Scorpia
we’re involved in an operation called Invisible Sword, but there’s no reason for you to know anything about it. Not yet. I will, however, tell you why we had to kill Dr Liebermann. It’s really very simple. It was because he was unreliable.
We paid him a great deal to help us in a certain matter. He was worried about what he was doing and at the same time he wanted more money. A man like that can be a danger to us all. It was safer to get rid of him.
“But let’s go back to your first question. You want to know about Scorpia. That’s why you were in Venice and that’s why you’ve followed me here. Very well. I’ll tell you.”
She sipped her champagne, then set the glass down. Alex suddenly realized that their table had been positioned so that they could talk without being overheard. Even so, Mrs Rothman moved a little closer before she spoke.
“As you guessed, Alex, Scorpia is a criminal organization,” she began. “The S stands for sabotage. The CORP
comes from corruption. The I is intelligence—in other words, spying. And the A is for assassination. These are our main areas of expertise, though there are others. We are successful and that has made us powerful. We can be found all over the world. The secret services can’t do anything about us. We’re too big and they’ve left it too late. Anyway, occasionally some of them make use of us. They pay us to do their dirty work for them. We’ve learnt to live side by side!”
“And you want me to join you?” Alex put down his knife and fork, although he hadn’t finished eating. “I’m not like you. I’m not like that at all.”
“How strange. Your father was.”
That hurt. She was talking about a man he had never had a chance to know. But her words cut straight to the heart of who and what he was.
“Alex, you have to grow up a little bit and stop seeing things in black and white. You work for MI6. Do you think of them as the good guys, the ones in white hats? I suppose that makes me the bad guy. Maybe I should be sitting here in a wheelchair with a bald head and a scar down my face, stroking a cat.” She laughed at the thought. “Unfortunately it’s not as simple as that any more. Not in the twenty-first century. Think about Alan Blunt for a minute. Quite apart from the number of people he’s had killed around the world, look at the way he’s used you, for heaven’s sake! Did he ask nicely before he pulled you out of school and turned you into a spy? I don’t think so! You’ve been exploited, Alex, and you know it.”
“I’m not a killer,” Alex protested. “I never could be.”
“It’s very strange that you should say that. I mean, I don’t notice Damian Cray at the next table. I wonder what happened to him? Or how about that nice Dr Grief? I understand he didn’t survive his last meeting with you.”
“They were accidents.”
“You seem to have had an awful lot of accidents in the last few months.”
She paused. When she spoke again her voice was softer, like a teacher talking to a favourite pupil.
“I can see you’re still upset about Dr Liebermann,” she said. “Well, let me reassure you. He wasn’t a nice man and I don’t think anybody’s going to miss him. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if his wife didn’t send us a thank-you card.” She smiled as if at some private joke. “You could say his death was a shot in the arm for us all. And you have to remember, Alex. It was his choice. If he hadn’t lied and cheated his company and come to work for us, he would still be alive. It wasn’t all our fault.”
“Of course it was your fault. You killed him!”
“Well, yes. I suppose that’s true. But we’re a very large international business. And sometimes it does happen that people get in our way and they end up dead. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.”
A waiter came and took away the plates. Alex finished his orange juice, hoping the ice would help clear his head.
“I still can’t join Scorpia,” he said.
“Why not?”
“I have to go back to school.”
“I agree.” Mrs Rothman leant towards him. “We have a school; I want to send you there. It’s just that our school will teach you things that you might find a little more useful than logarithms and English grammar.”
“What sort of things?”
“How to kill. You say you could never do it, but how can you be sure? If you go to Malagosto, you’ll find out.
Nile was a star student there; he’s a perfect
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