Thursdays were definitely the worst day of the week. Jack had died on a Thursday. Everything had been destroyed that day, all Alex's hopes and dreams of stability, of being a normal, football playing teenager had gone up in the smoke of that bomb detonated by his evil twin, Julius Grief. Alex was quite cold with the Pleasures, afraid to get too close. He knew from bitter experience that in an instant you could loose everything and have to start again. He had not really unpacked yet after three months in the US. He repacked every weekend, just in case he had to leave in a hurry. This morning was no different to last Thursday or the Thursday before. He would fast the entire day, survive on autopiliot and be glad when the midnight came.

Alex Rider was just getting used to his timetable at his new school, the layout of the buildings, the strangeness of the American system, when two Agents of the Department of Homeland Security had taken him out of his Algebra class at Santa Cruz High School. He was driven to a Palo Alto, put on a light plane and was informed he was in protective custody due to a situation. In his usual Thursday morning daze he had not noted anything unusual on the news. Edward had been working from home and not mentioned a thing. So, without warning, the government had decided to pack the ex-teen spy off to a featureless assessment centre in Montana. He has asked what was wrong but the two stony faced government yes-men said "classified". He arrived at the grey building with two security fences and miles of flat bleak plains in all directions. Alex asked to phone his foster parents, but was not allowed a phone call to alert anyone to his location. Wasn't that a constitutional right, well he guessed he was too close to being a terrorist himself after his brief defection to Scorpia to be allowed such niceties as human rights. He had no idea if the Pleasure's were OK as no one was telling him a thing.

Alex had been photographed, his fingerprints taken and his retinas scanned. He had been strip searched and was now dressed in an orange jump suit and had been left to stew in a cell with blank walls, a bright overhead panel light, a fixed bed, a sink and a toilet, but no window except a slot in the door. He sat and stared at the wall. It was better than Scorpia hospitality after all. He was in for the long haul as food was delivered to the cell, no visits to a communal dining area or for excercise. He ate mechanically as the food was bland and tasteless. You never knew if that was your last meal after all. After the lights went out, Alex had begun to worry. Surely, Edward would have noted he was missing by now. Then again, he had just upped and disappeared before. Who knows what the Government had told his guardians. Alex knew the Homeland Security Act gave them the power to detain all who were a threat to the good old US of A. Alex was a known espionage agent of a foreign power after all. The operation in Cairo had taught Alex that the alliance between Britain and America was paper thin when push came to shove. He was just a pawn in a much larger game.

The next day, Alex was taken to an interrogation room. Two different agents in ill fitting suits, white shirts and dark blue ties came in. "Good morning Mr. Rider. I am Special Agent Knox and my colleague is Special Agent Kowalski. You have been placed in protective custody after we became aware of an external security threat."

Alex could not help himself "Let me guess, Scorpia?"

"We have to inform you that yesterday, MI6 made us aware that a Level One security Breach had happened at their Detention Centre in Scotland and one of their most dangerous inmates escaped. A Scorpia trained assassin called Yassen Gregorovich." The agent watched as the kid lost all colour in his face and started to hyperventilate.

Alex was resting in the Assessment Centre's Medical Bay. Not much more than a nurses room really. The examination bed was hard, but Alex was on a heart monitor and oxygen after his major panic attack and fainting episode. He guessed he was here for his own good as he had personally destroyed Scorpia credibility and Cossack was likely to be out for revenge. He hoped he was going to be able to continue to study for his High School Certificate, but there were no certainties now. Considering Alex Rider's very low opinion of Alan Blunt, he was not surprised to discover the man had lied to him about Yassen Gregorovich. Yassen was alive and now free. Alex guessed he should opt for the red shirt with the target on it, rather than overalls. He was as good as dead after his little adventure in Venice. Alex began to bite his nails, soon he was down to the quick, the pain a welcome distraction.

After several hours when he ignored the nurse, he was taken back to his cell. He noted the routine of the guards, the twists and turns of the corridors, the layout of the doors, the gates and the cameras. He was no longer a boy, but a statistic, a number and was now part of a system of threats to national security. He had no options but to accept his fate as an ex-operative with no useful future prospects.

...

Monday morning and Alex was shown to the showers. Communal and no choice but to strip in front of the guard. Alex hated his scarred body. The room had eight showers and no stalls. A bench and pegs on the side. A rack of plain grey towels. A group of other guests of the US government arrived as Alex was drying off.

The guard with Alex scolded, "Mike, you're early. You are not scheduled to be here for three minutes."

Alex got the impression he was not meant to be interacting with the general population. A tall dark haired inmate asked Alex "How old are you, boy?"

"Fifteen."

"NO talking! No socialising." The guard then lead Alex out. "Don't talk to the other guys here. Just keep your head down. OK, Kid?"

Alex just shrugged. So he was in Solitary Confinement.

...

Yusaf El Habib was a law student. His student visa had been withdrawn and he was awaiting deportation back to Egypt. He had been detained under a general security restriction, a wide trawl to remove all possible national security threats. Yusaf was a Coordinator with Al-Qaeda, his time in detention here had been usefully spent converting others to the cause. He had deliberately talked to the blond haired boy in solitary. Could this be the child assassin who had removed the problem of Razim the traitor in June? His commander would need to know, this child would be an asset to be acquired. They may even just want to help this unknown operative to settle the debt of honour. Razim's betrayal had hurt his organisation deeply. That back stabbing Iraqi had stolen funds, taken a number of good men with him to join Scorpia, now he was in hell. The child in detention was an enemy of their enemy, so maybe therefore a friend. Yusaf would write in code to his lawyer, who would visit. The fact Alex Rider was being held at the Federal Detention Facility at Meadow Falls, Montana was no longer a secret.

...

That afternoon, Alex was given a new set of self-study books. The guard then stated, "a tutor will come on Tuesdays and Thursdays". With nothing else to do, the young English boy studied hard. The next day a middle aged man went through his schedule and discussed grades, SATs, assessment and test schedules.

Alex wanted to be a good student but his future was now bleak. The black and white situation of detention or certain death. "What's the point if I'm here. Do I pass High School and go one straight to a self study degree?"

The man looked uncomfortable, unable to give a straight answer. "Umm, I can't answer that."

Alex settled on not giving any details about himself to anyone. After five days, he missed fresh air, exercise and the sun.