The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI 5)

Mike came through right after him, her gun up.

It was dark, too dark, but she heard the faint whir of a drone. She shot toward the sound, into the dark, and the whirring stopped.

One down.

She heard the flap of wings and was ready when the falcon slammed into her. She struck it in the chest with her fist. The bird wheeled back, not hurt, but surprised. Suddenly there was light in the room, the switch turned on by Harry, and they saw Ardelean wasn’t there.

And then Nicholas realized where he was. “Westminster Hall, he’s in the hall! He’s got a whole army of drones with him. He was trying to herd everyone there. Up the stairs, up the stairs!” Nicholas took off, straight up the stairs into Westminster Hall.

Ardelean was standing with his back to them, arms spread wide.

Above him, motionless, were hundreds of drones.

His falcon saw them, though, and shrieked a warning. Ardelean turned slowly, stared at Nicholas.

He said, “Drummond, how nice of you to come before all those rapacious grasping criminals come flooding in here, believing they’ll be safe from me. It saves me the trouble of tracking you down. Do you know, I believe it’s time for you to die. Like my brother.”

The small drone moved into position by Ardelean’s shoulder, but before it could fire, Nicholas shouted a command at the falcon, a word he’d overheard Ardelean scream to his falcon that made it attack Mike.

“Obtine! Obtine!”

The falcon wheeled in midair and went after the small drone, shrieking, talons out. She whipped the drone to the floor, then flew after another, then another, before dropping to the stone floor, exhausted wings spread. She looked to her master for a reward, confused when there was no fresh meat coming.

Instead, Ardelean screamed in rage. “No!” He yelled for the falcon to attack, but the bird faltered, confused by two masters yelling at her.

Ardelean pulled a stiletto and hurled it at Nicholas, but Mike shoved Nicholas hard. The knife struck deep into the wall an inch from his head.

“No!” Roman screamed again, a death cry, and came at them.

“Stop!” Mike yelled at him.

But he didn’t. He was no longer thinking, he was a missile set on his course.

Nicholas fired, catching Roman in the throat. He spun in place, then crumpled to the ground almost at Nicholas’s feet.

Nicholas yanked the wrist communicator off Roman’s arm and smashed it to the ground, stomping on it for good measure.

The drone army dropped to the floor.

“Arlington,” Roman whispered, the name slurred in blood frothing from his mouth. The bird flew to his side, cheeping, hovering over him. His arm lifted, and Arlington stepped onto her master’s fist for the last time. He stroked the bird once, then his hand fell to his side. His head fell backward, his sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.

No one moved as the bird began to keen, a sound that made the hair on their necks stand up. They watched silently as the bird hopped on her master’s body, paced up and down, nudged his head, his arm

, flapping her great wings, as if to protect him. She looked back at Nicholas for a moment, and he would swear he saw something primal and vicious in her eyes before she hopped forward, and her sharp talons ripped a chunk out of Ardelean’s throat.

EPILOGUE

One Week Later

Mike suffered the boot, no choice. Her ankle was fractured, not badly, they said, only a hairline crack. But it still hurt like blue blazes to walk on, so they gave her a pair of crutches. How long for her ankle to heal? Not all that long, they said, and after telling her to keep weight off it, sent her on her way—released her into the wild, Nigel said, when he saw the ridiculous boot that marched up nearly to her knee.

It hurt to look at herself in the full-length mirror in Nicholas’s bedroom because all she could see was the boot, black as her dress, so that was something, certainly better than candy pink. No, she wasn’t a pretty sight.

Nicholas and Nigel came into the room. Nigel stopped in his tracks. “Ah, you look fetching, Mike.”

Fetching? She’d like to smack him, but, with the boot, she couldn’t move fast enough. “I look like an idiot. Come on, Nicholas, you need to man up and tell the truth.”

Nicholas said simply, “You look like a hero.”