The Lost Key

“Looks like they’re throwing us quite the party, Nicholas. Champagne and caviar, I hope.”

“I’ll take most anything you put in my hand at the moment. Okay, focus. This is the fun part.”

Mike did what Nicholas told her, twisted the knobs to new headings, dropped the landing gear. Healy talked them down, making adjustments here and there. The ground rose up. The plane skidded as Nicholas reversed their single engine and applied the brakes, setting it into a sickening sideways spin, but finally it groaned to a stop half on and half off the runway.

They were alive, on the ground safely. Mike jumped up from her seat and hugged Nicholas tight. She said against his cheek, “You did it! And we’re even in one piece. The plane is still in one piece, too.” She gave him a whopping big kiss on the mouth. “What’s best? No sharks. You’re not going to be a lamebrain for at least a month.” And she gave him another kiss.

He said against her ear, “Twice? That’s good. I’ll take what I can get.”

60

MoD St. Athan

Wales

3:00 p.m.

The emergency perso

It was a pity about the beautiful Gulfstream, Nicholas thought. The laser had bit directly through the metal, leaving deep gouges in its sides, and blackening the glossy white paint around the left engine. A few more hits and they’d have broken up midair.

Mike came up to stand beside him. “The director’s not going to be too happy about what we did to his baby.” But she was gri

He hugged her, this time kissed her. “We made it.”

They were escorted into the RAF Headquarters, and given hot tea while they were debriefed. Once everyone was satisfied, the base commander told them the plane that attacked them, the one the Tornado shot down, was being recovered. They’d know soon enough who it belonged to, though Nicholas had no doubts as to who was behind the attempts on their lives. And he thought, So you’re really that scared of me, are you, Havelock? You’ve a good reason to be. I’m going to bury you, you sodding bastard.

The commander told them the pilots were being treated for burns and flash blindness by the base medics and were both expected to recover fully, though both would be scarred.

The commander also confirmed the laser wasn’t commercial grade, it was even beyond military grade. It was a very powerful weapon, and no one had ever seen one used in the civilian or military theaters. They would start a full-scale investigation immediately.

The base commander’s XO told them they were to be choppered to London on the double, on orders of one very irritated man named Hamish Penderley.

Nicholas pictured his former stiff-necked boss in his mind—this little kerfuffle was guaranteed to get the old buzzard’s blood pumping.

Their gear was retrieved from the Gulfstream, and when they walked back out onto the tarmac, Nicholas saw Mike eying the green Chinook helicopter with something like dread.

“What’s this? I thought you loved a good chopper ride.”

“Right now, all I’m thinking about is how nice it is to be on terra firma, but no, back we go bounding back up into the air.” But she hopped into the seat, put on her headset, and pulled her seat belt very tight.

The British Royal Air Force was true to their word, and thirty-five minutes later, they were buzzing the Thames, ready to set down at RAF Northolt.

As they watched the copter lift off back to its base in Wales, Nicholas said to Mike, “Remind me to send a thank-you note to our friends at the National Air Traffic Services.”

“Let’s send flowers, too. And chocolates. Maybe my firstborn—and yours, too.”

A black eyebrow went up.

She gave him a manic grin. “I didn’t mean it to come out quite like that, sorry.”

“Whatever, interesting idea.”

There was a modified black 5 Series BMW waiting for them on the tarmac. Against it leaned Hamish Penderley, detective chief superintendent of the Metropolitan Police’s Operational Command Unit. Since there’d been distance and time between them, looking at him now Nicholas would swear Penderley could billboard the benign grandfather. Penderley even smiled at them, a warm smile, something Nicholas couldn’t remember ever seeing, but then boom—“The prodigal returns. Did you have to do it with such a splash, Drummond?”

“Not a splash, sir, we managed to make it to land.”

Penderley shook his head. “What a cock-up.”

“No, sir, it wasn’t my fault.”

Penderley gave a bark of laughter, shook Nicholas’s hand.

“Of course you remember Special Agent Michaela Caine.”

“Yes, of course.” Penderley shook her hand. “I still remember that hat you wore the day of Elaine’s funeral. Welcome back, Agent Caine. I see you’re still walking and talking, quite a feat in this chap’s company.”

Mike said, “Good thing I come from hardy stock. But you know, sir, around Nicholas, you’re certainly never bored.”

A grizzled eyebrow flew up. “I’m still recovering. I still can’t get my head around the fact that he’s now an American FBI agent. And he thought I was strict.”

She’d liked Penderley when she’d met him at Elaine York’s funeral back in January. “We’re lucky to have him, sir. His mind would be a terrible thing to waste.”

Penderley laughed heartily. “Right. You’re welcome to it, all it ever did was cause me trouble. Come along.”

Once the BMW moved into traffic, Penderley got down to business. “We’ve blanketed Leyland’s house in Notting Hill. It appears no one’s there, and we’ve had eyes on the house for the past two hours. No one’s heard from Leyland, either. His people said he had a meeting at noon today and hasn’t been seen since.

“I’m begi

“That’s right. Loch Eriboll. I have the exact coordinates for the sub.”

“Bringing up a sub isn’t something just anyone can do. The pla

“A problem with that plan, sir. Havelock is surely making his own preparations to raise this sub, if he hasn’t managed it already. He needs Adam Pearce for the final coordinates, so we need to find this kid before Havelock gets his hands on him.

“It’s scary stuff. With Havelock’s assembling polonium, going off the grid, and this unknown weapon, there’s no time to waste. Adam Pearce told us to meet him at Leyland’s. Hopefully he’s there now staying out of sight. Then we’ll head to Loch Eriboll, locate the sub and find this mythical key everyone’s searching for.”

“What’s the key to?”

“Possibly to something created by Madame Curie way back in the early part of the twentieth century. Something that can go with the polonium Havelock’s been gathering. Putting together the two supposedly will make a very powerful weapon. We need Adam Pearce and Sophie. They’re the only ones who know the whole story.”

Well, also all the members of the Order knew, but his father’s request, no, more a plea, sounded in his head. Protect the Order, keep the police away from them. Very well, he would remain quiet for the time being. But if everything went arse up, he himself would arrest every last member he could find, and be damned what happened to the Order.

Mike was watching him. He had the odd sensation that she knew what he was thinking.