The Lost Key (A Brit in the FBI 2)

“All in favor?” This time, to Weston’s relief, all the hands raised.

“Excellent,” Weston said. “Alex will be well pleased by this news. I will tell you, he is currently with Sophie Pearce, who is cooperating fully with helping us locate her brother. As you know, Adam Pearce has the exact coordinates of the sub, and, as I said, he wisely ran from the FBI. We will have him with us again, very soon, and we will keep him safe from the FBI.

“Alex tells me Sophie Pearce is passing him a message to come in, and we will guarantee him safe passage from the FBI and any further persecution on the Americans’ behalf. As soon as I have news, I will send our new Messenger to you.”

There were murmurs among the group. It was time for the last play. Weston drew in his breath. He knew this was going to be tricky.

He cleared his throat to bring all their attention to him. “Gentlemen, before we adjourn for the day, we need to nominate and vote in one last member. This will bring us back to full strength and we can then move forward, helping Havelock retrieve the key. Alfie Stanford relayed to me his desire to see Heinz Gernot take his place. You’re all familiar with the man; Gernot is the head of Germany’s—”

Oliver Leyland banged his fist on the table. “Wait a minute, Edward. Gernot would change the balance of the Order. We always have eight Brits. This would give the Germans two seats.”

Weston smiled. “As I said, Alfie told me Gernot would be ideal, with his obvious influence in the EU. Indeed, he was quite insistent we begin to branch out, to lessen the British grip a bit. And Gernot is a friend of this country. Why, last month he—”

Leyland jumped to his feet, fury pouring off him. “No. I will not go along with this. We will not be forced into yet another new member, not until Alfie’s papers are located and we can actually read his wishes and reasons.”

Weston met his eyes and asked in a very quiet voice, “Are you calling me a liar, Leyland?”

“I don’t see Alfie nominating Gernot,” Leyland said. Of course Weston was lying. But why? Leyland looked around the room at the faces that seemed content and those that were clearly disturbed. He took a mental count. Something was very wrong here.

He turned back to Weston. He had to stay calm. “You already seem to have a majority vote, Edward. Another few days without a fifteenth member won’t matter and you all know it. We should wait until we actually have the key and the weapon is secured before reworking nearly three centuries of practice.

“Gentlemen, allowing Havelock to join is a mistake, one we will come to regret. Adding Gernot is insanity.”

Leyland was eloquent, damn him. The other members began talking among themselves. Weston threw up his hands. He knew better than to push Leyland further. “Fine, fine. We will wait. But there is one more bit of business. We need a pro tem leader until all fifteen members can meet and vote for a new one.” He cleared his throat. “I am willing to proceed in the role until such time as we can have a clear vote.”

Leyland met Weston’s eye, and barked a short, humorless laugh. “It seems you’ve already taken over, Weston. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

He stalked out of the room, leaving the remaining Order members to look after him.

Weston watched him go, and calculated. Could Havelock safely eliminate Leyland?

He turned back to the group. They looked uncertain. Get them back on board, man, or you might have trouble. While Havelock had been voted in, he still wasn’t a full member and wasn’t supposed to be given the secrets of the Order until that ceremony was complete. But Havelock already knew as much as any of them. Weston had seen to that. He thought briefly of the ten million pounds safe in four different Swiss bank accounts. He thought of the power Havelock promised him once they had Madame Curie’s weapon, once he and Havelock together would decide what to do with it.

He held up his hands. “All will be well, my friends. Leyland is right, these are difficult times for us all. We can table the newest member for the time being, until this crisis has passed,” and he nodded to each of them in turn, now the man in charge, their leader. He fully intended to remain in charge.

—

ON THE STREET BELOW, Oliver Leyland stepped into his waiting Jaguar XJ, slammed the door, and waved for his driver to proceed. He immediately rang one of his oldest friends. Thankfully, Harry Drummond answered on the first ring.

“Harry? It’s Leyland. We have a very serious problem.”

52

Over the Atlantic

8:00 a.m. ET

Nicholas’s fingers hadn’t stopped flying over the keyboard since they’d left Teterboro. Mike had heard him talking to Gray, much of their language too technical for her to get more than the gist.

She’d eaten her fill, then set a steaming cup of coffee and a few muffins at his right hand. He’d eaten and sipped from the coffee absently, never stopping. She’d never seen him coding before; he wasn’t kidding about

being in another world.

She was on her second cup of coffee and debating a third when she spotted a report from deep in the FBI files about an organization they’d identified as the Highest Order. What a highfalutin moniker that was.

Then she read on and her heart began a wild hoedown. This was it, she was sure of it. She finished reading the dossier. It was maddeningly brief, but gave her at least some background on who they might be dealing with.

“Nicholas. Take a break. I’ve found something.”