song was that old Australian favorite, “Waltzing Matilda.” Alex wondered what Smithers had meant by his warning.
Did he really know something that Alex didn’t, or was he just being mischievous?
Ben Daniels was waiting on the other side.
“Are you ready, Cub?” he asked.
“Armed and dangerous,” Alex replied.
The two of them left together.
12
T H E S I L E N T S T R E E T S
AS H WA S A L R E A DY I N the room when Alex got back. At first he was angry.
“Where the hell have you been, Alex?” he growled. “I was worried about you. I told you to wait for me here.” Then his eyes narrowed. He glanced down at Alex’s waist.
“That’s a nice belt. Where did you get it?” Alex was impressed. His godfather had spent half his life as a spy, and of course he had been trained to notice every detail. Despite everything that had happened in the last twenty- four hours, Ash had immediately picked up on this one tiny change in Alex’s appearance.
“It was given to me,” Alex said.
“Who by?”
“I met some old friends . . .”
Quickly Alex described what had happened: how he had seen Ben Daniels in the crowd, followed him to Wat Ho, and found himself in the MI6 stronghold. Mrs. Jones had given him permission to tell Ash about Royal Blue, and he mentioned the possible link between Major Yu and Scorpia. Ash’s eyes grew dark when he heard the name.
“Nobody told me they were involved,” he muttered. “I don’t like this, Alex. And nor will Ethan Brooke. You and
S N A K E H E A D
I are meant to be gathering information. Nothing more, nothing less. Now it’s getting messy.”
“That’s not my fault, Ash.”
“Maybe I should go to this temple, have a word with Mrs. Jones.” Ash thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No. There’s no point in arguing with her.
Go on . . .”
Alex went on with his story. It seemed that he was now working not for one but two secret services. He supposed Ash had a point. The mission had certainly been bent out of shape, and suddenly there was a ticking bomb at the heart of it. Why did Scorpia need Royal Blue? If Scorpia was involved, it was bound to be something big—and they wouldn’t care how many people died. But why this bomb? Why not any other?
Alex tried to put it out of his head. He finished by describing how once again Smithers had equipped him.
“So Smithers is still with MI6!” Ash smiled briefly.
“He’s quite a character. And he supplied the belt? What does it do . . . besides keep your pants up?”
“I haven’t had a chance to examine it yet,” Alex admitted. “But there’s a knife in the buckle. And there’s stuff hidden inside. Some sort of jungle survival kit.”
“Who said you were heading into the jungle?” Alex shrugged.
Ash shook his head. “I’m not sure you should keep it,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Because it may not fit in with your cover. It didn’t come from Afghanistan like everything else you’re wearing. If we get into any more trouble, it could be noticed.”
“Forget it, Ash. I’m keeping it. But if you like, I’ll make sure it’s out of sight.” Alex untucked his shirt and let it hang over the belt.
“What about the watch? Did Smithers give you that too?”
“Yes.” Alex wasn’t surprised that Ash had also noticed the watch. He held out his wrist. “In case you’re wondering, the hands don’t move. It’s got a transmitter in it.
I can call MI6.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“I might need help.”
“If you need help, you can call me.”
“I don’t have your number, Ash.”
Ash scowled. “I’m not sure ASIS would be too happy about any of this.”
Alex held his ground. “I’m not sure I’d be too happy if I ended up dead,” he said.
Ash could see that Alex was in no mood for an argu-ment. “All right,” he said. “Maybe it’s for the best. I won’t have to worry about you so much if I know you’ve got backup. But don’t call MI6 without telling me—okay?
Promise me that. I don’t work for them anymore and when all is said and done, I’ve got my reputation to consider.”
