Scorpia Rising

direct! Please have some breakfast. You both need to eat and—particularly in this heat—to drink.”
    Alex took some fruit. Jack hesitated, then did the same. A man walked past them pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with salt crystals. Whatever work went on here, it never stopped.
    Razim licked his spoon clean. “That’s better,” he began. “I’m sure the two of you have a lot of questions, so let me put your minds at rest by answering at least a few of them.”
    “You don’t need to tell us anything,” Alex interrupted. “I already know that you’re part of Scorpia and that you’re planning to assassinate the American secretary of state when she gives her talk in Cairo this weekend. I also know where we are. We’re close to the town of Siwa.” At least some of this was guesswork, but Alex was pleased to see a flicker of surprise behind the two circles of glass. Razim had been thrown and couldn’t conceal it. “I know this,” he went on, “and MI6 knows it too. By now they’ll have realized that Jack and I are missing and they’ll come looking for us. If you let us go now, you might have time to save yourself. But otherwise I’d say you’re pretty much finished.”
    There was a long silence. Then Razim broke into a forced, unnatural laugh. “Well spoken, Alex,” he said. “My friends at Scorpia told me you were someone to be reckoned with and they were certainly right. I am willing to accept that you have managed to work out at least part of what we are planning. You have seen the rifle. It is common knowledge that the secretary of state will be here tomorrow. But it is already too late to prevent us, and I can assure you that you have no idea at all of our true aims.
    “As to the arrival of MI6, which I am inclined to doubt, they may find it more difficult than you think to reach us. This fort was built more than two hundred years ago, but I have made certain modifications. We are in the middle of a minefield. There is what you might call a necklace of roadside devices, similar to those used in Afghanistan, around the compound. We can activate them the moment we come under attack . . . There’s a series of switches in the control room.” He gestured at the old bake house with its brick chimney. “You might also like to know that the towers here are equipped with radar warning and electronic warfare antennae. We have enough firepower here to blast an entire fleet of aircraft out of the sky. The Iranians kindly provided us with several of their SA2 medium-range, high-altitude surface-to-air missiles. At a price, of course. But I am a man who likes to feel safe, and were any enemy forces to show themselves—in the air or on land—I can assure you that it would be a simple matter to blow them to smithereens.”
    He smiled and laid down his spoon, lining it up exactly with his plate.
    “But even if by some miracle MI6 did manage to find us and break in, they would still be too late,” he continued. “I am leaving Egypt tomorrow night. I have another identity and another life waiting for me in another part of the world. And as for you, Alex . . . well, that was what I wanted to talk to you about. That’s why I invited you to join me.”
    He paused. Alex glanced at Jack, willing her to stay quiet, not to endanger herself. He knew she wasn’t going to like what they were about to hear.
    “I will make no secret of the fact that you have been a considerable nuisance to my colleagues in Scorpia,” he began. “Indeed, one of the things that attracted them to this operation was that you were going to be at the center of it. Speaking personally, I have no interest in revenge. And I want you to understand that I have no particular feelings about you. You seem a pleasant enough boy. But unfortunately for you, you are now completely in my power and, as it happens, I am a scientist. Recently, I have been doing a great deal of research into the subject of pain. This evening, when the sun sets, I intend to perform an experiment on you. In effect, my aim is to cause you more pain than you have ever known, more pain than you can begin to imagine.”
    “You’re mad . . .,” Jack whispered.
    Razim ignored her. “It’s strange, but imagining pain actually makes it worse when it finally arrives. This is something I have discovered through my research. I notice that you are clutching a fruit knife, Miss Starbright, and perhaps plan to attack me with it. I can assure you that one of my guards will