Had he pressed it in time? “Drop it!” Mrs Rothman commanded. Alex let the brace fall to the floor and she stepped forward. Her foot came down on it and Alex heard the sound of breaking plastic as she ground it into the tiles. When she removed her foot the brace was cracked in half, the wire bent. If it had been transmitting before, it certainly wasn’t now.
Mrs Rothman turned to Nile. “You’re a fool, Nile. I thought I told you to search him from top to bottom.”
“His mouth…” Nile didn’t know what to say. “It was the one place I didn’t look.” But she had already turned back to Alex. “You didn’t do it, did you, Alex?“ Her voice was full of scorn. ”You didn’t kill her. Mrs Jones is still alive.”
Alex said nothing. Mrs Rothman stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, and then she struck. She was faster and stronger than he would have guessed. Her hand slammed into the side of his face. The sound of it echoed all around. Alex staggered back, dazed. His whole head was ringing and he could feel his cheek glowing red. Mrs Rothman signalled and two guards with machine guns stepped forward to stand next to him, one on either side.
“We may be expecting company,” she announced in a loud, clear voice. “I want units three, four and five to take up defensive positions.”
“Units three, four and five to the perimeter.” An amplified voice relayed the command and twenty of the men ran forward, their feet stamping on the metal gantries, heading for the front of the church.
Mrs Rothman gazed at Alex with eyes that had lost their disguise. They were utterly cruel. “Mrs Jones may be alive,” she spat, “but you won’t be. You have very little time left to live, Alex. Why do you think I brought you here? It’s because I want to see it for myself. I had a special reason to want to kill you, and believe it or not, my dear, you’re already dead.”
She looked past him. The balloon was fully inflated, floating in the space between the floor and the dome. The platform with its deadly cargo was underneath it, hovering a metre above the ground. The ropes were ready.
The dishes were set to automatic.
“Start the launch,” Mrs Rothman commanded. “It’s time London saw the power of Invisible Sword.” HIGH RESOLUTION
« ^ »
Launch … status red. Launch … status red.“ The disembodied voice rang out as one of the Scorpia technicians, sitting in front of a bank of machinery, reached out and pressed a button.
There was a single metallic click and then the hum of machinery as a wheel turned somewhere overhead. Alex looked up. At first glance it seemed to him that the saints and angels were flying apart, as if they had come to life and were drifting down to the pews to pray. Then, with a gasp, he saw what was actually happening. The entire roof was moving. The dome of the oratory had been reconstructed with hidden hydraulic arms that were slowly pulling it open. A crack appeared and widened. He could see the sky. An inch at a time, the great dome was folding back, splitting into two halves. Mrs Rothman was staring upwards, her face filled with delight.
Only now did Alex see how much planning had gone into this operation. The entire church had been adapted —
it must have cost millions—for this single moment.
And nobody had guessed. The police and the army had been searching all over London, examining every structure at least a hundred metres high. But the dishes had been hidden—at ground level. Only now would the hot-air balloon carry them above the city. Certainly someone would notice it. But by the time they made their way to this desolate area, it would be too late. The dishes would have done their work. Thousands of children would have died.
And Alex would be one of them. Mrs Rothman hadn’t killed him, because she had no need to. She had said it herself: he was already dead.
“Raise the balloon.” Mrs Rothman gave the order in a soft voice. But her words were quite clear in the vast space of the church.
The burner under the envelope was alight, sending a red and blue flame shooting up. Two men darted forward and pulled the release mechanism, and at once the platform began to rise. The entire roof had disappeared. It was as if the oratory had been peeled open like an exotic fruit. There was more than enough room for the balloon to begin its journey, and Alex watched it float smoothly up, travelling in a straight line, as if this had been rehearsed. There was no wind. Even the weather seemed to be on Scorpia’s side.
Alex looked around him. His face was still smarting where Mrs Rothman had slapped him but he ignored the pain. He was horribly aware of the seconds ticking away, but there was nothing he could do. Nile was watching him with as much hatred as he had ever seen in a man’s face. The two samurai swords protruded just above his shoulders, and Alex knew he was itching to use them. He had betrayed Scorpia and, worse, he had betrayed Nile. He had humiliated the man in front of Julia Rothman, and for that Nile would make him pay by cutting him to pieces. He needed only the tiniest excuse. The two armed guards still flanked Alex. Others watched him from the gantries and their positions at the entrance. He was helpless.
And where were MI6? He glanced at the broken pieces of the brace. He wished now that he had activated the trigger the moment he had seen the church. But how could he have known? How could anyone have known?
“Alex, before you die, there’s something I want to tell you,” Mrs Rothman confided.
“I’m not interested,” Alex replied.
“Oh, I think you will be, my dear. Because, you see, it’s about your father. And your mother. There’s something you ought to know.”
Alex didn’t want to hear it. And he had come to a decision. He was going to die—but he wouldn’t just stand there. Somehow he was going to hurt Julia Rothman. She had lied to him; she had manipulated him. Worse, she had almost made him betray everything he believed in. She had tried to make him part of Scorpia, like his father. But whatever his father had been, he would never be the same.
Alex tensed, about to throw himself at her, wondering if Nile would cut him down before the guards’ bullets did.
And then one of the windows shattered and something exploded inside the church. Thick smoke billowed out, spreading across the black and white tiles, devouring everything. At the same time came the chatter of machine- gun fire and a second explosion, this one outside. Julia Rothman staggered and fell sideways. Nile twisted round, the white blotches on his face suddenly more livid than ever, his eyes wide and staring. Alex moved.
