with two lethal-looking weapons: not quite swords, not quite daggers, but something in between. Alex remembered how Dr Liebermann had died and knew that Nile was an expert at iaido, the ninja art of sword fighting. He could slice with the swords or he could throw them. Either way, he was lightning fast—Alex knew he could deliver death in an instant.
There was nothing he could do but stand and watch. He had no gadgets, no hidden weapons. Mrs Rothman might have bought the story of his capture and escape, but her eyes were still on him. In truth they had never wavered. She was still suspicious. If he so much as sneezed without her permission, she would give the order and he would be cut down.
How long had it been since he had activated the homing device? Sixty seconds? Maybe more. Alex felt the wire running across his teeth and tried to imagine the signal being transmitted to MI6. How long would it take them to arrive?
Mrs Rothman stepped closer and laid a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers caressed the side of his neck. She ran her tongue, small and moist, over her lips.
“Let me explain to you what we’re doing here, Alex,” she began. “As a member of Scorpia, I’m sure you’d like to know.”
“Are you going for a balloon ride?” Alex asked.
“No. I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled. “Two days ago we made certain demands. These demands were directed against the American government but we made it clear that if they did not obey, it would be the British who would suffer the consequences. The deadline runs out”—she looked at her watch—“in less than fifteen minutes. The Americans have not done as we asked. And now it is time for the punishment to begin.”
“What are you going to do?” Alex asked. He couldn’t keep the horror out of his voice because, of course, he already knew.
“In a few minutes the balloon will be completely inflated and we will raise it above this church. The ropes will keep it tethered at exactly one hundred metres, and when it reaches that point, the machinery which you can see on the platform will activate immediately. High frequency terahertz beams will then be transmitted over London for exactly two minutes and, at that moment, I’m afraid a very large number of people will die.”
“Why?” Alex could barely speak. “What did you ask the Americans? What did you want them to do?”
“As a matter of fact, we didn’t want them to do anything. The demands we made were completely ridiculous.
We asked them to disarm; we told them to pay a billion dollars. We knew they’d never agree.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because what our client really wants is revenge. Revenge for the constant interference and bullying of the British and the Americans in matters that don’t concern them. What he wants is to ensure that the special friendship between the two countries is destroyed for ever. And this is how it’s going to happen.
“I’m afraid that a great many people are about to die in London. The deaths will be sudden and totally unexpected. It’ll be as if they’ve been struck down by an invisible sword. The whole country will be in shock.
And then the news will come out: they died because the Americans wouldn’t agree to our demands. They died because the Americans refused to help the ally who always stands by them. Can you imagine what the newspapers will say? Can you imagine what people will think? By tomorrow morning the British will hate the Americans.
“And then, Alex, in a few months, Invisible Sword will strike again—but next time it will be in New York. And next time our demands will be more reasonable. We’ll ask for less and the Americans will give us what we want, because they will have seen what happened in London and they won’t want it to happen again. They’ll have no choice. And that will be the end of the British-American alliance. Don’t you see? The Americans couldn’t care less about the British. They’ve only ever been concerned about themselves. That’s what everyone will say, and you have no idea how much hatred will be created. One country humiliated; the other crushed.
And Scorpia will have earned a hundred million pounds along the way.” She paused, as if waiting for him to congratulate her. Alex was meant to be a member of her organization, the newest recruit. His father would have been glad to stand at her side. But Alex couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t find it in himself. He couldn’t even pretend.
“You can’t do it!” he whispered. “You can’t kill children just to get rich.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he knew he had made a mistake. Julia Rothman’s reaction was as fast as a snake … as fast as a scorpion. One moment, that soft, casual smile had been on her lips; the next, she was rigid, alert, her whole consciousness focused on Alex.
Nile looked over, sensing something was wrong. Alex waited for the axe to fall. And then it came.
“Children?” Mrs Rothman murmured. “I never said anything about children.”
“But there will be children.” Alex tried frantically to backtrack. “Adults and children.”
“No, Alex.” Mrs Rothman seemed almost amused. “You know that children are the targets. I never told you that; so somebody else must have.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
She was examining him minutely. Closing in on him. And suddenly she saw it. “I thought there was something different about you,” she snapped. “What’s that you’ve got on your teeth?” It was too late to hide it. Alex opened his mouth. “I wear a brace.”
“You weren’t wearing a brace in Positano.”
“I didn’t have it in.”
“Take it out.”
“It doesn’t come out.”
“It will—with a hammer.” Alex had no choice. He reached into his mouth and took out the piece of plastic. Nile moved closer, his eyes full of curiosity. “Let me see it, Alex.” Like a naughty boy caught eating gum, Alex held out his hand. The brace was resting in his palm. And it was obvious it was no ordinary brace. They could see some of the circuitry leading to the switch he had activated.
