Scorpia Rising

in Gibraltar. Julius Grief. All this talk of schoolchildren had reminded him. He considered it for a moment, then moved on. The boy had tried to escape in a car and driven over a cliff. The body still hadn’t been recovered, but there was no way he could have survived. So that was that. It couldn’t be related.
    “Why else would they target a school?” Mrs. Jones asked.
    “Let’s consider the possibilities.” Blunt thought for a moment. The eyes behind the square-framed glasses were bleak. He was weeks away from retirement. He hadn’t expected this. “Scorpia is planning an assault of some sort on an international school in Cairo. They send Levi Kroll to London for reasons that are unclear but that seem to be connected to the recruitment of this new head of security. It may well be that Kurst was in London last February for exactly the same purpose . . .
    “It would seem likely that they’re planning to put their own man inside the school, although looking at his file, this man Gunter seems to be beyond reproach. He’s a war hero, for heaven’s sake! However, I agree with you. It seems a bit of a coincidence that the last head of security should have been taken out by a hit-and-run driver. So . . . let’s assume that Kroll was killed by a rival organization, because if it had been his own people, they’d have made sure he had nothing in his pockets when he was found. In fact, the body wouldn’t have been found at all. It seems to me there are two questions we have to consider. Is this the most likely explanation of what has occurred? And what should we do?”
    “We could warn the school,” Mrs. Jones suggested.
    “I’m not so sure. Warn them about what? We can only guess what Scorpia is planning and we have no idea when it’s going to happen. We could talk to the Egyptian government, but they’re unlikely to listen to us—besides which, we have to consider the bigger picture. What about the Syrians, the Americans, and all the other families? If we tell them about this, we’ll have half the intelligence agencies in the world at each other’s throats. It could all turn into a complete mess.”
    “But if Scorpia knew we were onto them, they might decide not to proceed.”
    “Exactly.”
    Mrs. Jones saw the glint in Blunt’s eye and suddenly she understood. “You want them to go ahead,” she said.
    “I want them to try,” Blunt agreed. “We could turn this whole thing into a trap. Just for once, we’re one step ahead of them, and if they actually decide to make a move, this could be an opportunity to finish them, once and for all.”
    “But you wouldn’t seriously risk the lives of the children at this international school?”
    “Of course not. We’ll put an agent inside to keep an eye on the situation, and the moment Scorpia shows themselves, we’ll be ready for them.” Blunt thought for a moment. “What we need—,” he began.
    “No.” It was unheard of for Mrs. Jones to interrupt her superior when he was speaking. But she did so now. “We can’t do it.”
    Blunt blinked slowly. “You know what I’m thinking.”
    Of course she did. Mrs. Jones had spent hundreds of hours with Blunt. Soon she might replace him. She knew him inside out. “We can’t use Alex,” she said.
    “I’m sure you’re right, Mrs. Jones. But you must admit that this would have been exactly the sort of mission for him. Put a fourteen-year-old into a school and nobody would look twice. Just like at Point Blanc.”
    “Alex is fifteen now,” Mrs. Jones reminded him. “And that business in Kenya was the end of it, Alan.” She didn’t often use his Christian name when there were other people in the room, but for now she ignored Redwing, who had lapsed back into silence, waiting her turn. “He was badly hurt . . . burned. He was in the hospital again. We both agreed. He’s been through enough.”
    “I’m not sure I agreed.”
    “We also have orders from Downing Street.” Mrs. Jones didn’t dare disobey an instruction that came directly from the prime minister, not when she might be weeks away from taking over at MI6.
    Blunt understood that. “I still suggest we put one of our people inside,” he said.
    Mrs. Jones relaxed. “As a teacher?”
    “A teacher or a cleaner. Get Crawley onto it. Smithers to provide surveillance and communications equipment. In the meantime, let’s keep an eye on all known Scorpia agents, particularly if they show up anywhere near the Egyptian border.” He