A/N: Welcome to my first Alex Rider fic! This is an alternate ending to Crocodile Tears in which lots has changed. I tried to make sure they wouldn't be, but characters may be a little OOC.
Note: In my version, Straik was not yet killed by McCain. Just so you know, he didn't come back from the dead or anything like that. Plus, I am not Anthony Horowitz (duh) so all rights go to him.
Rahim stopped mid-sentence and slumped over the controls of the plane. It took Alex a moment to notice the gaping hole in the side of his head. It took him just a split second more to see the two men with guns pointed at him, a huge black man and one who looked like he should be an accountant. No need to ask them who they were, Alex knew them all too well. Leonard Straik and Desmond McCain.
McCain glared at Alex as if he could burn a hole in him with his eyes. "Get. Out. Of. The. Plane." he spit out at Alex.
"What if I don't want to?" he said. Yes, not the smartest thing to say, but what else was there to say?
"Unless you wish to die a painful death, you will get out of that plane." McCain demanded. Alex had no choice but to do so, the guns following him as he stepped out.
"Just give it up," he said. "There won't be any epidemic. It's all over."
Straik frowned. "We are already aware of that. The problem is, you know too much now. You might be just fourteen, but you should know by now what happens if you know too much."
Alex did not answer. There was no need to.
McCain held tighter to the gun. "Now, tell me what you now know about me. That I am an adult, and you are just a child. That I cannot be stopped, especially not by you."
Alex answered, "Forget it. I'm not playing your games."
Straik narrowed his eyes. "We will see what you say later when you're about to die."
This was answered by a swift kick in the gut. Straik's breath was knocked out of him and he doubled over, giving Alex the chance to give him a final blow to the head. The genetic engineer fell over unconscious, and McCain yelled in fury. "Idiot! Beaten by a child!" He pulled the trigger on his gun, sending a fatal bullet into Straik.
Alex could only watch as the scene unfolded. McCain said, "He was useless to me. You are, too." He threw his gun aside and lunged at Alex.
Alex tried to get out of the way. He was fast, but McCain was faster. Alex was thrown down. His head banged the wheel of the Piper and he lay still.
McCain looked over at the boy spy, believing that he was dead. He pushed him out of the way and climbed into the plane.
That wasn't very smart of him. He should've known, it takes a lot more than that to kill a boy like Alex Rider.
Mrs. Jones unwrapped a peppermint, her tenth one that day, and waited. That is, after all, what you're meant to do in a hospital waiting room. To her left was Alan Blunt. To her right was Jack Starbright.
"Well, it looks like Alex is in the hospital again because of you." Jack said angrily.
Mrs. Jones sighed. "He works for us. Ending up in a hospital is just an occupational hazard."
"So is dying!" yelled Jack. "Alex never wanted to be a part of this. He's much too young to be a spy!"
She stopped her rant abruptly when she noticed an elderly couple across the room giving them funny looks. She continued in a whisper, "Thank God he wasn't killed. You know, that could've happened, considering what you've thrown him into."
"What we've thrown him into? I don't think you did anything to stop-"
Blunt cut in. "Look, you two arguing will not make Alex heal faster."
The nurse poked her head into the waiting room and waved them in. The old couple was still looking at them strangely.
The nurse led them to Alex's room and stopped. "For now, he's stable but still unconscious. You can see him for the next fifteen minutes, but no longer."
They walked into the room, preparing for what they might see. Even so, Jack was still shocked at the array of tubes connected to Alex. He was bruised and scratched all over, but most noticeable of his injuries was an ugly knot on the right side of his forehead.
"Oh my goodness, Alex!" Jack whispered/shouted. Jones and Blunt had no comment.
They stood in silence, not knowing what to do or say. Mrs. Jones was first to break the silence. "As I was saying, you could have told Alex not to-"
"Shhhhhh!" said Jack. "He's waking up."
Alex grunted and leaned his head to the side, then slowly blinked his eyes open. He looked at him like he was seeing them through a thick fog.
"Alex," Blunt said, "are you feeling alright?" Alex had a confused look on his face.
"Who...are you?" he moaned.
Oh no, Jones thought. Not amnesia. That's the last thing he needs. The last thing we need, too.
"Um, Blunt, could I speak to you in the hallway for a minute?" she asked. Blunt agreed, and they left Jack and Alex.
"Did you hear that? He doesn't remember!" she said.
"Please, Tulip, don't worry. Amnesia rarely lasts long. Besides, he may just be confused. You do remember that he's just seen two men get shot, and he's had a pretty severe head injury."
Mrs. Jones refused to not worry. "You remember, don't you? As inconvenient as it is right now, we still need Alex Rider. McCain got away, and who knows what he's planning now!" She tried to calm herself down.
"Let's just go back in there, okay?" Blunt stated calmly. Jones responded with a nod.
When they entered the room, Jack was kneeling by Alex's bed, telling Alex random details about his life. "I'm Jack, your housekeeper. You live with me. You go to a school called Brookland. You have friends named Tom and Sabina." She didn't seem to notice the agents walking in.
"How is he?" Blunt questioned.
Jack shook her head in despair. "He just doesn't remember anything that I can tell. I need to talk to that nurse- where is she, anyway?" With that, Jack hurried out the door.
Jones checked her watch. They now had eight minutes left. Alex turned his head and focused on them, squinting his eyes. "Tell me how I got here, you two. That woman, Jack, won't tell me."
"Well, it's sort of a long story," Blunt began. "It started when your uncle- Ian, you might know- was killed. He was a spy."
A cloud of doubt floated over Alex's face. "No, seriously. What's happened?"
"Alex, we're telling you the truth." Mrs. Jones walked over to his bedside and kneeled down like Jack did. "You are a spy, too."
Alex made a sound somewhere in between a laugh and a grunt. "Who are you people? I mean, really?"
"Please, Alex," Blunt pleaded. "You have to believe us. We're agents for MI6. You were our spy. We still need you."
Alex was suddenly angry. "Listen, I don't care who you are or what you want. I refuse to believe that I'm your spy!"
The two backed away. Blunt gave Jones a look that said Let's-leave-before-he-does-something-destructive. Silently, they walked out.
That's the problem with amnesia, Blunt thought. It makes people different, takes away what they knew. Most of all, it sets them apart from you. Just when you need them most.
A/N: To be continued! I don't mind flames, and CC is welcome. Please review! :)