Point Blanc (9 page)

Perhaps his
desperation managed to communicate itself to the horse's brain. The
animal wheeled around and tried to back away, but when Alex kicked with his
heels, it stumbled forward and reluctantly entered the darkness of the tunnel
for a second time. Alex kicked again. He didn't want to hurt it, but he
could think of no other way to make it obey him.

The horse
trotted on. Alex searched ahead. "Fiona!" he called out. There was
no reply. He had hoped that she would be walking toward him, but he
couldn't hear any footsteps. If only there were more light!

The horse
stopped and there she was, right in front of him, lying on the ground, her arms
and chest actually on the line. If a train came now, it would cut her in half.
It was too dark to see her face, but when she spoke he heard the pain in her
voice.

"Alex...,"
she said. "I think I've broken my ankle."

"What
happened?"

"There
was a cobweb or something. I was trying to keep up with you. It went in my face
and I lost my balance."

She'd
been trying to keep up with him! She almost sounded as if she were blaming
him--as if she had forgotten that she was the one who had whipped his
horse on in the first place.

"Can
you get up?" Alex asked.

"I
don't think so."

Alex sighed.
Keeping a tight hold on the reins, he slid off his horse. Fiona had fallen
right in the middle of the tunnel. He forced himself not to panic. If what she
had told him was true, the next train must still be at least ten minutes away.

He reached down
to help her up. His foot came to rest on one of the rails ...

... and
he felt something. Under his foot. Shivering up his leg. The track was
vibrating.

The train was
on its way.

"You've
got to stand up," he said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. He
could already see the train in his imagination, thundering along the line. When
it plunged into the tunnel, it would be a five-hundred-ton torpedo that would
smash them to pieces. He could hear the grinding of the wheels, the roar of the
engines. Blood and darkness. It would be a horrible way to die.

But he still
had time.

"Can
you move your toes?" he asked.

"I
think so." Fiona was clutching him.

"Then
your ankle's probably sprained, not broken. Come on."

He dragged
her up, wondering if it would be possible to stay inside the tunnel, on the
edge of the track. If they hugged the wall, the train might simply go past
them. But Alex knew there wouldn't be enough space. And even if the train
missed them, it would still hit the horse. Suppose it derailed? Dozens of
people could be killed.

"What
train comes this way?" he asked. "Does it carry passengers?"

"Yes."
Fiona was sounding tearful. "It's a Virgin train. Heading up to
Glasgow."

Alex sighed. It
was just his luck to get the only Virgin train ever to arrive on time.

Fiona froze.
"What's that?" she asked.

She had heard
the clanging of a bell. The gate crossing! It was signaling the approach of the
train, the barrier lowering itself over the road.

And then Alex
heard a second sound that made his blood run cold. For a moment he
couldn't breathe. It was extraordinary. His breath was stuck in his lungs
and refused to get up to his mouth. His whole body was paralyzed as if some
switch had been thrown in his brain. He was simply terrified.

The screech
of a train whistle. It was still a mile or more away, but the tunnel was acting
as a sound conductor and he could feel it cutting into him. And then another
sound: the rolling thunder of the diesel engine. It was moving fast toward
them. Underneath his foot, the rail vibrated more violently.

Alex gulped
for air and forced his legs to obey him. "Get on the horse," he
shouted. "I'll help you."

Not caring
how much pain he caused her, he dragged Fiona next to the horse and forced her
up onto the saddle. The noise grew louder with every second that passed. The
rail was humming softly, like a giant tuning fork. The very air inside the
tunnel seemed to be in motion, spinning left and right as if trying to get out of
the way.

Fiona
squealed and Alex felt her weight leave his arms as she fell onto the saddle.
The horse whinnied and took a half step sideways, and for a dreadful moment
Alex thought she was going to ride off without him. There was just enough light
to make out the shapes of both the animal and its rider.

He saw Fiona
grabbing the reins. She brought it back under control. Alex reached up and
caught hold of the horse's mane. He used the thick hair to pull himself
onto the saddle, in front of Fiona. The noise of the train was getting louder
and louder. Soot and loose concrete were trickling out of the curving walls.
The wind currents were twisting faster, the rails singing. For a moment the two
of them were tangled together, but then he had the reins and she was clinging
on to him, her arms around his chest.

"Go!"
he shouted and kicked the horse.

The horse
needed no encouragement. It raced for the light, galloping up the railway line,
throwing Alex and Fiona back and forward, into each other.

Alex
didn't dare look behind him, but he felt the train as it reached the
mouth of the tunnel and plunged in, traveling at 105 miles per hour. A shock
wave hammered into them. The train was punching the air out of its way, filling
the space with solid steel. The horse understood the danger and burst forward
with new speed, its hooves flying over the ties in great strides. Ahead of them
the tunnel mouth opened up, but Alex knew, with a sickening sense of despair,
that they weren't going to make it. Even when they got out of the tunnel,
they would still be hemmed in by the sides of the bridge. The second gate
crossing was a hundred yards farther down the line. They might get out but they
would die in the open air.

The horse
passed through the end of the tunnel. Alex felt the circle of darkness slip
over his shoulders. Fiona was screaming, her arms wrapped around him so tightly
that he could barely breathe. He could hardly hear her. The roar of the train
was right behind him, and as the horse began a desperate race over the bridge,
he sneaked a glance around. He just had time to see the huge, metallic beast
roar out of the tunnel, towering over them, its body painted the brilliant red
of the Virgin colors, the driver staring in horror from behind his window.
There was a second blast from the train whistle, this one all-consuming,
exploding all around them. Alex knew what he had to do. He pulled on one rein,
at the same time kicking with the opposite foot. He just had to hope the horse
would understand what he wanted.

And somehow
it worked. The horse veered around. Now it was facing the side of the bridge.
There was a final, deafening blast from the train. Diesel fumes smothered them.
Alex kicked again with all his strength. The horse jumped.

The train
roared past, missing them by inches. But now they were in the air, over the
side of the bridge. The railcars were still thundering past, a red blur. Fiona
screamed a second time. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as
they fell. One moment they were next to the bridge, a moment later underneath
it and still falling. The green river rose up to receive them.

The horse
with its two riders plummeted through the air and crashed into the river. Alex
just had time to snatch a breath. He was afraid that the water wouldn't
be deep enough, that all three of them would end up with broken necks. But they
hit the surface and passed through, down into a freezing, dark green whirlpool
that sucked at them greedily, threatening to keep them there forever. Fiona was
torn away from him. He felt the horse kick itself free. Bubbles exploded out of
his mouth and he realized he was yelling.

Finally, Alex
rose to the surface again. The water was rushing past and, dragged back by his
clothes and shoes, he clumsily swam for the nearest bank.

The train driver
hadn't stopped. Perhaps he had been too frightened by what had happened.
Perhaps he wanted to pretend it hadn't happened at all. Either way, the
train had gone. Alex reached the bank and pulled himself, shivering, onto the
grass. There was a splutter and a cough from behind him, and Fiona appeared.
She had lost her riding hat, and her long black hair was hanging over her face.
Alex looked past her. The horse had also managed to reach dry land. It trotted
forward and shook itself, seemingly unharmed. Alex was glad about that. When
all was said and done, the horse had saved both their lives.

He stood up.
Water dripped out of his clothes. There was no feeling anywhere in his body. He
wondered whether it was because of the cold water or the shock of what he had
just been through. He went over to Fiona and helped her to her feet.

"Are
you all right?" he asked.

"Yes."
She was looking at him strangely. She wobbled, and he put out a hand to steady
her. "Thank you," she said.

"That's
all right."

"No."
She held on to his hand. Her shirt had fallen open and she threw back her head,
shaking the hair out of her eyes. "What you did back there ... it was
fantastic. Alex, I'm sorry I've been so awful to you all week. I
thought--because you were here only for charity and all the rest of
it--I thought you were just an oik. But I was wrong about you.
You're really great. And I know we're going to be friends
now." She half closed her eyes and moved toward him, her lips slightly
parted. "You can kiss me if you like," she said.

Alex let go
of her and turned away. "Thanks, Fiona," he said. "But
frankly I'd prefer to kiss the horse."

THE
HELICOPTER CIRCLED twice over Haverstock Hall before beginning its descent. It
was a Robinson R44, fourseater aircraft, American built. There was only one
person--the pilot--inside. Sir David Friend had returned from London,
and he and his wife came outside to watch it land in front of the house. The
engine noise died down and the rotors began to slow. The cabin door slid open,
and the pilot got out, dressed in a one-piece leather flying suit, helmet, and
goggles.

The pilot
walked up to them, extending a hand. "Good morning," she shouted
over the noise of the rotors. "I'm Mrs. Stellenbosch. From the
academy..."

If Sir David
and Lady Caroline had been thrown by their first sight of Alex, the appearance
of the assistant director left them frozen to the spot. Sir David was the first
to recover. "You flew the helicopter yourself?"

"Yes
... I'm qualified," Mrs. Stellenbosch answered.

"Would
you like to come in?" Lady Caroline said. "Perhaps you'd like
some tea."

She led them
into the house and into the living room, where Mrs. Stellenbosch sat, legs
apart, her helmet on the sofa beside her. Sir David and Lady Caroline sat
opposite her. Tea had been brought in on a tray.

"Do you
mind if I smoke?" Mrs. Stellenbosch asked.

She reached
into a pocket and took out a small packet of cigars without waiting for an
answer. She lit one and blew smoke. "What a very beautiful house you
have, Sir David. Georgian, I would say, but decorated with such taste! And
where, may I ask, is Alex?"

"He
went for a walk," Sir David said.

"Perhaps
he's a little nervous." She smiled again and took the teacup Lady
Caroline had proffered. "I understand that Alex has been a great source
of concern to you."

Sir David
Friend nodded. His eyes gave nothing away. For the next few minutes, he told
Mrs. Stellenbosch about Alex, how he had been expelled from Eton, how out
of control he had become. Lady Caroline listened to all this in silence,
occasionally holding her husband's arm.

"I'm
at my wit's end," Sir David concluded. "We have an older
daughter, and she's perfectly delightful. But Alex'? He hangs
around the house. He doesn't read. He doesn't show any interest in
anything. His appearance ... well, you'll see for yourself. The Point
Blanc Academy is our last resort, Mrs. Stellenbosch. We're
desperately hoping you can straighten him out."

The assistant
director poked at the air with her cigar, leaving a gray trail.
"I'm sure you've been a marvelous father, Sir David,"
she purred. "But these modern children! It's heartbreaking the way
some of them behave. You've done the right thing, coming to us. As
I'm sure you know, the academy has had a remarkable success rate over the
years."

"What
exactly do you do?" Lady Caroline asked.

"We
have our methods." The woman's eyes twinkled.

She tapped
ash into her saucer. "But I can promise you, we'll straighten out
all his problems. Don't you worry! When he comes home, he'll be a
completely different boy."

Alex had
reached the edge of a field about a half mile from the house. He had seen the
helicopter land and knew that his time had come. But he wasn't ready yet
to leave. Mrs. Jones had telephoned him the night before. Once again, MI6
wasn't going to send him empty-handed into what might be enemy territory.