Scorpia

prime minister has cut short his visit to Mexico,” Kellner muttered. “He’s flying home as we speak. You don’t get much more serious than that!”
    “I’m sure we’re all grateful to the prime minister for interrupting his conference,” Sir Graham retorted drily.
    “But I would have said it’s the aircraft carrying these football players that we should be considering. I’ve also spoken to British Airways. Flight 0074 was delayed in Lagos earlier today and only left this afternoon, just before half past twelve our time. It should be touching down at Heathrow at five past seven, just like the letter says. And the England reserve football squad are on board.”
    “So what are you suggesting we do?” Kellner demanded.
    “It’s very simple. The threat to the plane is at Heathrow. Scorpia’s helped us at least by giving us the place and the time. We must therefore re-route the plane at once. It can land at Birmingham or Manchester. Our first priority is to make sure the players are safe.”
    “I’m afraid I don’t agree.”

    Sir Graham Adair glanced at the director of communications, his eyes filled with an icy contempt. He had spoken at length with Alan Blunt. Both of them had been expecting this.
    “Let me tell you my way of thinking,” Kellner continued. He held his two index fingers in the air, as if to frame what he had to say. “I know you’re scared of Scorpia; you’ve made that much clear. Well, I’ve read their demands and personally I think they’re a bunch of idiots. But either way, they’ve given us a chance to call their bluff. Redirecting this football team is the last thing we want to do. We can use the arrival of the plane to test this so-called Invisible Sword. And by sixteen minutes past seven we’ll know it doesn’t exist and we can put Scorpia’s letter where it deserves to be—in the bin!”
    “You’re willing to risk the lives of the players?”
    “There is no risk. We’ll throw a security blanket around Heathrow Airport, making it impossible for anyone to get near them. The letter states that the players are going to be hit at exactly seven fifteen. We can find out exactly who’s on the plane. Then we can make sure that there are a hundred armed soldiers surrounding it when it lands. Scorpia can bring out their weapon and we’ll see exactly what it is and how it works. Anyone tries to set foot in the airport, we’ll arrest them and throw them in jail. End of story; end of threat.”
    “And how are you going to put a hundred extra armed guards into Heathrow Airport?” Sir Graham asked.
    “You’ll start a national panic.”
    Kellner grinned. “You think I can’t make up some sort of spin to take care of that? I’ll say it’s a training exercise. Nobody’ll even blink.”
    The permanent secretary sighed. There were times when he wondered if he wasn’t getting too old for this sort of work—and this was definitely one of them. There remained one final question. But he already knew the answer.
    “Have you put this to the prime minister?” he asked.
    “Yes. While you were speaking to MI6, I was talking to him. And he agrees with me. So I’m afraid on this matter you’re overruled, Sir Graham.”
    “He’s aware of the risks?”
    “We don’t believe there are any risks, actually. But it’s really very simple. If we don’t act now, we’ll lose the chance to see this weapon in action. If we do this my way, we force Scorpia to show their hand.”
    Sir Graham Adair stood up. “There doesn’t seem to be anything more to discuss,” he said.
    “You’d better get on to MI6.”
    “Of course.” Sir Graham moved to the door. He stopped and turned round. “And what happens if you’re wrong?” he enquired. “What happens if these players do somehow get killed?”
    Kellner shrugged. “At least we’ll know what we’re dealing with,” he said. “And they lost every single one of their games while they were in Nigeria. I’m sure we can put together another team.”

    The plane landing at Heathrow was a Boeing 747—flight number BA 0074 from Lagos. It had been in the air for six hours and thirty-five minutes. It had departed late. There had been a seemingly endless delay in Lagos: some sort of technical fault. Scorpia had arranged that, of course. It was important the plane followed the schedule that they had imposed. It had to land by five past seven. In fact it hit the runway at five minutes to.
    The eighteen members of the football squad