Alex Rider--Secret Weapon

by Anthony Horowitz

  “We take security here very seriously,” Nurse Wendy exclaimed. She could see what was in Alex’s mind.

  “There’s no way out,” Alex muttered.

  “There’s no way in. We’re only thinking of your safety.”

  “Why would I be in any danger?”

  “You’re a spy, Alex, my dear. You have enemies. We still don’t know if the road accident really was as innocent as it seemed. We’re still investigating. And until we find out for sure, we have to look after you.”

  As if on cue, one of the two guards walked over to them, leaving the other man and the dog behind. As he drew closer, Alex saw that he was very muscular, black, in his thirties, with a snub nose that seemed to have been pushed into his face and black, greasy hair sweeping down over his eyes. There was a wire running behind his ear, connected to a radio receiver and a throat mike.

  “This is Karl, our head of security,” the nurse said.

  The man nodded. “Good to meet you, kid.” He had a rough London accent and the sort of voice that sounded permanently angry, on the edge of violence. “I’m sure you want to explore,” he went on. “But there are a few things you need to remember. Never come out here at night. Brutus will be loose in the grounds and he can be vicious.”

  “Is Brutus your friend?” Alex asked, gesturing at the other man.

  “No. His name’s Vaudrey. Brutus is the dog. You upset him, he’ll rip your legs off. And he’s easily upset.”

  “Right.”

  “Another thing. You don’t want to touch the fence. You hear that buzzing sound? I’m sure I don’t need to tell you it’s electrified, kid. There are ten thousand volts running through it. You even put a finger on it, you can say good-bye to your arm. You try and climb it, there won’t be enough of you left to bury.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Alex said. He disliked everything about the security man, particularly the way he kept on calling him kid.

  “We have half a dozen guards working here, including me and Vaudrey, and we’ve all been instructed to shoot on sight.” Karl smiled unpleasantly. “Don’t come out at night. I’d be very upset if there was an accident.”

  “I’d be upset too,” Alex agreed.

  “Let’s walk around the back,” Nurse Wendy suggested. “I’ll show you the tennis court and the lake.”

  Alex was about to follow her when a strange whirring sound made him look up. At first he thought he’d imagined it, but then he saw something small and black hovering above him, silhouetted against the sky. It still took him a moment to work out what it was. A drone!

  “Don’t worry about that, kid,” Karl grunted. “That’s also part of our security. We call it the Crow. It’s a radar detection system and real-time spectrum analyzer. It’s equipped with a high-resolution thermographic camera and gives us three-hundred-sixty-degree views of the surrounding area, day and night. It’s controlled from the security center up in the tower.”

  “Also for my safety?” Alex asked.

  “Why else?”

  Guard dogs. Guns. Drones. Searchlights. An electrified fence. So why didn’t Alex feel safe?

  Over the next thirty minutes, Alex got a good idea of the layout of his new home looking for any weaknesses, anything that might offer him a way of escape. Bellhanger Abbey looked huge from the outside, mainly because of the grounds that surrounded it and the single tower that rose up high above it. That was where the bells that gave the place its name would once have been located, but now it was partly ruined. It had been rebuilt with modern plate glass and new bricks, which showed where Karl’s security center had been constructed. They passed a tennis court and a croquet lawn, but as they continued around the back of the building, Alex’s eye was drawn to the lake that he had glimpsed when he first woke up. It had to be at least half a mile wide. There was a wooden jetty stretching over the water with a wooden dinghy bobbing beside it. An old hoist, a sort of miniature crane used for loading and unloading supplies, stood at the end.

  “What’s the dinghy for?” Alex asked.

  “Dr. Feng likes to go fishing.” The nurse sighed. “Unfortunately, all the fish in the lake are either poisonous or inedible.”

  Somehow, Alex wasn’t surprised.

  There was a door at the back of the building that led into a common room that Nurse Wendy had mentioned. Sure enough, there were several fishing rods leaning against the wall, as well as ancient fish, stuffed and mounted in glass cabinets. The sofas and chairs were well worn and comfortable-looking. There were newspapers scattered about and some miniature palm trees growing in pots, the sort of thing you might get in an old folks’ home. From here, they passed into a library with just a few paperbacks resting on otherwise empty shelves, a dining room with more miniature palms, a snooker room, and a TV room. There were fireplaces everywhere, but they were empty and unused, as if no one had ever thought to make a fire.

  As they made their way into the hall, Alex noticed a notebook and a pencil lying on a table, perhaps left there by one of the guards. He waited until Nurse Wendy was looking the other way, then picked them up and slipped them into his pocket. It was a small rebellion, but it made him feel good. He was beginning to fight back.

  Later that evening, after he had finished his dinner and been taken back to his room, he took out the notebook and opened it. The pages were blank, but that didn’t matter. He needed it to help him set out his thoughts. He sat down and made a list of the people he had encountered so far.

  Dr. Feng

  Wendy McDarling

  Ivan

  Karl—head of security

  Vaudrey (+ Brutus)

  Karl had said there were four other guards, but the abbey still seemed deserted. Maybe that was why it felt so creepy. From the moment he had woken up, Alex had felt completely alone. And that reminded him of something. Nurse Wendy had admitted that there was one other patient at Bellhanger Abbey. And yet, Dr. Feng had said quite clearly that there had been three people in the car when the supposed accident had taken place: Alex, a driver, and another passenger. The other two had been hurt worse than him—so why was only one of them here? That was something else that didn’t add up.

  Something was screaming at Alex inside his head. They were lying to him. He shouldn’t be here. Normally, he would have already started working on an escape plan. It didn’t matter that he was surrounded by armed guards and an electric fence and that he still had no real idea where he was. He would have found a way out. But his thoughts were scrambled. His head wasn’t working properly. It was as if he was seeing the world through a thick fog.

  He spent the rest of the evening drawing a detailed map of Bellhanger Abbey—the tower, the fence, the lake, the dinghy—putting in all the details he could remember.Some time later, he fell asleep. He hadn’t even gotten undressed.

  6

  THE CLOWN (PART 2)

  ALEX WAS AWAKE AGAIN.

  It must have been after midnight. What was this? The third day since his arrival at Bellhanger Abbey, although it felt as if he had been here for weeks. He was lying on the bed, not in it, still fully clothed. There was a crumpled piece of paper in his hand and once again he read the names, at the same time hearing voices.

  “I hope you drank your apple juice.” Dr. Feng.

  “We’re only thinking of your safety.” Nurse Wendy.

  “There won’t be enough of you left to bury.” Karl.

  Had he been drugged? How else could he explain the way he was feeling, the fact that his brain refused to function properly? Alex hated having chemicals in his system. He avoided food with too many additives and preservatives. He would never have been tempted to smoke. Now it occurred to him that he hadn’t been feeling like himself ever since the accident—and it wasn’t because of what had happened on the motorway. It was because of the treatment he had been receiving, supposedl
y to make him better.

  He looked up, and with a jolt of fear, he saw that the clown was standing in front of him once again, clearly visible in the darkness. The makeup was as hideous as before, the brilliantly colored hair and clothes fighting against each other like paint tins thrown at a wall. Alex tried to tell himself that he was asleep, that this was just a nightmare . . . but at the same time he knew that it was more than that. Something was fighting inside him. His brain was working overtime, desperately trying to make him remember what had really happened.

  Once again, he felt himself being carried forward. He heard the blast of something that might have been a car horn and a man’s voice echoing around him. “Don’t worry, Alex!” The clown opened its mouth. Alex saw yellow teeth and two dark holes that were the back of its throat. As he lay there, staring into the shadows, the mouth grew wider and wider. Now it was bigger than the head that contained it. The mouth had become the size of the room. Alex was staring into an impossible cave, hurtling toward it.

  Alex cried out. He wanted to close his eyes but he couldn’t.

  The clown swallowed him whole.

  Dr. Feng’s Office: 10:30 A.M. (Session 2)

  Subject appears tired and distracted. Eyes not fully focused. Hair untidy. Clearly has no wish to be here.

  DR. FENG: Alex, the last time we spoke, you told me how your uncle, Ian Rider, prepared you to be a spy. How were you actually recruited into MI6?

  ALEX: I don’t want to tell you.

  DR. FENG: Why not?

  ALEX: It’s classified.

  DR. FENG: You remember, then.

  ALEX: Yes.

  DR. FENG: It’s important to go over these details. I need to know that your memory is functioning properly . . . that there hasn’t been any damage as a result of the injury to your head. And as I’ve explained to you, I work for MI6 too. Have you forgotten that?

  ALEX: Why are you keeping me here? I want to leave.

  DR. FENG: Then the sooner we get through this, the sooner we can make that happen.

  A long pause. Subject trying to remain silent.

  ALEX: All right. I was recruited after Ian died. At first, they told me he had been killed in a car accident. It seems to me that MI6 tells quite a lot of lies about car accidents.

  DR. FENG: You think I’m lying to you?

  ALEX: I didn’t say that.

  DR. FENG: Go on.

  ALEX: I tried to find out how Ian had been killed and that led me to MI6. I nearly got killed myself . . . twice. The first time, I hid in a car crusher and they started it up. And then I climbed out a window to get into Ian’s office.

  DR. FENG: And what did you find?

  ALEX: Nothing. The whole thing was a waste of time. It was a test. Alan Blunt had already decided he wanted to use me.

  DR. FENG: Who is Alan Blunt?

  ALEX: He’s the chief executive of MI6 Special Operations. If you work for MI6, how come you don’t know that?

  DR. FENG: I do know that, Alex. I’m just testing your memory.

  ALEX: Alan Blunt needed someone to investigate a company called Sayle Enterprises, which had a manufacturing plant down in Cornwall. That was where they were making a brand-new computer—the Stormbreaker—and the owner, Herod Sayle, had offered to give one, free, to every school in the UK. Blunt knew there was something dodgy about him and he asked me to check him out. I went into the plant under a false name. There was a boy who had won some competition to visit the factory and I took his place.

  DR. FENG: What happened to Herod Sayle?

  ALEX: Somebody shot him. It wasn’t me. I never wanted to kill anyone. And when I was sent on my missions, I was never given any weapons, nothing that could seriously hurt someone. Mr. Blunt never let me have a gun and I was glad about that. I’m fourteen. It’s bad enough that I have to lie to all my friends about what I do. I didn’t want to be a spy and I still don’t. If they asked me to kill people, I’d refuse. I’m not sure I’d be able to live with myself if I did that.

  To be honest with you, if I had a choice, I’d walk away. A lot of the kids at my school would think it’s cool to be a spy and to have adventures and miss class and all the rest of it. But I was never given any choice. So far, I’ve been lucky, but one day I’m not going to be able to walk away. I’m going to end up in a real hospital . . . or dead.

  And what’s really sick is that if I get killed, Blunt won’t even care. He’ll be annoyed. It’ll be inconvenient. But in a way, he and Mrs. Jones are as bad as the rest of them. They’re using me the same way they’d use a gun or a hand grenade or whatever. I’m just a weapon. A secret weapon. And when the day comes that they can’t use me anymore, they’ll simply find someone else. They’ll forget about me.

  DR. FENG: I’m sure that’s not true, Alex.

  ALEX: I’m tired. I don’t want to talk anymore. I want to go back to my room.

  DR. FENG: Of course. I’ll call the nurse . . .

  Session terminated: 12:10 P.M.

  7

  APPLE JUICE

  LYING ON HIS BED, Alex thought about what had taken place.

  During the interview with Dr. Feng, Alex had been aware of two quite different thoughts, at war with each other in his head. On the one hand, he felt a need to answer every question that was thrown at him and it was quite difficult to stop talking. He actually wanted to tell the truth. But at the same time, he didn’t like the doctor and he didn’t trust him. And so, even as he was speaking, he was struggling not to give too much away. He hadn’t talked about the SAS training he’d received in the Brecon Beacons before he was sent to Cornwall. He hadn’t mentioned the fact that MI6 Special Operations were based in a building on Liverpool Street that pretended to be a bank. He hadn’t even intended to mention Alan Blunt’s name—and it was interesting that when he had come up with it, Dr. Feng hadn’t even known who he was.

  Alex was talking too much. He knew it. But at least he could control something of what he said.

  So far, he’d had two sessions in the doctor’s office. Were they really part of some sort of cure, helping Alex to sort out his memories? Or was something else going on? Sitting on his own in his room, Alex tried desperately to focus on his predicament, but it still wasn’t happening. Being at the abbey was like watching a television program where the picture is distorted and the sound is out of sync.

  It was one o’clock. Alex had demanded his watch back and he had been surprised when Nurse Wendy brought it to the room. He was still wearing the gray tracksuit he had been given, and it was as if the watch was the only part of his old identity that remained. He wondered why it hadn’t been damaged or broken. After all, the accident had supposedly destroyed his iPhone. But he decided not to ask. He was afraid they might take it away again.

  He made his way downstairs to the dining room, where Ivan would be waiting to bring him his lunch. It felt strange, sitting alone at a table big enough to house a banquet, but he had to admit that the food at Bellhanger Abbey was excellent and there was plenty of it. He certainly hadn’t lost his appetite. As he sat down, Ivan brought in steak and fries and poured him a glass of the over-sweet apple juice that accompanied every meal.

  The apple juice.

  Alex had automatically picked up the glass and had been about to drink. It was a little too warm in the abbey and he was always thirsty. But now he had second thoughts. Dr. Feng had told him that he was going to be given a course of vitamins and that it would be mixed with the juice so that there wouldn’t be any unpleasant taste. And when they had met, it had been one of the first things he had said. “I hope you drank your apple juice.” It was always there. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Exactly the same amount. Alex found himself staring at the cloudy liquid. Why did you need to add vitamins to apple juice? Wasn’t the whole point of the drink that it was full of vitamins, anyway?

  He glanced up at Ivan. The tattooed or
derly was standing at the door, watching him intently—exactly the same way that Nurse Wendy had watched him when she had given him his pills. She had almost forced him to take them the first time they met, but since then she hadn’t ever tried again. Suddenly, Alex was certain. There was something in the apple juice, and whatever it was, it wasn’t there to improve his health. There had to be a reason why he wasn’t himself, why he couldn’t think straight. He was holding it in his hand.

  He pretended to take a sip, then set the glass down.

  “Can I have some ketchup?” he asked.

  “Ketchup?” Ivan repeated the word as if he had no idea what it meant.

  Alex mimed squeezing a bottle with his hand. He was still convinced that Ivan understood what he was saying, but he didn’t mind playing along. “Ketchup! To go on the fries.”

  Ivan looked annoyed. He obviously didn’t enjoy having to act as a waiter. But he didn’t argue. He spun around on his heel and left the room, heading for the kitchen, which was somewhere on the other side of the corridor. The moment he was gone, Alex got up with the glass and looked around him. His eye fell on one of the miniature palm trees, standing in a pot in the corner. He hurried over to it and emptied the liquid into the soil.

  He just had time to return to his chair before Ivan returned, carrying a plastic bottle of the condiment. Alex was holding his glass to his lips. As Ivan came over to the table, he pretended to swallow and put the glass down contentedly. Was he imagining it, or did Ivan look relieved?

  “Thanks, Ivan,” he said.

  Ivan did not reply.

  Alex had already decided not to eat the ketchup. From now on, he wouldn’t put anything in his mouth if he thought it could be tampered with. No soups, no sauces, no juices, nothing that he couldn’t examine for himself. It might be that he was imagining all of it. Maybe Dr. Feng, Nurse Wendy, and the rest of them really were trying to help him after a bad car accident on the motorway.