Текст книги "The Lost Key"

Автор книги: Catherine Coulter

Соавторы: J. T. Ellison
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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

65

Mike followed the trail of blood up the stairs. There, windows were fewer, making it darker. It was silent as a tomb.

Come on, Nicholas, where are you? And where are you, Penderley? Come on!

Mike cleared room by room. The last door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. She paused, listened. She heard breathing. Whoever was in there was waiting for her.

She edged sideways and looked through the crack. She saw Nicholas lying on his back under a large square window. Rain was coming down hard, slamming against the windowpanes. He was deathly still.

She kicked open the door, but forced herself not to run in, to keep to the side.

Five shots blasted out. She closed her eyes a moment, again blessed her training.

She aimed into the breach between the frame and the door and fired, praying the bullet wouldn’t ricochet and hit Nicholas.

There was a yell, then silence.

She’d hit him, whoever him was.

Adrenaline shot through her. Time to take a chance. She went in low and fast, rolled across the floor, coming up in a perfect crouch, arms extended, facing the now open door. The shooter wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Another door—she yanked it open and ran through a bathroom and back out into the hall and saw splatters of blood. The hall was empty.

She heard Nicholas moan. She shut and locked both doors, and dropped to her knees beside him and pulled him into her arms. She saw a syringe sticking out of his neck. The plunger wasn’t depressed, and a thick, viscous gold liquid was still in the tube. Still, he must have gotten a bit of a dose. She jerked the needle from his neck. The wound began to bleed, and she blotted it with her remaining sleeve. His eyelids began to flutter; he was coming around.

“Nicholas. Wake up.” She shook his shoulder. His eyes opened. He shoved himself away from her with such force she landed on her butt.

She scrambled back to him, grabbed his arm. “Nicholas, there’s another shooter in the house. They cut our comms, I fired a shot outside, so I hope Penderley realizes we’re in trouble.”

Nicholas was on his knees, facing her, weaving a bit. Slowly, he raised his hand to his neck. She saw his pupils were dilated, saw he still wasn’t with it.

She shook him as hard as she could. “Come on, Nicholas. Pull it together.”

“Trying.” His voice sounded nearly normal.

“Okay, okay, stay still.” She rose and looked through the thick pounding rain down into the garden, but they were on the wrong side of the house. No Penderley.

Nicholas grabbed a chair and pulled himself up. “Whatever that ruddy bastard shot me with is strong. My head’s still spinning.”

“He got out through the bathroom, over there. When I got back to the hall, I didn’t see him, but I saw a blood trail, so I gave him a shot for you.” She helped him to his feet, her shoulder under his arm. She got him up and into a chair.

He tried to smile at her. “My lips are numb, and my hands, but I’m okay.”

“Good, because we need to get out of here in case that bastard comes back with reinforcements.”

“Where’s Gareth?” Nicholas got slowly to his feet. He finally managed to straighten.

“He was shot in the neck, but he’ll be all right.”

“Good. Good. You look like you had quite a dustup. You won, I hope?”

“I did. Rocky’s on his belly, nicely handcuffed. I blew out his kneecap.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side. You’re all right?”

She nodded. “Don’t worry about me. We need to catch whoever’s running around this house with a gun and a stack of syringes. How did he get you?”

He looked surprised. “I have no idea. One minute the three of us were going up the stairs, the next I woke up in your arms.” He gave her a look. “Rather enjoyed that part of it.” And then he lightly cupped her face, then shook his head, and dropped his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, can you walk without help?” Actually, she’d have enjoyed it as well if she hadn’t been so scared.

He took three steps to test and nodded, then realized, “That bloody prat took my Glock.”

“Give me your spare magazine, I’m down three bullets.”

He handed it over and she switched them out. “Okay, let’s go. Slowly. You’re still not too steady on your pins.”

There was a clear blood trail down the hallway, then suddenly it stopped. He must have bound the wound. They went down another flight, paused on the small, dark landing.

They both smelled the blood. They heard him wheezing, each breath an effort. She’d lung-shot him, but he was still on his feet, still ready to fight, waiting for them by the main staircase. He probably realized Penderley’s men were right outside and he was stuck in here. And he was fully prepared to kill them.

Mike dropped and rolled to the top of the stairs, came up on her elbows, and as the man raised his gun, she pumped four bullets center mass. He stared at her in surprise, dropped his gun, then quietly fell backward onto the beautifully appointed foyer just as Penderley’s tactical team burst through the front door.

66

Nicholas watched the paramedics wheel Gareth to the curb. His face was white, he was clearly in pain. He touched Gareth’s arm as he passed. “I’m glad you’re okay, mate.”

Gareth managed a crooked smile. “You’re going to owe me for years.”

“I’ll stand you a pint at the Feathers when you’re up on your feet.”

“You’ll stand me a pint for the next ten years,” he called out as the doors closed and the ambulance pulled away.

Oliver Leyland’s body stayed in the house, along with the two shooters, one dead, one unconscious and cuffed, while Mike told Penderley and his team what had happened inside, her voice calm, emotionless, but she wanted to yell, I won, I won, I took down both of them.

When there was no more to say, Penderley patted her on the shoulder. “Well done, lass. Damn well done.”

Mike said, “I don’t know how they cut our comms. Both Gareth and I tried to call you.”

“We heard a gunshot, that was good enough. We were with you less than three minutes later.”

Mike couldn’t believe it. Only three minutes? No, at least an eon had passed. “Hopefully, Rocky will talk.” And then she had to explain.

Penderley patted her shoulder again, making her smile, then he turned to Nicholas. “Only Leyland was inside? No sign of Adam Pearce?”

“No sign. Can we pull CCTV feed on the street, see who entered Leyland’s house and when?”

“We’re working on it now. Also working on IDs for the two men who tried to kill you and Mike.”

“I’m going to bet you’ll find they’re German nationals. Havelock has a history of sending his own men to do his dirty work, not using local talent.”

“Understood. Also, while you were inside, the call came in from the boys at MoD Saint Athan. That missile did its job thoroughly, only small pieces of the tail of the plane that attacked you were located. It was a Gulfstream, though. A private jet.”

“Ten to one it was Havelock’s. Who else would have tried to stop us coming over?”

Penderley said, “First the chancellor of the Exchequer is killed, and now the head of the Bank of England? FBI planes are being attacked with lasers, there are two Americans on British soil being held against their will, and we haven’t the foggiest idea where to start looking for them. Not to mention the world press has already reported on Alfie Stanford’s death. When they find out about the murder of Oliver Leyland, they’re going to be asking questions. You know they’ll put it together soon enough, then all hell will break loose. This is a disaster.” Penderley looked ready to stick his head in the noose.

“Sir,” Mike said, her hand on his forearm. “Once we have the weapon and Havelock, once we show the world what he is, what he has done, including the murder of these two fine men, the world media will crucify him.”

Penderley gave her an odd look. “Do we tell them we have saved the world from disaster, Agent Caine?”

She grinned. “That will be up to the leaders of our two countries, I would imagine. Let’s go do our jobs now, sir, let’s get this done.”

“Drummond, you agree?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Nicholas touched his fingers to his neck. The injection site throbbed and pulsed. He wished he could remember exactly what had happened, perhaps it would all come back. Would he be dead if Mike hadn’t gotten there in time? Yes, it would have been all over for him. But he was here and breathing, his brain finally working again. Mike was right, time to get it done. He said, “We know Adam Pearce was in the house at some point since your team found a laptop and gym bag stuffed in the back of a bedroom closet. We also know he was taken. The team’s still up there, with Adam Pearce’s things?”

Penderley nodded.

“Good,” Mike said, “let’s see if there’s anything of use on the computer.”

They were careful not to step in the blood that pooled on the landings. There were crime scene techs everywhere.

He saw Mike didn’t look at the man she’d shot. Her back was ramrod straight, her ponytail was a little off-center, her shirt ripped, but she was excited, he could feel it pouring off her.

“Mike?”

She stopped. “Nicholas? Is something wrong?”

He gave her a long look, shook his head. “Let’s see what’s on Adam Pearce’s computer.”

67

After making certain Adam’s laptop wasn’t bugged or trip-wired or attached to a microscopic explosive, Nicholas powered it up. A few moments later, he began to smile.

“Yes, this is definitely Adam’s computer. It’s a hacker’s dream. He’s got a sophisticated and completely custom operating system that I’ve never seen before. And it’s encrypted to the hilt.” He hit a few keys, testing the security. “This is one of the strongest encryptions I’ve ever seen. All this from a nineteen-year-old.”

Mike said, “Impressed, are you?”

“Very. This is beautiful work.”

“Can you beat it?”

Nicholas cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I can beat it. He may be fresh and new, but I’ve been around the block a few times. Let’s see how his new work stands up to my old-school hacking skills.”

He uploaded his decryption program and set it to run.

While Nicholas worked on breaking into Adam’s computer, Mike looked through his bag. “Underwear, toothbrush, and look here, about five thousand in cash. Where’d he pick that up?” She dug deeper. There was a burgundy-colored passport in the bottom of the bag, issued from the United Kingdom, in the name of Thomas Wren. “This is how he got here. A false passport. It’s a good one, too.” She gave it to Nicholas, who looked it over, then made a quick call. Five minutes later his mobile rang. Customs at Heathrow showed Thomas Wren had entered the UK in the wee hours of the morning, off British Airways flight 176.

Nicholas said, “Adam flew first class, mind you, on a commercial flight out of New York. He’s got a good disguise, no wonder the NGI database didn’t pick up on it.”

She thought of how he’d looked at Ariston’s yesterday morning and shook her head. So much had happened. Yesterday felt like ten years ago. She watched the rain lashing down, obscuring even the cars parked in the neighboring drive. The media must really be committed over here to run around in this weather. She didn’t know if she could get used to this all the time.

Nicholas’s mobile rang. He listened, agreed, and punched off. “Penderley’s preparing a statement about Leyland. He told me to hurry with the computer, see what we have. He says the media has picked up on our presence here. Look here, Mike.”

She stared down at the screen. File after file opened, stacking window upon window of encrypted code, each being run through Nicholas’s powerful program and coming out the other side in plain text. It was in computerspeak, techy code she couldn’t read, but Nicholas clearly could. Not only read it, but understand what it meant.

Nicholas paged through the files for a few moments, then he said, “Yes!” His face changed. He shook his head, his look disbelieving.

“What is it?”

She saw alarm in his eyes. “What? What is it?”

It was as if he had to force out the words. “I know what the weapon is, Mike. We must stop Havelock. We must stop him now.”

68

Nicholas stood, slapped the laptop closed. “We must get to Loch Eriboll immediately. You know Havelock used Sophie as leverage to get Adam to tell him the coordinates. He has them or he’s close to getting them. We have to get the key before Havelock.”

Mike grabbed his arm. “What is the weapon, Nicholas?”

He grabbed Adam’s computer. “Let’s find Penderley, he needs to know this, too.”

She ran after him down the stairs to the kitchen, where Penderley was hovering over a crime scene tech.

“What is this? What have you found out?”

Nicholas motioned both Penderley and Mike into the elegant dining room. “Both Adam Pearce and I cross-hacked the files of Manheim Technologies, we both have his research. I didn’t have the time to look deeply at it, but Adam did. He left me a pretty clear trail of bread crumbs.

“Sir, I told you about the implant we found in one of his men’s heads. Havelock’s been making micro-nukes—it’s all here. The nukes are so small, they could be taken and remotely detonated.

“We know he’s been gathering polonium-two-ten. It’s because he wants to use it as the base for a much bigger weapon. He’s well past the theoretical stage. All Havelock wants now is a bigger payload.”

Penderley frowned at him. “What payload? Be clear, man.”

“Havelock is after a very old radioactive isotope at least one hundred times stronger and more lethal than polonium-two-ten.”

Mike said, “What do mean more lethal? A single drop of polonium-two-ten will kill you.”

“Yes, but we’re not talking simple polonium here. If Havelock can get his hands on this ultra-robust polonium, and combine the two, we’re talking about micro-nukes, hidden in plain sight, that could kill millions. This is our worst nightmare.”

Penderley shook his sleeve. “Explain this ultra-robust polonium? Who came up with that?”

“Marie Curie.”

Mike and Penderley stared at him. She said slowly, “Marie Curie worked over a hundred years ago. There’s no way she could have discovered something this advanced, there wasn’t the equipment, the technology, this—wait, she died of radiation poisoning, didn’t she, from working on radium and—”

“Yes, and polonium. Evidently, she realized polonium was unstable, and had a very short half-life. She believed polonium was much less useful than radium and so that’s where she focused her energies. Or so we thought.”

Mike said, “What do you mean, or so we thought?”

“Historical records show that Curie spent her time developing radium, and left polonium alone. But she didn’t. She found a way to increase its half-life, evidently to make it indestructible, potent and viable in five years, in a hundred years. Adam had a document in his files explaining it all. Sir, we need to move, fast.”

“All right, Drummond, but first, you have to tell me where is this ultra-robust polonium of hers? Is it in the sub and that’s why Havelock wants it so desperately? How could it possibly be potent and viable after being underwater for one hundred years?”

“It isn’t the ultra-robust polonium itself that’s in the sub, it’s her key that leads to where she kept it. That’s why Havelock has been trying to find it. Curie’s book would indicate where she locked it away, and how to use her polonium’s enhanced properties, and the key would unlock whatever it is, a door, a deposit box, a safe, whatever.

“Sir, we have to get to Loch Eriboll right now. Havelock is no doubt going for the sub tonight. He must already have the coordinates. And he’s poised to get there ahead of us.”

“How do you know?”

He shook the laptop. “It’s in Havelock’s files. Adam Pearce hacked into Manheim Technologies, pulled down all of Havelock’s personal files. He owns a ship called the Gravitania. It’s a high-end salvage vehicle. He rents it out to treasure hunters, people who dive shipwrecks and the like. Yesterday, he ordered it to move into position in the North Sea. He’s going after the sub, right now. We must beat him.”

“Or you believe thousands of people will die. But, Drummond, I told you already it would take at least a day to get our gear in place.”

Nicholas took a deep breath, put his hand on Penderley’s shoulder. “If you’ve never trusted me before, sir, I ask that you do now. The safety of our people, all of our people, our very country, lies in the balance. We can’t wait. We can’t let him get to the sub first. I don’t care who we have to call, what favors we need to pull, it has to happen, and it has to happen right now.”

Penderley looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then pulled out his mobile phone, dialed and put the phone to his ear. There was a brief pause, and he said, “Sir? It’s Penderley. We have an emergency.”

69

The rain was coming down in sheets when they got themselves into Penderley’s BMW, Nicholas behind the wheel.

Penderley rang off his mobile, and turned to Mike, who was hanging on to the grab handle, “We’re headed to Northolt. You’ll be in Scotland in less than two hours. We’re borrowing a Hawker from the prime minister; the only way to get you there faster is strap you and Nicholas into Tornadoes. They’re clearing the airspace for you, shouldn’t be much more than an hour up there. You’ll land north of Inverness, at RAF Tain, and they’ll chopper you to Loch Eriboll. You’re going to the back end of Scotland. That far north you’ll have a little more daylight to work with.”

Mike thought about their near death in the director’s Gulfstream and gulped. She’d rather drive, or take a train, even a bicycle.

Nicholas saw her face in the rearview, turned to flash her a grin. “By car it’s only about eleven hours, with hundreds of roundabouts.”

“Stop reading my mind, particularly when I’m mentally whining.”

Penderley ignored the both of them. “They’ve diverted a Type twenty-three anti-submarine frigate, the HMS Dover, to intercept the Gravitania.”

“Anti-submarine?” Mike asked. “I thought the Gravitania was a ship.”

“It is a ship. One that’s being used to search for sunken treasure and bottomed-out shipwrecks. Its registry is Bahamian, and shows an MIR-two submersible on board, a three-person mini-sub, perfect for deep-sea exploration. Havelock’s prepared. So that means you’ll have to dive to the sub. The Dover will have the right equipment to make that possible.

“Children, our countries are on the line now. Keep me informed. We have a few more minutes to Northolt. Talk, Drummond, tell me all of it. Start with Manfred Havelock. And don’t bang up my car,” he added, when Nicholas swerved around a big black truck at the last minute.

When there was a break in traffic, Nicholas said, “Manfred Havelock is a German scientist who has revolutionized the nano-biotech field with his brain implants for amputees, among several other huge discoveries. Our medical examiner found an implant in the brain of the man Havelock sent to kill Jonathan Pearce in New York. Unlike his official work, this one was being used for real-time intelligence gathering, video and audio, on American soil.

“The worst part is Havelock also seems to have developed multiple mini–nuclear weapons which he’s tied to these intelligence-gathering implants. The implants are the triggers. We don’t know how far they’re deployed, but they could be anywhere.”

“So the people who carry the implants are walking triggers?”

“Exactly. And if Curie’s creation of this ultra-robust polonium is added to the mix, catastrophe.”

Nicholas turned onto the A40. Northolt wasn’t far.

“I’ll notify Homeland and Downing Street. What do Oliver Leyland and Alfie Stanford have to do with Havelock?”

Nicholas thought of his father’s urgent plea to keep quiet about the Order. He said, “Still unknown at this point, sir. Once we stop Havelock’s attack, we can sift through the rest.”

“Who does this sunken sub belong to?”

“It belonged to Kaiser Wilhelm, went down in 1917.”

“I know there’s more, but we’re here.” Nicholas stopped at the Northolt guard gate. Penderley pulled out his ID and handed it to the guard. His mobile rang. “I hope they’ve found Sophie Pearce.” A few moments later, he shut off the phone and looked at Nicholas strangely, then said, “Your plane, it’s right over there. You can drive to it.”

“Did they find her, sir?”

He shook his head. “They’ve found where the call originated from. Let’s get you on the plane and I’ll tell you the rest.”