Crocodile Tears

struggle with evident delight. He could see himself reflected in the dark circles of her glasses.

    The silence stretched out. Alex could actually smell the crocodiles; a deep, sickly odor of stale fish and decaying meat that rose up and crept into his nostrils. He was finding it difficult to breathe. The pain was getting worse and worse. All the muscles in his upper body were burning.
    “ I believe you,” McCain said at last. “You are telling the truth.”
    “ Then get rid of them!” Alex jerked his head down at the two crocodiles. They were silent now, as if they knew it was only a matter of time before they were given what they wanted.
    Another long pause. Alex’s arms screamed.
    “ I’m afraid not,” McCain said.
    “ What?” Alex shouted the word.
    “ You have annoyed me very much, Alex. I tried to kill you when you were in Scotland, and it would have been a lot better if I had. Your activity at Greenfields very nearly brought an end to an operation that has taken me five years and a great deal of money to develop. Thanks to you, my name is now known to MI6, and that will make my future life more difficult. And, added to that, you are a very rude and unpleasant boy, and all in all, I think you deserve to die.” He turned to Myra Beckett. “I know you enjoy this, my love, so you can stay to the end. I’ll be interested to know how many minutes he manages to hang on before he falls. I somehow doubt that he’ll beat the record.”
    The woman took out her mobile phone. “I’ll take photographs for you, Dezzy.”
    McCain took one last look at Alex. “I hope you die painfully,” he said. “Because although you have not lived long, I really think you deserve a painful death.”

    He signaled to the guards and the three of them walked away. But he had given his gun to Beckett. She was holding it in one hand, the mobile phone in the other. Behind him, Alex heard a splash. A third crocodile had launched itself into the river and was already wriggling its way across.
    “ Four minutes.” The woman glanced at her watch. “I do not think you will make it to five.”
    And she was right. Everything was pain and with every second the pain was getting worse. Alex couldn’t swing himself to safety. He couldn’t climb. He couldn’t move. He could only fall.
    He closed his eyes and knew that very soon he would do just that.

Chapter 21: RAW DEAL

    SEVEN MINUTES. MAYBE EIGHT MINUTES. Alex wasn’t even sure why he was hanging on anymore. The sooner he dropped, the sooner it would all be over. His whole body was racked by pain and his blood was pounding in his ears and behind his eyes. With every second that passed, the strength was draining out of his arms. He tried to accept what was about to happen: his fingers slipping out of the metal handles, the short fall down to the riverbank, the jarring impact, and then the final horror as the crocodiles attacked.
    Myra Beckett leaned forward. “Do you have any last words?” she asked. “Any good-byes you want to make? I can record them for you.” She held out her mobile phone.
    “ Go rot in hell.” Alex’s eyes felt as if they were swollen shut, but he forced them open, staring straight at her.

    “ You are the one on the way to hell, my dear,” she said.
    Her eyes widened. She took a step forward as if something had surprised her. Once again she opened her mouth and Alex thought she was about to speak, but instead, a stream of blood poured over her lower lip. A moment later, she pitched forward and fell and Alex glimpsed the hilt of a knife jutting out of the back of her neck. Desperately clinging onto the handles, he cork-screwed around and looked down. The woman had landed in the middle of the crocodiles. She was still alive. He heard her scream as she was torn apart, her arms and legs being pulled in three directions. He turned away. He couldn’t watch any more.
    He was going to join her. His own strength was gone. He felt his fingers opening. But then suddenly there was a man on the observation platform, leaning out, reaching toward him, and even as he wondered where the man had come from, he knew that he had seen him somewhere before.
    “ Alex!” the man called. “Take my hand.”
    “ I can’t reach …”
    “ One effort. You can make it.”
    The distance was too great. Alex would have to let go with one hand and throw himself sideways, reaching out with the other. If he miscalculated or if the man was tricking him, that would be it. The