Page 52 of Belgian Betrayal

“Just got an IP address from the Trojan I added to the disk,” Lucie said. “Searching for that IP address now.”

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and she clicked the mouse several times before she paused, her eyes narrowing. “The IP address is in London. I’m trying to locate the name of the owner or renter.”

She clicked more keys and sat back. “I have the name Casandra Miles as the owner of that IP address. The street address is in London. A flat a couple blocks off the Thames close to 10 Downing Street.” She glanced up at Fearghas.

“The Prime Minister has an office at 10 Downing Street,” Fearghas said. “Everyone knows that. But having a flat nearby doesn’t mean the Prime Minister has the disk.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Ace said. “Who is Cassandra Miles?”

More keyboard clicking commenced. Moments later, Lucie’s fingers stilled. “Cassandra Miles appears in a number of magazines and London tabloids.”

“That Cassandra Miles?” Fearghas shook his head.

Catya turned to him. “You know her?”

“Not personally. Lucie’s right, though. Cassandra Miles is a notorious London socialite who frequents formal state and royal gatherings,” Fearghas said. “Her name and face are in the tabloids often with her latest male escort, usually a Cabinet minister.”

Lucie brought up an image of a striking woman with bleached-blond hair, wearing a designer formal dress and dripping in diamonds and gemstones. “Here she is attending a state dinner at the palace with the Prime Minister, the King and the Queen Consort.”

Despite being in the company of royals, the woman took center stage in the group, her makeup flawless and her lipstick a bright red slash across her beautiful face.

Catya couldn’t tell exactly how old the woman was. She could be anywhere between her late thirties and fifty with her flawless skin and lack of wrinkles.

Lucie switched to another photograph. “Here’s another picture of her printed in The Sun.”

Cassandra Miles stood in the middle of a group of men, all wearing tuxedos. She wore a shimmering silver dress that hugged her body from her breasts down to her thighs before it flared out at her feet.

“She likes an audience,” Fearghas said.

“Who are the people with her in the photograph?” Jasmine asked.

Fearghas leaned closer. “You’ll recognize the Prime Minister, Kenneth Needham, on her left.” He pointed to the man on Cassandra’s right. “The Deputy Prime Minister, Reginald Blackhurst, is on her right.” His brow wrinkled. “I’m not sure of the guy to the Deputy’s far right. He looks familiar.”

“And he should…” Lucie opened a new screen on her computer and moved the display to one of the monitors. “That’s Lord Jonathan Stanhope, one of the richest men in Europe.”

“The same Stanhope who owns the tabloids, most of the shipping industry in Europe and has connections across the globe?” Catya asked.

Lucie nodded. “Looks like it.”

“Why would Ms. Miles move in those circles?” Jasmine shook her head. “What does she hope to gain?”

“Everything,” Fearghas said. “She inherited money from her late husband. If she gets on the right side of Stanhope, she stands to increase her investments exponentially.”

“I knew there was a good reason for us to have you on the team,” Ace said. “Besides getting us out of a compound in Greece, you know the British pecking order.”

“I don’t know about that,” Fearghas said. “I’ve been away awhile. Things can change quickly on the political front.”

“We’ll have Dmytro work with our other computer guy back in Montana to see if they can dig up any dirt on Miles and Stanhope,” Ace said.

“Have them look at all the people she’s been seen with recently,” Fearghas said, “and if she has any connections with anyone in MI6.”

Catya’s hands curled into fists. “Don’t underestimate her just because she’s female. If she is the one who sent people out to kill Gia Rosolino and my parents, just to get that disk, she’s dangerous and has an army of killers at her disposal.”

“Which brings us back to the question of why she would want the disk…” Ace said.

“And why MI6 sent me and Atkins in to kill Gia.” Catya frowned. “Does the Miles woman have a mole in MI6? Or was someone in MI6 trying to get that information back to keep from exposing people doing bad things in high places? Perhaps Cassandra Miles got to it first.”

“Maybe she made a grab for the disk to use it as leverage to get what she wants from the people determined to get it back,” Fearghas said.

---