The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI 5)

The unmistakable whir of a drone’s rotors.

Nicholas yelled, “The safe house. He’s going to attack the safe house. He must know about Temora!”

* * *

As Roman sped away, his bruised ribs began to throb. He looked up to see Arlington, flying overhead, always watching him.

“All is well”—and he laughed. He used his headphone to make a call.

“Do it,” he said.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

They hurried back to the safe house, eyes to the sky.

Harry opened the door, stared at them in shock. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“Father, Ardelean wants to kill Temora. He’s going to send a drone to bomb the house. We have to get him out now,” and Nicholas bolted for the basement door. Harry sounded a silent alarm that Mike saw start to flash on the wall, a blinking red light. She could feel the house come to life under her, heard shouts as Nicholas reached the cells.

And then she heard the unmistakable sound of a drone and a loud whoosh.

She threw herself toward the basement stairs, pulling Harry with her, the two of them tumbled down the metal staircase, just as the missile burst through the ballistic glass window and exploded in the sitting room.

The concussion made her eardrums pop. She cried out, felt blood start to trickle from an ear. She realized she and Harry were tangled together at the base of the metal stairs. The flashing red light strobed over Harry’s face. His eyes were closed, blood snaked down his face. “Oh no, Harry!” Vaguely, as if she were underwater, she heard Nicholas shouting for her. “I’m okay! I have your dad. He’s hurt.”

He was there in a heartbeat, first gave her a quick once-over, then touched the blood on his father’s head, over his right ear. “Dad, can you please wake up?”

Harry’s eyelids fluttered, and Nicholas let out a shaky breath. “Tell me you know who I am.”

Amazingly, Harry smiled, not much of one, but it meant everything to Nicholas. “Ah, are you the prime minister? Come, Nicholas, I’ll live to fight another day.”

Nicholas gave a laugh. “Good, but we need to get you out of here. I smell smoke coming from upstairs. There’s a back door. Dad, can you stand?”

Harry managed a nod. “There’s a back door.” He was weaving as Nicholas pulled him up. Mike felt wobbly herself. Her ears hurt, and she had the oddest sensation of vertigo every time she looked to the side. It was odd, but her hands didn’t hurt anymore.

“Nicholas, look.”

They saw flames licking the opening to the basement. “Let’s collect everyone and get out of here.”

Temora was in the hallway between the two guards she’d seen earlier, eyes wide, scared to death.

“What do you want us to do with him, sir?”

Harry managed to say, “We’re all going out the back door, Connor. Bring him along. And take care.”

Temora said more to himself than to them, “Why is Roman attacking me, trying to kill me? I helped him. I let him know Barstow was using him. I sent him the bloody video, showed him what Barstow was really like, that old monster. He should be thanking me, not trying to kill me.”

Nicholas paused only a moment. “You said it yourself, Caleb. With Roman, it’s always personal. You betrayed him, and he never forgot it.”

Nicholas led, holding up his father, the guards followed with Temora, and Mike took up the rear, ears ringing, keeping her weapon up. At the end of the hall was a steel door, and, farther down, another. They secured the doors behind them as they went, and within five minutes, they were stepping up a flight of metal stairs into the garden off Farm Street.

Nicholas said, “Connor, take Temora to Thames House, to MI5. Keep him safe. We’ll take Harry to hospital.”

Mike watched the skies for birds or drones, but it was quiet, business as usual, trees ruffling in the night breeze and pigeons cooing.

The car that had brought Harry was back on the corner, waiting. The driver, a seasoned MI5 agent, didn’t miss a beat as they bundled Harry into the back seat. He said, “Let me tell you it’s good to see you all alive. The house is burning, coppers are all over the scene. Mike, you’re bleeding, too, there’s a kit in the back of the seat. We’re going to get blasted in the news for this one. Where to, Mr. Drummond?”

Harry said, “Take us to Chelsea and Westminster Hospital.”