Ark Angel (9 page)

Behind him, Jack Starbright stepped out of the ordinary London taxi that had brought them here. At first she had been a little disgruntled. “So what happened to the Rolls-Royce?” she wondered out loud. But in the end she agreed that Drevin had made the right decision. The last thing either of them wanted was to make a grand entrance.

They walked into a foyer where everything seemed to be white or made of glass. A young woman was waiting there to greet them.

“Hi,” she said. “You must be Alex Rider and Jack Starbright. Mr Drevin asked me to look out for you.“ She spoke with an American accent. ”My name’s Tamara Knight. I’m Mr Drevin’s personal assistant.”

Alex cast an eye over her as they shook hands. Tamara Knight was twenty-five, although she looked much younger. She was not much taller than he was, with light brown hair tied back, and attractive blue eyes.

Alex felt that the formal business suit and brightly polished leather shoes didn’t suit her. He also wished she’d smile a bit more. She didn’t look at all pleased to see him.

“Mr Drevin is still tied up with his press conference,” she explained as she led them across the central atrium of the hotel. Silver and glass lifts rose and fell around them, travelling silently on hidden cables. A group of Japanese businessmen walked across the marble floor. “He said you were welcome to look in if you wanted to. Or you can wait for him in his private suite.”

“I’d like to know what a suite costs here,” Jack muttered.

Tamara Knight smiled coldly. “It doesn’t cost Mr Drevin anything. He owns the hotel.”

“Let’s take a look at the press conference,” Alex said.

“Of course. He’s talking about Ark Angel. I’m sure you’ll find it interesting.”

She led them up a wide flight of stairs and along a corridor until they came to a pair of smoked glass doors.

Two large men in suits were guarding this entrance. “We’ll slip in at the back,” Tamara whispered. “Just take a seat. Nobody will notice you.”

She nodded and one of the men opened the doors.

Alex went through and found himself in a wide, imposing room with large windows giving a panoramic view of the river. There were about a hundred journalists sitting in rows facing a long table on a platform.

The words ARK ANGEL had been spelled out in solid steel letters, each one two metres high, and there were photographs of the earth, taken from space, suspended on thin wires. Three people were seated behind the table. One was the minister for science and innovation. The other looked like some sort of civil servant. Alex didn’t recognize him. The man in the middle was Nikolei Drevin.

Drevin was unimpressive. That was Alex’s first thought. If he’d bumped into him in the street he might have mistaken him for a bank manager or an accountant. Drevin was a serious-looking man in his forties with watery, grey eyes and hair that had once been fair but was now fading to grey. He had bad skin; there was a rash around his chin and neck as if he’d had trouble shaving. All his clothes—his suit, his shirt with its buttoned-down collar, the plain silk tie—looked brand new and expensive. But they did nothing for him. He wore them with as much style as a mannequin in a shop window. Alex noticed a gold watch on one hand. There was a ring made of platinum or white gold on the other.

Drevin seemed dwarfed by his surroundings. He was physically smaller than the two men who were sharing the platform with him. The minister had been answering a question when Alex came in. Drevin was fidgeting nervously, twisting the ring on his finger. Tamara gestured to a seat and Alex sat down. The minister finished talking and the other man looked around for another question.

One of the journalists raised a hand. “I understand that Ark Angel is now two months behind schedule and three hundred million dollars over budget,” he said. “I’d like to ask Mr Drevin if he now regrets getting involved.”

“You are mistaken,” Drevin replied, and at once Alex could hear the accent in his voice. It was more pronounced than his son’s had been. He spoke slowly, accentuating each word. “Ark Angel is actually three hundred million pounds over budget. This is a British project, you must remember.” There was a murmur of laughter around the room. Drevin shrugged. “Some difficulties were to be expected,” he went on. “This is the most ambitious building project of the twenty-first century. A fully functioning hotel in space! But do I regret it? Of course not. What we are talking about is the beginning of space tourism, the greatest adventure of our lifetime. A hundred years from now, it will not only be possible to travel to the edge of the universe, it will be cheap! Maybe one day your great-grandchildren will walk on the moon. And they will remember that it all began with Ark Angel. It all began here.”

Another hand went up. “How is your son? Does it concern you that the people who tried to kidnap him are still at large?”

Jack nudged Alex. They had arrived at the right time.

“I do not normally speak about my family,” Drevin replied. “But I will say this. These people—Force Three

—claim they are fighting for the environment. It is true that the wildlife on Flamingo Bay was disturbed when we launched our first rockets, and I very much regret that. But I have only contempt for these people.

They tried to extort money from me. They are common criminals and I have every confidence that the British or European police will soon bring them to justice.”

“Absolutely!” agreed the minister.

“We have time for just one more question,” the second man said.

A bearded man sitting in the front row raised a nicotine-stained finger. “I have a question,” he said. “I’ve heard rumours that the federal government of the United States is currently investigating Mr Drevin.

Apparently they’re looking into certain financial irregularities. Is there any truth in that?”

“Mr Drevin is not here to answer questions about his personal affairs.” The civil servant scowled and the minister nodded.

Drevin cut in. “It’s all right.” He didn’t seem concerned. He looked the journalist straight in the eye. “I am a businessman,” he said. “I am, you might agree, a fairly successful businessman.” That produced a few smiles. Everyone in the room was aware that they were being addressed by one of the richest people in the world. “It is absolutely true that the CIA are looking into my affairs. It would be surprising if they weren’t.

It’s their job. But…”—he spread his hands—“I have nothing to hide; indeed, I am willing to offer them my full cooperation.” He paused. “It is possible that they will find some irregularities. I went out to lunch last week and forgot to keep the receipt. If they decide to prosecute me because of it, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

This time there was real laughter and even a scattering of applause. The man with the beard blushed and buried himself in his notebook. The other journalists stood up and began to file out. The press conference was over.

“He’s such a brilliant speaker,” Tamara Knight said, and Alex couldn’t doubt the enthusiasm in her voice.

She led Alex and Jack back the way they’d come, then across the atrium and over to one of the lifts. Once inside, she produced a key. The building had twenty-five storeys; the key activated the button for the top floor.

The doors closed and they were whisked upwards at speed. Alex felt his stomach sink as the atrium disappeared beneath them. Twenty floors up, the lift entered a solid shaft and the view was blocked.

Another few seconds and they slowed down. The lift stopped and the doors slid open.

They had arrived.

They were in a huge room with windows on two sides giving breathtaking views over St Katharine’s Dock, the yachts and cruisers resting at their moorings far below. Tower Bridge was close by. It looked unreal, a toy replica, sitting in the afternoon sun. Alex looked around him. The room was simply but expensively furnished with three Persian rugs spread over light wood floorboards. The furniture was modern. On one side stood a dining-room table with a dozen leather chairs. A corridor ran past a black Bechstein grand piano to a closed door at the end. There was a sunken area in the middle of the room with three oversized sofas and a glass coffee table. Tea—sandwiches and biscuits—had already been served.

“Quite a place!” Jack said.

“This is where Mr Drevin stays when he’s in London.” Tamara Knight pointed out of one window. “You see the boat third from the left? The Crimean Star. That belongs to him too.”

Jack gasped. The vessel was gleaming white, the size of a small ocean liner. “Have you been on board?” she asked.

“Certainly not. My work with Mr Drevin doesn’t allow me to enter his private quarters,” she explained primly.

Just then the door at the end of the corridor opened and Nikolei Drevin came in. It occurred to Alex that there must be a second lift, bringing him up to another part of the penthouse. He was alone, hands clasped in front of him, his fingers tugging at the ring. “Thank you very much, Miss Knight,” he said. “You can leave us now.”

“Yes, Mr Drevin.”

“Have you made the arrangements for Saturday?”

“I’ve left the file on your desk, Mr Drevin.”

“Good. I’ll talk with you later.” Tamara Knight nodded at Alex. “It was good to meet you,” she said—but without a lot of enthusiasm. Then she turned and walked back into the lift. The doors closed and she was gone.

For the first time, Nikolei Drevin seemed to relax. He walked up to Alex and rested a hand on each shoulder, and for a second Alex wondered if he was going to kiss him. Instead Drevin held him firmly in what was almost an embrace. “You’re Alex Rider,” he said. “I am very, very happy to meet you.” He let Alex go and turned to Jack. “Miss Starbright.” He shook hands with her. “I am so glad you were able to come. Please, will you sit down?” He led them to the sofas and picked up the teapot. “Tea?” he asked.

“Thank you.”

Nobody spoke while he poured. At last he sat back and studied his two guests. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am, Alex,” he said. “Although I hope you will permit me to try. You quite possibly saved my son’s life. Certainly you saved him from a terrible ordeal. I am very much in your debt.”

“How is he?” Alex asked.

“Paul is well, thank you. Please, help yourself…”

Jack took a sandwich but Alex wasn’t hungry. He was feeling a little uncomfortable being this close to Drevin. The man was only a few inches taller than he was, and still seemed very ordinary. And yet he radiated power. It was the same with all the rich people Alex had met. Their money, the billions of pounds in their bank accounts, spoke before they did.

“I should be asking how you are, Alex,” Drevin went on. “I understand you were recovering from a chest injury. A bike accident?”

“Yes.” Alex hated lying but that was the story that had been agreed.

“Alex is very accident-prone,” Jack muttered, holding up her sandwich.

“Well, it was very lucky for me that you should end up in the room next to Paul. I still find it hard to believe that you acted the way you did. But let me get straight to the point. I am sure you know who I am. I don’t seek attention, but the papers like to write about me, especially when my team loses. I am a very wealthy man. If there is anything that you want in the world, Alex, I can give it to you. I don’t say this as a boast. I mean it. You have done me a great service and I would like to repay you.”

Alex thought for a moment. “There’s nothing I really want, thank you,” he said. “I’m glad I was able to help your son. But it just sort of happened. I don’t need any reward.”

Drevin nodded. “I had a feeling you might say that, and I’m afraid I can’t accept it as an answer. So I would like to make a proposition.” He paused. “I spoke to your doctor this morning. Dr Hayward. You might like to know that I have made a donation of two million pounds on your behalf towards a new cardiology wing at St Dominic’s.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Alex said. “So long as they don’t name it after me.”

Drevin smiled. “Don’t worry! Dr Hayward tells me that you must not return to school for a couple of weeks. What I would like to propose is that you come and stay with me, as my guest. I’d be very glad to look after you while you recuperate. I employ a full-time medical staff, so you will be in safe hands if any complications should arise. More to the point, my chef is world class. Everything you want will be given to you. Miss Starbright is also very welcome.”

“I’m not sure—” Alex began. “Please, Alex!” Drevin interrupted. “There’s something I haven’t mentioned.

My son, Paul. He’s almost your age and he told me that you spoke together a few times in hospital. I know he would welcome your company. Paul doesn’t meet many other boys—that’s largely my fault. I’m afraid for him. There’s always the danger that someone will try to get at me through him. What happened at St Dominic’s is proof of that. He met you and liked you, and it would be good for him to have someone else around for a while. You’d be doing me a favour if you agreed to come.”

He paused. Alex felt the grey eyes examining him.

“I want to offer you two weeks with more luxury than you have ever known in your life. We’ll start here in England. I can’t leave until the weekend; I have business and, more importantly, we’re playing Chelsea on Saturday and I can’t miss that. After that I’m flying to New York. I have an apartment there, and again there is some business I have to take care of. You see? Paul is always on his own.”

He put down his cup and leant forward. Although his tone hadn’t changed, Alex could sense his energy and excitement.

“But in just over a week’s time, there’s something you really can’t miss. We have a launch at Flamingo Bay.

Have you ever seen a rocket being fired? It’s an unforgettable experience. If the weather’s right, it’ll blast off at exactly nine o’clock local time on Wednesday morning. It’ll be carrying the observation module for Ark Angel. It’s taken us three years to build. It will be the very heart of Ark Angel; the communications centre, a window like no other window in the world. Paul will, of course, be there, and I want you to be there with him. I have a house on the island and the beaches are spectacular. After the launch, you can stay for as long as you like.”