CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ancient artworks illustrating falconry date back at least 3,500 years to ancient Mesopotamia and Mongolia. While historically falconry was an elite and male-dominated activity, we have records of several notable women enjoying the hobby, including Queen Elizabeth I, Catherine the Great of Russia, and Mary, Queen of Scots.
—Smithsonian Magazine
Roman kept his voice low and calm. “What is it, brother? What’s happened?”
“They know,” Radu whispered in their twin tongue. “They know about the drone that killed Hemmler. It was spotted.”
Roman blew out a relieved breath. He’d feared Radu would tell him Temora had managed to do more damage. “Don’t worry, Radu, it’s easily managed. They can’t trace it back to us.”
“You do not understand. I monitored a call to the Metropolitan Police after the attack. One of the policemen there—Penderley is his name—he discussed the case with that Brit FBI agent, Drummond, you know, the one whose father—”
“Drummond? That prick?” Roman felt a punch of anger, then brushed it away like lint from his suit coat. “Be calm. Listen to me: Drummond will not find us. We are safe. You are safe, Radu, I will always keep you safe.”
“I have a very bad feeling, Roman. Send Arlington to follow Drummond. She needs to watch him, see what he does—”
“No, no, there is no need to panic simply because some overgrown schoolboy who thinks he knows how to use a computer is aware of the drone. You know how to shield us from him. There is no reason for Arlington to leave the mews.”
But despite his calm, his reassurance, Radu again began wringing his hands, pulling on his dirty hair, pacing, pacing. Then he whirled around. “Word came to you from Scotland. Raphael pinpointed the location of the attack that stopped the malware hack. It came from Farrow-on-Gray, from Drummond’s house. He is much more than a prick, Roman—he has our scent, he knows about the drone killing Hemmler.”
Roman was shaking his head, but Radu grabbed his arm. “We must eliminate Drummond immediately. He’s going to London today, meeting with his father. If we stop him now, we can stay safe. Promise me, Roman, promise me you’ll deal with him. Now.”
Roman eyed his twin. Dark hair oily, too long, his skin practically translucent from being indoors so much. Was he wearing the same Police Synchronicity tour T-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing for the past several days? Roman would speak with Iago. This wouldn’t do. Iago was indulgent with Radu, too indulgent.
Kill Nicholas Drummond?
It was a good thought. Without Drummond at its head, that ridiculous private team the FBI allowed him to put together would fall apart. But even Roman had to admit having him operating on European soil again was dangerous. And now he’d stopped the malware attack in its tracks, put his own code into the mix, and he was also aware of the drone—Roman leaned on the edge of a cabinet, crossed his arms. “Suppose you’re right,” he said slowly, “how would we do it? Send a Night Hawk?”
Radu’s smile bloomed bright as a child’s. “Wouldn’t you want to do it yourself?”
He hated to dim his brother’s smile, but—“I might draw too much attention, though a few drops of the special medicine in his drink would save us a lot of headaches. No, I’m sorry, Radu, I believe a strike would be easier.”
Radu nodded. “He will not expect an attack. Eliminate him before he reaches London. It is something I feel strongly about.”
Still Roman was undecided.
“Roman, they are closing in. I can feel it here.” He smacked the side of his head. “And there is more. The latest dispatches from the Security Services show all their passwords are being changed hourly. They are putting new firewalls into place because of the ransomware attack this morning.”
Roman shrugged. “It’s not a problem. If I, the head of Radulov, go personally to Security Services and tell them I’ve come to them to install a new patch on their servers because of the malware attack, I will ensure we continue to receive all needful information.”
He took his twin’s hands between his. “Trust me, Radu, MI5 and MI6 have no idea who they’re dealing with. Once we close off all paths into MATRIX, no one else, including Temora, will ever be able to compromise us again. I promise. Please don’t worry.”
Radu stubbornly shook his head. “Kill Drummond.”
“I will consider it. Now, I want you to shower and allow Iago to cut your hair and make you presentable. You’ve entombed yourself in these rooms far too long. Tomorrow, after lunch, you and I shall go for a walk. We’ll watch the cabal fly. Would you like that?”
“Don’t speak to me as if I’m five years old, Roman. I don’t want to cut my hair, and I don’t care to see your vermin fly. We have more important tasks ahead. Speaking of Temora, you know he is as dangerous as Drummond. We must find him and cut off his head.”
“I plan to.”
Radu gave him a sly look that surprised Roman. “Kill Drummond and I swear I will find Temora for you.”
Roman didn’t immediately answer, and Radu stalked out of the room, to his kitchen. Roman followed, nodded toward the cooler he saw sitting on the granite countertop. “Have you run the Romanian’s blood?”
“Not yet. How much more have I to do?” Radu turned away from his brother and busied himself with a glass, ran water through the HEPA filter, drank it down, slowly. Roman didn’t like being ignored. He fought the urge to yell at his brother, but yelling would send Radu back into his silent shell, for who knew how long. As Radu had grown older, as they both had grown more dedicated, the littlest things sometimes set him off. They must remain united. They must. As if there weren’t enough on their plates, he knew they both had to focus on curing Radu’s illness. It was the most critical goal of Roman’s life. He wanted this precious being, this genius with death always lurking in the shadows near him, to be healthy again. He no longer wanted him to fear that a simple cut could cause him to bleed to death. If only he responded to medical treatments, but he never had.
He said, “Very well, Radu. Send Drummond’s tracking information to my mobile. And send this morning’s video feed while you’re at it. I want to see that treacherous German die all over again. He received his just desserts, like Donovan. I told Barstow I did him a favor, which he well knows. Today was supposed to be my payday, a billion pounds, but Barstow said the Money want their drones first. He’ll get them in line, or all of them will regret it. He swears he’ll talk them around. He told me tomorrow. Do I believe him? We’ll see.” He shook his head. “If only we could find Temora, drop a bomb on his cursed head.”
Radu drank more water, wiped his hand over his mouth. “Temora’s off-grid entirely. There’s been no sign of him anywhere for the past month. But I’ll find him, Roman.”
“Then he’s moved out of Aleppo and is working elsewhere. As soon as I’ve made my special upgrades on the servers, we’ll know again everything MI5 and MI6 know.”
As Roman walked back to the mews, he realized Radu was right. He hadn’t been sure about killing Drummond, but now he knew it was the best move. He hated to admit it, but Drummond was too smart. He was relentless. He and his partner, Caine, could cause him headaches he didn’t need right now. Very well.
He turned back to Radu’s suite. Radu was still in the kitchen, staring down at the Romanian’s blood on the countertop.
“Caine is going with Drummond this morning, yes? To London?”
“Yes.”
“Prepare a drone. But not a Night Hawk, we need to make this hit less subtle. We will take both him and Caine out on the A14, once he’s past Newmarket. Use an Aire Drone. We need a final test run of the technology anyway.”
Radu smiled and nodded. “Yes, Brother.”
“Be sure you follow with a distraction to draw attention well away from us. When they’re gone, I want there to be no question who was behind their deaths.”
“Who shall we blame?”
“I’m feeling very uncharitable toward the North Koreans, as is the rest of the world. But the Irish are a better choice. Drummond took out an entire cell of the IRA a few months back. It stands to reason they’d hold a grudge. After Donovan’s death, I’m sure they’re on alert.”
“Yes, that is good. I will take care of it.”
“Be careful, Radu. We can’t have this coming back to us.”
“I understand, Brother.”