Alex stood shivering on the platform at London Victoria station. It was nearly four o'clock in the morning and about as quiet as it ever got - the trains had started running only an hour ago, taking with them the late-night partygoers that had missed the last departure before the short break, and there was only a skeleton staff manning the ticket barriers and whistles.
When the train drew in, he walked halfway down the platform and got on alone, the closest people being a group which he thought might be bouncers, coming home at the end of a long night at a club. To an extent, they reminded him of the brawny henchmen invariably employed by the psychopathic supervillains he frequently went up against, but following The Incident (involving duct tape, a fire extinguisher and the bodyguard to the President of France), he had learned to think twice before assuming that everyone with a hint of muscle was out to get him.
Of course, he started to get suspicious when he heard he doors sliding open at the end of the carriage, quickly ducking down under the tiny plastic table, pulling his rucksack down with him and shoving it against the wall where it would be out of the way. If they were just ordinary civilians, he would probably get some weird glances if they saw him, but he could always pretend he was tying his shoelaces or looking for something he'd dropped. And if they were there with more nefarious purposes in mind, his disappearance might buy a little more time to work out what they wanted.
"Where'd he go?" one asked. Alex decided to call him Cockney, thanks to the thick London accent.
"Shut up, you idiot," said another, presumably the leader. "Keep moving."
Well, that settled the question of whether they were after him or not. Alex decided that the President's bodyguard had been a fluke and that maybe he should be paranoid after all. He glanced around but realised he'd effectively trapped himself in an awkward position and any attempt to get out would immediately alert the men to his presence there. But if he stayed where he was, they would certainly see him when they drew alongside and he would be completely vulnerable with no manoeuvrability. He realised he had no choice but to move and eased out slowly, until his head and shoulders were above the table and he could see what was going on.
There were three men. He couldn't tell which ones had spoken until he heard their voices again, but judging by his more authoritarian body language, he thought the one in front was probably the leader. His clothes were pretty plain but he was scowling heavily, so he received the nickname Grumpy. Alex bit back a snigger as Snow White and the Seven Dwarves popped into his head.
They hadn't seen him yet, but they soon would, so he had to move fast. They were close enough that he would have the element of surprise, which was just as well, if those bulges in their jackets were what he thought - yep, definitely guns. Wasn't that just perfect.
Ah, well. Nothing like an early morning fight to get the blood pumping. He launched himself out in a fluid motion, hitting Grumpy with a left hook to the jaw and grabbing his weapon with the other hand whilst the others staggered back in shock. Once, he would have been overcome by such a group of attackers, but now he was older and better trained and with hit first, ask questions later as his motto, he was quickly able to gain the upper hand.
Another calculated strike knocked Grumpy out cold, but now the other two had had a chance to prepare and he was faced with two guns pointed at him.
"Two can play at that game," he said, raising an eyebrow at them - and the gun which he had just confiscated. "Now, if you don't mind, I think we should just - watch out!" he exclaimed suddenly, wide eyes latching onto a point behind them. Both of them half turned and in that moment Alex struck out like a viper, knocking one out cold immediately and forcing the other's gun up to point at the ceiling whilst doing so. He hit a pressure point before the man had a chance to fire and took the weapon from his limp hands. The other gun had fallen onto a seat. He smirked as he picked it up.
"Safety still on. Excellent." He couldn't resist any longer and started gloating to himself. "Oldest trick in the book. I can't believe they fell for it!"
Luckily, a groan from Cockney interrupted him before he could start doing his happy jig and he went straight back to business.
"Right. What should I do with you lot, huh?"
He grabbed Grumpy and hauled him into a seat. The others got the same ignominious treatment, then he grabbed his rucksack and rifled through the pockets.
"Cable ties! Never go anywhere without them," he grinned. It was easy enough to secure the hands of each of them behind their backs, before searching them all quickly. Two had flick knives and the other had a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"Smoking kills," he muttered, and took the lot.
They also had wallets, which didn't contain much, only a couple of credit cards and a train ticket each. None of them was carrying ID. He shoved them in his bag as well - he wasn't in the mood to bring them in himself, and hopefully it would slow down their escape enough for MI6 to nab them. Speaking of which, he had to send Smithers a message, asking him to send agents and doctor the CCTV footage on the train.
They were waiting on the platform at the next station, dressed in sharp suits like characters out of Men In Black, but he didn't feel like talking to them so he moved two carriages down from the one he had told them to get on at and slipped away behind the waiting lounge.
The only trouble now was that there weren't any more trains for at least half an hour going in the right direction. At the same time, he didn't want to get back on the same one - if someone had known he was going to be there, others might too. Or maybe the same organisation would send more men when they realised the first lot had failed.
Actually… maybe there was a train he could get on after all. On the other side of the platform, one was waiting, the lights completely off. The screens read "not in service" - presumably it was just being transferred down the line and would pick up passengers from the other end.
The only problem was that the doors were sealed shut and trying to force them open or smash a window would attract the sort of attention he was trying to avoid. He almost gave up, but suddenly remembered something Smithers had given him - a keyring like a mini torch, but when he rotated the top a half-twist, it could be used to open lift doors, bypassing the need for a security code or card. He hadn't really understood the scientific explanation (after all, Blunt had made him miss half his GCSE science classes) but referred to it affectionately as his Sonic Screwdriver. He would need it later to access his target's penthouse apartment, but hopefully it worked on trains, too.
"Bingo," he whispered as the doors slid open. He got on, shut the door behind him and immediately ducked down. It was just as well - cautiously looking out of the window, he noticed a guard turn in his direction, looking confused. The woman took a few steps in his direction and he resisted the urge to shrink back, knowing that any movement would get him spotted. For a heart-stopping second she looked right at where he was, but finally turned away with a shrug and he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
He stayed below window level until the train departed, crawling on hands and knees along the aisle. When it was safe to stand, he smirked and took a seat in the First Class section, putting his feet up on the seat opposite. Disappointingly, the seats there were just as hard as in the rest of the carriage.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him and jumped, sitting up straight like a naughty schoolboy who had been caught in the act, as he was approached. This model of train didn't have doors between the compartments, and the woman had managed to get quite close before he noticed her.
He didn't recognise her at first. Her hair was darker and her skin had lost the freckles, and it was only when she smiled that he saw the resemblance to the fifteen-year-old ball girl laughing at rude jokes in the Wimbledon cafeteria, rather than the Hollywood superstar that she had become.
"Mind if I sit down?" she asked, removing the sunglasses that served no purpose except to hide her identity from fans or paparazzi. Her cockney accent had faded, leaving only the faintest clue to her London upbringing.
"Sabina Pleasure," Alex murmured. He caught himself staring (he was a hormonal guy, she was beautiful, it was only natural) and quickly hid it, gesturing to the seat opposite. "What do you want?"
"Can't it just be a happy coincidence?"
"With me, it's never a coincidence, and certainly not at four in the morning. So, out with it." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the plastic table and his chin on steepled hands. "What does an actress want with a spy?"
"It has nothing to do with acting - but you're right, of course, I knew you'd be here." She lowered her voice, even though there was noone there to hear them. "I came to warn you. My father was investigating a politician recently and heard your name mentioned. Some important officials want to get rid of you, and they're negotiating with a criminal organisation to bring you in."
"Not Scorpia?"
"No - as far as we know, they haven't reared their head since the last time you dealt with them, and that was when you were seventeen. This is a much smaller group - little more than armed thugs with an efficient leadership system."
"I hate to break it to you, Sab, but you're a bit late. I don't just ride out-of-service trains because there's plenty of room to stretch my legs. They found me on the last train. I left them trussed up ready for MI6 and scarpered. They weren't a problem - and I didn't think much of their leader, either."
"Oh, Alex, you don't think it's as easy as that, do you? They were just the hors d'oeuvres. The main course is still to come."
"How much do you know about their plans?" he asked, surprised at her confidence. Another thought occurred to him. "Actually, how did you know I'd be on this train?"
She stood and her expression changed, away from the familiar grin to an alluring pout tinged with sadness. "Because, Alex, you are utterly predictable."
Then she placed her fingers between her teeth and whistled. Alex scrambled to his feet and grabbed his bag - it had the weapons he'd confiscated - but Sabina snatched it away from him while he was fumbling for the zip, and he was left defenceless as armed men filed in and surrounded them, guns up and fingers on triggers.
"So I suppose you're the leader of this little gang then?" Alex asked Sabina, his voice deceptively calm. Inside he was shaking with the feeling of betrayal. In a lightning fast motion, he pulled her in front of him and brought a switchblade to her throat.
Rule one of espionage - never put all your weapons and gadgets in one place. Enemies have a nasty habit of finding them.
"Put your weapons down!" he barked. When they didn't move, he murmured into Sabina's ear, "Tell them to stand down or I swear I'll kill you."
"Oh, but she can't do that," came a drawling voice. The wall of men parted just enough and Alex recognised the Archetypal Villain, looking like he had a serious vitamin D deficiency with a vampire-like complexion under pale ginger hair. "She's just some whining bitch I blackmailed. She put up a bit of a fight at the start - oh no, not poor ickle Lexie-kins," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, "but she came round soon enough when I applied the right pressure." He grabbed Alex's hand which was holding the knife and pulled his pinky back sharply.
There was a sickening crack as the bone fractured, and Alex was forced to drop the weapon, but as his attacker sneered in triumph he suddenly shoved Sabina away and drew the man in to take her place, using a chokehold since his weapon was now lying uselessly on the floor.
"Ok, now make them put their weapons down," he said.
"I've wanted you dead too long. My life doesn't matter - I will be a hero for toppling the great Alex Rider!"
Alex realised where he was going with this and starting running, keeping the madman close as a human shield. He shoved him away just as he yelled for them to shoot, leaving him stumbling into the line of fire as he sprinted down the train as fast as possible.
However, there was no point trying to outrun a bullet and there he had to avoid the instead, ducking behind the chairs at the second set of doors he reached. He looked back just in time to see the villain fall under the hail of bullets.
A hush fell. Alex thought that perhaps the men hadn't really expected to kill their leader.
Frantically, he turned out his pockets with his good hand, hoping to find more weapons or gadgets. A distress signal would be nice, but then he realised he'd absentmindedly shoved his phone in his bag along with everything else. The only thing he had on him was his Sonic Screwdriver, and what was he going to do with that - die jumping out of a train moving at 70mph rather than at the end of a bullet? It might come in handy if they stopped at a station soon, but as it was he was expecting them to come after him any time now, once they overcame the shock and were ready to work without a leader.
And for once, Alex Rider had nothing. No plan, no clever gadgets, not so much as a witty one-liner. He thought this might, finally, be his end.
Glancing round the edge of the chair, he saw them lift their guns again and start moving down the train. The first shot rang out.
He shut his eyes, withdrawing again, and crouched, hunched up, waiting for death. It didn't come. There were no more shots after the first one. They were probably just conserving their ammo, or trying to trick him into coming out into the open. He looked anyway.
They had partially turned around, to his confusion. He cautiously stood a little higher and found a gap between the heads to see what was going on.
Sabina was standing, one gun still pointing in the air. Another she used to swing along the line of mercenaries threateningly.
"Alright, you lot!" she called. "Your leader's dead, the SAS are on their way and if any of you even thinks about moving, you'll get a bullet in the brain quicker than you can say au revoir. Got that?"
They exchanged glances, but nobody actually did anything. If their leader had still been alive, Sabina wouldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but as it was they had no orders and nobody wanted to risk her returning fire on them if they were the first to shoot. On the other hand, Sabina couldn't do anything, since the moment she fired she'd receive an onslaught of bullets. For the moment, they were in stalemate.
Alex knew he couldn't rely on back-up - they were on a moving train, and whatever Sabina may have said about the SAS, Alex knew his phone was fingerprint sensitive so he was pretty sure she was bluffing. It looked like he was the last pawn on the board that could move - but what was he going to do?
He crept back down towards them. Travelling down the aisle left him incredibly exposed, but everyone's attention was drawn to Sabina - how could it not be, with her incongruous glamour contrasting with the guns in her hands and the murky interior of the carriage?
Suddenly, he realised that the train was slowing down, even though from how far he guessed they were along the line, they weren't approaching a station yet. It took the men another minute to realise, but in the confusion that hit them when they did, he struck out, attacking one from behind and taking his gun. This one was stuck in the aisle at the back, and he was pointing the gun at the rest before they noticed him.
"You heard what she said. Now put your weapons down," he ordered.
They liked this situation even less, pinned on both sides. For a moment Alex thought they were about to do as he suggested.
"I think I'll take my chances," said a thin man with a bald head and weasel-like face, dashing Alex's hopes of a peaceful surrender.
A burst of gunfire sounded and the windows shattered - but it wasn't Weasel.
"SAS! Put your weapons down and your hands where we can see them."
Alex caught Sabina's eye, surprised. He hadn't really expected her to have called them. She grinned back, looking mischievous again.
The trained jerked completely to a halt and the gang gave up. Alex took the opportunity to get out, using his torch keyring to open the nearest door. He walked along to the next one and opened it, gesturing to Sabina and helping her down.
"So how did you contact this lot?" he asked her later, once he had had his little finger set by a medic.
"It was all planned," she smirked. "You didn't think I was really going to let myself be blackmailed into helping them, did you?"
"You had me worried for a moment there. Thanks for distracting them, by the way. How did you know they'd listen to you? They might have just shot you."
"I didn't. Things were progressing a little too quickly, and since I got you into that mess, I figured it was on me to take the risk."
"You really are my knight in shining armour, then. I really thought I was done for."
"Sir, there's a car waiting to take the two of you back to London. Your mission is actually set to start tomorrow," interrupted a young soldier.
"Come on then, damsel-in-distress," Sabina teased. "Your chariot awaits."
"What are your plans?" Alex asked as they settled in the back of the jeep.
"I'm not flying back to Hollywood until tomorrow," she said.
"Then it looks like we have a whole day to ourselves. Whatever will we do with that time?"
