Scorpia Rising (31 page)
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
Seeing them, Razim got to his feet. “Please join me. I hope you don’t mind my starting without you. I never sleep after five o’clock and I’m always rather hungry by the time it comes to breakfast. However, there’s plenty left. Do sit down.”
Jack glanced at Alex as if for advice. Alex nodded and they took their places.
Razim seemed pleased. He fussed over them, moving dishes and pouring the tea as if they were guests who had chanced to pop in rather than his prisoners. Meanwhile, Alex looked around him. It was already obvious that it would be almost impossible to escape from the fort, and yet, at the same time, he remembered what Jack had just said.
“I think I’ve found a way out . . .”
She’d been here a little longer than he had. Could she possibly have seen something that he’d missed?
“I think I’ve found a way out . . .”
She’d been here a little longer than he had. Could she possibly have seen something that he’d missed?
“Will you have some tea, Alex?” Razim held out the pot.
“Thank you.” Alex hated the fake politeness, the pretense that all this was civilized. He’d been here before. Tea in the garden with Damian Cray. Dinner with Julia Rothman. All these people had to pretend that they were human. To disguise the fact that they were anything but.
But Jack wasn’t having any of it. “What do you want with us?” she demanded. “Alex ought to be at school. You’ve got no right to bring him here.”
Razim set down the pot and helped himself to a spoonful of yogurt. “Let’s not keep up the pretense that Alex is an ordinary schoolboy, Miss Starbright,” he said. “We all know who he is and what he is. And for that matter, you really shouldn’t speak to me as if I am an ordinary man. Of course I have no right to keep you prisoners here. But I am a criminal. Why not let us be honest about it? The law means nothing to me. I do exactly what I want.”
“What
do
you want?”
do
you want?”
“You’re very direct! Please have some breakfast. You both need to eat and—particularly in this heat—to drink.”
Alex took some fruit. Jack hesitated, then did the same. A man walked past them pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with salt crystals. Whatever work went on here, it never stopped.
Razim licked his spoon clean. “That’s better,” he began. “I’m sure the two of you have a lot of questions, so let me put your minds at rest by answering at least a few of them.”
“You don’t need to tell us anything,” Alex interrupted. “I already know that you’re part of Scorpia and that you’re planning to assassinate the American secretary of state when she gives her talk in Cairo this weekend. I also know where we are. We’re close to the town of Siwa.” At least some of this was guesswork, but Alex was pleased to see a flicker of surprise behind the two circles of glass. Razim had been thrown and couldn’t conceal it. “I know this,” he went on, “and MI6 knows it too. By now they’ll have realized that Jack and I are missing and they’ll come looking for us. If you let us go now, you might have time to save yourself. But otherwise I’d say you’re pretty much finished.”
There was a long silence. Then Razim broke into a forced, unnatural laugh. “Well spoken, Alex,” he said. “My friends at Scorpia told me you were someone to be reckoned with and they were certainly right. I am willing to accept that you have managed to work out at least part of what we are planning. You have seen the rifle. It is common knowledge that the secretary of state will be here tomorrow. But it is already too late to prevent us, and I can assure you that you have no idea at all of our true aims.
“As to the arrival of MI6, which I am inclined to doubt, they may find it more difficult than you think to reach us. This fort was built more than two hundred years ago, but I have made certain modifications. We are in the middle of a minefield. There is what you might call a necklace of roadside devices, similar to those used in Afghanistan, around the compound. We can activate them the moment we come under attack . . . There’s a series of switches in the control room.” He gestured at the old bake house with its brick chimney. “You might also like to know that the towers here are equipped with radar warning and electronic warfare antennae. We have enough firepower here to blast an entire fleet of aircraft out of the sky. The Iranians kindly provided us with several of their SA2 medium-range, high-altitude surface-to-air missiles. At a price, of course. But I am a man who likes to feel safe, and were any enemy forces to show themselves—in the air or on land—I can assure you that it would be a simple matter to blow them to smithereens.”
He smiled and laid down his spoon, lining it up exactly with his plate.
“But even if by some miracle MI6 did manage to find us and break in, they would still be too late,” he continued. “I am leaving Egypt tomorrow night. I have another identity and another life waiting for me in another part of the world. And as for you, Alex . . . well, that was what I wanted to talk to you about. That’s why I invited you to join me.”
He paused. Alex glanced at Jack, willing her to stay quiet, not to endanger herself. He knew she wasn’t going to like what they were about to hear.
“I will make no secret of the fact that you have been a considerable nuisance to my colleagues in Scorpia,” he began. “Indeed, one of the things that attracted them to this operation was that you were going to be at the center of it. Speaking personally, I have no interest in revenge. And I want you to understand that I have no particular feelings about you. You seem a pleasant enough boy. But unfortunately for you, you are now completely in my power and, as it happens, I am a scientist. Recently, I have been doing a great deal of research into the subject of pain. This evening, when the sun sets, I intend to perform an experiment on you. In effect, my aim is to cause you more pain than you have ever known, more pain than you can begin to imagine.”
“You’re mad . . .,” Jack whispered.
Razim ignored her. “It’s strange, but imagining pain actually makes it worse when it finally arrives. This is something I have discovered through my research. I notice that you are clutching a fruit knife, Miss Starbright, and perhaps plan to attack me with it. I can assure you that one of my guards will shoot you down before you can even rise out of your chair.”
Jack’s hand had indeed closed around one of the knives. She was hardly breathing and her eyes were pin-pricks of fury. Alex reached out and touched her arm. She put the knife down.
“Thank you. Now, where was I? Yes. It’s a bit like entering a swimming pool. The child who imagines the cold water, who enters it one inch at a time, has a much worse experience than the child who simply runs off the diving board and jumps in. The dread that one feels before visiting the dentist is often as unpleasant as the visit itself. That is why I’m telling you this now, Alex. I want you to start thinking about what lies in store for you tonight. You see that building over there?” He pointed to what looked like a chapel on the far side of the compound. “That is where you will be taken. That is where, for you, hell is waiting.”
“You can’t do this,” Jack said. “You’re a monster! Alex is a fifteen-year-old boy!”
“It is because he is fifteen that he is so useful to me. And please don’t bore me with this stupid name-calling. I have already made it quite clear to you that Alex Rider is nothing to me. I am not like Julius, for example, who hates him very much indeed, who is indeed consumed by hatred. I have no such emotions. For me, hate is as much a waste of time as love. Alex has been a useful device in a plan that I have created for Scorpia. Tonight, he will be useful to me. That is all. I simply want the two of you to prepare.”
Razim pulled the cigarette pack toward him and opened it. There was one cigarette left. He took it out and lit it. “You have the rest of the day to yourselves,” he said. “You are free to walk in the desert . . . The salt lakes have a certain beauty, and you may like to swim. I can lend you both bathing suits. Do not take this as a sign of weakness on my part. You have no drinking water and it would be quite impossible for you to walk the ten miles to the village of Siwa in the full heat of the day. And anyway, you will be watched at all times. As you may have appreciated when you were brought here, Alex, I have reasons for not wanting to damage you. But if you stray too far from the fort, if you attempt to do anything that gives me reason to believe that you are trying to escape, I will not hesitate to put a bullet into your friend. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you completely,” Alex said. There was contempt in his voice.
“Good.” He stood up. “I have a few last-minute preparations to take care of, but please feel free to have as much breakfast as you want. Lunch will be served here as well. The guards will take you back to your cells at four o’clock—you’ll need to get as much rest as you can before your experience tonight. I hope you both enjoy what time is left to you.”
Razim got up and left. Jack waited until he had gone into the house.
“Oh, Alex . . .,” she began. The words came out almost as a sob.
“Let’s not talk here,” Alex said. “We might be overheard.” He looked briefly at the archway and the open door that led out of the compound. It was still hard to believe that Razim was just letting them walk out. But then again, they were in the middle of the Sahara—a perfect prison even if it didn’t have any walls. “He said we could go for a swim, so let’s do that. No one will be able to hear us in the middle of a lake.”
In the end, they didn’t swim. Two of the guards had followed them and stood watching, twenty paces away. Instead, they walked along the shoreline of one of the extraordinary lakes that had somehow sprung up in the middle of the desert, with so much salt in the water that strange crystal formations were spreading out across the sand. The fort was about a quarter of a mile away and reminded Alex of something he might have built when he was six or seven years old.
They had both heard what Razim had said. Neither of them knew quite what to say. Alex knew that Razim had done this on purpose. He might pretend to be a scientist. He might claim to have no feelings. But deep down, he was getting some foul pleasure from their pain.
It was Jack who broke the silence. “What a bastard! What a little jerk! I won’t let him hurt you, Alex. I swear to God . . .” Suddenly there were tears in her eyes and this time she didn’t try to wipe them away. “I never had any idea,” she went on. “When you went away on all those adventures, I knew it was bad, but I never thought it was like this. How could we have let this happen to you all this time? And your uncle actually wanted you to be a spy? They’re all as bad as each other . . . Alan Blunt, Mrs. Jones . . . even Mr. Smithers.They should never have allowed it to happen.”
Alex put an arm around her. “Don’t worry, Jack,” he said. “I’ll get away.” He forced a smile. “I always do.”
Jack nodded and used the backs of her hands to wipe her eyes. “If we could steal one of the cars . . .”
“I can’t drive,” Alex reminded her.
“No. But I can.” Her face brightened a little. “There is just one thing, Alex.” She looked around, checking that the guards were far enough away. “Before you arrived, I was alone in my cell for a time, and there was something I noticed. The walls are brick, but the cement is some sort of mixture of salt and mud. And one of the bars of my window is a little loose.”
“Can you get it out?”
“I might be able to. Look!” Carefully, she lifted her shirt to show Alex that there was a knife tucked into her waistband. “I stole it at the end of breakfast, after that creep had left. I can use it to cut into the brick. It’s very soft. And if I can get the bar out, I can squeeze through.”
“And then?” Alex felt the first stirrings of hope.
“Somehow I get you out of your cell and off we go. When they flew me here, we passed over Siwa. I actually saw it, and it can’t be more than about ten minutes away by car. If we can get there and raise the alarm . . . We just have to make one phone call. And that’ll be the end of Ratface—or whatever he calls himself. He won’t have time to come after us. He’ll have to get out fast.”
“What about the car keys?” Alex asked.
“I noticed that too. They leave them in the cars.” Jack smiled. “You see—they’re not as smart as they think they are.”
Alex thought about what Jack had just said. Everything made sense, and yet at the same time, something worried him. Three basic errors. The crumbling metal, the car keys, the knife that had gone missing without anyone noticing. It seemed almost too good to be true. On the other hand, Jack could be right. Razim thought he had all the odds on his side. That could be making him careless.
“All right,” Alex said. “But listen to me, Jack. If you get a chance to leave without me, that’s what you have to do.”
“I’d never leave you behind,” Jack said.
“You might have to. If it’s a choice between one of us or neither of us, you’re going to have to go.” He reached out and held her hand. “And please watch out for yourself, Jack. I’ve met people like these before, and I’m telling you, they know what they’re doing. This is Scorpia we’re talking about.”
“You’ve beaten them twice,” Jack reminded him.
Alex nodded. “Let’s hope it’s third time lucky.”
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