too late. Nothing could stop him.
Unless …
Alex threw down the gun and ran forward. There was a snowmobile lying idle a few yards away, its engine still running. The man who had been riding it was lying facedown in the snow.
Alex leapt onto the seat and turned the throttle full on. The snowmobile roared away, skimming over the ice, following the path of the helicopter.
Dr. Grief saw him. The helicopter slowed and turned. Grief raised a hand, waving goodbye. Alex caught sight of the red glasses, the slender fingers raised in one last gesture of defiance. With his hands gripping the handlebars, Alex stood up on the foot grips, tensing himself for what he knew he had to do. The helicopter moved away again, gaining altitude. In front of Alex loomed the ski jump. He was traveling at seventy, eighty miles per hour, snow and wind rushing past him. Ahead of him there was a wooden barrier, shaped like a cross.
Alex smashed through it, then threw himself off.
The snowmobile plunged down, its engine screaming.
Alex rolled over and over in the snow, ice and wood splinters in his eyes and mouth. He managed to get to his knees.
The snowmobile reached the end of the ski jump.
Alex watched it rocket into the air, propelled by the huge metal slide.
In the helicopter, Dr. Grief just had time to see five hundred pounds of solid steel come hurtling toward him out of the night, its headlights blazing, its engine still screaming. His eyes, bright red, opened wide in shock. The makeshift torpedo hit its target full-on. Point-blank.
The explosion lit up the entire mountain. The helicopter disappeared in a huge fireball, then plunged down. it was still burning when it hit the ground.
Behind him, Alex became aware that the shooting had stopped. The battle was over. He walked slowly back to the academy, shivering suddenly in the cold night air. As he approached, a man appeared at the broken window and waved. It was Wolf, propping himself against the wall, but still very much alive. Alex went over to him.
‚What happened to Grief?' he asked.
‚It looks like I ‘sleighed’ him,' Alex replied.
On the slopes, the wreckage of the helicopter flickered and burned as the morning sun began to rise.
DEAD RINGER
« ^
A FEW DAYS LATER, ALEX found himself sitting opposite Alan Blunt in the faceless office on Liverpool Street, with Mrs. Jones twisting another peppermint between her fingers. It was May 1, a bank holiday in England, but somehow he knew that holidays never came to the building that called itself the Royal & General Bank. Even the spring seemed to have stopped at the window. Outside, the sun was shining. Inside, there were only shadows.
‚It seems that once again we owe you a debt of thanks,' Blunt was saying.
‚You don’t owe me anything,' Alex said.
Blunt looked genuinely puzzled. ‚You have quite possibly changed the future of this planet,' he said. ‚Of course, Grief’s plan was monstrous, crazy. But the fact remains that his…'
He searched for a word to describe the test-tube creations that had been sent out of Point Blanc.
‚…his offspring could have caused a great many problems. At the very least they would have had money. God knows what they would have done had they remained undiscovered.'
‚What’s happened to them?' Alex asked.
‚We’ve traced all fifteen of them, and we have them under lock and key,' Mrs. Jones answered. ‚They were quietly arrested by the intelligence services of each country where they lived. We’ll take care of them.'
Alex shivered. He had a feeling he knew what Mrs. Jones had meant by those last words.
And he was certain that nobody would ever see the fifteen Grief replicas again.
‚Once again, we’ve had to hush this up,' Blunt continued. ‚This whole business of …
cloning. It causes a great deal of public disquiet. Sheep are one thing—but human beings!' He coughed. ‚The families involved in this business have no desire for publicity, so they won’t be talking. They’re just glad to have had their real sons returned to them. The same, of course, goes for you, Alex. You’ve already signed the Official Secrets Act. I’m sure we can trust you to be discreet.'
There was a moment’s pause. Mrs. Jones looked carefully at Alex. She had to admit that she was worried about him. She knew everything that had happened at Point Blanc, how close he had come to a horrible death, only to be sent back into the academy for a second time. The boy who had come back from the French Alps was different from the one who had left. There was a coldness about him, as tangible as the mountain snow.
‚You did very well, Alex,' she said.
‚How is Wolf?' Alex asked.
‚He’s fine. He’s still in the hospital, but the doctors say he’ll make a complete recovery. We hope to have him back on operations in a few weeks.'
‚That’s good.'
‚We had only one fatality in the raid on Point Blanc. That was the man you saw falling from the roof. Wolf and another man were injured. Otherwise, it was a complete success.' She paused. ‚Is there anything else you want to know?'
‚No.' Alex shook his head. He stood up. ‚You left me in there,' he said. ‚I called for help and you didn’t come. Grief was going to kill me, but you didn’t care.'
‚That’s not true, Alex.' Mrs. Jones glanced at Blunt for support, but he didn’t meet her eyes.
‚There were difficulties…'
‚It doesn’t matter. I just want you to know that I’ve had enough. I don’t want to be a spy anymore, and if you ask me again, I’ll refuse. I know you think you can blackmail me. But I know too much about you now, so that won’t work anymore.' He walked over to the door. ‚I used to think that being a spy would be exciting and special, like in the films. But you just used me. In a way, the two of you are as bad as Grief. You’ll do anything to get what you want. Well, I want to go back to school. Next time, you can do it without me.'
There was a long silence after Alex had left. At last Blunt spoke. ‚He’ll be back,' he said.
Mrs. Jones raised an eyebrow. ‚You really think so?'
‚He’s too good at what he does—too good at the job. And it’s in his blood.' He stood up.
‚It’s rather odd,' he said. ‚Most schoolboys dream of being a spy. With Alex, we have a spy who dreams of being a schoolboy.'
‚Will you really use him again?' Mrs. Jones asked.
‚Of course. There was a file that came in only this morning. An interesting case. Right up his alley.' He smiled. ‚We’ll give him a few days to settle down and then we’ll call him.'
‚He won’t answer.'
‚We’ll see,' Blunt said.
Alex walked home from the bus stop and let himself into the elegant Chelsea house that he shared with his housekeeper and closest friend, Jack Starbright. Jack knew where Alex had been and what he had been doing. But the two of them had made an agreement never to discuss his involvement with MI6. She didn’t like it, and she worried about him. But ultimately, they both knew, there was nothing more to be said.
She seemed surprised to see him. ‚I thought you’d just gone out,' she said.
‚No.'
‚Did you get the message by the phone?'
‚What message?'
‚Mr. Bray wants to see you this afternoon. Three o’clock at the school.'
Henry Bray was the principal at Brookland. Alex wasn’t surprised by the summons. Bray was the sort of principal who managed to run a busy school and still find time to take a personal interest in every pupil there. He
