“Do you know if he’s in town now?”
“If he is, we haven’t seen him.”
“Thank you so much for your help,” Ian said.
“Always happy to oblige MI6.”
Ian left the shop, called Dame Felicity, and reported his conversation with the tailor.
“Ah, Lord Kimbrough,” she said. “I don’t need to look him up in Debrett’s Peerage — I knew him. He died twenty years ago, and without issue. I would imagine that soon after that the sultan would have acquired his house.”
“I believe we should concentrate our efforts on Regent’s Park and ignore the property in Belgrave Square. And I believe we should begin outside surveillance of Regency House immediately.”
“I agree,” she replied. “The FBI team will arrive at RAF Northolt this evening. I would like you to meet them and escort them to the Hyde Park Barracks, headquarters of the Household Cavalry, where they will be housed in some vacant officers’ quarters. You might take Millie Martindale with you, since she is acquainted with Quentin Phillips, the team leader.”
“As you wish, Dame Felicity.”
“Early tomorrow morning, I would like the FBI team to occupy the first-floor conference room here as their operational headquarters. Agent Phillips may use the adjoining office, which is being cleared for him. Please ask our tech people to see that they have whatever of our equipment they may need and to observe as much of their work as possible.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“I’m feeling much better about this operation,” she said.
“I’m glad, ma’am. So am I.” They hung up, and Ian made a call to his number two, and gave the order to begin surveillance of the Regent’s Park house. He started to call Millie on his cell phone, then realized she was right around the corner. He walked around to Harry’s Bar and entered. He could see Millie, Stone Barrington, and another man at a corner table, where they were just attending to the bill, so he waited in the bar.
Millie spotted Ian as they were leaving their table. He greeted them in the bar, and she introduced him to Dino Bacchetti.
“Hello, Mr. Rattle,” Stone said, shaking his hand. “Good to see you again.”
“It’s Ian, please. Millie, may I have a word?”
“Of course.”
“Stone, Ian can drop me back at the hotel, after I pick up a package in Mount Street. I wish you a happy flight back to Reykjavik tomorrow.” She thanked him for lunch, and they left.
“What’s up?” she asked Ian.
“Things are moving very fast.” He brought her up to date.
“I don’t think it’s necessary for me to be at Northolt to meet the team. I have a room at the Connaught for Quentin Phillips,” she said, “so you can bring him there after you’ve quartered the team at Hyde Park Barracks.”
“Very good. I’ll send a car for him at seven AM tomorrow.”
Lev Epstein arrived at his office shortly after seven to find a technician from the monitoring team waiting for him.
“Sir, I’ve already called Phillips about this, but I think you should know that, shortly before dawn this morning, we observed Ali Mahmoud leaving his apartment in his car. We weren’t set up to film him that early, but we followed him, at some distance, to Rock Creek Park.”
“What the hell was he doing there at dawn?”
He pulled his car behind some bushes, and we positioned our people so that we could see him remove a large object from the trunk of his car.”
“What was it?”
“We watched as he took it to a clearing, along with a case. It turned out to be a drone.”
“As in a pilotless aircraft?”
“Not pilotless, sir — Mahmoud was the pilot. The drone was one of those with four propellers — they are highly maneuverable. He did some assembly, which didn’t take long, and took a monitor from the case and set that up. Shortly, he was flying the thing, and it went out of our sight line. It must have been electrically powered, because it made little or no noise.”
“But you couldn’t see where it went?”
“No, sir. Apparently it had a camera aboard, because Mahmoud watched the monitor very carefully as he manipulated the controls. The drone returned after about an hour and landed. He repacked the equipment in his car and drove back to his home, then walked to the embassy.”
“So Mahmoud is a drone hobbyist,” Epstein muttered to himself.
“Yes, sir, and he appeared to be very proficient in flying the drone. He was very assured in handling it.”
“Could the thing be used as a weapon?”
“That doesn’t seem likely. It doesn’t have the power to carry much in the way of weight — probably only a camera.”
“So he wants to spy on something?”
“Possibly.”
“Thank you,” Epstein said. “Get back to your work.”
As he settled behind his desk, Epstein had the feeling that what he had just heard was not a good thing.
Quentin Phillips arrived at work and reported to Lev. “What time are you off?”
“We should be at Andrews between ten and eleven.”
“Have you heard the report about Mahmoud’s activities this morning?”
“No. What’s happened?”
Lev told him about Mahmoud and his drone.
“But we’ve no idea where he flew the thing?”
“None.”
“You don’t suppose he’s just a drone hobbyist?”
“No, I don’t, but your tech people say that such a drone could carry no more than a camera.”
“And it was electric?”
“Yes, very quiet.”
“I’ll talk more with the team about it during our flight.”
“All right.” Lev handed him a printed form. “Draw some pounds and distribute some of them to your team. How many men are you taking?”
“Eight: four operators and four installers.”
“Keep me posted. Good luck.”
53
Millie waited for the Connaught bellman to deposit Quentin’s luggage in her old bedroom, then she flung her arms around him. “Welcome to London,” she said.
“I can see why you put my luggage in here,” Quentin said, “but I don’t really have to sleep here, do I?”
She kissed him. “You do not. I have other plans for you, beginning with dinner, which I’ve already ordered.”
“I’ve got to call Lev,” he said. “Is there a secure line?”
“The green phone is. It goes through the embassy switchboard.”
He kissed her again, then sat down at the desk, picked up the green phone, and asked to be connected to Lev Epstein.
“This is Epstein.”
“It’s Phillips.”
“Are you there?”
“I am, and the team and I talked about Moe and his drone on the way over here.”
“Any conclusions?”
“We don’t know what he plans to do with it, but we agree, it’s too light to carry a weapon or a bomb.”
“I already knew that.”
“We’re all agreed that we have to start surveilling him from the air immediately.”
“With what, an Apache helicopter hovering over Dupont Circle?”
“With a drone.”
“We don’t have any drones, you know that.”
“The CIA does. We think they’re training with them out at Camp Peary, the Farm. If they are, those things could carry a weapon, like a Hellfire missile. They’re doing it all over the Middle East right now.”
“Let me understand: You want to position a drone over Washington, D.C., armed with a Hellfire missile? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“No, no! We just want to use it for surveillance. When Moe flies his drone again, we can see where it goes, then maybe figure out what he plans to do with it. We need an eye in the sky.”