found himself wondering how he had got himself into this. Had it really all begun with a doctor ordering him two weeks’ R & R?
“And now I must tell you about Force Three,” Drevin said.
“You don’t need to,” Alex replied. He had worked this part out for himself. “You need someone to take the blame. Force Three don’t exist. You invented them.”
“Exactly.” Drevin waved his glass at the four men standing near by. “I consider Force Three to be the most brilliant aspect of the entire operation. Obviously, if Ark Angel is sabotaged, if it falls on the Pentagon, I will be the main suspect. So I had to create a scapegoat. I had to make sure that I was above suspicion.
“I created Force Three. I hired the men you see here now. Under my instructions, they committed several acts of terrorism that seemed to be directed against capitalist concerns. They blew up a car manufacturing plant in Dakota, a factory in Japan, a GM research centre in New Zealand. I also paid a journalist working in Berlin and a lecturer in London to speak out against Force Three, to warn the world about them. I then promptly had them murdered. Do you see? I was creating the illusion of a ruthless group of eco-warriors who hated anyone involved in big business—and who particularly hated me.”
“You kidnapped your own son!” Alex exclaimed. At last the events at the hospital and Hornchurch Towers were beginning to make sense.
“I told you. I had to be seen to be above suspicion. The world had to believe that Force Three were my enemy. What sort of father would allow his own son to be kidnapped just days after an operation—”
“But they got it wrong,” Alex interrupted. “They took me instead of him.” He thought back to the time when he had been held prisoner and his head swam. “They were going to cut off Paul’s finger! Did you really order them to do that?”
“Of course.” For the first time, Drevin looked troubled. Alex could see him struggling with his emotions, forcing them down. “The threat had to be credible. If Paul had been maimed, nobody would have suspected that I had anything to do with it. And when Force Three attacked me here on Flamingo Bay, I would be the victim.”
“But that’s monstrous!” Alex protested. “He’s your son!”
“Maybe a little pain would have toughened him up,” Drevin retorted. “The boy is too soft. And one day he is going to inherit billions. The whole world will be his. Is one little finger too much to ask in return?”
“It must be great having you as a dad!” Alex sneered.
“You will die very painfully if you continue to speak to me in that way!” Drevin finished his brandy. He was suddenly flushed and out of breath. “The only mistake I made was not providing Kaspar with a photograph of Paul. We knew his room number; we knew there would be no security at the hospital. How could we know that another boy—you—would decide to get involved?”
“Is that why you tried to kill me in the fire?” Alex asked.
“No.” Drevin shook his head. “We needed you alive. That was the whole point. Paul had been saved from his ordeal but we still needed someone to tell the world that it was Force Three behind the kidnap attempt.
Killing you would have been no use to us at all. You were meant to escape. There was a chair in the room so that you could climb up through the ceiling and over the wall into the corridor. The fire was deliberately started away from the stairwell so that you could get out of the building.”
“But one of your people was waiting for me with a gun.” Alex looked at the man he knew only as Combat Jacket. This was the man who had shot the night receptionist at the hospital. He was gazing at Alex with watery eyes that were too small and too close to his broken nose.
Drevin was obviously hearing this for the first time. “Is this true?” he asked.
“He’s lying,” Combat Jacket said. It was the first time he had spoken. “I let him go like you said. I never went near him.”
Alex understood. He’d humiliated Combat Jacket. And the man had disobeyed orders to get his revenge.
He was the one who was lying. It was obvious to everyone there; they could hear it in his voice.
Drevin shrugged. “It makes no difference,” he said, and Combat Jacket relaxed. “You may be wondering why Force Three have come to the island, Alex. It’s because I have one last use for them. The launch is timed for nine o’clock tomorrow morning. The bomb will go off at half past four in the afternoon. And as Ark Angel comes crashing down on Washington, a fight will break out here on Flamingo Bay. Intruders will have been discovered. My men will shoot to kill. And when the authorities come calling and the investigation begins, I will be able to give them the final proof that Force Three were responsible. You have described the men who kidnapped you, Alex. Tomorrow their bullet-ridden bodies will be on display.” Now it was Silver Tooth who spoke. Spectacles and Steel Watch were also looking uneasy. “How are you going to fake that?” he asked.
Drevin smiled. “Who said I was going to fake it?”
The chatter of gunfire was so loud and so close that Alex nearly toppled over in the chair. The four fake terrorists didn’t stand a chance. They were dead before they could react, blown off their feet onto the cold concrete floor. Alex twisted round. Magnus Payne was holding one of the Mini Uzis. There was a dreadful smile on his face. A cloud of smoke hovered around his hands.
“You’re insane!” Alex spat out the words without knowing what he was saying. “You’re never going to get away with it! They’ll know it was you…”
“They may well suspect it was me, but it’s going to be almost impossible to prove,” Drevin retorted. “I’m afraid I’m the victim in all this.”
“But what about me? What about Tamara? If you kill us, the CIA will come after you!”
“The CIA are already after me. What difference will another couple of bodies make? I’m afraid you and Miss Knight wilt be found on the beach. Accidentally caught in the crossfire. A terrible shame. But not my fault.”
“And what about Kaspar?” Why had Alex thought of him? He was the one piece missing from this crazy jigsaw. If Force Three had been working for Drevin all along, then so had Kaspar. But where was he?
“Show him,” Drevin ordered.
Magnus Payne put down the sub-machine gun. He reached up and took hold of his ginger hair. A wig. He pulled it off, then ripped at his skin. Alex should have recognized the latex. He had recently worn a similar disguise himself. He watched in dismay as the head of security seemed to tear his own face apart and the dreadful tattoos appeared
