The Lost Key (A Brit in the FBI 2)

Oh, yes, this was definitely how he wanted to introduce himself to the neighborhood, as the victim of a home invasion in his first month on the street. At least his FBI badge had calmed some of them down and no one had called the police.

Waving jauntily to one last staring woman in a thick spa bathrobe, Nicholas stepped back inside the house. They all needed some rest, some time to recharge.

Nicholas knew in his heart Grossman was long gone. He recognized a fellow operative when he saw one. Grossman had been formally trained in countersurveillance, like Nicholas. He’d slipped in, taken what he needed, and gotten out again in under five minutes. He’d only maimed, not killed; he clearly understood the level to which he could go without creating a serious problem for himself. Breaking into an FBI agent’s home was one thing. If he’d killed Nigel, or Mike, that would be a whole different story.

If Nicholas weren’t so pissed off, he’d admire the man.

Where did the Pearces fit into all of this? Adam Pearce, especially, the young hacker with clear abilities to gain access to very private information. The kid was another ghost. Where was he? How did a nineteen-year-old evade a city-wide dragnet?

By getting out of the city, obviously, right under their noses.

He walked into the house to see Mike sitting on a small loveseat inside the front door, lightly rubbing her jaw. She was still spitting mad; he was pretty sure her anger was the only thing keeping her upright.

“How are you feeling?”

“The EMTs said I had a purple bruise which would fade to a lovely lavender, my pride is pretty well trampled, but other than that, I’m fine. Do you know Nigel wanted to make me a cup of tea? I told him to make himself some tea and go to bed.”

“Perhaps you should have let him. I hate to tell you this, but you look like you need a bit of a lie-down.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and got to her feet, held her hands up in front of her. They didn’t waver. She opened her eyes. “See? Solid as a rock.”

He was dubious, but said, “Okay, then, if you’re up for it, Gray’s sent what he had of Pearce’s files to my server. Let’s go back to the library. I can access everything Grossman stole from us and maybe we’ll see exactly what’s going on here. I don’t suppose you recall what I told you when you entered the library at gunpoint?”

“No, the hit to my jaw knocked it right out.”

“Pearce and Adam were looking for a German U-boat, Victoria. It was lost at sea—on eternal patrol—in September of 1917. Adam’s been breaking into the satellite imagery from various defense contractors’ very secret LEO-synchronous satellites for the past six months, ever since the technology was developed to allow the satellites to look through land to the water beneath. It’s similar technology to Thales’s Sentinel-Two satellite—very high-resolution imaging. The files show he’d narrowed the search to the North Sea, on the northern coast of Scotland.”

“So why is this submarine so important? I mean, 1917, that’s World War One. A lot of U-boats went down, right? What did Victoria have on board that was so special, even after nearly one hundred years?”

“You may be onto something there. According to Pearce’s files, the sub was stolen from the Germans, and went down with some sort of key on board, and, of all things, some of the kaiser’s gold, though I wouldn’t count on that being accurate. No, what’s vital to everyone is this key. That’s as far as I’d gotten in the files when you showed up with our friend Mr. Grossman, and he liberated my laptop. And my Tardis, I’ll bet I never see it again. I loved that thumb drive. At least Grossman doesn’t actually have anything, either.”

“You really managed to wipe everything before he got his hands on any of Pearce’s data?”

He nodded. They reached the library, and Mike didn’t fight him when he pointed at the couch. She knew she was okay, but Nicholas seemed to like nursing her, and she couldn’t say having him hover over her was the worst thing that had ever happened in her life.

Nicholas took the beat-up leather chair opposite her. She noticed he fit into it like it had been built around him. He pulled out another laptop.

“How many computers do you have?”

“Oh, a few. You never know when an operative is going to break in and steal one.”

“An operative? You think Grossman is a spy?”

“I do. And a very good one, too. No doubt in my mind he’s had covert training. To best Nigel, who’s trained in hand-to-hand combat, and to best you, as well? To sneak in here like a thief in the night and confront us? And to put together the operation in only a few hours? He had no idea who we were until he came to Ariston’s this morning. Yes, to plan and execute this so quickly, get past my security and my butler? And you? He’s a pro.”

“Maybe you need a dog.”

He laughed. “Not a bad idea. Nigel would walk him and he’d hate that. Yes, that’s good.”

“Do you have any idea what Grossman’s real connection was to Jonathan Pearce, and to Sophie?”

“Not yet, but I’d wager there was something in that book Sophie passed him this morning. She was so adamant he receive the package. You could tell he wanted it badly.”

Mike said, “When Grossman had me around the neck, he said something I’ve heard you say—There’s a good girl. And he sounded British before he realized it and reverted back to perfect American.”

Nicholas perked up. “Interesting. No one ever checked him out, did they?”

“We had a lot of balls in the air today. I do remember he said he owned a pub. It won’t be hard to see if he was telling the truth. We’ll have to ask Ben, he can do a background on him. If Grossman’s even his real name, of course. So Sophie’s in on it since she did hand off the book to Grossman, plus she wasn’t at all anxious to help us. And Adam, of course.”