CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
Mike found Nicholas and Harry in a treatment room inside the A&E—accident and emergency—wing. Harry sported a butterfly bandage on his temple and was in a full-blown argument with the doctor, who wanted to admit him for observation overnight.
“No, absolutely not. I passed the concussion protocol, and I have things to do.”
Nicholas said to the harassed doctor, “You aren’t going to change his mind, I’m afraid. I’ll make sure he doesn’t exert himself.”
The doctor handed them the discharge papers, and Mike heard him calling them mother hens as he walked out past her. She waited until the three of them were alone to say, “Isabella confirmed Roman’s been killing and exsanguinating men and women, primarily Romanian, all over Europe, hoping they might be a match to Radu, for a cure. He’s the Vampire Killer. She told me some other things, too, about the pages and the Voynich, how it came down to her. It’s all very strange.”
Nicholas said, “You and I, Mike, strange always seems to find its way to us. Now, one mystery solved. You’ll get that news to Penderley so he can start the proceedings with Interpol?”
“Already texted him.”
Harry, shrugging on his smoky, dirty jacket, asked, “No ideas from her where Ardelean might be or what he might be up to?”
“She says no, outside of overhearing him tell his brother a shipment had arrived and he was going to bring the program to light.”
“The drones,” Nicholas said.
“Probably. But how, and when? She didn’t know anything else, and I believe her. To make her cooperate, he threw food on her stomach and sent a falcon for it.” She told them the rest, Harry asking questions, many of which she couldn’t answer.
Harry said, “We all need food and sleep, and no more drone or falcon attacks. Ideas?”
Nicholas said, “The Connaught?”
Harry nodded. “Why not? Ardelean can’t be scoping out all the hotels in London, can he? I’ll get us a large suite, have Adam and Ben meet us there. I’ll put it under the name Oliver Kittredge.” He chuckled. “They’ll know what to do.”
Mike yawned, and her ear cracked. Her head cleared. “Finally.”
“What happened? You okay?”
“Yes, it was my ear. It’s been hurting since the safe house exploded. I’m fine. Sort of tired, that’s all. Let’s get ourselves to the Connaught. Is it a fancy place as befits the two of you?”
The three-bedroom suite at the Connaught was beautifully appointed, with a marble fireplace, exquisite blue velvet sofas, and floor-to-ceiling living room windows looking over the sleeping occupants of Mayfair. They set up the computers on the dining room table and ordered fancy pizzas, club sandwiches, warm tomato basil soup, a whole cheesecake, and a separate order of fish and chips for Adam, who swore he wasn’t going to eat anything else for the rest of his life.
Melinda joined Ben and brought news from Downing Street. “The U.S. president’s trip is not going to be canceled. He’ll be showing up tomorrow as scheduled. First stop, Downing Street, then a press conference at Lancaster House. Then he’ll do Buckingham Palace, then he speaks to Parliament. A private dinner is last on the agenda, at Winfield. I’m telling you, every stop is a target. We’ve warned them it’s not safe, but he’s stubborn.”
Nicholas laughed. “You don’t know the half of it, Melinda. Mike and I learned that the hard way at Camp David.”
“Problem is,” Adam said, chewing a fry drowned in vinegar, “every single place except the dinner is on the list of blueprints we found on Ardelean’s hard drives. So Ardelean could be planning an attack on any of them.”
Nicholas said, “Or none of them. Bringing the ‘program to light,’ and what else did Isabella say, Mike?”
“Give the world a show.” She took a sip of soda, continued. “Look, he’s lost the one thing that mattered to him, his brother. And he believes everyone in the government is responsible, and that includes the prime minister. He could fly a drone up to 10 Downing Street and shoot off a missile right through the windows like he did at the safe house, and no one could stop him.”
Harry said, “He wants to give the world a show—and to me that means he wants to make a big splash, make a definitive statement, kill as many people as he can. And the sites with the extensive blueprints are the most likely targets.”
Ben asked, “So then, what do you think would bring him the biggest bang for the buck? Buckingham Palace or Parliament?”
Melinda said, “I forgot—they’re going to be having a barbecue at Buckingham Palace, like they did with President Obama. It will be outdoors. The PM and the president, manning the grill.”
Nicholas jumped up from his seat. “That’s it. Adam, bring up the plans for Buckingham Palace. What better way to show off his army than attacking the president and the prime minister, and blowing up the Queen’s house?”