Anthony Horowitz - Skeleton Key

Belinda Troy was a couple of years older than him, slim, with brown frizzy hair tumbling down to her shoulders. She was also casually dressed in a loose-fitting skirt and T-shirt, with a brightly coloured bag dangling from her shoulder and a loose string of beads around her neck. She didn’t seem to be wearing any make-up. Her lips were pressed tightly together. Not quite scowling, but still a hundred miles away from a smile. She reminded Alex of a schoolteacher… maybe one in a nursery school. Troy closed the door and sat down. Somehow she had managed to avoid looking at Alex from the moment she had entered the room. It was as if she was trying to pretend he wasn’t there.

Alex looked from one to the other. The strange thing was that despite their appearances, there was something identical about Tom Turner and Belinda Troy. It was as if they had both survived the same, bad accident. They were hard-bitten, emotionless, empty. Now he knew why the CIA needed him. If they’d tried to get these two into Skeleton Key on their own, they’d have been identified as spies before they’d even got off the plane.

“It’s nice to meet you, Alex,” Turner said in a way that made it sound quite the opposite.

“How was the flight?” Troy asked. And then, before Alex could answer. “I guess it must have been scary. Travelling on your own.”

“I had to close my eyes during take-off,” Alex said. “But I stopped trembling when we got to thirty-five thousand feet.”

“You’re scared of flying?” Turner was astonished.

“That’s crazy!” Troy turned to Byrne. “You’re putting this kid into a CIA operation and already we find out he’s scared of flying!”

“No, no, Belinda! Tom!” Byrne was embarrassed. “I think Alex was joking.”

“Joking?”

“That’s right. He’s just got a different sense of humour.”

Troy was tight-lipped. “Well, I don’t find it funny,” she said. “In fact, I think this whole idea is crazy. I’m sorry, sir…” she went on quickly, before Byrne could interrupt her. “You tell me this boy has a reputation. But he’s still a minor! Suppose he makes a dumb-ass joke when we’re in the field? He could blow our cover! And what about that accent of his? You’re not going to tell me he’s American?”

“He doesn’t sound American,” Turner agreed.

“Alex won’t need to talk,” Byrne said. “And if he does, I’m sure he can put on an accent.”

Turner coughed. “Permission to speak, sir?”

“Go ahead, Turner.”

“I agree one hundred per cent with special agent Troy, sir. I’ve got nothing against Alex. But he’s not trained. He’s not tested. He’s not American!”

“Goddammit!” Suddenly Byrne was angry. “We’ve been through all this. You know how tough security is on the island-and with the Russian president on the way, it’s going to be worse than ever. You go into Santiago airport on your own and you won’t make it out the other side. Remember what happened to Johnson! He went in on his own, dressed up as a birdwatcher. That was three months ago and we haven’t heard from him since!”

“Well find us an American kid!”

“That’s enough, Turner. Alex has flown thousands of miles to help us and I think you could at least show a little appreciation. Both of you. Alex…” Byrne gestured at Alex to sit down. “Can I get you anything? You want a drink? A Coke?”

“I’m fine,” Alex said, and sat down.

Byrne opened a drawer in his desk and took out a bundle of papers and official documents. Alex recognized the green cover of an American passport. “Now this is how we’re going to work it,” he began. “The first thing is, all three of you are going to need fake IDs when you go into Cayo Esqueleto. I thought it would be easier to keep your first names-so it’s Alex Gardiner who’s going to be travelling with his mum and dad, Tom and Belinda Gardiner. Look after these documents, by the way. The agency is prohibited from manufacturing false passports and I had to pull strings to get hold of them. When this is over, I want them back.”

Alex opened the passport. He was amazed to find his own photograph already in place. His age was the same, but according to the passport he had been born in California. He wondered how it had been done. And when.

“You live in Los Angeles,” Byrne explained. “You’re at high school in west Hollywood. Your dad’s in the movie business and this is a week’s vacation to do some diving and see the sights. I’ll give you some stuff to read tonight, and of course everything’s been backstopped.”

“What does that mean?” Alex asked.

“It means that if anyone asks anything about the Gardiner family living in LA, it’ll all check out. The school, the neighbourhood, everything. There are people out there who’ll say they’ve known you all your life.” Byrne paused. “Listen, Alex. You have to understand. The United States of America is not at war with Cuba. Sure, we’ve had our differences, but for the most part we’ve managed to live side by side. But they do things their way. Cuba -and that means Cayo Esqueleto-is a country in its own right. They find you’re a spy, they’re going to put you in jail. They’re going to interrogate you. Maybe they’ll kill you-and there’s nothing we can do to stop them. It’s been three months since we heard from Johnson and my gut feeling is we’re never going to hear from him again.”

There was a long silence.

Byrne realized he’d gone too far. “But nothing’s going to happen to you,” he said. “You’re not part of this operation. You’re just watching from the sideline.” He turned to the two agents. “The important thing is to start acting like a unit. You only have two days until you leave. That means spending time together. I guess Alex will be too tired for dinner tonight but you can start by having breakfast together tomorrow. Spend the day together. Start thinking like a family. That’s what you’ve got to be.”

It was strange. Lying in bed in Cornwall, Alex had wished he could belong to a family. And now the wish had come true-though not in the way he had intended.

“Any questions?” Byrne asked.

“Yes, sir. I have a question,” Turner said. He was sulking. His mouth had become little more than a straight line quickly drawn across his handsome face. “You want us to play happy families tomorrow. OK, sir, if that’s an order, I’ll do my best. But I think you’re forgetting that tomorrow I’m meant to be seeing the Salesman. I don’t think he’ll be expecting me to turn up with my wife and child.”

“The Salesman?” Byrne was annoyed.

“I’m seeing him at midday.”

“What about Troy?”

“I’ll be there as back-up,” Troy said. “This is standard procedure-”

“All right!” Byrne thought for a moment. “The Salesman is on the water, right? Turner-you’ll go onto the boat. So Alex can stay with Troy, on land. Safely out of the way.”

Byrne stood up. The meeting was over. Alex felt another wave of tiredness surge through him and had to fight off a yawn. Byrne must have noticed. “You get some rest, Alex,” he said. “I’m sure you and I will meet again. And I really am grateful you’ve agreed to help.” He held out a hand. Alex shook it.

But special agent Troy was still sullen. “We’ll have breakfast at ten-thirty,” she said. “That’ll give you time to read all the paperwork. Not that you’ll probably sleep that much anyway. Where are you staying?”

Alex shrugged.

“I’ve put him up at the Delano,” Byrne said.

“OK. We’ll pick you up there.”

Turner and Troy turned round and left the room. Neither of them bothered to say goodbye.

“Don’t mind them,” Byrne said. “This is a new situation for them. But they’re good agents. Turner entered the military straight after college and Troy has worked with him many times before. They’ll look after you when you’re out in the field. I’m sure everything will work out fine.”