“Not quite yet.” Mrs Rothman thought for a moment and Alex could see she was coming to a decision. “We’re just at the critical point in a certain operation,” she revealed. “It might interest you to see the climax; it’s going to be quite spectacular. What do you think?”
Alex shrugged. He mustn’t look too keen. “I don’t mind,” he said.
“You met Dr Liebermann; you were there at Consanto when dear Nile dealt with him. It seems only right that you should see the fruits of his handiwork.” She smiled again. “I’d like to have you with me, at the end.” So you can watch me die, Alex thought. “I’d like to be there,” he replied.
Then her eyes narrowed and the smile seemed to freeze. “But I’m afraid we’re going to have to search you,” she said. “I do trust you, of course. But as you’ll learn when you’ve been with Scorpia for a while, we don’t leave anything to chance. You were taken prisoner by MI6. It’s always possible that you were somehow contaminated without knowing it. So before we leave here, I want you to go into the bathroom with Nile. He’ll give you a thorough examination. And we’ve got you a complete change of clothes. Everything has to come off, Alex. It’s all a bit embarrassing, I know, but I’m sure you’ll understand.”
“I’ve nothing to hide,” Alex said, but he couldn’t help running his tongue over the brace. He was certain she’d see it.
“Of course you haven’t. I’m just being overcautious.”
“Let’s do it.” Nile jerked a thumb in the direction of the bathroom. He seemed amused by the whole idea.
Twenty minutes later Alex and Nile came downstairs. Alex was now dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a round-necked jersey. Nile had brought the clothes with him, along with fresh socks, trainers and pants. Mrs Jones had been right. If he’d had so much as a penny on him, Nile would have found it. Alex had been thoroughly searched.
But Nile hadn’t noticed the brace. Alex’s mouth was the one place he hadn’t looked.
“Well?” Mrs Rothman asked. She was in a hurry to leave.
“He’s clean,” Nile answered.
“Good. Then we can go.”
There was a grandfather clock in the hall, standing in the corner on the black and white tiled floor. As Alex moved towards the front door, it struck the hour. Two o’clock.
“Is that the time already?” Mrs Rothman said. She reached out and stroked Alex’s cheek. “You have just two hours left, Alex.”
“Two hours until what?” he asked.
“In two hours’ time you’ll know everything.”
She opened the door.
There was a car waiting for them outside. It took them across London, heading south. They drove round the Aldwych and over Waterloo Bridge, and for a moment Alex gazed out over one of the most startling views of the capital: the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, with the Millennium Wheel on the opposite bank. What would it look like two hours from now? Alex tried to imagine the ambulances and police cars screaming across London, the crowds staring in disbelief, the undersized bodies strewn over the pavements. It would be like another world war— but without a single shot being fired.
And then they were on the south bank of the river, making their way through Waterloo, heading east. The buildings they passed became older and dustier. It was as if they had travelled not just a few miles but a few hundred years. Alex sat in the back, next to Nile. Mrs Rothman was in the front with a blank-faced driver.
Nobody spoke. It was warm inside the car—the sun was shining—but Alex could feel a tension that made the air cold. He was certain they were heading for some high point where Invisible Sword must be concealed, but he had no idea what to expect. An office block? Perhaps a building under construction? He stared out of the window, his head pressed against the glass, trying to stay calm.
They stopped.
The car had pulled up on a strange, empty stretch of road that ran for about fifteen metres before coming to a dead end. Mrs Rothman and Nile climbed out of the car and Alex followed, examining his surroundings with a sinking heart. It looked as if they hadn’t taken him to the dishes after all. There were no tall buildings in sight, not for at least a mile around. The street—almost as wide as it was long—ran between two rows of dilapidated shops, the lower floors boarded up, the windows broken and discoloured. The street itself was covered with rubbish: scraps of newspaper, dented cans and old crisp packets.
But it was the building at the end that commanded his attention. The street led to a church that would have been more suited to Rome or Venice than London. It had obviously been abandoned long ago and had deteriorated badly, yet still it struggled to be magnificent. Two huge, cracked pillars supported a triangular roof over the main entrance. Marble steps led up to huge doors made of solid bronze, but green now rather than gold. The great bulk of the church rose up behind, surmounted by a dome which glinted in the afternoon sun. Statues lined the steps and stood dotted across the roof. But they had been brutalized by time and the elements. Some were missing arms; many had no faces. Once they had been saints and angels. Two hundred years standing in London had turned them into cripples.
“Why are we here?” Alex asked.
Mrs Rothman was standing next to him, looking up at the church. “I thought you’d like to witness the conclusion of Invisible Sword.”
“I don’t know anything about Invisible Sword.” Without giving himself away, Alex was searching for any sign of the satellite dishes. But there didn’t seem to be anything on the dome and, anyway, as impressive as it was, it wasn’t tall enough. The dishes had to be higher up. “What is this place?” Mrs Rothman looked at him curiously. “You know, Alex, I’d swear there was something different about you.” Alex quietly closed his mouth, hiding the brace. He looked at her quizzically.
“Nile? Did you search him from top to bottom?”
“Yes. Just like you told me to.”
“I would’ve thought you’d have trusted me by now,” Alex protested, but this time he looked away so she wouldn’t see his teeth. “I did exactly what you told me to. And I nearly got killed.”
“I don’t
