I know that some of my reviewers have been waiting for this chapter, so I decided to get it done quickly. Hope you enjoy it and I hope it lives up to your expectations. I haven't even planned the next chapter, but I know that the entire story will be drawing to a close soon. Thanks

Fjord was annoyed. That idiot Kelly just had to get him taken out by a kid didn't he? And now Fjord was receiving the comeuppance. Some things never change. The boss had contacted him an hour ago from his HQ in Italy, telling him he'd been demoted. Now Allsachi was in charge! Allsachi made a monkey look smart, Fjord thought furiously. He stamped along the underground corridors.

A short bearded man ran up to him. Fjord frowned.

"What is it?"

"Downstairs, sir, we've discovered that the guard in deliveries has gone missing."

Fjords frown deepened. Inkheart agents were not allowed to leave the building under any circumstances during the day or while they were on duty.

"See if you can track him down," Fjord said. The man bowed and hurried off. That made Fjord feel better. He still inspired fear into the hearts of the agents. He hurried to his office. But he had just sat down when the phone on his desk bleeped like crazy. Moments later, he had agents all over the building screaming in his ear about some SAS jet flying over the building. But how . . . unless . . .

Fjord left his bleeping phone, and hurried to the surveillance department. He booted up the multiple screens. When they had first set up, they had agents watching the internal cameras all the time, but nobody broke in so there wasn't any point. But the boss insisted that they keep the cameras and equipment.

Fjord fast forward the tapes, bringing them up to date.

There!

A figure on the screen, just going into one of the offices. The door closed. Fjord wound the tape backwards and froze it, examining the figure. He, or she, was black clad and looked young.

Well, smiled Fjord. I can deal with young people. That idiot Allsachi wouldn't have spotted this! His smile faded slightly when he fast forwarded the tape. Another black clad figure had joined him, or her. This one was definitely a woman; he could see her long blond hair. She looked around as she went in. Fjord caught her face and saved it to the system. Then he went back to the tape. She was dragging the body of the agent who had gone missing. If only there was a camera in the room. Fjord fast forward the tape again, and stopped just in time to see them leaving. He was about to reach for his mobile and call down a squad when he hesitated. He could take them on. Then he'd have all the glory and the promotion. He left the room, heading down to the armory. The agents had an appointment with Mr Fjord.

Alex and Tamara crept through the complex. It seemed to go on forever. They emerged in a huge room. Cars of all different makes filled the room; Ferrari, BMW, Lamborghini, Aston Martin . . . and that was just the first floor! The roof was extremely high, and Alex could see several more levels, each filled with cars. Alex took in all of this, and was just about to follow Tamara when an explosion rocked the entire warehouse. Alex staggered and reached out to clutch one of the cars. But his hand slipped and he toppled onto the floor. One of the railings on the upper level broke loose because a car was leaning on it. The car, a BMW z8 plunged down to their level and exploded with a huge bang. Flames leapt up, then plunged down in a whirl of sparks. Swearing, Alex brushed them off. He got up feeling dizzy.

"Looks like the guys are here," she said. He noticed that she had drawn her hand gun.

"That was the agents?"

"I hope so."

This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Tamara motioned him to stay where he was, and prowled into the room. There was a smallish space in the middle that wasn't taken up by cars. She headed towards it, but before she'd gone four paces, there was a loud Thunk and an Aston Martin V12 Vanquish burst into flames. Tamara had enough on-the-go experience to realize that she was under fire. She immediately rolled behind a Lamborghini before checking upwards to the upper levels. A man slipped out from behind a pillar and sent another grenade flying through the barrel of the grenade launcher. A Ferrari exploded and Tamara ducked to avoid debris.

"Ha!" said the man. "Think you'd just drop in to disrupt the operation, did you?"

Alex recognized the tone in his voice; he'd heard it before. Out of the mouths of the insane trying to take over the world. Herod Sayle, Dr Grief, Damien Cray, Mrs Rothman . . . they had all sounded over confident. Before their deaths.

Without thinking, Alex darted out of his hiding place. Fjord switched targets. The BMW he had been hiding behind just moments before burst into flames, hurling up in the air in a shower of sparks. Alex ducked his head instinctively, but kept on running. He rolled behind a pillar and pressed up against the wall, one target in mind: the stair way up to the next level.

Fjord had switched targets back to Tamara. The car she was hiding behind exploded. She was thrown back smashing into the car behind. Alex called out but she looked OK. She was moving at any rate. He watched her roll behind another car and take a few shots at Fjord. It was enough of a diversion for Alex. He sprinted for the stair well that would take him up to the next floor. Tamara was still shooting. Fjord had dived behind a car for cover. Tamara took advantage and sought better cover behind a pillar.

Thunk

A nearby car exploded. Alex crept along the level, hoping Fjord wouldn't see him until it was too late. He was behind him and began advancing towards him. Tamara withdrew from her shooting just in time. A grenade hit the ground next to her and she was knocked from her hiding place. Fjord drew a handgun to finish her off. Alex saw her, sprawled on the ground, lifting her head. It was up to him to make sure that it wasn't the last movement she performed. He yelled.

Fjord turned quickly; he hadn't realized Alex was there. Alex saw the barrel of the grenade launcher go up. He yelled again.

Fjord fired. And the silver BMW in front of him exploded. He had aimed too low. The explosion in front of him lifted him off his feet, over the railing and towards the first level. His back collided with the roof of a car with the sort of impact that the spine was never meant to withstand.

He lay there for a second.

Then his body, broken like a doll, slid off.

Alex had other things to worry about. The wreckage of the silver BMW had clipped him. He fell onto his back as the car and part of the side of the burning car pressed him into the floor. He couldn't believe it! It was the same make and color as his uncle's old BMW. The car he had almost been crushed in. He felt sick as the wreckage pushed into him. The fierce heat and fumes made him feel dizzy.

Suddenly, he felt the great weight lift off him and he blacked out with relief, wondering if he had died.