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“Tell us how you did it,” Diego snapped.

She shrugged. “I worked there at night.” She stuck her chin out, her silvery-blue eyes flashing. “I’m considered quite brilliant.”

Neither man said anything, although Rubin was beginning to think she rivaled even Trap’s IQ, and he was the most intelligent man Rubin knew.

Jonquille sighed. “You have to be aware your researcher was adequate at best. He was sloppy and sometimes just plain lazy. He waited until the last minute, until you absolutely demanded what you needed, and then did the minimum. I didn’t know why you put up with him as long as you did. I had a high security clearance and was working there as well.”

Rubin didn’t enlighten her that he was well aware of the man’s lack of work ethic. If he hadn’t been stretched so thin, he might have complained, but he couldn’t be bothered. The work was definitely something off the normal path and the assistant had asked to be replaced several times.

“I made certain to sit next to him, and when his boss was there, every time he didn’t know the answer to something you needed and he was complaining, I would just tell him without looking up from my work, which was totally unrelated. I made certain to sound as if I wasn’t even paying any real attention. Eventually, his supervisor asked me how I knew the answers and I told him I just had one of those brains that remembered facts I was interested in and I studied storms and everything to do with them. Again, I made certain to sound very offhand. I kept returning my attention to my own research. Eventually, they just made me your new assistant. I’m Corporal D. Wynn.”

Rubin exchanged a long look with Diego. He’d even remarked to his brother that the new woman was fast and efficient and provided him with facts. She’d cut his work in half. He’d actually begun corresponding with her over time. She’d made little notations in the margins a couple of times that put him thinking along a pathway he hadn’t even considered, a pathway having to do with moving the actual strike from one section of an area to another.

“If you were caught …” Diego said.

“It would be no worse than the way I’m living now,” Jonquille pointed out. “I don’t have a life. I was trying to find a way to survive. I wasn’t trying to steal national secrets. If anything, I was better at guarding them than Rubin’s last assistant. Fortunately, he got moved out of there, although he was really good in other areas.”

Rubin glanced at the sky. “As fascinating as this conversation is, we have to get busy. We’re going to run out of time. Diego, you have to get to a lower elevation, but find a place where you can still record. Jonquille, are you certain you’ll be safe?”

“You mean when I attract the charge? The lead stroke is going to come straight at me. It always does. Yes. I’ll be fine.” She pointed to the few straggly oak trees. “They’re far taller than I am. The charge will bypass those and come straight for me. I can even be lying flat. What do you want to do?”

“I’m going to practice directing the bolt away. The lead is slower, but the ground-to-air is so much faster. I want to be able to hit it every time. If I can do that, you and I can eventually direct a strike away from a residence, a ball field, a place where there are people.”

“I’m not going to be a weapon, Rubin,” Jonquille stated quietly. “I know that’s what Whitney hoped, probably if he could get us together, but I’m not killing masses of people for him.”

“Nor would I expect you to. First, I’d like to see if we could actually do this together. Lightning causes over a billion dollars in damages to property as well as loss of lives. We might be able to find a way to stop that through our experiments. If you and I can redirect the strikes together, we can find a way to artificially redirect them.”

Jonquille’s blue eyes moved over his face, assessing him, trying to decide whether or not he was telling her the truth. He couldn’t blame her, not after the few things she’d told him about her childhood. She’d been betrayed too many times. Why should she believe him?

She nodded slowly. “I suppose so, but I still don’t see how you can do that without burning up, Rubin. Diego’s going to be safe somewhere recording this, but you’re going to be close. Too close.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve attempted it,” Rubin admitted. “I’ve had quite a bit of success. I don’t want you here when the storm first moves in. Let me do a little work on my own, then we’ll see how it works with you if you’re up for it.”


Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal