Authors: Anthony Horowitz
Tags: #Europe, #Law & Crime, #Family, #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Orphans & Foster Homes, #General, #People & Places, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Terrorism, #Fiction, #Orphans, #Spies, #Middle East
Scorpia Rising (17 page)
“Alex, no!” Jack whispered.
Alex avoided her eye. “What job?” he asked a second time.
“It’s just a question of being in the right place and keeping your eyes open for us. All we want you to do is report back and we’ll do the rest.” Blunt paused, waiting for any argument, and when none came, he went on. “The place is a school . . . a very good school, as it happens, so you won’t even need to miss any of your studies. It’s called the Cairo International College of Arts and Education, but the students just refer to it as CC—or Cairo College. It’s for boys and girls aged thirteen to eighteen, although there’s a junior school too. Many of the parents there are working in the Middle East. Some of them are high profile. Some of them are very rich.
“We have received information that suggests some sort of hostile activity could take place there sometime soon. Unfortunately, we don’t know when and we have no idea what exactly it might entail. A kidnapping might be a possibility. Some of these parents could afford millions of dollars as a ransom, if it were demanded.”
“Have you warned the school?” Jack asked.
“We’re not sure that a warning would do any good,” Blunt replied. “Not until we know more. However, we do have one line of investigation. Last week, the school appointed a new head of security, a man by the name of Erik Gunter. It seems very unlikely that he would be involved in anything illegal. As a matter of fact, he’s a war hero. He was decorated by the queen. But at the same time, we can’t believe that his arrival is just a coincidence.”
“What happened to the last head of security?” Alex asked.
Blunt swallowed. “He had an accident. All we’re asking you to do, Alex, is to keep an eye on this man and report anything suspicious back to us. There’s no need for you to get involved. At the first sign of any trouble, we’ll step in.”
“Wait a minute!” Jack exclaimed. “I can’t believe you people! We asked you to come here because someone just took a shot at Alex. His best friend was almost killed! But all you want is to use him again.”
“We want to protect him,” Mrs. Jones insisted. “Honestly, Jack. I was against this myself at first, but it does seem to be the best solution. Nobody would think of looking for him in Cairo. We’ll give him a false name. And the best thing about an international school is that the students come and go. The parents are always on the move. Nobody will ask any questions when a new face shows up. Meanwhile, we’ll investigate the car, the helicopter, everything. We’ll let you know as soon as it’s safe for Alex to come home. It shouldn’t be more than a few weeks.”
She fell silent. Blunt was looking straight at Alex, waiting for him to reply. Jack shook her head, clearly unhappy. Alex realized it was all up to him. At the same time he wondered if he really had any choice. Only that morning, he had been celebrating the fact that his life had returned to normal. Out of the tunnel—that was what he had thought. How could he have been so naïve? The tunnel had reached out to draw him back in and once again he was lost in its darkness.
“I don’t mind going,” he said. “Mr. Blunt is right. If there’s someone after me, I can’t stay here. I can’t risk anyone else getting hurt because of me.”
“I could take you to America. We could go anywhere in the world!”
“I need to be at school somewhere, Jack. I don’t want to get any further behind.”
“Then we’re agreed?” Blunt said.
“Actually, I have a few questions,” Jack cut in. “Where is Alex going to live in Cairo? Who’s going to look after him? Is this international college a boarding school?”
“No.” Mrs. Jones shook her head. “We’ll have to find him an apartment.”
“Then make sure it has two bedrooms, because I’m going too!” Alex turned to Jack in surprise. He could tell from the tone of her voice that there were going to be no arguments. “I’m fed up sitting at home while you put Alex in harm’s way,” Jack went on. “I know you’ve said he won’t be in any danger—but that’s what you said last time, and the time before. Well, if Alex agrees to go, that’s his decision. But I’m not going to let him go alone. That’s mine. Both of us or not at all. Your call, Mrs. Jones.”
Mrs. Jones thought for a moment, then nodded. “I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “Alex?”
Alex was still gazing at Jack. “Are you really sure?” he asked.
“I’ve never been more certain about anything.”
“That’s great.” Alex smiled. “We can see the pyramids together. And the Nile. And it’ll be fun to have you with me.”
“You can leave all the arrangements to us,” Blunt said. “I’ll alert our Cairo office that you’re on your way. They’ll give you everything you need.”
“Then it seems we’re all agreed,” Jack said.
She got up and led Alan Blunt and Mrs. Jones to the door. Their car was waiting for them, parked outside. Meanwhile, Alex sat on his own, his head in a whirl. Cairo! Part of him was excited. He couldn’t help himself. It was an amazing city, somewhere he had never been before. And yet at the same time, he felt a great weight on his shoulders. It was all happening again.
Jack came back in. “They’ve gone,” she said.
“Thanks, Jack.” Alex got up. “Thanks for saying you’d come with me.”
“I wasn’t going to let it happen any other way.” Just for a moment, Jack remembered that she had been planning to tell Alex her plans this very evening. Had she really been thinking of abandoning him, of moving on? Well, her parents and Washington would have to wait. “I guess they’ll have to give me a new ID too,” she said. “I wonder what I’ll look like with a fake mustache.” She sighed. “Are you going to do your homework?”
“I don’t think there’s any point.”
“Then why don’t I make us some supper? And you see what’s on TV . . .”
Alan Blunt was in a better mood as they headed back toward Liverpool Street. Mrs. Jones had noticed the difference. “So you got what you wanted,” she said.
“Yes.” Blunt avoided her eye. “It’s funny how things work out sometimes.”
“I think you forgot to mention that Scorpia might be involved.”
“I didn’t forget. I preferred not to alarm him.”
“He might have decided not to go.”
“I would have said, all in all, that it’s better for him to keep an open mind.”
They drove on in silence.
“I want him to have backup in Cairo,” Mrs. Jones announced suddenly.
“Who do you have in mind?” Blunt knew that there was a time when his deputy would never have spoken to him so directly. But he would soon be gone. Power was already transferring itself to her. “We could send Crawley, perhaps. Or Gerrard . . .”
“I was thinking of Smithers.”
“An interesting choice.”
“Alex trusts him. And he may come in useful, particularly if Scorpia does show up. Do you have any objection?”
“Of course not, Mrs. Jones. Whatever you think best.”
The strange thing was that Blunt had been right all along. He never should have left Liverpool Street and he certainly shouldn’t have visited Alex at home.
He and Mrs. Jones had been filmed getting out of the car from the window of the house opposite. The owners of the house were on vacation in Thailand, and although they should have returned by now, they had both fallen ill with food poisoning and were being treated in a hospital in Bangkok. Scorpia had arranged this, just as they had arranged for one of their teams to break into the house and set up their cameras on the second floor.
Alex’s home had also been bugged. Two men dressed as telephone engineers had slipped in while Jack was out at the shops and placed recording devices in the kitchen, the living room, both bedrooms, and even dotted around the garden. The entire conversation with Blunt and Mrs. Jones had been recorded.
“I want him to go to Egypt . . . I have a job that is ideally suited to you . . .”
“We’ll give him a false name . . .”
“I’ll alert our Cairo office that you’re on your way. They’ll give you everything you need.”
It had all been recorded, on film and on tape, proof that MI6 had once again employed Alex Rider and sent him to the Middle East. It would be put into the Horseman file, and over the next few days, that file would start to grow. Ariston might be dead, but his work would continue. Scorpia’s operation had begun.
10
WELCOME TO CAIRO
THE MAN FROM THE EMBASSY had introduced himself as Blakeway, but Alex wondered if that was his real name. It somehow suited him too well. He was thin, elderly, hollowed out by the sun, and very English—wearing a crumpled linen jacket, a striped tie, and a Panama hat. He had been waiting for Alex and Jack at Cairo Airport, standing next to the metal tunnel that led from the plane.
“Miss Starbright? Alex? Very good to meet you. I’ve got a car waiting for you. Do come this way.”
They set off at a leisurely pace. Blakeway didn’t look like the sort of man who ever hurried. But it was good having him with them. They were waved through passport control. They didn’t have to join the long lines or buy twenty-dollar entry visas from the banking kiosks. Blakeway stood with them until their luggage arrived on the carousel, then carried Jack’s cases for her, leading them through the crowds of taxi drivers and tour operators clamoring on the other side of the arrivals gate.
The heat hit Alex full in the face. As they passed through the sliding doors, leaving the terminal behind them, it was almost like stepping into a furnace. Within seconds his clothes were sticking to him and he felt his case dragging him down. Meanwhile, Blakeway was looking around the concourse.
“Where’s Ahmed? I told him I’d be only a few minutes. Ah! There he is!”
He waved at an official-looking black sedan that drew up in front of him, and a small, round-faced man in a white shirt and dark pants leapt out and began to busy himself with the luggage.
“That’s better. You two can hop in the back. The car’s got air-conditioning, thank goodness. It shouldn’t take us too long to get across Cairo—apart from the blasted traffic.”
A minute later they were on their way. The car was cool inside and the seats were soft and comfortable, but Alex couldn’t relax. He was worn out from the long journey and although he desperately wanted to fall asleep, he knew it wasn’t going to happen. London didn’t just seem a six-hour flight away. It was another world, and part of him wondered when he would see it again. What a fool he had been to think that MI6 would ever leave him alone. Perhaps it had been the same for his uncle, Ian Rider—and for his parents. They had all discovered the same thing. In the end, there was no way out.
Sitting next to him, with her head resting against the window, Jack Starbright seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. She was wearing large sunglasses that covered most of her face, along with a floppy white hat, but he could tell that she was concerned about him. She suddenly reached across and put a hand on his arm.
“We don’t have to stay,” she said quietly, so that Blakeway wouldn’t hear.
“I know.”
“I noticed a flight to New York leaving in three hours. We could be on it.”
“We’re here now, Jack. We might as well see what it’s like.”
Was it even true? Alex wondered what would happen if he asked the car to turn around, if he tried to get back on a plane. Would MI6 let him leave Cairo? Alan Blunt wanted him here and that was where he was. There would be no departure until the job had been done.
“All right in the back?” Blakeway asked. He might have overheard them talking after all. “We’ve got some water here if you need it. Just shout . . .”
He had said the traffic would be bad and he hadn’t been exaggerating. It was horrendous. They had joined a six-lane motorway, but there still wasn’t enough room for the thousands of cars jammed together, the drivers beeping at each other furiously as if it would make any difference at all. Alex stared out the window. It seemed to him that they had driven into a nightmare of steel and concrete, of sand and dust. Old-fashioned office blocks stood next to crumbling houses. Here and there, slender towers rose over the domes of mosques, but they were hemmed in by radio masts, electricity pylons, and cranes, tons and tons of ironwork fighting for control of the sky. Alex’s first impression was that Cairo was a very ugly city. It certainly wasn’t somewhere he would have chosen to live.
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