The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI #5)(93)

He looked at the mangled SUV, an inferno against the dark sky, and he couldn’t see either the driver or Barstow inside.

He became aware of the growing chaos around him, people screaming, shouting for police, some running away, some pulling out their phones and recording videos. One man with a small dog on a leash stared dumbly at Harry, who realized he must look like a war victim.

His mind struggled to catch up. Drone, it must have been a drone, and it dropped a bomb on the car, like the train attack. Only this time the drone did it on the front of the car, blowing off the doors and windows. Harry, not wearing his seat belt, was thrown from the wreckage by the blast. He learned soon enough that Barstow and the driver had not been so lucky.

Harry saw blood running down his arm and pulled out a handkerchief to tie around the gash. He managed to get away from the flames and pressed against the building, scanning the skies as he reached for his phone. He heard the faint noise above him, looked up to see a red eye in the sky. The drone was searching the scene. It zoomed over, back and forth, seeking, but Harry was hidden in the shadows.

Bloody hell, where was his phone? It wasn’t in his pocket. He realized he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore, either, it must have gotten caught in the car. He was also missing a shoe.

He leaned his head back against the building, hiding from the drone, listened to sirens wailing as they grew nearer and nearer and the noise from so many people as they watched the car burn. He heard the faint hum of the drone, flying away now, its pilot satisfied it had done its job.

Fury filled him.

This was war.





CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE


The Old Garden

Twickenham

Richmond upon Thames, London

Isabella fell asleep humming. When she awoke, her mind was clear, and she realized she was exhausted. Then it came back. Ardelean had drugged her, and he’d drained some of her blood.

At least she was still alive. It was dark in the room, only the lights from under the cabinets shining down on the desk below, onto Radu’s notes.

She felt a hand on her arm and jerked away. Iago stood over her, nothing showing on his face.

“You’re awake.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearing dawn. The cast will need attending. Before I go, may I bring you anything?”

“You spoke.”

“Yes. I apologize that my accent is so very strong.” Then he shrugged. “Water? Would you like some water?”

“No, I would like my phone to call the police.”

Remarkably, that blank face suddenly split into a smile.

“Madam is amusing. And you are no longer humming. A pity.” He leaned closer. “You are saving my master. For this I am grateful.”

“When will he take more of my blood for your master?”

She heard a yawn close by. Radu called out, “I am still getting your blood, Isabella, only much slower now. He will give you a day to build yourself back up. I don’t think he’ll kill you since it’s possible I will need transfusions from you forever. You will be my private blood bank.

“Thank you, Isabella. It is amazing you came into our lives after all this time.”

She struggled against the webbing, but it was no use. She had to think, had to figure something out. She said, “When is he coming back?”

“I don’t know. It’s nearly dawn, so he’ll be back soon, I hope. I want him to see how strong I am.”

“I would like some water.”

Iago hurried out of the room. Radu said, “When Roman comes back, I’ll have him release the webbing around your neck. Are you very uncomfortable?”

Why would you care? “It’s very uncomfortable, yes.”

“I am sorry. Roman has his ways—I feel good, not the way I really want to feel, but better, with your blood I am so much better.”

“Glad to be of service.” Where had that come from? She was going as insane as the inmates.

Radu said, “I hope Iago will get you my special water. It is wonderfully healthy, perfect to help you build back up.”

There was a loud bang.

“What’s that?”

Isabella heard voices and smelled smoke.

Iago came running back into the lab, slamming the door behind him, a biometric code snapping into place.

He crossed himself. “Master Radu, they’ve come. They’re here. Someone’s attacked the house! The antiaircraft battery shot a missile. I heard it activate.”

Isabella couldn’t do anything, so she closed her eyes and prayed. Someone had come to rescue her?

Radu screamed, “Unhook me, Iago. I am strong now. Give me guns. We will fight them off.”

The whapping sounds of a helicopter rotor grew louder and louder, and, out the window, Isabella saw an explosion, then felt a crush of flame and glass.

“Iago? Unhook me! We cannot let them come in. We cannot let them take her.”

“No, master, no one can get in. The door is barricaded. We will be safe. Hold still, I will unhook you.”

“Call Roman. He must come.”

“Master, your brother isn’t here, but we have the house as a defense. I have the guns. The room is safe. We will be safe.”

“I smell smoke, Iago.” He was whimpering, like a child. He was afraid, she saw his eyes were wild. Again, he whimpered, “Iago, I’m scared.”