Mr.Churchill's Secretary(89)

TWENTY-EIGHT





MAGGIE HAD A plan.

“You want to do what?” John was pacing back and forth in the Cabinet Room while Maggie sat on one of the carved mahogany chairs, Nelson purring contentedly on her lap.

“The cover story goes like this,” she said. “MI-Five will transport”—it was hard to say the name, but she managed—“Claire to the detention center. The vehicle has an accident. During the ensuing chaos, she secures one of the weapons and takes me hostage. She’ll take me to McCormack. Then he’ll lead us to Devlin.”

David was trying to get the facts straight. “And when you get to Devlin—what? You ask nicely for the override key?”

“Yes,” Edmund interjected. “Please enlighten us on this point.”

“All of Devlin’s bombs in the past have had override keys,” Frain said. “That’s the way he designs them—this way, he keeps ultimate control over the bomb and it can’t be used against him. Miss Kelly will use Miss Hope as the pretext for getting inside and then will”—he cleared his throat—“ingratiate herself in order to find the key, which is always on his person. Now, about the mission—we’re going to handle this passively.”

John started. “What the hell does that mean?” Then, to Maggie, “Sorry.”

As though swearing would offend me at this point, she thought.

“It means that we’ll have undercover MI-Five in every car, in every store, in every window, in the area. We’re not sending Miss Hope there alone.”

“No, she’s going with the woman who stole her identity, killed Sarah, and tried to assassinate the Prime Minister,” John said.

Snodgrass sniffed. “Yes, and what about Miss Kelly? You think she’ll be able to play her role convincingly?”

Frain shrugged. “Well, she’s managed to live here in London for most of the past three years while part of an IRA terrorist cell and remain undetected. She fooled her employers, her colleagues, and her friends. Yes, I think we can all rest easy that she’s an expert at deception.”

Maggie looked over at John. “Right now this is our best and only chance to find Devlin, get the key, and save Saint Paul’s.”

“How do we know she’ll play along?” John asked.

Frain folded his hands. “No matter how well we fabricate this story, Miss Hope will be in extreme and immediate danger. Which is why we’ll move in at the first sign of trouble.” He looked at Maggie. “Are you absolutely sure this is something you’re willing to do?”

Edmund touched her hand. “You don’t have to, Margaret,” he said in a low voice. “Everyone will understand if you don’t.”

“It’s dangerous, to be sure,” David added.

John simply looked at her, waiting.

My decision. It’s my decision, Maggie thought. But all she could see was the lovely, graceful dome of St. Paul’s, which had already survived so much.

Nelson gazed up at her with his inscrutable green eyes.

“I’m doing it,” she said.

Everyone turned toward Frain. “Right, then. You’ll be briefed on the mission with Miss Kelly, and then both of you will head out directly. Thank you, Miss Hope.”

Edmund looked at her and gave a resigned sigh. “Well, in any case, you should have your arm taken care of before you leave.”

“I’ll do it,” John offered. Then, at David’s look, “I do know first aid.”

“Right,” David said, taking off his glasses to give them a quick polish. “Go on, then.”

“We have the first-aid kit in the office. Do you want me to bring it here?” he asked.

“I can make it,” Maggie said, trying to keep her tone light. “I think.”

When she tried to stand, it felt as though every muscle in her body seized up, every single nerve ending protested, No more. Please, no more. Nelson gave a sharp meow as he was dislodged to the floor, then concentrated on cleaning his fur.

John held out his arm without comment, and Maggie took it.

In the private secretaries’ office, John offered Maggie his desk chair. He removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, busying himself with the bandages and ointments.

“If you could, er—”

“Take off the sweater?” Maggie unbuttoned the cardigan and tried to pull it off. The dried blood had fused the cotton fibers to the wound. “Damn,” she said as the sweater came off. “Damn, damn, damn.”

John smiled in spite of everything that was happening. “Good to know you don’t mince words.”

Maggie closed her eyes against the fresh waves of pain. “I think I’m going to have a lot more to say when this is all over.”