Point Blank

to say the least, antisocial. Did you know that he knocked out Friend’s daughter with a stun dart? Apparently, he also got her nearly killed in an incident in a railway tunnel.‛
    Mrs. Jones sat down. ‚What are you saying, Alan?‛ she demanded.
    ‚Only that Alex may not be one hundred percent reliable.‛
    ‚He sent the message.‛ Mrs. Jones couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. ‚For all we know, he could be in serious trouble. We gave him the device as an alarm signal, to let us know if he needed help. He’s used it. We can’t just sit back and do nothing.‛
    ‚I wasn’t suggesting that.‛ Alan Blunt looked curiously at his head of operations. ‚You’re not forming some sort of attachment to Alex Rider, are you?‛ he asked.
    Mrs. Jones looked away. ‚Don’t be ridiculous.‛
    ‚You seem worried about him.‛
    ‚He’s fourteen years old, Alan! He’s a child, for heaven’s sake!‛
    ‚You used to have children.‛
    ‚Yes.‛ Mrs. Jones turned to face him again. ‚Perhaps that does make a difference. But even you must admit that he’s special. We don’t have another agent like him. A fourteen-year-old boy! The perfect secret weapon. My feelings about him have nothing to do with it. We can’t afford to lose him.‛
    ‚I just don’t want to go blundering into Point Blanc without any firm information,‛ Blunt said. ‚First of all, this is France we’re talking about—and you know what the French are like. If we’re seen to be invading their territory, they’ll kick up one hell of a fuss. Secondly, Grief has got hold of boys from some of the wealthiest families in the world. If we go storming in with the SAS or whatever, the whole thing could blow up into a major international incident.‛
    ‚You wanted proof that the school was connected with the deaths of Roscoe and Ivanov,‛
    Mrs. Jones said. ‚Alex may have it.‛
    ‚He may have it and he may not. A twenty-four-hour delay shouldn’t make a great deal of difference.‛
    ‚Twenty-four hours?‛
    ‚We’ll put a unit on standby. They can keep an eye on things. If Alex is in trouble, we’ll find out soon enough. It could play to our favor if he’s managed to stir things up. It’s exactly what we want. Force Grief to show his hand.‛
    ‚And if Alex contacts us again?‛
    ‚Then we’ll go in.‛
    ‚We may be too late.‛
    ‚For Alex?‛ Blunt showed no emotion. ‚I’m sure you don’t need to worry about him, Mrs. Jones. He can look after himself.‛
    The telephone rang, and Blunt answered it. The discussion was over. Mrs. Jones got up and left to make the arrangements for an SAS unit to fly into Geneva. Blunt was right, of course.
    Delaying tactics might work in their favor.
    Clear it with the French. Find out what was going on. And it was only twenty-four hours.
    She would just have to hope Alex could survive that long.
    Alex found himself eating his breakfast on his own. For the first time, James Sprintz had decided to join the other boys. There they were, the six of them, suddenly the best of friends.
    Alex looked carefully at the boy who had once been his friend, trying to see what it was that had changed about him. He knew the answer. It was everything and nothing. James was exactly the same and completely different at the same time.
    He finished his food and got up. James called out to him. ‚Why don’t you come to class this afternoon, Alex? It’s Latin.‛
    Alex shook his head. ‚Latin’s a waste of time.‛
    ‚Is that what you think?‛ James couldn’t keep the sneer out of his voice, and for a moment Alex was startled. For just one second it hadn’t been James talking at all. It had been James who had moved his mouth, but it had been Dr. Grief speaking the words.
    ‚You enjoy it,‛ Alex said. He hurried out of the room.
    More than twenty hours had passed since he had pressed the Fast Forward button on the Discman. Alex wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. A fleet of helicopters all flying the Union Jack would have been reassuring. But so far nothing had happened. He even wondered if the alarm signal had worked. At the same time, he was annoyed with himself.
    He had seen Grief shoot the man called Baxter in the operating room, and he had panicked.
    He knew that Grief was a killer. He knew that the academy was far more than the finishing school it pretended to be. But he still didn’t have all the answers. What exactly was Dr. Grief doing? Had he been responsible for the deaths