Disclaimer: Actual series written by the "God" Anthony Horowitz. For more info, go to .com/
Early in the morning, as the sun made its beautiful rise, Alex Rider was sneaking out of his house, without his housekeeper/guardian/friend, Jack, knowing. No, he wasn't that kind of bratty fourteen-year-old. He was going to a bank, where MI6's secret headquarters was located.. Mrs. Jones, assistant to the head of the intelligence program, had scheduled a meeting with Alex the day before, when she had seen him at the market. Alex had refused to go on another mission, and said he wouldn't come, but, as always, Mrs. Jones had somehow found a way to persuade Alex to come.
He walked down the London streets, empty as he had ever seen them, since it was 5:30 in the morning, and found his way to the Royal Bank – a place he had, unfortunately, visited many times before. Alex was an MI6 agent. Yes, that's right…a teenage spy.
The bank was a normal bank for most people, actually maintaining bank accounts and scheduling meetings with financial advisors. But when Alex walked up to the reception desk at the far end of the room, and asked for Mrs. Jones (he could have asked for anyone at MI6 Headquarters above), the receptionist told him to take the elevator up to the second floor, where Jones would be waiting. Alex stepped into the elevator – marked "Personnel Only" – and pressed the button for the second floor (the only button other than one.), he knew that his fingers were being fingerprinted as he pushed the button, that a hidden camera located in the corner of the elevator was filming him, that his shoe size was being scanned, etc. If any of these did not match the information in the MI6 computers, guards would be waiting for him when he got out of the elevator.
But of course that did not happen to Alex. The instant Alex's finger touched the button, a positive report popped up on Mrs. Jones' computer screen. Alex stepped out of the elevator and knocked on the door labeled "Room 6, Mrs. Jones, Secretary to the Director" Mrs. Jones opened the door so suddenly that Alex wondered if she had been waiting for him on the other side of the door.
"Good morning, Alex. I hope you slept well," Mrs. Jones said.
"No, I haven't, but thank you for asking me," Alex said.
"Why not?" Mrs. Jones asked, wanting to pretend to be interested.
"This strange person keeps calling me every ten minutes, so I keep waking up, and the one time I picked up, they said, "Alex Rider, I will kill you."
"Alex," said Mrs. Jones. "I will make a deal with you." "If you will do a mission for us, we will investigate this person who is calling you." She paused.
"No." said Alex. "Never again will I work for MI6. I have nearly gotten killed on every one of my eight missions, and actually several times on each one!"
"May I at least go into details, Alex? You don't have to agree!" She continued on without his response. "You've heard of Archie Duleman, the famous Czechoslovakian author. The man who won seventeen national Czech book awards for a single one of his books in only one and a half years?"
"Yes. I recently read one of his one of his books: Drama on the House!"
"Well, MI6—"
"You mean you and Mr. Blunt?"
"Yes, but we have been suspicious of him. We began being suspicious when I looked up the upcoming book in the series for personal purposes, and I demanded the company still making them to send me a copy without Duleman knowing, and the pages looked different, made out of different material, and I gave it to the Scientific Research Department of MI6, and they found all things the paper was made of. The results were emailed to me a couple days ago. They were made of fiber, since it is the common material for all papers, wheat, which isn't too surprising, and this is the one that got me worried: Malecite Noxell. We became interested in this material and researched it. We found out it was an itchy material, that when touched to skin can cause a serious disease called The Spanish Plague, which, unfortunately, is the deadliest disease known to mankind!"
"No. I'm sorry," said Alex. "I don't want involvement in this MI6 junk."
"Then this strange person will have to keep calling you, Alex!"
Alex reconsidered it. He knew he now had no choice but to accept, like always with MI6, but he wouldn't do it now, because first he had to explain to Jack, though he didn't know how the heck he would do that.
"May I have time to think about it? Perhaps we can meet again tomorrow for brunch?"
"Okay," Mrs. Jones sighed. "Eleven o'clock sharp. In Blunt's office."
Alex woke up from a horrible sleep at seven o'clock. He had managed to sneak back into the house without waking up Jack. But is that a good thing or bad thing? thought Alex. He got up and walked into the kitchen, where Jack was already making his usual breakfast, a pancake, three pieces of smoked bacon, and eggs with ketchup on top.
"Hi, Alex! Your breakfast is almost ready. Here, come sit down. I'll pour you some orange juice--" She groaned as she smashed up the eggs.
Alex kept staring at the ground. "Jack, I don't deserve any of this. I let you down tonight,"
"What do you mean, sweetie?" Jack Starbright asked, confused.
"I wasn't in bed all of tonight," said Alex
"Well, where were you, in the restroom?" Jack laughed.
"No, I mean I wasn't in this house for this whole entire night," Alex said.
"Alex, are you telling me you…"
"Jack, let me explain before you get mad at me," Alex quickly said. "Yesterday, when I went to the supermarket to buy fruit for you, I coincidentally bumped into Mrs. Jones, and I mean that literally. She told me that she was glad to see me and that she needed to have a meeting with me tomorrow, urgently. Of, course, I refused immediately, but you know how she is, always making me do whatever she wants. Anyway, she told me to come at four in the morning, and of course I refused again, but she made me do it,"
"Alex, why did you accept her offer of that meeting?" Jack said, furiously.
"Jack, that isn't the worst part. The question she asked me…she asked me if I could do another mission for them, Jack!"
"Oh no! I don't like the sounds of this, Alex!" "Did you say yes, Alex? Did you?"
"Calm down, Jack. I told her I would come tomorrow with the answer tomorrow. I needed to explain the whole thing to you first,"
"Ah, Alex! That was so sweet of you!" Jack hugged him. Her eyes widened. "You won't say yes, will you Alex?"
Alex sighed.
Jack knew that meant a yes. "What!?" "We agreed that you would just be a normal schoolboy after that horrible last mission you had,"
"But Jack! You know they always can get their way!"
Jack paused. "I guess you're right, Alex. You did the right thing. You can go on this mission, but promise me this is the last."
The next morning, while Alex was getting ready to go to the meeting, he heard a loud bang on his door. He answered the door, and it was Sabina Pleasure, along with her dad, Edward Pleasure.
"Alex!" Sabina cried as she hugged him. "We've come to visit you for the Christmas!"
"Sab!" Alex shouted in joy.
Jack walked to the doorway. "What a surprise! You guys have come to visit us from America!"
"Yes," said Edward Pleasure. "We have,"
"I'm actually on my way out the door," Alex said.
"To what?" Sabina asked.
"To…to MI6. I accepted to do another mission for them," Alex whispered into Sabina's ears. Edward still didn't know that Alex worked for them—at least as far as Alex knew.
Sabina gasped. "May I speak to you privately, Alex?" she asked, as she headed towards Alex's room. "Alex, I thought you said all this spy stuff was over with. Done!"
"Sab, I know. I know I said it was done, but it is hardly my choice I'm doing this! MI6 pretty much forced me!" Alex said, which he had now said twice this morning so far.
"But, Alex! You can get killed on this mission! You can get killed on any of these missions! Please don't do it!"
"Sabina! Let's go and check in at our hotel here!" Edward called from outside the house.
Sabina let out a deep breath. "I guess you're right, Alex. There's nothing you can do about it. See you tomorrow for supper," said Sabina.
"See you," said Alex.
Alex said goodbye to Edward and Jack, who were chitchatting about American politics, since they were both native of America.
Then Alex went to the bank again, but this time through the front door, not the back entrance.
Alex asked the receptionist at the desk for Mrs. Jones.
"Mrs. Jones? I'm sorry, but I don't believe we have any hired staff named Jones," she said.
"Well, of course there is! You know the secret location! Mr. Blunt! Mrs. Jones!"
"I'm sorry, but I think you've mistaken, sir, there is no one named Mr. Blunt nor Mrs. Jones,"
Alex apologized for his waste of time and headed out the front door. Why did this happen? He had gone into the same bank the day earlier and asked for Mrs. Jones, and the woman told him to take the elevator, but this time the receptionist probably thought Alex was a kid with special needs. Then he understood. He forgot that the front entrance was an actual bank, knowing nothing of the back entrance, where it entered into the same bank, but, as Alex had just figured out, the bank in the back of the location was an exact replicate of the one in front, except the fact that it was turned around to make you think there was only one bank, and you were just from a different direction of looking at it.
Alex went into the correct entrance and asked the same-looking receptionist as in the other bank for Mrs. Jones, took the elevator up, and ran into Mr. Blunt's office, since Alex was already a few minutes late, caused by the surprise that ran up to him at his front door. Blunt and Jones were already eating.
"You're late, Alex," said Mr. Blunt.
"Yes, I am," said Alex.
"This is no time for jokes and games, Alex, because we discovered another material in the paper that can cause a disease that can an "artificial AIDS," said Mrs. Jones.
"Alex," said Mr. Blunt. "We must discuss your problem. Though you may not think we are the kindest and fairest at all times, we do what must be done, and we do our fair share," "Anyhow, the number that you told Mrs. Jones yesterday…" he paused as he took a huge bite of chicken. " well, we looked it up, and there is a man named Donny Harmer that owns thee phone. His occupation is…none, and he has criminal record. Apparently, he murdered a young woman, and escaped from a jail in Scotland, not far from here, and now is located somewhere in England, though the location is unknown. Police have been searching for him for several years," Blunt dropped the file down onto the desk. He turned to Mrs. Jones. "Why haven't we heard of this man?" he asked her.
She shrugged.
"He's the number sixty-nine most wanted of the FBI, since he contributed to the bombing of Pearl Harbor and several unknown bombings and attacks all over the Eastern Coast of the United States!"
Mr. Blunt turned to Alex. "But the main reason we need you here today is to discuss your mission. You must travel to the Czech Republic. Don't worry about where to go or anything. Smithers will take care of that. Of course, no weapons, but I've got to say, Alex, he has pretty cool things in store for you! Back to the subject, I need to tell you what to do. You will sneak into the Herriot Publishing Co. and disable all the conveyor belts for a week. Later, half of a dozen men who are highly trained with weapons will be sent in to shut down the operation. Alex, this time we want you to do the task and nothing else. Remember last time, with Streik and McCain, and how we only asked you to get the information from Streik's computer, but you got totally involved with the whole operation? Well, though that was a job well done, but now we are concerned of your safety…"
Concerned for my safety? thought Alex. That's a first!
"…and the prime minister made an agreement with us where you cannot be in too much danger—you can do a simple deed for us, but not be in contact with criminals too much, Alex,"
Of course! thought Alex. They don't care about me! It's someone else!
"You will leave tomorrow. At seven o'clock pm sharp, a private jet will arrive at the CNA (Chelsea National Airport) airport, where you'll be waiting, and it will take you to the airport in the Czech Republic (CIA; Czechoslovakian International Airport) and you will go to the factory and follow our instructions. Of course, we do not believe the security in the factory will be high quality, but we cannot be sure,"
"Good luck Alex, and thanks for agreeing to our deal," Mrs. Jones said. "Now go see Smithers next door and he'll equip you with some real cool items!"
Author's Note (by this I'm talking about me, not the real author, Anthony Horowitz)
As you can obviously see, this story I created in a sense hasn't been completed or finished. I did this purposely, to leave you, the reader(s) to use your imagination and create the rest of the story. If you have a good idea, post it in the reviews section of this story, and if it deserves it, I'll add your idea to my story, and delete this paragraph, of course, so the story can be completely done/over with.