• A well placed kick to the temple? Grab the steering wheel? Open the door and jump? These thoughts and others raced through Alex’s mind as they flew down the streets of London. He desperately wanted to get back to the café. If Tom was hurt, then it was his fault. After all, they had jumped through the window right next to the bomb. Even though the big guy—Butler—had pulled them into the kitchen, the plaster and cement and glass had landed on them. But Alex didn’t attempt escape. He wasn’t willing to risk getting pumped full of holes by the giant’s Sig Sauer. He would just have to wait it out. He flexed his left hand, and winced. At least two bones were broken. And the boy in the backseat had smiled when he had reacted to pain. Who was that boy? He was younger than alex, yet employed this huge man, and was obviously very smart. Just his vocabulary was evidence enough of that. Alex stared out the window, and he suddenly realized where they were: the Kingsway Hall Hotel. So this is where they were staying. They were only about three kilometers from M16 headquarters. If he could somehow get out of the hotel, he could get to the Royal and General building, tell Mrs. Jones about the bomb, and be safe. That is, if he could get out of the hotel. Butler pulled into the line for valet parking and got out, handing the keys to the young man that had run up. Butler then went around to the passenger side, opened the boy’s door, then let Alex out. They then went into the hotel. Alex was sure he looked awful, but nobody gave him a second look. He was with paying guests. Nobody would look at him. It wasn’t their business if their guests came back with somebody who looked as if he had dove headfirst into a vat of glass and flour. The room was on the 16th floor. Room 1604.

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