starship rises. Dorsal plates punch upward through the roof. Steel beams and metal sheeting tumble like kindling.
Lilith pulls herself free from beneath the fallen gantry and looks up, screaming her outrage, as the starship Balam disappears into the approaching gray storm clouds of Super-Cane Kenneth.
Delray Beach, Florida
11:37 p.m.
One-hundred-thirty-mile-an-hour gusts whip through the deserted streets of Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach Counties, announcing the arrival of Super-Cane Kenneth’s outer wind bands. The once-tranquil ocean swells thirty-five feet, the storm surge submerging the beach before pouring over sea walls to inundate scenic highway A-1-A. Waves lap against storefronts. A driving rain lashes palm fronds and debris, turning refuse into miniature missiles.
And the superstorm’s eye is still nine hours out to sea.
Cuddling beneath the blanket, Immanuel Gabriel curls his naked body around Lauren, nuzzling her neck, while outside, fierce winds hammer the steel hurricane storm shutters.
‘I feel safe in your arms,’ Lauren whispers.
‘I missed you.’
‘Why you were at the Cape?’
‘I was… visiting a relative.’
She rolls over to face him. ‘Who?’
‘My mother. My biological mother.’
‘I don’t understand?’
‘Lauren, I was adopted. I never told you about it because, well, I sort of wrote them out of my life long ago.’
She sits up. ‘Them?’
‘I have a brother. I saw him this week for the first time in six years. He has problems, mental problems. My mother may have to put him in an asylum. That’s why I had to come up to the Cape this week. She wanted me to see him before he’s locked away.’
‘I don’t know what to say. Are you okay with all this?’
‘Guess I’m a little screwed up.’
‘Can I meet them?’
‘Someday.’
She lays her head on his chest. ‘All this time, I had this terrible premonition you were getting ready to leave me.’
He swallows the lump in his throat. ‘I’m not leaving you.’
‘Promise?’
The wind howls outside and he hugs her tighter. ‘I’m not leaving you, Lauren. I promise.’
Hope Control Room, MTI Operational Headquarters,
Cocoa Beach, Florida
Saturday
2:35 a.m.
Lilith Mabus is in her late husband’s private office, seated before a wall of computer monitors. The upper two rows are real-time links being broadcast from NATS-Nanosat Trailblazer Spheres-cluster satellites, no larger than a basketball. Thousands of these spheres orbit the Earth, scanning every square inch of the planet.
Despite NATS extensive coverage, the alien starship is nowhere to be found.
‘Computer, replay security sequence.’
Another set of screens activate, revealing different angles of the perimeter security fencing surrounding Hangar 13.
The figure of a dark-haired man appears on screen. He crosses the compound and heads for the fence. Pauses, then practically vaults over the steel barrier before disappearing into the night.
Lilith’s azure eyes widen. ‘Computer, rewind and replay sequence at half speed.’
The image begins again.
‘Freeze. Focus on subject’s face. Increase magnification by ten.’
A blue square frames the man’s face, expanding and focusing.
The image of Samuel Agler appears on screen, frozen in time.
Jacob’s twin… the dark-haired one still lives! ‘Computer, identify subject.’
SAMUEL AGLER, IDENTIFICATION 13-9-23-FL-742-45-M. SUBJECT IS A PCAA ATHLETE CURRENTLY ENROLLED AT THE UNIVERSITY OF MIAMI.
Lilith claps her hands in delight. ‘Samuel, “the Mule” Agler is Immanuel Gabriel? Computer, tap into all government resources and communication links. Check identifications in all storm shelters and every mode of transportation. I want Samuel Agler found before dawn.’
Delray Beach, Florida
7:50 a.m.
Super-Cane Kenneth’s fury rips across South Florida’s landmass like a mad bull, uprooting trees, peeling away antiquated tile roofs, churning the community beneath a blizzard of wind and water.
Guided by its autopilot, the black stretch limousine finds its way through the storm, eventually arriving at the estate registered to Frank Stansbury. The vehicle parks itself beneath the huge porte cochere. A woman dashes for the front door.
Dominique shakes water from her hair, then hugs Ennis Chaney. ‘Where is he?’
‘In the shower. His fiancee’s here, too.’
‘Lauren’s here? Has he told her?’