Free Apocalypse by Dean Crawford Page A

across the wall.
    ‘When was Purcell booked into this apartment?’ he asked.
    ‘Checked in yesterday at five thirty in the evening, and according to the hotelier he left in his car two hours later and did not return . . .’ Sears broke off as he realized what
Ethan was getting at.
    ‘When did the aircraft go down?’ Jarvis prompted the captain.
    ‘Radio contact was lost just before seven thirty in the evening,’ Sears replied. ‘The aircraft was reported missing at just after eight, after it failed to land at Miami
International at the allotted time.’
    Ethan looked at Jarvis. ‘Purcell wrote that coded message before the aircraft had gone down.’
    ‘He knew it was going to crash,’ Lopez said. ‘You think he somehow saw the crash in advance, like the scene at his home yesterday evening?’
    Kyle Sears shook his head. ‘It’s more likely that Purcell had something to do with the plane going down than that he’s able to see the future. We could be dealing with a mass
murderer.’
    ‘Has any wreckage been found?’ Ethan asked.
    ‘That’s part of the problem,’ Sears replied. ‘The aircraft vanished without trace. The Miami Coastguard conducted a search at the aircraft’s last known position but
nothing was found. The airplane was travelling through the Bermuda Triangle when it disappeared from radar screens.’
    ‘The Bermuda Triangle,’ Ethan echoed.
    ‘This is getting weirder by the minute,’ Lopez said.
    Ethan turned to Jarvis.
    ‘Purcell used to work at NASA. We need to go and talk to some of his colleagues and find out what he was doing there.’
    Jarvis nodded as he slipped a cellphone out of his pocket.
    ‘I’ll get us a ride. We’ll be in Cape Canaveral within the hour.’
    Ethan stared at the wall and its cryptic message.
    ‘What’s up?’ Lopez asked him.
    Ethan sighed.
    ‘I want to know,’ he replied, ‘what happens at 20:48 on June 28. I’ve got a feeling that, whatever it is, it’s not going to be good.’

13
MANDARIN ORIENTAL HOTEL, MIAMI, FLORIDA
    June 28, 10:02
    Joaquin Abell stood at the ceiling-to-floor windows of his penthouse suite and looked across the water to the Miami skyline, where the British Consulate dominated the scenery.
The channel between the hotel and Bricknell Key, a wedge-shaped island just off the shore, glittered in the morning sunshine as it flowed south in deep eddies before trailing away to be lost into
the endless ocean, like time irretrievably passing him by. Lost, but still there.
    And at what price? The late, great Isaac Abell watched him from history and gave a deep and disapproving shake of his head. Joaquin swallowed thickly.
    ‘This is worth it, Father.’
    The words spilled from Joaquin’s lips without conscious effort, as though even now he was compelled to justify himself. Once, he had been intimidated and dwarfed by the incorruptible
morals of his father, which seemed too pristine and too perfect to follow. And then the towering monolith, the indestructible center of Joaquin’s entire universe, had toppled and fallen, his
father’s life extinguished not by disease or years but by the insufferable disgrace of suicide.
    ‘What’s worth it?’
    Joaquin bit his lip and cursed his melancholic reverie as he turned to see Katherine walk over to join him. She had changed into a smart, knee-length suit with a crisp white shirt, and as usual
looked stunning.
    ‘Everything that IRIS is doing,’ he replied with a smile, as she slipped her arm round his waist.
    ‘And what is IRIS doing?’
    ‘Right now?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘Right now it is on the verge of being able to not just come to the aid of those suffering natural disasters around the world, but to
prevent those disasters from happening in the first place.’
    Katherine looked at her husband for a few moments and smiled brightly, but a veil of confusion shadowed her green eyes.
    ‘You can’t save the entire world, Joaquin,’ she said. ‘It’s too big, even for