inside. Sir David Friend had returned from London, and he and his wife came outside to watch it land in front of the house. The engine noise died down and the rotors began to slow. The cabin door slid open, and the pilot got out, dressed in a one-piece leather flying suit, helmet, and goggles.
The pilot walked up to them, extending a hand. ‚Good morning,' she shouted over the noise of the rotors. ‚I’m Mrs. Stellenbosch. From the academy…'
If Sir David and Lady Caroline had been thrown by their first sight of Alex, the appearance of the assistant director left them frozen to the spot. Sir David was the first to recover. ‚You flew the helicopter yourself?'
‚Yes … I’m qualified,' Mrs. Stellenbosch answered.
‚Would you like to come in?' Lady Caroline said. ‚Perhaps you’d like some tea.'
She led them into the house and into the living room, where Mrs. Stellenbosch sat, legs apart, her helmet on the sofa beside her. Sir David and Lady Caroline sat opposite her. Tea had been brought in on a tray.
‚Do you mind if I smoke?' Mrs. Stellenbosch asked.
She reached into a pocket and took out a small packet of cigars without waiting for an answer. She lit one and blew smoke. ‚What a very beautiful house you have, Sir David.
Georgian, I would say, but decorated with such taste! And where, may I ask, is Alex?'
‚He went for a walk,' Sir David said.
‚Perhaps he’s a little nervous.' She smiled again and took the teacup Lady Caroline had proffered. ‚I understand that Alex has been a great source of concern to you.'
Sir David Friend nodded. His eyes gave nothing away. For the next few minutes, he told Mrs. Stellenbosch about Alex, how he had been expelled from Eton, how out of control he had become. Lady Caroline listened to all this in silence, occasionally holding her husband’s arm.
‚I’m at my wit’s end,' Sir David concluded. ‚We have an older daughter, and she’s perfectly delightful. But Alex’? He hangs around the house. He doesn’t read. He doesn’t show any interest in anything. His appearance … well, you’ll see for yourself. The Point Blanc Academy is our last resort, Mrs. Stellenbosch. We’re desperately hoping you can straighten him out.'
The assistant director poked at the air with her cigar, leaving a gray trail. ‚I’m sure you’ve been a marvelous father, Sir David,' she purred. ‚But these modern children! It’s heartbreaking the way some of them behave. You’ve done the right thing, coming to us. As I’m sure you know, the academy has had a remarkable success rate over the years.'
‚What exactly do you do?' Lady Caroline asked.
‚We have our methods.' The woman’s eyes twinkled.
She tapped ash into her saucer. ‚But I can promise you, we’ll straighten out all his problems.
Don’t you worry! When he comes home, he’ll be a completely different boy.'
Alex had reached the edge of a field about a half mile from the house. He had seen the helicopter land and knew that his time had come. But he wasn’t ready yet to leave. Mrs. Jones had telephoned him the night before. Once again, MI6 wasn’t going to send him empty-handed into what might be enemy territory.
He watched as a combine harvester rumbled slowly toward him, cutting a swathe through the grass. It jerked to a halt a short distance away, and the door of the cabin opened. A man got out—with difficulty. He was so fat that he had to squeeze himself out, first one buttock, then the next, and finally his stomach, shoulders, and head. The man was wearing a checked shirt and blue overalls—a farmer’s outfit. But even if he’d had a straw hat and a blade of corn between his teeth, Alex could never have imagined him actually farming anything.
The man grinned at him. ‚Hello, old chap!' he said.
‚Hello, Mr. Smithers,' Alex replied.
Smithers worked for MI6. He had supplied the various devices Alex had used on his last mission. ‚Very nice to see you again!' he exclaimed. He winked. ‚What do you think of the cover? I was told to blend in with the countryside.'
‚The combine harvester’s a great idea,' Alex said. ‚Except, this is April. There isn’t anything to harvest.'
‚I hadn’t thought of that!' Smithers beamed. ‚The trouble is, I’m not really a field agent.
Field agent!' He looked around him and laughed. ‚Anyway, I’m jolly glad to have the chance to work with you again, Alex—to think up a few bits and pieces for you. It’s not often I get a teenager. Much more fun than the adults!'
He reached into the cabin and pulled out a suitcase. ‚Actually, it’s been a bit tricky this time,' he went on.
‚Have you got another Nintendo Game Boy?' Alex asked.
‚No. That’s just it. The school doesn’t allow Game Boys—or any computers at all, for that matter. They supply their own laptops. I could have hidden a dozen gadgets inside a laptop, but there you are! Now, let’s see…' He opened the case. ‚I’m told there’s still a lot of snow up at Point Blanc’ so you’ll need this.'
‚A ski suit,' Alex said. That was what Smithers was holding.
‚Yes. But it’s highly insulated and also bulletproof.' He pulled out a pair of green-tinted goggles. ‚These are ski goggles. But in case you have to go anywhere at night, they’re actually infrared. There’s a battery concealed in the frame. Just press the switch and you’ll be able to see about twenty yards, even if there’s no moon.'
Smithers reached into the case a second time. ‚Now, what else would a boy of your age have with him? Fortunately, you’re allowed to take a Sony Discman, provided all the CDs are classical.' He handed Alex the machine.
‚So while people are shooting at me in the middle of the night, I get to listen to music,' Alex said.
‚Absolutely. Only don’t play the Beethoven!' Smithers held up the disc. ‚The Discman converts into an electric saw. The CD is diamond-edged. It’ll cut through just about anything—
useful if you need to get out in a hurry. There’s also a panic button I’ve built in. If you’re in real trouble and you need help, just press Fast Forward three times. It’ll send out a signal that our satellite will pick up. And then we can fast forward you out!'
‚Thank you, Mr. Smithers,' Alex said, but he was disappointed and it showed.
Smithers understood. ‚I know what you want,' he said. ‚But you know you can’t have it.
No guns! Mr. Blunt is adamant. He thinks you’re too young.'
‚Not too young to get killed, though.'
‚I know. So I’ve given it a bit of thought and rustled up a couple of … defensive measures, so to speak. This is just between you and me, you understand. I’m not sure Mr. Blunt would approve.'
He held out a hand. A gold ear stud lay in two pieces in the middle of his palm: a diamond shape for the front and a catch to hold it at the back. The stud looked tiny surrounded by so much flesh. ‚They told me you’d had your ear pierced,' he said. ‚So I made you this. Be very careful after you’ve put it in. Bringing the two pieces together will activate it.'
‚Activate what?' Alex looked doubtful.
‚The ear stud is a small but very powerful explosive device. Like a miniature grenade.
Separating the two pieces again will set it off. Count to ten and it’ll blow a hole in just about anything … or anyone, I should add.'
‚Just so long as it doesn’t blow off my ear,' Alex muttered.
‚No, no. It’s perfectly safe so long as the pieces remain attached.' Smithers smiled. ‚And finally, I’m very pleased with this. It’s exactly what you’d expect to find in a young boy’s luggage, and I designed it especially for you.' He had produced a book.
Alex took it. It was a hardcover edition of the latest Harry Potter book. ‚Thanks,' he said.
‚But I’ve already read it.'
‚This is a special edition. There’s a gun built into the spine, and the chamber is loaded with a stun dart. Just point it and press the author’s name. It’ll knock out an adult in less than five seconds.'
Alex smiled. Smithers climbed back into the combine harvester. For a moment he seemed to have wedged himself permanently into the door, but then with a grunt he managed to go the whole way. ‚Good luck, old chap,' he said. ‚Come back in one piece! I really do enjoy having you around!'
