A/N: Well I got the idea for this fic when I finished watching the movie, the Bourne Identity, about a fornight ago. I tried to ignore the idea because frankly, I don't know if I can handle three fics at the same time, but alas, I just couldn't ignore the idea any longer so I decided to write it down. It's a bit rough around the edges, but I dearly hope you do enjoy!
Disclaimer: Unfortunatly, I do not own Alex Rider :(
There was only one word to describe MI6 and that was treacherous. Sure, the agency protected Great Britain from scheming low-lives such as terrorists and other organisations that sought to 'rule the world', but being such an effective agency also meant that MI6 didn't necessarily always play fair to get the results they desire. One example of this was Alex Rider. The world's first, and most effective fourteen year old spy who'd been dragged into the world of intelligence after the recent death of his uncle, Ian Rider, who, ironically had also worked for MI6 before his death. Oh, and don't forget his father, John Rider, who had died when Alex was young, he too had been a spy.
Alas, our story turns to young Alex Rider, our hero who has thwarted the dreadful organisation, Scorpia, not once, but twice. He has also had a hand in saving millions of lives from countless threats such as smallpox infected laptops; clones (Star Wars, anybody?) of a madman who had planned to take over the world via some various industries; yet another lunatic who had wanted to cause a huge nuclear fallout; a famous pop star who had wanted eradicate the drug trade by using nuclear weapons; a criminal organization known as Scorpia who had wanted to murder every single child in London; again, another mad man who wanted to destroy the Pentagon via a space hotel; and his most recent achievement of all, prevent a man-made tsunami that would have devastated Australia's west coast.
Bloody stupid MI6.
Alex shifted in his hiding spot, ignoring the gentle rocking motion of the ship as he tried to contemplate his next actions. He couldn't help but curse MI6 for getting him in such a sticky situation, yet again. He had been asked, no, more liked forced into this assignment even after they had promised to leave him alone. He remembered the conversation quite vividly.
Mr Blunt's office was as bland as ever, the walls were bare, books was neatly stacked, bits of paper arranged orderly on his desk, and of course, there was Mr Blunt in his ever grey suit with the same impassive face as he stared at the furious teen standing in front of him.
"You!" Alex turned to face Mrs Jones who was standing beside Mr Blunt, sucking on a peppermint as she observed the conversation, she obviously hadn't expected to be dragged into the conversation, "You said you wouldn't drag me into this again. That you would leave me alone so I can live my life!"
Mrs Jones sighed, "You have to understand Alex, we need you, and you're the only one who can do this mission. I, myself wasn't too eager about having you do this, but it's for the best, Alex."
Alex seethed, "I am not your pet!" He yelled, not caring if the agents working around the building could hear his voice, "And don't give me that crap, I'm not the only agent you have, you do not need me!" He glowered.
"Unfortunatly, with the current situation, yes we do need you." Mrs Jones replied, "Our forces are stretched thin as it is with the latest surge in terrorist activity. I'm sure you heard about the recent aeroplane collision in Wales."
Alex shrugged, but nodded. It had been all over the news how two British Airways planes had collided in mid-air before crashing into a corn field in Wales. Cause: Unknown. "No one made it out alive, and they still don't know why it had happened." He said in a quiet whisper.
"Yes, that was because the story has been covered up. We don't want them to know that the planes' had been hijacked."
Alex looked shocked, "Why? Why did you cover it up?"
"Because we have our reasons…" Mrs Jones said somewhat mysteriously. "Now Alex, we really need you to help us out, lives are at stake here."
Alex sighed, "Not like I have a choice anyway." He muttered, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Mrs Jones glanced at Mr Blunt who pulled out a file from one of his drawers. "Well, sit down Alex." Mr Blunt said as he opened the file, showing Alex a slightly blurred image of a man.
Alex stared at it, the guy looked to be in his mid-thirties, he had short, dirty blonde hair and his nose looked liked it had seen better days and there was something oddly chilling about the man. "Who's that?"
"That." Mr Blunt started, "Is Drake Hunter. Freelance assassin who as we have come to recently discover, has information that could cripple the country and he's willing to sell it to the highest bidder. Guess who it is."
Alex looked at Mr Blunt as though he was mad, but his expression slowly changed to horror as it dawned on him who it could possibly be, "Scorpia." He whispered.
"That is quite right." Mr Blunt nodded, his face was stern, "We need you to… take care of Drake for us."
Alex's eyes widened as he looked between Mr Blunt and Mrs Jones, bewildered. "I am not killing him if that's what you mean. You know perfectly well I can't do it." He crossed his arms stubbornly.
"Alex, you're the only agent we have who's been taught by Scorpia-" Alex shuddered visibly at this, "-to assassinate." Mr Blunt said matter-of-factly. "We have no other choice but to get rid of him, or risk Scorpia getting their hands on information we'd rather they not have."
Alex looked like he was about to protest, but was cut off when there was a loud knock at the door.
Alex twisted in his chair and was delighted to see Smithers as he walked through the door. Smithers was probably the reason Alex was still alive, he and his gadgets had saved Alex's life countless times during his previous missions.
"Alex, my boy, it's good to see you again." The man smiled when he spotted the teen spy.
Alex returned the smiled and nodded, "Thanks for last time." He said seriously, "Those coins were really useful."
Smithers beamed, "So I figured. I've got something else for you this time." He looked up at Mr Blunt and Mrs Jones, "They wanted you to have this." He said pulling an object from his bag.
Alex stared at it.
"Oh so now they give me a gun."
"How else do you think you're going to get rid of Drake?" Mrs Jones raised an eyebrow.
Alex glared at her before taking the weapon from Smithers. The last time he had held a gun, he had been aiming it a Mrs Jones, he was sure she hadn't forgotten that incident so quickly.
"I also have these for you, Alex. So that they could keep in communication with you." Smithers said, handing Alex an earpiece and a plaster.
Alex raised an eyebrow, "Aplaster?"
Smithers nodded, "It's a microphone, disguised obviously. You press this-" Smithers showed Alex the right bit to press, "To transmit a message. Also, this band-aid is… stickier then most so I suggest you don't stick it on some hairy area because it will hurt when you take it off."
Alex rolled his eyes, "Obviously." Then he glanced at Mrs Jones, "So when do I start?"
"A week from now."
Alex sighed, he now regretted accepting the mission, actually, he regretted being dragged into this whole spy life in the first place. MI6 had told him to track Drake until they gave him the green light to dispose of Drake, so he had followed his orders and now found himself aboard a ship which, fomr what he had heard, was heading to France after first stopping at Germany and Spain. He'd been stuck on the ship for two days, sneaking out at night to gather food for the next day of hell. He was surprised that the freelance assassin still hadn't figured out that they had an extra, unwanted passenger onboard. Alex had thought that maybe the man was like Yassen, the Russian-born assassin, but then again Yassen had been one of the best…
He shifted his position again so that he could massage the circulation back into his legs, night was falling fast, and he would soon have to go out on his midnight venture. His hand unconsciously wandered to the slight bulge of the Glock he had been given, which was tucked under his shirt.
He waited another hour or so before he finally dared to creep out of his hiding place. Stretching his legs, Alex moved quickly and silently as he climbed the stairs to the deck and pushed the door open by an inch. Once he was absolutely certain that there was no one around, Alex pushed the door full open and walked out into the cool night air. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he carefully shut the door behind him and crept along the deck towards one the cabins which he had figured out was Drake's office.
Alex was relieved when he found the door unlocked, less work for him. Alex looked around and was disgusted at the state of the 'office'. There was literarily paper everywhere and what Alex assumed was food, though it didn't look like it. Making a face, Alex pulled out a mini torch from his pocket and switched it on, scanning through the piles of paper for anything interesting.
A bulky envelope caught his eye and he picked it up, holding it closer to the torch light so that he could read the address details on it, but was disappointed when there was none so he instead, removed the contents of the envelope and unfolded it.
It took him a moment to figure it out, but when he did, he realised that it was a list of names. A list of well known dead people's names. Confused, Alex dropped the list and spotted a letter that had accompanied the list.
What he read made his blood run cold.
He took another look at the list and read it again, his eyes slowly widening in horror.
Alex dropped the list quickly and started to back out of the office, shocked at what he had just read. He shut the door of the cabin quickly and started to hurry back to his hiding place, but was stopped when a large figure suddenly stepped in his path.
"Oh no you don't."
Alex stared at the man and felt the colour leave his face. It was Drake. And he was holding a gun.
Without thinking, Alex went against his instincts and turned and headed in the opposite direction.
He heard the sound of two gun shots going off before he staggered over to the guard rails, his back felt like it was on fire.
The next thing he knew, he was falling. Falling into the cold, black ocean below.
And that was the last thing he remembered.
So tell me what you think, especially if you want me to continue it because at the moment I'm unsure of whether or not I should…
Anyway, looking forward to hear what you have to say.