Point Blank

Wolf and quickly gave him his bearings, pointing out the different rooms.
    ‚The library?‛ Wolf whispered. He was totally serious now. Alex could see the tension in his eyes.
    ‚Through here.‛
    Wolf took a step forward, then crouched down, his hand whipping into one of the pouches of his jacket. Another guard had appeared, patrolling the lower corridor. Dr. Grief was taking no more chances. Wolf waited until the man had gone past and then nodded. One of the other SAS men went after him. Alex heard a thud and the soft clatter of a gun dropping.
    ‚So far so good,‛ Wolf whispered.
    They went into the library. Alex showed Wolf how to summon the elevator, and Wolf whistled softly as the suit of armor smoothly divided into two parts. ‚This is quite a place,‛ he muttered.
    ‚Are you going up or down?‛
    ‚Down. Let’s make sure the kids are all right.‛
    There was just room for all seven of them in the elevator. Alex had warned Wolf about the guard at the table, in sight of the elevator, and Wolf took no chances: he came out firing. In fact, two guards were there. One of them was holding a mug of coffee while the other lit a cigarette.
    Wolf fired twice. Two more anesthetic darts traveled the short distance along the corridor and found their targets. Again, it had all happened in almost total silence. The two guards collapsed and lay still. The SAS men stepped out into the corridor.
    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