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watched the cottage explode. “Giselle, what did you do?”

She lowered a shoulder in her sultry way, sauntering toward him one slow step at a time. “I saw the writing on the wall long before Rome. I saw the brilliance of Jupiter’s Tokyo attack, the control wrapped in chaos. I put out a quiet feeler, and he found me, embraced me.”

“Jupiter. You’re working with him? What you’re saying is treason.”

“Treason is in the eye of the beholder, yes? He wanted you. So did I. Our pursuit of you is of mutual benefit.”

Idling engines. Car doors shutting. Ben heard voices—either cops called by the neighbors or Kidan’s private security. Giselle needed help. Ben could save her, but not here. Not now. They had to leave. He reached for her.

“Don’t!” The Glock came up as fast as the bullets could fly from its chamber.

Ben froze, then slowly raised both hands to shoulder height, shamed by the fact she’d outpaced him with his own gun. “I’m sorry. Relax, okay?”

“I am relaxed. You are the one who needs to relax.” Another smile. Another lowered shoulder and a sultry step. She didn’t seem to care about the voices outside. Who were they? “You must listen. You must hear me out.”

“I’m listening. I always listen to you, right?”

“Because you love me. Yes. I said the words. We’ve loved each other from our first assignment together. You know it. And love prompted me to act on your behalf. You are too good—too skilled—to be the Director’s lackey. You must see this.” Another smile. Another step.

In this madness, would she come close enough for Ben to take the gun? Could he outmatch her reflexes? He forced his shoulders to relax. “And with Leviathan?”

“Think of this as a brilliant young lawyer might, jumping from a firm where his talents are not rewarded to one which would value him greatly.” The Glock came close to Ben’s striking range, then paused. Giselle knew his abilities well. “Mon rêve—mamour—you belong with Leviathan. You belong with me.”

No. Whatever happened, he didn’t belong with Giselle—not anymore. “Clara.” The name escaped his lips on instinct. “What did you and Jupiter do with Clara?”

“The blue-haired woman?” She scrunched her nose, as if she’d been suddenly hit with a foul smell. “We did nothing with her.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know Leviathan sent Duval to Zürich. She disappeared after he attacked us. And I know you chose that hair color because you’d been watching us. You wanted me to think you were her when I saw you at Jupiter Global.”

She shrugged. “Am I your love? Is she? I had to ask in my way. And you answered with the disappointment on your face.”

“I care about Clara.”

Her eyes flashed. “You should care about us, yes? You and me.” Giselle flicked a dismissive hand. “It is behind us now. I forgive you. She no longer matters.”

“She does matter. The people in Tokyo, Munich, and St. Petersburg matter. The lives Leviathan took and the families they destroyed with those bombs matter.”

“Sacrifices in the name of control. Preparations for a mass culling of the pride. The pandemic taught us the failure of chaos. In the face of crisis, too many pursued their own ends, leading to a global meltdown. We could not band together, even to face the worst crisis of our collective lives.”

“And how will releasing another disease help?”

“Aren’t you listening?” She sighed, tilting the Glock. “Culling the pride. Control over chaos. If Leviathan controls the antidote, Leviathan controls the outcome. Jupiter Global’s pharmaceutical subsidiaries will team up and miraculously provide the cure. Governments will bow and scrape, desperate to give them whatever Jupiter desires.”

Insanity. Both she and Jupiter were out of their minds. But in Ben’s experience, crazy people made big mistakes. The Behemoth could be their biggest. “It’s a giant, slow-moving cargo ship. I’ll call in the cavalry. A Company team will interdict the ship. Your whole plan is a waste.”

“Ben, Ben. The Company won’t listen to you. And even if they would, don’t you think Jupiter has accounted for such contingencies? Remember the material in the bulk cargo holds you asked Kidan about?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. “CRTX. The ship is a floating bomb.” He saw the diagram in his head. “There must be tons of it in there. Thousands of tons.”

“Ten thousand tons, to be exact—with the explosive power of a sixty-kiloton nuclear bomb. If the Company attempts to board or sink the vessel, Jupiter’s people will detonate the weapon, sending thousands of steel canisters filled with plague flying a kilometer or more from the blast center. Kidan’s creation is resistant to seawater, Ben. It might wash up on any shore.”

“But Jupiter doesn’t want just any shore, does he?” Ben recalled the weather charts for the Atlantic he saw in the Behemoth’s passage plan. “He’s going after the United States.”

“Yes, mamour. The United States will fall. The Director will suffer for his crimes against us. And you can be there to watch. Go to Jupiter. He’s been waiting for you so long, but he wants you to come willingly. No strings. Just as you are.”

Someone pounded on the door. Ben shot forward and grabbed for Giselle’s wrist. The Glock went off, but missed wide. He pulled her close, held her tight, looking down into her eyes. He had her. The success—the ease—of the maneuver surprised him, until he felt the cattle prod jammed into his belly.

The shock sucked away all muscle control. Ben dropped to his knees. But Giselle pulled the prod away before he lost all consciousness.

She frowned at him with the look of a scolding, disappointed wife. “Renounce him, Ben. Can’t you see? This is for your own good. The United States—the Company—they don’t deserve your loyalty. Curse your precious Director and let Jupiter make you a prince among Leviathan’s operatives. Rub your victory in the Director’s traitorous face.”

Ben fought for control of his lips. His reply came out as a grunt.

Giselle kneeled to grip him by the collar.

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