Author's Note: I asked Mr. Horowitz very nicely, but he still refused. So, until he concedes, Alex Rider (and all other recognizable characters) remain in his possession. sigh
A Few Good Men
Prologue
Big Circle, London's most notorious Chinese crime syndicate, was plotting - and the outcome was guaranteed to leave someone's cadaver lying in the dust.
Britain's international espionage and warfare department, M16, had been put through biological warfare, local drug trafficking, and assaults on their best and most valuable agents, the results of which M16 nevermanaged to pin on Big Circle.
M16 was, by no means, going to underestimate them again. M16's last undercover operation to gather evidence of Big Circle's criminal activities resulted in a bits and pieces of their Asiatic Field Squad showered over an area of 4500 kilometers.
Grapevines all over the world revealed that Big Circle was, once again, up to something. A national crime syndicate could hardly be planning a bakesale...
There was one reliable source and one source only. Now, whether M16 can scrounge up an amount high enough to make her betray the only person she has ever loved, is an entirely different matter.
Chapter One
"She has what we need. She has it. I know she does. She has our information." Blunt said, on one of the rare occasions he lost his temper.
"That she does. The problem is that she won't give it to us." Mrs. Jones pushed a button. The potted plant shed the appearance of a potted plant and revealed a video screen.
The grainy video footage showed a girl slamming her fist on the table, and getting up to stride through the door. Suddenly the girl closed the door, walked in reverse, sat down and put her fist onto the table only to lift it up again. Her face suddenly changed from angry to calm, and back again. There was only one logical reason for this...
"Alan. Please do stop playing with the rewind button." Mrs. Jones chided her partner.
Alan's hands quickly hid themselves from sight.
The artificially intelligent machine righted itself and started to play the footage, showing a sparse room with two chairs opposite each other on both sides of a table. A man sat on one side, negotiating with someone more than twenty years his junior.
"Please," the man said. "Tell us what you know."
"No. Has my answer ever been any different? It was no last month, it was no yesterday. The answer is still no. Have I not made my point clear? No. Never. Jamais. Nunca. Mai. Nie." Rejection came in multiple languages.
"Fine." The man seemed to have lost his patience. "If you can't be convinced, you can be bought." He took out a pad of paper and a cheap ball point pen. The man scribbled a quick sum onto the paper and ripped it off the pad almost savagely. He, having watched an enormous sum of bad movies, proceeded to turn the paper over and slide it towards the girl.
The girl picked up the paper like it was infected, with the least amount of contact possible. She read the sum with non-existent expression. Without taking her eyes off the number in front of her, she stretched her hand out and said a single word: "Pen."
The pen was rolled over to her. It was her turn to be dramatic. She wrote with the utter concentration and slow precision of a child, penning each letter carefully. It was clear, in the way she spoke, in the way she held herself, that she resented being childlike when her childhood had been lost in gunfire.
She finished writing and the paper was returned to the man. He read her reply, growing - if possible - even more flustered.
"Why do you have to be so difficult, Marin?!" The man bellowed.
"BECAUSE. HE IS THE ONLY ONE I HAVE." She said with gritted teeth, accompanied by her fist connecting solidly with the table. She got up with so much force, her chair screeched in protest. And then she was heading towards the door.
Mrs. Jones hit the pause button, freezing her image halfway through the doorway. She glanced as Blunt, her gaze questioning.
"Interesting." Blunt mused. "What did she write on the note?"
"FUCK YOU."
"She's fiery, that one."
"Of course. Now what do you plan to do about that?"
Alan appeared to not have heard. Her final words played themselves in his mind. He is the only one I have...He is the only one I have...he...he...
"Tulip, I know exactly what I plan to do." Blunt retorted. He steepled his fingers in thought. "Bring in Alex."