Suddenly Alex remembered. He was angry with himself for not mentioning it before. ‚You can’t go into the cells,' he whispered. ‚They’re wired up for sound.'
Wolf nodded. ‚Show me!'
Alex showed Wolf the passage with the steel-lined doors. Wolf pointed to two of the men. ‚I want you to stay here. If we’re found, this is the first place Grief will come.'
The men nodded. They understood. The rest of them went back to the elevator, up to the library, and out into the hall.
Wolf turned to Alex. ‚We’re going to have to deactivate the system,' he explained. ‚Do you have any idea …?'
‚This way. Grief’s private rooms are on the other side.'
But before he could finish, three more guards appeared, walking down the passageway.
Wolf shot one of them another anesthetic dart—and one of his men took out the other two. But this time they were a fraction of a second too slow. Alex saw one of the guards bring his gun around. He was probably unconscious before he managed to fire. But at the last moment, his finger tightened on the trigger. Bullets sprayed upward, smashing into the ceiling, bringing plaster and wood splinters showering down. Nobody had been hit, but the damage had been done. The lights flashed on. Once again, the alarm began to ring.
Twenty yards away, a door opened and more guards poured through.
‚Down!' Wolf shouted.
He had produced a grenade. He tugged the pin out and threw it. Alex hit the ground, and a second later there was a soft explosion as a great cloud of tear gas filled the far end of the passage. The guards staggered, blind and helpless. The SAS men quickly took them out.
Wolf grabbed hold of him and dragged him close. ‚Find somewhere to hide!' he shouted.
‚You’ve got us in. We’ll do the rest now.'
‚Give me a gun!' Alex shouted back. Some of the gas had reached him, and he could feel his eyes burning.
‚No. I’ve got orders. At the first sign of trouble, you’re to get out of the way. Find somewhere safe. We’ll come for you later.'
‚Wolf!'
But Wolf was already up and running. Alex heard machinegun fire coming from somewhere below. So Wolf had been right. One of the guards had been sent to take care of the prisoners—but there had been two SAS men waiting for him. And now the rules had changed.
The SAS couldn’t afford to risk the lives of the prisoners. There was going to be bloodshed. Alex could only imagine the battle that must be taking place. But he was to be no part of it. His job was to hide.
More explosions. More gunfire. There was a bitter taste in Alex’s mouth as he made his way back to the stairs. It was typical of MI6. Half the time they would happily get him killed. The other half they treated him like a child. A guard appeared suddenly, running toward the sound of the fighting. Alex’s eyes were still smarting from the gas, and now he made use of it. He brought his hand up to his face, pretending to cry. The guard saw a fourteen- year-old boy in tears. He stopped. At that moment Alex twisted around on his left foot, driving the upper part of his right foot sideways into the man’s stomach—the roundhouse kick or mawashi-geri he had learned in karate. The guard didn’t even have time to cry out. His eyes rolled and he went limp. Alex felt a little better after that.
But there was still nothing more for him to do. There was another round of gunfire, then the quiet blast of a second gas grenade. Alex went into the dining room. From here he could look out through the windows at the side of the building and the helipad above. He noticed that the blades of the helicopter were turning. Somebody was inside it! He moved closer to the window.
It was Dr. Grief! He had to let Wolf know.
He turned around.
Mrs. Stellenbosch was standing in front of him.
He had never seen her look less human. Her entire face was contorted with anger, her lips rolled outward, her eyes ablaze.
‚You didn’t die!' she exclaimed. ‚You’re still alive!' Her voice was almost a whine, as if somehow none of it had been fair. ‚You brought them here. You’ve ruined everything!'
‚That’s what I’m paid for,' Alex said.
‚What was it that made me look in here?' Mrs. Stellenbosch giggled to herself. Alex could almost see the sanity slipping out of her. ‚Well, at least this is one bit of business I’m finally going to be able to finish.'
Alex tensed himself, feet apart, gravity center low, just like he had been taught. But it was useless. Mrs. Stellenbosch lurched into him, moving with frightening speed. It was like being run over by a bus. Alex felt the full impact of her body weight, then cried out as two massive hands seized hold of him and threw him headfirst across the room. He crashed into a table, knocking it over, then rolled out of the way as Mrs. Stellenbosch followed up her first attack, lashing out with a kick that would have taken his head off his shoulders if it hadn’t missed by less than an inch.
He scrambled to his feet and stood there, panting for breath. For a moment his vision was blurred. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. Mrs. Stellenbosch charged again. Alex threw himself forward, using another of the tables for leverage. His feet swung around, scything through the air, both his heels catching her on the back of the head.
Anyone else would have been knocked out by the blow. But although Alex felt the jolt of it running all the way up his body, Mrs. Stellenbosch hardly faltered. As Alex left the table, her hands swung down, smashing through the thick wood. The table fell apart and she walked through it, grabbing him again, this time by the neck. Alex felt his feet leave the floor. With a grunt she hurled him against the wall. Alex yelled, wondering if his back had been broken. He slid to the floor. He couldn’t move.
Mrs. Stellenbosch stopped, breathing heavily. She glanced out the window. The helicopter’s blades were at full speed now. The helicopter rocked forward then slowly rose into the air. It was time to go.
She reached down and picked up her handbag. She took out a gun and aimed at Alex. Alex stared at her. There was nothing he could do.
Mrs. Stellenbosch smiled. ‚And this is what I am paid for,' she said.
The dining room door swung open.
‚Alex!' It was Wolf. He was holding a machine gun.
Mrs. Stellenbosch lifted the gun up and fired three shots. Each one of them hit its target.
Wolf was hit in the shoulder, the arm, and the chest. But even as he fell back, he opened fire himself. The heavy bullets slammed into Mrs. Stellenbosch. She was hurled backward into the window, which smashed behind her. With a scream she disappeared into the night and the snow, headfirst, her heavy, stockinged legs trailing behind.
The shock of what had happened gave Alex new strength. He got to his feet and ran over to Wolf. The SAS man wasn’t dead, but he was badly hurt, his breath rattling.
‚I’m okay,' he managed to say. ‚Came looking for you. Glad I found you.'
‚Wolf…'
‚Okay.' He tapped at his chest and Alex saw that he was wearing body armor under his jacket. There was blood coming from his arm, but the other two bullets hadn’t reached him.
‚Grief…' he said.
Wolf gestured, and Alex looked around. The helicopter had left its launchpad. It was flying low outside the academy. Alex saw Dr. Grief in the pilot’s seat. He had a gun. He fired. There was a yell, and a body fell from somewhere above. One of the SAS men.
Suddenly Alex was angry. Grief was a freak, a monster. He was responsible for all this—and he was going to get away. Not knowing what he was doing, he snatched up Wolf’s gun and ran through the broken window, past the dead body of Mrs. Stellenbosch and into the night. He tried to aim. The blades of the helicopter were whipping up the surface snow, blinding him, but he pointed the gun up and fired. Nothing happened. He pulled the trigger again. Still nothing.
Either Wolf had used all his ammunition or the gun had jammed.
Dr. Grief pulled at the controls and the helicopter banked away, following the slope of the mountain. It was
