I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER

Chapter 1- Rachel

Rachel Glass ran, her shoes pounding on the cement, and sweat pouring down her pale face. She hurried into a department store, and into one of the dressing rooms. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror facing her. She was an average looking fifteen year old American girl with dirty blond hair and ice- blue eyes. But they were exhausted eyes; eyes that had seen too much.

Rachel heard footsteps just outside the dressing room. A woman's voice said curtly, "Young lady, are you okay?"

"Fine," Rachel called back. It was more of a gasp, considering she was totally out of breath.

"But you don't-" the saleswoman suddenly paused, then shouted out angrily, "Excuse me? What are you doing?"

The sound of a gun going off nearly deafened Rachel. She backed against the wall, hardly daring to breath. "Rachel!" A man called through the door. "Rachel, come out!"

"Leave me alone! Please!" Rachel cried.

"Rachel, if you don't come out I'll just have to kill your brother," the man said calmly. "Do you want me to do that?"

Rachel took a deep breath. There was nothing for it. She stepped forward and opened the dressing room door.

A man stood there, stuffing a gun inside his jacket pocket, the handle sticking out. The man was large and deeply tanned. His hair and eyes were jet black. Rachel looked into those eyes, and felt a cold shudder pass through her. She quickly averted his eyes.

"See? Isn't it so much easier- not to mention braver- to give in? To not hide like a coward? You're a strong girl, Miss Glass. I respect that about you. Come and give me a hug."

"Stay away from me!" Rachel shouted, tears flowing down her pale cheeks. The man leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the shaking girl.

Rachel took her chance. She pulled the gun from the man's pocket, and broke free of his grasp. She held the gun on him, the hand holding the weapon shaking violently.

The man shot her a wry smile. "You're not going to shoot me," he said with certainty. "I know you-" he jumped with a yelp as Rachel fired the gun inches from his foot.

"Try me," Rachel replied, her voice slowly growing stronger. "Where's Sean? What has your lunatic bossees at Scorpia done with him?"

"Why don't I take you to him?" The man suggested.

Rachel signaled to the door with the gun. "Lead the way."

They walked out the door. Rachel wanted to call someone for the saleswoman, but knew taking her attention from this man would be a very big mistake.

They headed to a discreet black van parked at the curb next to the store. Rachel was so focused on her destination that she did not notice the boy until he promptly kicked her legs out from under her. She got a look at him as he tried to wrestle the gun away from her: He was about her age, and very fit. His hair was fair, his eyes brown, and altogether very attractive.

Of course Rachel didn't think this as she rolled around the ground, struggling to hold the gun. "Stop!" She shouted at the boy. "You don't understand!" She heard a car sppeding away, and knew the man had escaped.

The boy finally managed to tear the gun from her grasp, and took out the bullets. Rachel raised an eyebrow. Who the hell was this kid?

"You're a little young to play with guns," the boy said in a British accent. They were in England after all. "You could kill someone."

"Yeah?" Rachel replied coldly. "Well, thanks to you someone I love will most likely die. I hope you're happy."

A policeman stepped up to them, his gun raised. "Drop the weapon and raise your hands," he ordered. "You too, young lady."