The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI #5)(62)

At Mackenzie’s nod, Westcott picked up a massive pair of bolt cutters. With a single powerful snap, he cut through the lock, catching it before it fell to the ground.

“In we go.”

And he lifted the latch.

It was pitch-black inside the warehouse. It smelled musty, with a thick overlay of oil. Nothing unusual for a shipyard warehouse.

Mackenzie raised a Maglite to shoulder level and thumbed it on.

Mike blinked. “All I can see are crates. There must be hundreds.”

“This warehouse is about sixteen thousand square feet. Not so big for the area, but big enough.” Mackenzie gestured to the first crate, and Westcott used a pry bar to wrench it open. It was packed with what looked like shredded cardboard.

“Oh-ho. What do we have here? Five guesses,” he said, pulling it aside, letting Mike and Ben look.

The crate was full of weapons. Automatics. Westcott moved things around carefully. “M4 carbines, twenty, twenty-five to a crate. I assume that’s not our only weaponry, considering we have variable-size crates in here.” He looked at his boss with a crooked smile. “Bugger me, mate. It would appear Paulina Vittorini was running guns right under the navy’s nose.”



* * *



They sat down with a pot of tea inside the Govan Shipyards offices. Mackenzie said, “The full assessment of the warehouse will take days, and we can start taking apart Vittorini’s books in the morning. I have a forensic accountant who is practically magic. If anything’s hiding in the company books, we’ll find it.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to believe this, I mean, Vittorini is a patriot, a local legend. I’ve always believed her above reproach. I can’t believe she’d be running guns to terrorists or countries that run counter to our beliefs.”

Mike asked, “Could she have been holding the guns for someone else? What we have to find out is where the guns were headed when they left the warehouse and who they were being sent to. When you find out, please notify us.”

“Yes, all right. When will you head back to London? Or are you going to stick around and lend a hand?”

Mike saluted him with her teacup. “As soon as we get confirmation of the poisoned needle and finish the tea, sir, we must be on our way back to London. We have to discover how Donovan, Hemmler, and Alexander fit with Vittorini.”

Ben said, “And we know they fit together. They all crossed the wrong person or people.” He started to pull his cell phone from his jacket, then shook his head. “It’s very annoying not to be able to pick up a cell or the phone and call, update my team on what’s happening.”

Mackenzie laughed. “It’ll turn you youngsters into old-fashioned gumshoes, like I used to be.”

The phone rang, and Mackenzie, startled, answered it. He listened for a moment, then hung up.

“You can leave now, agents. The poison has been confirmed. As you said, the cause of death is the same as the other three. Tree frog venom, of all things.”

Mike finished her tea and rose, Ben following suit. “Thank you for your help, Mackenzie. We will be in touch.”

“Good. Let’s get you back to Prestwick and your plane.”



* * *



Clancy and Trident were waiting for them, but the jet’s engines weren’t running. Clancy said, “There’s a major power outage in London. We’re grounded temporarily. We can’t fly in. Air traffic control is in emergency-operations mode, trying to get the planes in the air onto the ground without proper communications. Even with generators, the entire airspace is messed up.”

“Do we have any way to communicate with Nicholas?”

“We can encrypt a call through the plane’s system and give it a try. Though if there’s no power, there’s no cell service, and the landlines will be out, too.”

“How did the power go out?”

“No idea. Radio traffic said it all went black, and—”

There was a squawk from inside the plane. “There’s good news. Someone’s trying to reach us.” They ran up the gangway, and Mike watched Clancy sit in the pilot’s seat and put on the headset.

“It’s Nicholas. He’s asking for you, Mike.”

He gave her the headset. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing much really, only a minor glitch. Adam and I may have melted down London’s grid, but we’re back up and running now.”

Mike burst out laughing. “You’re the reason London has no power? Why does this not surprise me? Those hoots and laughs you hear in the background is the team laughing at you.”

Nicholas called out, “All right, you baboons, why don’t one of you guys try to single-handedly—well, okay, double-handedly, since I have to include Adam—restore the Internet to a pristine state? Mike, I’ll explain it all when you get here. Our comms are now officially secure. We purged MATRIX off MI5’s servers entirely. Plug in your mobile and get back here right away.”

“If this is a secure line—”

“It is.”

“We found a massive cache of weapons. It appears Vittorini was running arms.”

“Was she now? My father will be interested in this news. Come on home. I’ll meet you at the house. We have all sorts of things to discuss.”