Operation: Skull Island

by The Cold Soldier

Alexander Niquolai and Alex Rider are teamed up to face Goronovich, a power hungry man who lives on Skull Island, a popular tourist attraction. They are soon thrown into a perilous mission, and one of the members of the CIA or MI6 is a traitor.

1. Chapter 1

Chapter One- The Dark-Skinned Man

I, Alexander Niquolai (ni-KQO-LIE), stood at the edge of my porch, riling up my golden retriever, Scully, with my swift tickling and petting. I loved that dog, and that was for sure. It was then that I noticed a slim, dark-skinned man staring coldly at me, showing absolutely no emotion.

I, a beginner bodybuilder, turned to my dad, who was standing next to me on the porch, and said, "Dad, why's that guy staring at us like that?" As my dad looked up from The Birmingham News, I could see the blood freeze in his veins.

"Lex," my dad said quietly but sternly, "take Scully and go into the house. Now!"

"What's the matter, Dad?"

"Just do it now!"

"Come on, Scully," I said, clapping my hands to emphasize my meaning. Scully, his tail wagging merrily, followed me ecstatically. The dog wasn't an overly intelligent creature; therefore, he wasn't anywhere near as fearful as me. I had never seen my dad so worried before.

As I entered my house, I heard a deafening series of CRACK CRACK CRACK! I turned around to see my dad clutch his chest, red liquid seeping from between his fingers. Scully began barking thunderously and ferociously as I flung open the door, dashing to my dad's side. The wounds were extremely lethal; unbelievably, Samuel Niquolai was still barely alive.

"Lex…" my dad rasped, attempting feebly to move his head.

"I'm here, Dad. I'm here!" I cried, cradling my dad's head in my arms.

"I love you, son. Always… remember that. Get paper. Hurry! I won't last much longer."

"Don't say that, Dad! We'll get you help!" I said, but even as the words came from my mouth, I could tell they were not true. The wounds were fatal.

I quickly dashed into the house, returning with a small piece of paper and a pencil. "Write this down and call the number…" my dad wheezed. "346-9822. Goodbye… my son. I will always be proud of you." With those final words, Samuel Niquolai exhaled loudly and died. I roared angrily at the sky, at everyone and everything! At the dark-skinned man. It was obvious my dad had seen him as a threat and had wanted to safeguard his son from the dark-skinned man's malicious, sick acts.