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“Remember the bird you thought was watching us last night? I think I’ve seen another.”
A small brown feather floated down in front of them.
“Nicholas, I—”
“Wait. Listen. Do you hear that?”
All Mike could hear was the city—moving, breathing, cars flowing along the nearby streets, the murmurs and calls of the crime-scene crew. She shook her head.
“A high-pitched whir.”
Mike’s adrenaline spiked. She looked up. “A drone? I can’t see it. Where, where?”
“There,” Nicholas shouted, pointing to the eastern edge of Marianne’s roof.
They saw the drone rise gracefully into the sky. Mike ducked behind the crime-scene van, and Nicholas took up point at the hood.
He pulled his Glock, thankfully returned by Penderley.
She heard the barrage of bullets, too close, and drew the small Glock 27 from her ankle holster. The drone was darting left, then right, through the sky overhead, firing.
“It’s shooting at us, Nicholas, get down!”
People were screaming, running, the cops firing up at it, but it was so fast no one could get a bead on it.
Nicholas didn’t get down. He stood tall and squeezed three shots. The drone zipped away, then stopped, hovering over the buildings, as if mocking them.
Nicholas ran after it. Whoever was flying the drone was an expert, and he dodged between buildings as he ran, ducking behind a van, scooting around honking cars, his eyes never leaving the drone. Mike was on his heels, yelling, “Left at the corner, it’s stopped. Wait, now right!”
They juked and jived, ducking bullets, another two blocks before the drone seemed to be slowing down. Nicholas realized it was running out of juice.
Mike ran up to his left. “Is the sucker out of battery power?”
“Yes. Adam said it would only have twenty-five minutes or so. If we can keep up with it, we should see it drop out of the sky. Unless your sharpshooting skeet skills are honed—”
Mike grinned as she raised her small Glock, aimed at the drone, stopped dead. “Look, there’s a bird, it’s heading right for the drone.”
“Doesn’t matter. Fire, Mike, bring it down.” But before she could get off the shot, the bird dove at the drone. At the last second, it pulled up. It flared its wings to slow, legs underneath it, talons out, and snatched the drone from the air with its feet. Its wings flapped once, hard, and soared away with the drone held tight.
Mike pulled up short. “Holy crap, did you see that? That bird saved that frigging drone.”
Nicholas pulled up beside her, watching the falcon wing away. “The question is, if it was one of ours, why didn’t it destroy the drone. Why did it fly away with it?”
The bird and the drone were out of sight.
Mike said, “Because it’s not ours. Bird and machine belong to the same people.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
A typical unmanned aircraft is made of light composite materials to reduce weight and increase maneuverability. This composite material strength allows military drones to cruise at extremely high altitudes. Drones are equipped with different state-of-the-art technology such as infra-red cameras (military UAV), GPS, and laser[s] (military UAV). Drones can be controlled by remote control system or a ground cockpit.
—Dronezon.com
MI5 Headquarters, Home Office
Thames House
12 Millbank
