Ian seemed speechless. “And what’s your best guess as to what they’re going to do with it?”
“There are too many things they could do with it,” Quentin replied. “The mind boggles.”
Millie came into the room. “What’s up?”
Quentin told her. “Where is the president?”
“In Rome.”
“When does she get back to Washington?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“I don’t suppose she could add another couple of cities to her tour, could she?”
“It takes weeks, maybe months, to plan that sort of thing.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Ian was taking all this in. He picked up a phone. “Get me Ten Downing Street,” he said, “the PM’s private secretary.” He waited for a while. “Sir Robert? This is Major Ian Rattle at MI6. Can you tell me, please, what is the PM’s schedule for the next few days?” He listened for a minute or so. “He looks to me as though he needs a rest. Do you think you could get him to go down to Chequers for a few days? I see. No, I’ll get back to you later today, after I speak to Dame Felicity.” He hung up and dialed an extension. “I’d like to come and see her now,” he said. “Right.” He hung up and turned to Quentin and Millie. “We’re seeing her in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes later, Dame Felicity was sitting in an armchair, waiting for them. “Please sit down,” she said, “and tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Quentin?” Ian said.
“No, you,” Quentin replied.
“Ma’am,” Ian said, “we’ve come to believe that the Kimbrough twins in London and Ali Mahmoud are assembling drones on the rooftops of their respective buildings.”
Dame Felicity thought about that for a moment. “Do you know what kind of drones?”
Ian looked uncomfortable. “Not yet. They’re doing the work under the shelter of marquees erected for the purpose.”
“Both of them? Simultaneously?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That is alarming.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Special Agent Phillips, has your surveillance picked up any phone calls or electronic messages that refer to this activity?”
“No, ma’am. I checked with my team in Washington. Mahmoud has gone all quiet, and we don’t have our taps here in yet.”
Dame Felicity picked up a phone from a table beside her. “Please video-conference me with Director Lance Cabot at the CIA and Assistant Director Lev Epstein at the FBI.” She put down the phone. “This is going to take a few minutes,” she said. “Special Agent Phillips, while we’re waiting, can you give me some idea of what we’re dealing with?”
“I’ll try, ma’am,” Quentin said. He took a deep breath and began.
57
Stone sat and stared out the airplane window at the North Atlantic far below.
“You’re not getting depressed, are you?” Dino asked.
“Not exactly. I’m just thinking about what not having an airplane means, and that’s pretty depressing.”
“So why don’t you get a new one? The process ought to cheer you up. You just told me about the CJ something or other.”
“CJ3 Plus,” Stone said.
“The one that has exactly the same avionics that your, ah, former plane had?”
“Yes.” Stone brightened, and slapped Dino on the knee. “You’re a genius,” he said.
“All I did was repeat what you told me.”
“Exactly.” Stone took out his iPhone and looked up the name of the Cessna salesman who had handled the sale of the M2. He put away the iPhone, picked up the satphone, and dialed the number.
“David Hayes.”
“Hi, David, it’s Stone Barrington.”
“Hello, Stone. What can I do for you?”
“Is the new CJ3 Plus certified yet?”
“Almost.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re waiting for final approval.”
“If I ordered one today, when would it be delivered?”
“Hang on, let me check the printouts.”
“See?” Dino said. “You’re looking happier already.”
David came back on the line. “I’ll have to double-check this with the factory, but it looks like about seven weeks. The airplane is already off the line, waiting for an interior and avionics installation. It already has a pretty high spec.”
“Read me the list of equipment.”
“Well, it’s got the Garmin 3000 panel.”
“Read me the options installed.”
“Okay, it’s got an Automatic Direction Finder, which you won’t use in the States but is good to have if you want to sell it overseas, Synthetic Vision, provision for high-frequency radios, Garmin datalink, Terrain Awareness Warning System — TAWS A, XM weather and radio, locking fuel caps, and Angle of Attack Indexer. On the interior it’s got the refreshment center with optional side-facing seat, sheepskin cockpit seats, dual satphones, Aircell high-speed Internet service — U.S. only, and the Hawthorne interior. You might still be able to change the interior fabrics at this point, and we’ll paint the airplane to your specs.”
“How much retraining would I need?”
“None. The cockpit is identical to your M2, but you’ve got seven hundred more miles of range, four hundred and twenty knots of speed, and you can go up to flight level 450.”
“Add the HD radio to the list, call the factory and get me a confirmed delivery date and a price. Same paint scheme as the M2.”
“I’ll do that.” Hayes hung up.
“You look downright cheerful now,” Dino said. “See what a satphone call can do?”
“And I wouldn’t have to retrain,” Stone said happily. He went forward to the cockpit and tapped Pat on the shoulder. “How far out are we?”
“It says here an hour and eight minutes to Presque Isle.” Stone thanked her and went back to his seat. “An hour and eight minutes,” Stone said.
Dino picked up the satphone, checked the number, and dialed. “Bob? It’s the commissioner. Where are you? Good, we’ll be in about forty minutes behind you. Listen, I think you’d better get somebody from the Maine State Police out there. We don’t want to step on any toes.” He listened. “Great, you’re thinking ahead.” He hung up. “They’re going to beat us there,” he said. “Looks like all’s right with the world.”
“Reeves and Keyes are armed, you know,” Stone pointed out.
Dino frowned. “You think they’re going to want to shoot it out with us?”
“Whataya mean, ‘us’? I’m not armed.”
“I should have asked Viv for her gun.”
“Maybe so. Listen, I think the way to do this is to let U.S. Customs go in first.”
“And let them do our dirty work?”
“It’s not that, it’s that they’re expecting customs, so they won’t be on their guard. We’re probably going to be there before Reeves lands. You can talk with them about it then.”
“Okay.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Stone asked.
“You’re supposed to stay out of the way,” Dino said. “I’ve got two detectives and the Maine State Police for backup. I think we can handle it without your help.”
“And you are welcome to do so,” Stone said, sitting back in his seat and relaxing.
The satphone rang, and Stone picked it up. “Hello?”
“It’s David Hayes. The airplane is yours, if you want it. I added the HD radio in.” He quoted a price.
Stone haggled a little, and they came to an agreement. “I’ll wire you the deposit tomorrow morning.” Stone hung up happy. “I’ll have a new CJ3 Plus in seven weeks. You want to come out to Wichita and make the first flight with me?”
“I’d rather make the second flight with you,” Dino said. “Or the fifth. Maybe you’ll know what you’re doing by then.”