the Thai people lost in their prayers. Briefly, he consid-W a t H o
ered starting a fight, out here, while there were still witnesses. But it would do him no good. The man could shoot him in the back and disappear before anyone knew what had happened. The moment would come . . . but not yet.
The red door was set in the wall of a cloister—
somewhere for the monks to walk in silent contemplation.
It was surrounded by images of the
As he approached, the door clicked open automatically. There had to be a surveillance camera somewhere, but, looking around, Alex couldn’t see it. There was a modern corridor on the other side, with bare brick walls slanting down toward a second door. This one opened too. All the sounds of the temple had faded away behind him. He felt as if he was being swallowed up.
Alex wasn’t going to let that happen. He timed his move very carefully. The second doorway was narrow, leading into a square-shaped hall that could have been the reception area of a lawyer’s office or a stylish private bank. The walls were covered in wooden panels. There was an antique table with a lamp, a fan turning overhead.
And more bizarre than anything, on the opposite wall, a picture of the queen of England.
As Alex made his way in, he hesitated, allowing the
S N A K E H E A D
man to catch up. Then suddenly he punched backward with his elbow, bringing his fist swinging around in the same motion.
It was a move he had been taught when he was training with the SAS in the Brecon Beacons in Wales. The elbow jab winds your man. The fist carries the gun aside, giving you time to spin around and kick out with all your strength. Never try it in the open because you’ll end up getting shot. It only works in a confined space.
But not this time. The man seemed to have been expecting the maneuver. He had simply stepped aside the moment Alex began his move. Alex’s first strike didn’t make contact with anything, and before he could even begin to turn, he felt the cold farewell of the gun pressed against the side of his head.
“Nice try, Cub,” the man said. “But much too slow.” And that was when Alex knew. “Fox!” he exclaimed.
The gun didn’t matter anymore. Alex turned to stand face-to-face with the man—who was now grinning at him like an old friend. Which, in a sense, he was. The two of them had actually met in the Brecon Beacons. There had been four men in the unit to which Alex had been assigned: Wolf, Eagle, Snake, and Fox. None of them had been allowed to use their real names. While he was with them, Alex was Cub. And now that he thought about it, there had been one with a Liverpool accent. It seemed incredible that the two of them should have met up again
in Bangkok, but there could be no doubt about it. Fox was standing in front of him now.
“You were at the airport,” Alex said. “I saw you, wearing a poppy.”
“Yes. I should have taken that off. But I’d just flown in from London myself.”
“And you were at the Peninsula Hotel.” Fox nodded. “I couldn’t believe it was you when I first saw you, so I followed you to be sure. I’ve been keeping an eye on you ever since, Alex. Lucky for you . . .”
“Last night . . .” Alex’s head swam. “Was that you at the arena? You set the place on fire!”
“I followed you over to Patpong, and I was there when those men picked you up. Then I followed them down to the Chada Trading Agency. It wasn’t easy, I can tell you.
And it took me ages to weasel my way in. When I arrived, you were already in the ring. I thought you were going to get beaten to a pulp. But I’d seen where the main fuses were, so I sneaked back and turned out all the lights.
Then I came looking for you. Things got a bit dicey when the lights came back on and I had to shoot a few of the opposition and throw a couple of grenades. The last time I saw you, you were in a ferry, trying to get away. It might have helped if you’d untied it first.”
“You shot Anan Sukit.”
“Was that his name? Well, he was trying to shoot you.
It was the very least I could do.”
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S N A K E H E A D
“So what is this place?” Alex looked around. “What are you doing in Bangkok? And what’s your real name?
You can’t go on expecting me to call you Fox.”
“My real name’s Ben Daniels. You’re Alex Rider. Of course, I know that now.”
“You’ve left the SAS?”
“I got assigned to MI6 Special Operations. And since you ask, that’s where you are now. This is what you might call the Bangkok office of the Royal and General Bank.” The words were hardly out of his mouth when a door opened on the other side of the hallway and a woman walked into the room. Alex caught it at once . . . the faint smell of peppermint.
“Alex Rider!” Mrs. Jones exclaimed. “I have to say, you’re the last person I expected to see. Come into my office immediately. I want to know—why aren’t you at school?”
11
