The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI #5)(58)

Nicholas carefully put the bug on the desk.

Mike eyed it, gave Nicholas a small salute and a grin. She said in a laughing voice, “You know, I haven’t had anything to eat for hours. And Adam certainly hasn’t had a chance for anything healthy. You promised you’d find me pizza. Let’s eat. Harry, do join us.”

Harry said, “Pizza, or curry? I think we know where I stand on this.”

“Curry it is, then,” Nicholas said, winding his finger in the air. “Let’s go.”

Harry shut and locked his door, wrote a note—DO NOT ENTER, COMPROMISED—and another for Ian, whose face went white—FOUND ANOTHER BUG, GET IT HANDLED. GOING OFF-SITE TO DISCUSS—and they headed out into the street.

“We’d better follow through,” Nicholas said. “There’s an excellent restaurant, Millbank Spice, down the way. They usually need reservations, but with you with us, Father, I’m sure we can get in.”

At the restaurant, they were immediately seated at a table for four by the window. They placed orders for samosa, chicken tikka, and tandoori prawns, which Nicholas knew were his father’s favorite.

When the waiter weaved off through the tables, Adam was the first to speak. “Any idea what happened? How did a bug get through the sweep?”

Harry was already shaking his head. “Impossible. Simply impossible. A bug like that, I’ve never seen anything like it. The technology we have isn’t capable of detecting it.”

“Which means everything we spoke about with Ardelean is in our enemy’s hands. This isn’t good. First, Ardelean’s company is hacked, then someone listens in on our conversation.”

Harry said, “I need you to figure out who’s behind the three assassinations, Nicholas. My group will handle investigating Ardelean and his possible enemies.”

Nicholas fiddled with his napkin. “I have a feeling they’re tied together somehow. I’m willing to bet someone was using MATRIX to spy on the Security Services and the victims. And if they’re using Radulov software to do it, then Ardelean is a target, as well. We need to make sure he isn’t murdered before we figure all this out.”

Mike said, “We need a safe place to meet. If MI5 is compromised from within—”

Harry nodded. “Should it become necessary, we have a safe house that will do. It’s in Bayswater. I’ll have it prepared.”

There was a television in the corner of the bar, and Mike sensed rather than saw heads begin to turn. A jolt of adrenaline went through her. Not again.

She pointed to the television, where a red bar along the bottom screamed News Alert.

The TV was closed-captioned, so they read the words: Shipping Magnate Dead in Glasgow, Possible Assassination.

And then: Does Britain Have a Serial Killer on the Loose?

Adam said, “Who is Paulina Vittorini?”

Nicholas said, “She’s one of the foremost shipbuilders in the world. I believe her shipyard is currently building the latest warships for the British navy.”

Mike leaned forward toward Harry. “Sir, does she have ties to Terry Alexander?”

Harry nodded. “He was the Secretary of Defense. No way she wouldn’t have had contact with him since the naval contract was awarded. The media isn’t stupid. They’re going to go ballistic.”

Like Mike, Nicholas leaned toward his father, his voice low, “Did Heinrich Hemmler or Donovan Chapman have anything to do with the British military?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “But we’ll certainly have to find out.”

Adam chewed on his samosa. “Sir, this is very good. I don’t guess we’ll be having more lunch now, will we?”



* * *



Nicholas rose. “Everyone stay and eat. I’ve got to call Penderley. Don’t eat it all, Adam.”

Penderley answered immediately. “I know why you’re calling, and I don’t know. This belongs to the CID blokes in Glasgow. If you can get on-site quicker than my people, let me know.”

Nicholas said, “Copy that,” and hung up. To his father, he said, “Any chance you can get us on a chopper to Glasgow?”

“I can. Is that the best use of your time, though?”

“I’ll go,” Mike said. “You and Adam need to work on fixing the code.”

“I’ve got the code,” Adam said, forking down a prawn. “You two can head north. Trident and Clancy are still at Northolt. They were going to stick around in case we needed to send messages back to New York, but I think Trident really wanted to visit the Tower of London. The G5 will be faster than a chopper.”

“Mike’s right, Adam, this job needs both of us. We’ve got to restore secure comms to Security Services, and that will take a while.” He sent a quick text to Clancy. It was Trident who texted back immediately:

We’re still here, we’re gassing up.

“Mike, they’re with the plane, not off at the Tower of London. Take Ben, I’ll have him meet you at RAF Northolt.”

“If I recall, the last time we flew to Scotland, we had to take the prime minister’s Hawker.”

Nicholas gave her a smile. “As I recall, we had quite an adventure,” which made her roll her eyes.

She looked at the television again. “Whoever is doing this is showing off, or it’s a massive payback.”