Nicholas said, “If these two men were assassinated, we must catch whomever is behind the deaths as quickly as possible, or President Bradley’s trip will most likely be canceled. So tell me, sir, what do you think is happening?”
“I haven’t the faintest yet, but there is one thing different in today’s attack on Hemmler. Several people have reported seeing a small drone in the area, like a toy, almost. One witness even took a picture of it.”
Nicholas’s blood stirred. “Ah. Have you enhanced it?”
“Yes. Am I correct to assume you would like to have a crack at it?”
“I would, yes.”
“I’ll send it along, in addition to everything else we have. Report back to me the moment you discover anything, would you, Drummond? I’d like us to be on the same page before the media storm hits.” A pause, then the familiar no-nonsense order from his old boss: “Get it sorted, Drummond.”
He couldn’t help himself, he grinned into his mobile. “Yes, sir. I’ll be in touch.”
Nicholas hung up the phone as Agent Michaela Caine walked into the kitchen, a towel around her neck, her face glistening with sweat, her blond ponytail at half-mast. Despite the vigorous run, she still smelled faintly of jasmine. He took the towel from around her neck and patted her face. “There, perfect again.” Knowing a lot of eyes were watching, he took a step back, studied her face for a moment. “Not too tired, are you?”
“No, I’m good. You’re vibrating, Nicholas. What’s going on?”
How could she know? “Nothing, well, not exactly nothing. I know it’s our vacation, but we have a case, a very high-profile case. Fact is, two big-time politicos, one of them the vice chancellor of Germany, are both dead within twenty-four hours of each other. Both simply collapsed, dead very quickly.” He saw her blue eyes light up and grinned. “You in the mood to work a couple of deaths that are very probably murders?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Mike loved Old Farrow Hall, particularly its multitude of fireplaces, all of them with a provenance, it seemed, that kept the huge house warm even on a chilly day in July. Nicholas’s office was no exception, with its nineteenth-century Venetian green-veined marble fireplace, glowing embers occasionally sparking off flames. His mother had decorated his office and made it both inviting and efficient. And not at all shabby. The fireplace was framed by dark wood paneling. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled haphazardly with paperbacks and hardcovers. A small desk and chair sat in a corner. But what made the room really welcoming were the burgundy leather sofa and two comfortable chairs, complemented by colorful dhurrie rugs. Her mind flew off to his visit to her suite of rooms in the opposite wing the previous night and—
“First things first,” Nicholas said, pulling out his cell phone.
“What? Oh, right, you want to take care of the ransomware problem first.”
He stared at her a moment. “Wool gathering, Agent Caine?”
“Maybe. A little bit, maybe about last night. You’re going to call Adam about the attack?”
“Yes, I want to get him working on both the drone and the malware. What about last night?”
She gave him a mad grin. “Oh, just a little of this, a little of that, nothing much of importance. First, tell me, does Penderley have any idea why the vice chancellor was murdered? Did Hemmler do anything to make himself a target, like someone who hates Germany for their dominating role in the E.U.? And what about this Chapman Donovan?”
Nicholas sat on the sofa and booted up his laptop, saying as he typed, “No, evidently no one has the foggiest idea. Hemmler was meeting with the PM to discuss England’s stand on open borders, maybe to try twisting the PM’s arm, but that’s not earthshaking. Nor does Penderley know why someone would target Chapman Donovan, a wealthy Irish landowner. Family’s been in horse racing for two hundred years, very rich, and an MP from Belfast West.”
“What about the drone someone spotted near where Hemmler died?”
“Penderley is sending a photo along with all his files any minute now. With luck, we’ll be able to identify the drone’s maker and put a stop to this straightaway. I’ll call Adam now. He’ll be able to enhance the photo faster than I can. And I’ll wager he knows all about the malware attacks and will be able to help with that.”
“It’s the middle of the night in New York.”
“You know Adam does his best work at two in the morning.” Nicholas grinned at her when Adam’s face popped up on the screen immediately. He didn’t seem tired or sleepy, had his earbuds in, a bright blue Star Trek Voyager T-shirt on, and a can of Red Bull in front of him, as always.
Adam said, “Hey, you guys are supposed to be on vacation. Did you get called in on the vice chancellor’s murder or the malware attack?”
Had he ever doubted Adam wouldn’t already know about both? No, he hadn’t. He said, “Both. First, how are your photo-enhancement skills?”
“You wouldn’t ask if you didn’t know I’m about the best on the planet. Sending me a file?”
“Any minute, as soon as Penderley sends it to me.”
Mike said, “Hi, Adam. Would you believe I’m getting a suntan in jolly old England? No? Stop laughing. Is everything okay there?”
“Absolutely. I’m bored to tears, and you know what happens when I get bored.”
Nicholas said, “No, and neither Mike nor I want to know. Tell me you’ve been solving the malware problem.”
“I will say I’m looking into it, but I haven’t solved it yet. I can tell you the initial hack appears to have come out of western Russia, and I’ve been purchasing website domain names, thinking I’ll hit on one that might be able to halt it. On the other hand, the attack could be from Tahiti, with someone really bright at the helm, disguising its point of origin. You want me to keep working on it?”
“Not to play favorites, but my grandfather’s firm has been hit, as well. Feel free to use his site to halt the attack. Giles Fourtnoy is his IT man. I’ll send him a text, tell him to expect your call. I am also sending a wee bit of code you might enjoy deploying when you find the back door.”
He hit send, and a few moments later, Adam’s eyes lit up, and he whistled. “Dude. Where does your brain come up with this nasty stuff?”
“It’s a gift. I have the photo from Penderley, sending it now.” And again, Nicholas pressed send.
Mike could see Adam frowning as he looked at the screen.
“This resolution sucks. Was this shot with a cell phone?”
Nicholas said, “As far as we know, yes.”
“It almost looks like a toy helicopter, doesn’t it? If I have the scale right, based on that window on the right side of the photo, it looks like it could fit in the palm of your hand.”
Nicholas waited, and, sure enough, after only a short pause, Adam said, “If I were a betting man, I’d say it was a military-grade micro UAV—unmanned air vehicle.” Adam clicked a few keys, and the specs came up on the screen. “The small ones like this are almost always either toys or military-grade. This photo matches dimensions with a British military Black Hornet drone. They call it a nanodrone. Four port cameras, battery-powered, it can stay aloft over twenty-five minutes. It can fly pretty quick, too, if someone needed it to make a getaway. Not something you can buy at Radio Shack, even if you can find one nowadays. Who does this belong to?”
Nicholas said, “That’s what we have to find out. It was hovering over the crime scene today. A person in the crowd forwarded the photo to Scotland Yard. I suppose the drone could belong to a member of Downing Street security and it’s all a coincidence—”
“Or someone wanting to do bad things, more likely,” Adam said.
Mike was leaning over Nicholas’s shoulder. “Like murder the vice chancellor.”
“Yes,” Nicholas said. “If it is murder, then this drone could have the capability to deliver some sort of weapon.”