The Final Cut (A Brit in the FBI 1)
“It’s certainly faster than driving.”
“Fifteen minutes, tops. We should reach Tweed before Victoria’s cab arrives.”
“Yeah, we will.”
Mike said, “You think there’s something else going on, don’t you?”
“I’m wondering how we got this lucky.”
The pilot spoke in their ears: “We’re five minutes out.”
Mike said, “Thanks, Charlie,” and looked back to Nicholas. “Sometimes gift horses really neigh, don’t they? With any luck, we’re about to wrap this whole thing up. We’ll bring Victoria back to New York and restore the diamond to the crown. And there will be rejoicing in the kingdom again.”
Charlie said in their headsets, “I already heard about the theft on the radio. Talk about a brouhaha—I sure hope this comes off easy.”
“It will.” She turned to Nicholas. “When this is wrapped up, I’m hoping we can get Victoria to talk, tell us how this whole thing went down and who financed it.”
He said, “If we do catch her, don’t count on her opening her mouth. No thief of her reputation would ever nail the boss. Ever.”
“It’s against a thief’s moral code?”
“In her case, I’m sure it would be.”
The lights of the Tweed Airport runway glittered in the distance, and the pilot broke into their conversation. “Tweed tower has cleared the airspace surrounding the airport and we’re on a path to intercept. Are we a go?”
Mike said, “We are a go, Charlie. This isn’t exactly a high-traffic airport, but there are still several cabs. Have you identified our target?”
“Yep, we’ve got a lock on the cab. We have clearance to stop it before it reaches the airport. We’ll drop down right in front of it as soon as it takes the exit. Do you know if the suspect is armed?”
“I can’t confirm either way. Better be ready for anything, Charlie.”
He relayed the message to the tac team. Six heads nodded in unison.
The helicopter banked to the left, circling out over the water before diving back toward the highway. Mike saw police lights turn on, five squads merging into traffic, two ahead of the cab, three behind. It was a beautifully timed intercept. The cab slowed, then pulled to the side of the road.
Charlie hovered the chopper for a moment, and the tac team sprang into action, slithering down cords to the ground. They surrounded the cab, weapons pointed. The troopers stepped in.
It was over in a heartbeat, the cabbie out and on the ground with his hands on his head, Victoria Browning pulled from the backseat. Mike pulled off her headset, and could hear her screams over the helicopter’s rotors, hear her crying out, “What are you doing? Why are you arresting me?”
The instant Charlie set the chopper down on the road, Nicholas ripped off his headset and jumped out the door, Mike on his heels, her Glock at the ready.
Nicholas yelled before he reached her. “Where is the Koh-i-Noor, Dr. Browning?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her black hair blew back from her face, and Nicholas knew this gift horse wouldn’t neigh.
“Bloody hell. Who is this?”
Mike lowered her weapon. “I don’t know. But she’s definitely not Victoria Browning.”
34
Mike called over the roar of the helicopter rotors, “It’s the wrong cab. We’ve got the wrong cab.” She started toward the head of the tactical unit, but Nicholas grabbed her arm.
“No, it’s the same license plate. She duped us. Again. Well, bollocks.”
Mike whirled around and made a cutting motion across her neck. Charlie shut down the rotors, and they could hear each other again. The troopers shoved the woman into the backseat of a vehicle, the cabbie in a separate car.
Mike wanted to kick the helicopter skids. “How did she pull this off? Did she get out along the way? Trade places with this woman? Did she set it all up beforehand?”