Crocodile Tears

gently, afraid that she would hurt him. Then she sat down beside the bed.
    “ How are you feeling?” she asked.
    “ Terrible.”
    “ As terrible as you look?”

    “ Probably.” Alex put down the magazine, and Jack saw that even this movement made him wince.
    “They’ve taken me off painkillers,” he explained. “They say they don’t want me to get addicted to them.”
    “ Oh, Alex …” Jack’s voice caught in her throat. She had been determined not to cry in front of him, but she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes.
    “ I’m fine,” Alex said. “I’m already much better than I was a week ago.” In fact, Alex had spent ten days in the hospital in Nairobi before MI6 had flown him home.
    “ I wanted to come out and see you.”
    “ I’m glad you didn’t.”
    Jack understood. If he looked this bad now, she could hardly imagine what he must have looked like then. He wouldn’t have wanted her to see him like that.
    “ Are you angry with me?” Alex asked.
    “ Of course not. I’m just relieved to see you. After you went missing, I was …” Jack stopped herself.
    “When can you come home?” she asked.
    “ I was talking to the nurse just now. She says that if all goes well, it should only be a couple of days.
    Tuesday. Wednesday at the latest.”
    “ Well, thank goodness for that,” Jack said. “You know what Thursday is.”
    “ No.” Alex had no idea.

    “ Alex!” Jack stared at him.
    “ Tell me …”
    “ Thursday, February thirteenth. It’s your birthday, Alex. You’re going to be fifteen.”
    “ Am I?” Alex laughed. “So, what are you going to buy me?”
    “ What do you want?”
    “ I want to go home. I want peace and quiet. And I want that new version of Assassin’s Creed … it’s just come out on PlayStation.”
    “ I’m not sure those violent computer games are good for you, Alex.”
    Jack didn’t tell him that she had already bought it and that a few of his closest friends were waiting for her call, hoping to come around.
    Surely MI6 would leave him alone now. They had stolen almost a whole year of his life. But never again. Jack made herself that promise.
    In front of her, Alex settled back into the pillows. His eyes were closed and even as she watched, he smiled and fell asleep.
    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
    IT’S ALWAYS AMAZING how many people are willing to help me, giving up their time and opening doors that might otherwise stay closed—and it seems only right to name them here. I try to make the Alex Rider books as realistic as I can, and it simply wouldn’t be possible without them.

    So to start at the beginning, Martin Pearce and Colin Tucker from British Energy showed me around the Size-well B nuclear power station in Suffolk. I’m assured that security there is rather tighter than it was at Jowada. I then visited the John Innes Center, which is part of the Norwich BioScience Institutes (and bears no resemblance at all to the Greenfields Center in this story). I was given an extensive tour by Dr. Wendy Harwood and Dr. Penny Sparrow, and they very kindly explained the principles of GM
    technology and demonstrated the gene gun that I describe in Chapter 13. I owe a special debt of thanks to Dr. Hugh Martin, a principal lecturer at the Royal Agricultural College, who first suggested to me the method by which Desmond McCain poisons the crops in Kenya.
    Jonathan Hinks, who is the chairman of the British Dam Society, introduced me to the concept of the double curvature arch dam and arranged for me to see one. I spent a very pleasant day in Scotland with Kenny Demp ster, from Scottish and Southern Energy, who gave me an extensive tour of the Monar Dam (the only double arch dam in the UK), located in the very beautiful Glen Strathfarrar.
    Lea Sherwood, the brilliant stunt arranger who appeared in the film of Stormbreaker , assured me that Alex’s escape in Chapter 23 would have been possible, but perhaps you shouldn’t try it at home. The Gaelic translation in Chapter 2 was provided by Dr. Robert Dunbar at the University of Aberdeen. And I owe an apology to Professor Robin Smith from London Imperial College, who gave me a lengthy lesson in physics that sadly didn’t make it to the final draft.
    As always, I have relied on the guidance and advice of my three editors: Jane Winterbotham and Chris Kloet at Walker Books and Michael Green in New York. Also in New York, Don Weisberg and the rest of the Philomel team moved mountains to make publication possible. My