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“A drone? We’ll canvas the scene and see, but no one’s mentioned it. You mean someone flew in a drone with a poisoned needle, shot it into her neck, and killed her?”
“It’s how the last three murders were committed in London. Do you have an evidence bag for this needle?”
Mackenzie snapped his fingers, and a crime scene tech in a white Tyvek suit appeared.
“We’ll take care of it. Sorry, I can’t hand a murder weapon to the FBI and let you walk off with it.”
Mike grinned. “If you did, I’d report you to your boss. But we do need it sent for analysis immediately. Scotland Yard has the information. You can get in touch with Superintendent Hamish Penderley—he’s the head of London CID—and he’ll give your lab instructions.”
Mackenzie relayed this information, and the chain of custody was established so they could rush the needle to the lab. That done, he said, “Walk with me.”
He led them downriver twenty yards, back into the silence of the shipyard. When they stopped, Mike said, “If you’re about to tell us something important, you need to turn off your phone.”
Mackenzie didn’t hesitate, turned it off, and shoved it back in his pocket, then asked, “Why?”
Ben said, “Comms in London are compromised. We can’t take any chances that yours are, too.”
A dark eyebrow went up. “This sounds like a right proper cock-up. Now, given this is clear-cut murder, we had a look around. There’s a warehouse on the edge of the shipyard locked up tight. Ms. Coes told us no one was ever allowed in there but Mrs. Vittorini. I believe you should have a look.”
CHAPTER FORTY
MI5 Headquarters, Home Office
Thames House
12 Millbank
Westminster, London
We’ve swept everything again, sir, and there’s nothing else.”
Harry dismissed the aide and shut the door. As Nicholas watched, his father walked to the bar and poured a small finger of Scotch. Harry tipped the bottle at him in question. Nicholas wasn’t used to seeing his father drink during the day but was perfectly happy to join him. Adam had no choice but to agree. With three drinks poured, they took their spots at the table and sipped, Adam making faces as he sipped the Scotch.
Harry stuck out his glass. “Come on, lad, puts hair on your chest. Drink up.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Adam said, then brightened. “I wonder how Scotch taste
s with Red Bull in it.” He poured the rest of his can in the glass while Nicholas and Harry looked on in horror.
Adam took another sip, and a big grin came across his face. “Much better.” He opened his laptop, “I’m going to keep working our patch so we can get comms up and running. I don’t like being blind, deaf, and dumb with the rest of the team.”
Nicholas nodded. “Mike and Ben should be in Scotland shortly. With luck, we’ll have things working by the time they’re ready to report in. Now, how did your people miss the bug earlier, Father? Was it different than the earlier listening devices?”
“It was. Much smaller. Ian told me it was a different technology. We weren’t equipped to find it. No excuse, I know.”
“Are there cameras in the office so we can see who might have placed it?”
“No. We’ve never spied on ourselves, which means we’ve created a perfect system for someone to infiltrate. They know they won’t be seen.” Harry rested his forehead in his hand for a brief moment. “Either way, I believe it’s time for me to report to the home secretary and explain our vulnerabilities. You’ll excuse me?”
“Certainly. Adam and I are going to do some more patching on your servers so we can be assured no one from the outside is looking in. With your permission, we’ll also begin looking terminal by terminal at possible breaches, uploads, and malware that could be responsible for the breach. The MATRIX software is powerful, but we have a few tricks up our sleeves. We might be able to put all of this to rest shortly.”
“Thank you, Nicholas. I will let the home secretary know you’re working on this for us. Better to have someone from the outside, since we’re not sure who we can trust in-house.”
Nicholas and Adam got to work, sweeping through the servers and into the individual terminals—of which there were thousands of possibilities.
Adam said, “I wrote a program that looks for the vulnerability. I thought you could piggyback on it with a variation that looks for those strange numbers, four-zero-eight, in Radulov’s base code.”
“That’s an excellent idea. Let’s get to it. You install your program, and I’ll work on a secondary sweep. When we disengage the code, we can upload our own, and we should have a fully encrypted communications system back online.”
