Hehhh, hehhh. Hehhh, hehhh. The sound of my own, shallow breathing was all I could hear. That, and the voices of the members of Scorpia, a group of highly trained assassins. "The target" said a woman's voice, sharp as a double- edged blade, "is M16. The bombing is tonight." "So the man Blunt is unaware?" A gravelly voice this time. "Yes" the woman again. "The pretty little schoolchildren are visiting the so-called Royal and General Bank. Isn't that right, Jones?" Alan Blunt's deputy, Mrs. Tulip Jones, was bound in a corner. "Damn you" she spat. The woman only laughed. "Our fiesty little flower. I, Elizabeth McSwain, would like to give you this on behalf of Scorpia." And Elizabeth kicked her, hard. She lashed out again, again. Mrs. Jones avoided her oppressor's eyes, blood trickling down her face. And then, Elizabeth lowered her gun at Mrs. Jones' head. I lost control. Without thinking, I whipped the semi-auto out of the holster and began to perforate the heating vent. And then, with a loud bang, the shot was fired. Mrs. Jones looked up. She will remember me, but to others, I will be faceless. After all, I'm just me. Alex Rider.