AN: Please read, and if you enjoy I'd appreciate some reviews! I have a lot more planned for this story and am very excited. No, I'm not abandoning my others...just waiting for more inspiration because I don't want junky updates! I wrote this at 3:00am in the morning yesterday and finished at 9:00pm (only typing for a couple hours...) my sister just graduated Naval Boot Camp, as an E-3! She was promoted...( one of 6 out of 500 recruits) so that's why this is made...otherwise I am sure I wouldn't have typed it up. Congrats Julia! Again...pls review/fav/follow! Thanks in advance!
The sniper sees everything. The sniper knows everything. The sniper is deadly. The sniper can go anywhere, this sniper never misses. The sniper isn't a person, emotions aren't allowed in the job description; so this sniper has no emotions. The sniper has killed dozens of unsuspecting men, women, and children; so this sniper feels no remorse in his next kill. He can observe the smallest creature, he can observe each body pass by him; as that is all they are, bodies, waiting to be chosen as his next victim. This is his next victim. Alex Rider.
The sniper does not attach himself to any target, allowing only a face and a name to enter his mind. Even a name can prove deadly to the sniper. It gets in the way and distracts the sniper. When a target has a name, the target is a person and has a life. He has been trained to detach himself from humanity and be a shadow, to be a silent nightmare. He has been trained in Malagosto. He is SCORPIA.
SCORPIA never forgives, SCORPIA never forgets.
And so it was that SCORPIA would never forget the fourteen-year-old that took down the greatest criminal organization in the world. His name; Alex Rider.
(teachers POV I think)
A rare laugh filled the cafeteria of Brookland High on a certain Thursday afternoon. Multiple students looked up from their conversations to the boy. It was a joyful sound, to hear the student laugh, being so silent sense his uncle's death two years ago. The group of boys responsible for the sound continued talking as though nothing happened, least the fair-haired child stop. Hardly though, could he be called a child. His eyes were dark, liquid brown, too old for one of his age; as though he has seen too much in his 16 years. His stance was always rigid and in constant readiness. This teacher chose though, to ignore the rumors spread about the boy; he couldn't see the child as a druggie, dealer, or part of a gang. He was too clean, too polite, and focused. At least when he was actually AT school. This was perhaps the most confusing aspect of the boy's life. He was always in perfect shape and fitness when present, but almost half the year he is gone 'sick' as the doctor's notes would always say. How many times could a kid fall down the stairs, or trip with a bread knife in his hand? He couldn't believe the fair-haired boy was THAT clumsy, he certainly showed enough balance and stealth while walking for that to be ruled out fairly quickly; though the scars on his arms and the ones surely under his shirt proved something of the like. So what was it that made Alex Rider so suspicious a student?
The laugh escaped unexpectedly, startling even himself. It was nice to relax, to enjoy himself without fear; his constant companion. Pointedly ignoring the looks directed at himself Alex turned back to his friends to enjoy what last time he could with them. Then his work phone rang.
Silently cursing Blunt and every MI6 agent and worker he quietly unzipped the secret pocket that held the phone. This directed the attention of almost every student and staff member, as phones are prohibited during school hours. Again ignoring them, he pulled the phone to his ear to answer the call.
"Agent Rider, your bank account is in need of revising and we request you to come to the bank promptly to attend to the issue."
Alex cursed under his breath again, knowing full well it was not a request. Sighing, he put it back toward his face to answer the forced words,
"Yes sir, will three hours be prompt enough?" Alex knew he was risking irritation, but he couldn't care less at the moment. He heard a growl at the other end of the phone,
"Yes Agent, that will do; but don't tarry, it is of importance."
"Of course sir, have a good day." There was a muted response and then, "Bye."
Alex pulled the phone back down to his view and ended the call. He scowled, they never call at school; it was obviously important then, but Alex couldn't help but wish for a normal day for once. Little did he know that the day would be anything but normal.
The school day went by in a blur, with Alex not paying much attention to his classes and instead focusing on what could be wrong. Tom noticed this but didn't comment on it; used to his friend's secrets. It didn't really bother him, he knew the most of what Alex did; his general job and missions. He could understand why Alex wouldn't want to talk about the details; the scars themselves being more than enough evidence of his pain. The constant suffering Alex was prone to made Tom despise MI6 all the more. Why couldn't they just leave his friend alone? When Alex's phone rang at lunch, Tom knew right away who it was; but he was unable to prevent anything from happening. All he could do what stand by and watch, at least until that afternoon. Little did Tom know that his world was about to change in the blink of an eye.
The boys walked out of the doors of the school at exactly 3:15pm, Alex liked to be on time he thought. That's good, if my times are right then, he should be entering Liverpool street in exactly 15 minutes. The shadow lifted his sniper from where it was previously rested and slid away to the next street. 15 minutes was plenty of time to make the shot, and if the blonde and black haired boys were just as precise with their route as they were time; finding a quiet street or alley would be no problem.
Alex never liked using predictable routes to and from destinations. He did this only for Tom's sake, who he knew was a stickler for predictability. From the moment they stepped outside of the school, he felt as though there were eyes on his back. Shadow surrounded him and he snapped into high gear. The training from Malagosto kicked in and he found himself being the object of many eyes. Both Tom and James stared at him in confusion; Alex wasn't sure why, until he realized he stood in a defensive stance and his eyes were glazed over. James shook it off and laughed at him, thinking Alex was just goofing around but Tom knew better. He had seen the look many times and decided it was not something to ignore. They resumed their walk, only Alex was warier and Tom more cautious. James seemed to be oblivious. He walked to his car where his mother was waiting to pick him up. James hated to admit it but he still didn't have his license and couldn't transport himself to and from school by his own self. Tom had gotten his temps a year before and has been driving sense he could. Alex has been able to drive sense he was old enough to reach the peddles, though no one knew that but him and his now dead uncle. Alex now owned his own motorcycle/bike, but preferred to still ride his bicycle. It was quieter and easier to sneak into places with.
After James was picked up Tom and Alex took the side road that led to Liverpool street. Technically Tom wasn't allowed at the bank, but Alex was about to tell them off so he didn't care at all what they thought. Tom was going to the bank, or Alex wasn't going to listen to Jones. Jones was nicer than Blunt, but he still held a grudge against MI6; especially after Jack's death. Nothing could make up for that. He had tried to live with the Pleasure's after her death, but he ended up unable to cope with civilian life so he came back to London to live by himself. Jones allowed this under the condition he keep contact with MI6. Alex wouldn't have a choice anyway, being under 18 he was still technically their property. He scowled, he is no one's property. So Alex continued his school and life in London with Tom as his best mate, with the occasional trip to Brecon Beacons for training. On certain occasions he would find himself giving talks and seminars on various criminal organizations at one place or another. It was always fun to see the soldiers or spy's/agents faces when their great, and expert teacher came in; as a student. This was a perk to his unfortunate situation. When Alex thought back to it he couldn't imagine denying Jones a mission; being able to save people and knowing you're doing good in the world really left Alex addicted to his job. Even if he held irritation and anger towards his guardian's murderers, as they held a hand in the death of Jack, Ian, Helen, John, and Ash.
Quickly Alex swiped these thoughts away as he couldn't, wouldn't, allow himself to think of his parent's murder. His own God-father. Going back to the present Alex found that him and Tom a few streets away from the school already. Tom must have noticed him thinking, because he had kept silent the whole time; which was unusual for one so out-going as Tom. Back to present day Alex smiled and shook his friend's hair, trying to lighten the mood. Neither noticed in their rough housing, the shadow lurking above them.
One shot, one shot and the mission is done. No evidence, no mess, just one bullet.
The man raised the weapon and set the scope. A deep breath, a trained eye. Two millimeters of movement and the job was done.
He took a breath,