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The TV was closed-captioned, so they read the words: Shipping Magnate Dead in Glasgow, Possible Assassination.
And then: Does Britain Have a Serial Killer on the Loose?
Adam said, “Who is Paulina Vittorini?”
Nicholas said, “She’s one of the foremost shipbuilders in the world. I believe her shipyard is currently building the latest warships for the British navy.”
Mike leaned forward toward Harry. “Sir, does she have ties to Terry Alexander?”
Harry nodded. “He was the Secretary of Defense. No way she wouldn’t have had contact with him since the naval contract was awarded. The media isn’t stupid. They’re going to go ballistic.”
Like Mike, Nicholas leaned toward his father, his voice low, “Did Heinrich Hemmler or Donovan Chapman have anything to do with the British military?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said. “But we’ll certainly have to find out.”
Adam chewed on his samosa. “Sir, this is very good. I don’t guess we’ll be having more lunch now, will we?”
* * *
Nicholas rose. “Everyone stay and eat. I’ve got to call Penderley. Don’t eat it all, Adam.”
Penderley answered immediately. “I know why you’re calling, and I don’t know. This belongs to the CID blokes in Glasgow. If you can get on-site quicker than my people, let me know.”
Nicholas said, “Copy that,” and hung up. To his father, he said, “Any chance you can get us on a chopper to Glasgow?”
“I can. Is that the best use of your time, though?”
“I’ll go,” Mike said. “You and Adam need to work on fixing the code.”
“I’ve got the code,” Adam said, forking down a prawn. “You two can head north. Trident and Clancy are still at Northolt. They were going to stick around in case we needed to send messages back to New York, but I think Trident really wanted to visit the Tower of London. The G5 will be faster than a chopper.”
“Mike’s right, Adam, this job needs both of us. We’ve got to restore secure comms to Security Services, and that will take a while.” He sent a quick text to Clancy. It was Trident who texted back immediately:
We’re still here, we’re gassing up.
“Mike, they’re with the plane, not off at the Tower of London. Take Ben, I’ll have him meet you at RAF Northolt.”
“If I recall, the last time we flew to Scotland, we had to take the prime minister’s Hawker.”
Nicholas gave her a smile. “As I recall, we had quite an adventure,” which made her roll her eyes.
She looked at the television again. “Whoever is doing this is showing off, or it’s a massive payback.”
“Payback?” Harry repeated. “Why do you think that?”
She shook her head. “It just popped out.”
“Or maybe revenge,” Adam said, and ate another prawn. “If it is revenge, it’s mighty harsh.”
“Well, whatever,” Mike said, “it’s high time to stop them.”
Harry said, “Michaela, you must promise to be careful. Scarves around your neck, no exposed skin. And I want you in protective gear. Please make sure the pilots have everything before you take off.”
“Don’t worry, Harry. I’m not in the mood to be attacked again. I could go the rest of my life without seeing another drone. But we do have all the proper gear on the plane. As for you, Nicholas, finish your lunch, and as Superintendent Penderley says, you and your dad get this sorted. I’m calling Ben, time to get him in on all this.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
RAF Northolt
