The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI #5)(21)

He took his twin’s hands between his. “Trust me, Radu, MI5 and MI6 have no idea who they’re dealing with. Once we close off all paths into MATRIX, no one else, including Temora, will ever be able to compromise us again. I promise. Please don’t worry.”

Radu stubbornly shook his head. “Kill Drummond.”

“I will consider it. Now, I want you to shower and allow Iago to cut your hair and make you presentable. You’ve entombed yourself in these rooms far too long. Tomorrow, after lunch, you and I shall go for a walk. We’ll watch the cabal fly. Would you like that?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I’m five years old, Roman. I don’t want to cut my hair, and I don’t care to see your vermin fly. We have more important tasks ahead. Speaking of Temora, you know he is as dangerous as Drummond. We must find him and cut off his head.”

“I plan to.”

Radu gave him a sly look that surprised Roman. “Kill Drummond and I swear I will find Temora for you.”

Roman didn’t immediately answer, and Radu stalked out of the room, to his kitchen. Roman followed, nodded toward the cooler he saw sitting on the granite countertop. “Have you run the Romanian’s blood?”

“Not yet. How much more have I to do?” Radu turned away from his brother and busied himself with a glass, ran water through the HEPA filter, drank it down, slowly. Roman didn’t like being ignored. He fought the urge to yell at his brother, but yelling would send Radu back into his silent shell, for who knew how long. As Radu had grown older, as they both had grown more dedicated, the littlest things sometimes set him off. They must remain united. They must. As if there weren’t enough on their plates, he knew they both had to focus on curing Radu’s illness. It was the most critical goal of Roman’s life. He wanted this precious being, this genius with death always lurking in the shadows near him, to be healthy again. He no longer wanted him to fear that a simple cut could cause him to bleed to death. If only he responded to medical treatments, but he never had.

He said, “Very well, Radu. Send Drummond’s tracking information to my mobile. And send this morning’s video feed while you’re at it. I want to see that treacherous German die all over again. He received his just desserts, like Donovan. I told Barstow I did him a favor, which he well knows. Today was supposed to be my payday, a billion pounds, but Barstow said the Money want their drones first. He’ll get them in line, or all of them will regret it. He swears he’ll talk them around. He told me tomorrow. Do I believe him? We’ll see.” He shook his head. “If only we could find Temora, drop a bomb on his cursed head.”

Radu drank more water, wiped his hand over his mouth. “Temora’s off-grid entirely. There’s been no sign of him anywhere for the past month. But I’ll find him, Roman.”

“Then he’s moved out of Aleppo and is working elsewhere. As soon as I’ve made my special upgrades on the servers, we’ll know again everything MI5 and MI6 know.”

As Roman walked back to the mews, he realized Radu was right. He hadn’t been sure about killing Drummond, but now he knew it was the best move. He hated to admit it, but Drummond was too smart. He was relentless. He and his partner, Caine, could cause him headaches he didn’t need right now. Very well.

He turned back to Radu’s suite. Radu was still in the kitchen, staring down at the Romanian’s blood on the countertop.

“Caine is going with Drummond this morning, yes? To London?”

“Yes.”

“Prepare a drone. But not a Night Hawk, we need to make this hit less subtle. We will take both him and Caine out on the A14, once he’s past Newmarket. Use an Aire Drone. We need a final test run of the technology anyway.”

Radu smiled and nodded. “Yes, Brother.”

“Be sure you follow with a distraction to draw attention well away from us. When they’re gone, I want there to be no question who was behind their deaths.”

“Who shall we blame?”

“I’m feeling very uncharitable toward the North Koreans, as is the rest of the world. But the Irish are a better choice. Drummond took out an entire cell of the IRA a few months back. It stands to reason they’d hold a grudge. After Donovan’s death, I’m sure they’re on alert.”

“Yes, that is good. I will take care of it.”

“Be careful, Radu. We can’t have this coming back to us.”

“I understand, Brother.”





CHAPTER TWELVE


Old Farrow Hall

Farrow-on-Gray, England

Mike showered, dressed, put her hair in a clip, and got lost only once finding her way from the east side of Old Farrow Hall to Nicholas’s study on the west side. She walked in to hear Nicholas speaking on his cell. Who was he talking to?

“Yes, I’ve released Grandfather’s servers from the ransomware attack, and, in so doing, we believe we’ve discovered a bigger problem. Father, I hate to tell you this, but I believe the servers at both the Home and Foreign Office have been compromised. I need Adam here to do a full sweep of the Security Services’ servers. Yes, both MI5 and MI6.”

Harry Drummond had been called back to London the day before, some sort of important Brexit meeting with the home secretary. Nicholas saw Mike and put his cell on speaker. She heard his father say clearly, “Nicholas, you know those servers are carefully monitored. In fact, after the malware attack this morning, we immediately set the servers to change passwords every hour. We’re taking every precaution.”