Hot Pursuit

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.”

Millie tapped him on the shoulder. “I can get it for you, and without the red tape.”

“Did I just hear the voice of Ms. Martindale?” Lev asked.

“She says she can get us the drone without the red tape.”

“Then tell her to do it! I’m out of this! But don’t you arm that thing without my permission!” He hung up.

“Okay,” Quentin said. “Get me a drone.”

“For surveillance?”

Quentin thought about that. “Multipurpose,” he said. “I want something that can hang up there for days, and that can be armed if necessary.”

“Explain.”

He told her about Moe’s drone flying.

Millie kicked him out of the chair, sat down at the desk, picked up the green phone, and dialed Holly’s number.

“Hey,” Holly said.

“Where are you?”

“Berlin. We just got in from a big dinner. We’re off to Rome tomorrow morning.”

“Quentin Phillips just arrived with his team, and there’s news from D.C.” She told her about Moe’s drone and what Quentin wanted. “The FBI doesn’t have any drones, or at least, any suitable ones, but the Agency does, apparently out at Camp Peary. It’s going to take the president to order it.”

“What, exactly, does he want?”

“A drone with a camera that can hover for long periods of surveillance and that can be armed later, if it becomes necessary.”

“That sounds like two drones to me,” Holly said.

“Okay, two drones — one in the air, one on call.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Holly said.

Holly hung up as the doorbell rang. “That will be dinner,” Millie said. She opened the door and admitted a waiter with a tray table. When he had gone, she said, “Holly will get back to us.”

“Can she really get the president to make that call?”

“If anybody can, it’s Holly. Now eat.”

They were on dessert when the phone rang, and Millie ran for it. “Hello?”

“Tell Quentin to call Lance Cabot at the following number.”

Millie wrote it down. “Got it.” But Holly had already hung up.

“Okay,” she said to Quentin. “Call Lance Cabot, at this number.” She handed him the pad and gave him the desk chair. “Put him on speaker.”

Quentin sat down and asked for the number.

It rang once, then: “Lance Cabot.”

“Director Cabot, this is Special Agent Quentin Phillips, FBI.”

“Hello, Quentin. I hear you want to borrow my air force.”

“Only two drones, sir.”

“That is agreeable. I’ve already given the order to our people at Camp Peary. We’re doing this under the condition that only our people operate them. We’re not turning them over to you. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“The code name for the first drone is ‘Stalker,’ which will be your surveillance craft. Where do you want it?”

“The Dahai government maintains an apartment building for diplomats off Dupont Circle.”

“We know that place. We’ll station Stalker at two thousand feet, circling the building. The lenses aboard will bring you in close enough to read the warning label on a pack of cigarettes. My people will give you radio frequencies and phone numbers you can use to request changes in station or to follow a person or vehicle. The video signal will be broadcast from a satellite.”

“May we view the images in both Washington and London? I’m in London now.”

“It requires a relay, but the short answer is yes.”

“What about the second drone?”

“That is code-named ‘Condor.’ It can be armed with a Gatling gun and/or a Hellfire missile.”

“Both, please.”

“And it will not leave the ground or fire without a presidential order — that’s the president on the phone with me — do you understand?”

“I understand, sir.”

“I will now give the order to position Stalker over the embassy apartment building and to establish radio and phone contact with your people in the basement of the Hoover Building.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank me when it’s over — if it works.” Lance hung up.

“We’re in business,” Quentin said.

Millie took him by an ear. “Business later, sex now.” She led him to the bedroom.