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“The Queen has arrived.”
“The PM and the president are here.”
“The session is starting.”
“All is well, they’re speaking.”
“Estimate we’ll be done in fifteen minutes and on our way out to the terrace for the reception.”
Mike followed Nicholas out of the courtyard, to the Thames and Westminster Bridge. They were under the shadow of Big Ben for a moment, then they were walking out onto the bridge.
Nicholas pointed to the canopied terrace of Westminster. She saw guards patrolling.
“Last year, a security assessment found terrorists could get from the river into the Commons Chamber in less than five minutes. A resilience test. It was a massive failure, or a massive success, whichever side of the fence you’re on.”
“You’d think they’d secure this area first. I see only a dozen guards. Anyone could come up with a boat—”
“—or a drone.” He shrugged. “I know I’m being paranoid, but for some reason, it still doesn’t feel secure, it’s—”
“Nicholas, look! There, at ten o’clock.”
They saw a dense cloud moving toward them, impenetrable, like a thick fog bank spilling down the river. Only it wasn’t a cloud. Nicholas tapped his comms, shouted, “Alert one, alert one?! A sky full of drones. Ardelean is coming!”
She vaguely heard the responses and calls begin, everyone going on alert. Mike watched the mass grow closer, heard the massive whine of thousands of rotors.
“Go! Go!” Nicholas pulled her from the rail, but she couldn’t help it, she looked back as they raced across the bridge toward the Parliament courtyard.
They saw a nightmare. The cloud was becoming more detailed as it drew closer. Soon they saw the birds, then the drones of every size, rotors whirring, flying in lines ten drones wide. They were being led down the Thames by Ardelean’s falcons, flying in a V, and Mike would swear the lead bird was the bitch who’d attacked them yesterday.
She heard shouts and looked west, more drones, coming in fast, and from the east and south, even more.
She saw the water churning beneath the northernmost cloud of drones. She pointed, pulled her weapon.
“Look, Nicholas, the speed boat. It’s Ardelean! He’s leading his army.”
Mike started shooting at the boat, emptied her first magazine before Ardelean got within range.
“We’re bloody surrounded!”
Her heart sank. There was no way to win this fight, and she knew it. It didn’t matter, she slapped a fresh magazine in place, yelled in her comms, “We need as much air power as we can get out here. Every weapon needs to be trained on the skies. The drones are coming in too fast for us. We need real armament.”
She heard voices, shouts, orders. She shut her eyes, praying, then started firing into the sky.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
Hot metal rained down as bullets hit drones. Mike, Nicholas, SWAT teams, armed police, everyone was shooting into the sky.
Nicholas slapped an M4 into Mike’s hands, and she went down on one knee beside him.
“Nicholas, the terrace, look! They’re wiping out the security there.” They ran toward the center of the bridg
e, dodging the barrage of bullets, the grenades. Her ears rang with the incredible battle sounds, the screams, and her eyes watered at the acrid smell of smoke. She jerked at his arm. “Nicholas, how do we stop them?”
He yelled into his comms, “Alert one, be advised Ardelean is coming in from the river, through the Terrace Pavilion entrance!”
Harry shouted, “That leads to Westminster Hall! We are barricading in the Commons. They’ve activated the security protocols, everything’s being shut down. There’s no way he can get in here. What’s happening out there?”
“The drone army is killing everyone in sight. Ardelean is controlling them.”
