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Eagle Strike

Eagle Strike

Titel: Eagle Strike Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Anthony Horowitz
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city and would stay there until it was stolen or rusted away. Jack knew he had planned to break into the compound, but even if she did raise the alarm, how would anyone ever find him?
    Despair weighed down on him. He no longer had the strength to fight it.
    And still he knew almost nothing. Why had Cray invested so much time and money in the game system he called Gameslayer? Why did he need the flash drive? What was the plane doing in the middle of the compound? Above all, what was Cray planning? Eagle Strike would take place in two days—but where, and what would it entail?
    Alex forced himself to take control. He‟d been locked up before. The important thing was to fight back—not to admit defeat. Cray had already made mistakes. Even speaking his own name on the phone when Alex called him from Saint-Pierre had been an error of judgement. He might have power, fame and enormous resources. He was certainly planning a huge operation. But he wasn‟t as clever as he thought. Alex could still beat him.
    But how to begin? Cray had put him into this cell to experience what he called pain synthesis.
    Alex didn‟t like the sound of that. And what had the guard said? Find the way out—or starve.
    But there was no way out. Alex ran his hands across the walls. They were solid steel. He went over and examined the door a second time. Nothing.
    It was tightly sealed. He glanced at the ceiling, at the single bulb burning behind a thick pane of glass. That only left the bunk…
    He found the trapdoor underneath, built into the wall. It was like a cat flap, just big enough to take a human body. Gingerly, wondering if it might be booby-trapped, Alex reached out and pushed it. The metal flap swung inwards. There was some sort of tunnel on the other side, but he couldn‟t see anything. If he crawled into it, he would be entering a narrow space with no light at all—and he couldn‟t even be sure that the tunnel actually went anywhere. Did he have the courage to go in?
    There was no alternative. Alex examined the cell one last time, knelt down and pushed himself forward. The metal flap swung open in front of him, then travelled down his back as he crawled into the tunnel. He felt it hit the back of his heels and there was a soft click. What was that? He couldn‟t see anything. He lifted a hand and waved it in front of his face. It was as if it wasn‟t there. He reached out in front of him and felt a solid wall. God! He had walked—crawled rather—into a trap. This wasn‟t the way out after all.
    He pushed himself back the way he had come. and that was when he discovered the flap was now locked. He kicked out with his feet but it wouldn‟t move. Panic, total and uncontrollable, overwhelmed him. He was buried alive, in total darkness, with no air. This was what Cray had meant by pain synthesis: a death too hideous to imagine.
    Alex went mad.
    Unable to control himself, he screamed out, his fists lashing against the walls of this metal coffin. He was suffocating.
    His flailing hand hit a section of the wall and he felt it give way. There was a second flap!
    Gasping for air, he twisted round and into a second tunnel, as black and as chilling as the first.
    But at least there was some faint flicker of hope burning in his consciousness. There was a way through. If he could just keep a grip on himself, he might yet find his way back into the light.
    The second tunnel was longer. Alex slithered forward, feeling the sheet metal under his hands.
    He forced himself to slow down. He was still completely blind. If there was a hole ahead of him, he would plunge into it before he knew what had happened. As he went, he tapped against the walls, searching for other passageways. His head knocked into something and he swore. The bad language helped him. It was good to direct his hatred against Damian Cray. And hearing his own voice reminded him he was still alive.
    He had bumped into a ladder. He took hold of it with both hands and felt for the opening that must be above his shoulders. He was lying flat on his stomach, but slowly he manipulated himself round and began to climb up, feeling his way in case there was a ceiling overhead. His hand came into contact with something and he pushed. To his huge relief, light flooded in. He had opened some sort of trapdoor with a large, brightly lit room on the other side. Gratefully he climbed the last rungs and passed through.
    The air was warm. Alex sucked it into his lungs, allowing his feelings of

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