“Oh, Holly,” Kate Lee said, “I was about to call you. Sit down with us, and let’s talk about Hamish McCallister.”
Holly sat down. “Hamish is on a flight from LAX to London as we speak.”
“Then I’d better mobilize my people,” Felicity said.
“No, that won’t be necessary. The Secret Service is arranging to have the flight diverted to JFK on some maintenance excuse. The FBI will pick him up there.”
“You’ve been busy,” Kate said.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry we couldn’t detain him here, it would have been easier. The question now is, once the FBI has him in New York, what do we do with him?”
“The same thing we were going to do with him before,” Kate said.
“With the FBI involved?”
Kate stood up. “Excuse me a moment, I think I know somebody who can get the FBI uninvolved.” She left them and went upstairs.
Felicity sighed. “This would have been a lot easier if you had just kidnapped him in London.”
Holly laughed. “Would that have been your preference?”
“I’d have been happy to have him off our hands,” Felicity said.
—
Ten minutes later, Kate returned. “All right,” she said, “the FBI is off the case. Holly, you call Langley and get a crew out to JFK to greet the gentleman. Have them remove him to our East Side facility in the city and locked down, no conversation with anybody. I’ll have further instructions for them when they have him secured there.”
Holly excused herself, went into the study, and called Lance Cabot.
“Yes?”
“It’s Holly.”
“Good day, Holly. I trust you’re enjoying the California sunshine. Everyone here hates you for being there.”
“Thanks so much. The director asked me to call you with some instructions.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a passenger aboard British Airways Flight 106 from LAX to Heathrow, departed LAX about twenty minutes ago. The flight is going to be diverted to JFK, and the director would like for you to assemble a team and transportation and meet that flight. There’s a passenger named Hamish McCallister aboard.”
“Wait a minute, I know that name from when I was at the London station. Man-about-town, and all that.”
“He’s our asset, reporting directly to the director.”
“What?”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Lance. All will be explained later. You are to remove McCallister to our East Side facility in the city and isolate him pending further instructions. He’s suspected of being the ringleader in a plot to bomb The Arrington.”
“Hamish McCallister? That fop? He’s harmless!”
“He’s real trouble, Lance. You have less than three hours to put this together, and I suggest that once you’ve given the orders, you chopper to New York and take charge.”
“All right, tell the director it shall be done. Anything else?”
“Call me when he’s in hand.”
“Certainly.” Lance hung up.