A New Plan

A New Plan

A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the entire island of Manhattan in a blinding, white light which lasted only a few seconds. The rain continued coming down, falling faster than before. Before anyone could have guessed it, the streets were quickly flooded, the rainwater rushing into the sewers.

A sleek, black sports car suddenly turned the corner around a small apartment house and started to pick up speed as it drove down a dark and foggy street. The driver's face would be hidden from any onlookers, due to the dark, tinted windows of the car. The car sped past a numerous amount of small shops, apartment buildings, and office buildings, before finally coming to a stop next to a curb in front of a twenty-story office building. The car's engine was then shut off.

The back door behind the driver was opened, and a man in a large, black trench coat climbed out. He then shut the door behind him, and went over to the passenger side door. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small umbrella, which he unfastened and opened. Holding the umbrella in his right hand, he bent down and opened the passenger door.

The man in the passenger seat got out of the car, and went under the umbrella that the other man was holding. The man in the trench coat then handed the umbrella to the passenger, who shook the excess water out of his black, scraggly hair, and took the umbrella. He was wearing a black, neatly tailored suit, and dark sunglasses that disguised his eyes. He wasn't wearing a jacket, but that didn't matter, since the car was already parked close to the entrance of the building. Before the man could start walking away from the car, the man with the trench coat spoke.

"Do you want the car parked somewhere else, Mister Valson?" The man had a slight hint of an Australian accent in his voice, but he talked in near-perfect English.

Valson looked over at the man and shook his head briefly. He spoke with a strong British accent. "No. Keep it here, the meeting won't be long."

The man handed over the umbrella, and Valson took it gratefully. The rain was coming down even harder now than before, making him have to squint to see through the dense fog. Valson then stepped away from the car, and started walking towards the building. There was barely any traffic, partly due to the late evening hours, but mostly due to the weather. The man picked up his pace, hurrying across the street, and arriving at the revolving doors of the entrance. He pushed through the revolving doors and stepped into the main lobby of the building.

The lobby was not at all like the kind of lobby that would be seen in an office building. The beautiful, marble flooring expanded throughout the entire space of the room, and seemed to sort of meet the reflective wood paneling along the walls. There were several other doors along the other sides of the room, all of which lead to different office rooms. A large, glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting light down into the spacious room. There were several potted plants positioned around the room, as well. Various pieces of furniture were placed around the room, with leather couches placed along side each other in the center of the room and along the walls, some with oak tables in front of them and some without. Valson made his way through the room, and went over to the elevators on the right of the main desk. He came up to the nearest elevator, which was already opened, and stepped inside of it. He pressed one of the buttons on the control panel, and the elevator started to rise. A few moments later, the elevator soon slowed to a stop, and the door slid open. Valson walked out of the elevator and into the hallway, heading down the hallway, picking up his pace as he went. He walked past several doors with signs mounted near them, each of them reading either a room number or a room title. Soon, he arrived at one of the doors nearest the end of the corridor. There was no sign saying what the room was, or what number it was. Without hesitation, Valson pushed the door open and walked inside.

The new room that he was in was about the size of a dining room. There was only one window, which covered one entire wall, and looked out over the view of the Manhattan Island. There was a large, wooden table made out of a rare type of wood that stood in the center of the room, and along the two longer sides of it sat exactly seven people, all of them dressed as if they were part of an important business meeting. Everyone looked up at Valson as he walked in, but nobody said anything. They all knew why they were here, and all of them knew what the meeting was going to be about.

None of them were businessmen. That was for certain. Each person sitting around the table was a board member for the crime organization known as Scorpia. Sabotage, corruption, intelligence, and assassination. Each member of the board knew each other. Some had tried to kill each other, others had worked together. However, no matter what they're past problems or associations with each other were, they were now all united under Scorpia. Their name was heard of all around the world. Certain secret service agents, government officials, and even local law enforcement officials have all somewhere along the line run into something Scorpia related, whether it was an assassination or assassination attempt, vandalism, bribery, or mass destruction on a large scale. Scorpia was once a much feared name. However, lately, that had changed.

Valson walked over to far end of the table and sat down. He cast a quick glance around at each of the faces that were now looking at him, and recognized a few of them from either the news, or from pictures in newspapers and magazines. All of them were well known for their crimes, but none of them boasted about it. They did what they did not for recognition, but for profit. Each crime they committed was actually an assignment given to them by a specific 'customer'. For example, if a very rich businessman in Russia wanted his opposing company's owner to be done away with, Scorpia would make that happen, and in return, the Russian would give them the money that he had promised them. Scorpia did nothing just for the thrill of it or the recognition for it. They did everything for money.

However, lately, things had taken a turn for the worst. Two past board members had died, within the span of four months. The first was Julia Rothman, the second Winston Yu. Valson was the new head of the board, but he was unnerved by the fact that two previous board directors had died so very close together in terms of time. However, Valson had not called this board together to discuss a new proposal from a new customer. This time, he had only one thing in mind, and that was what he wanted to discuss with the board.

"Good morning, everyone," Valson began. "My name, as you all may already know, is Michael J. Valson. I am the new head of the board for Scorpia. I have asked you all to be here today to discuss our next assignment. As I am well aware, our projects have failed not once, but twice before. First there was Invisible Sword. I need not remind you of what happened there. Five months ago, there was the failure at Dragon Nine. I assume that you all know what caused these failures, am I correct?"

No one at the table said anything. They were all thinking the exact same thing.

Valson continued a few moments later. "That schoolboy, Alex Rider. He caused Invisible Sword to fail. He was there at Dragon Nine, which means that he must have had some part in the destruction of Royal Blue. Now I ask you, ladies and gentlemen," There were two women in the room. "What do you propose we do about this boy?"

One of the women spoke. "A schoolboy?"

Valson nodded. "Yes. Alex Rider, however, is no ordinary boy."

He slid his hand onto the table and picked up a small object. There were four or five buttons on it, none of them labeled. Valson aimed the remote at the wall behind him, and pressed one of the buttons on the left of the object. Suddenly, a white overhead screen slowly came down. Valson aimed up the remote up at the ceiling and pressed another button. One of the ceiling tiles slid to the right, and a small projector protruded down from the ceiling. It clicked on, and suddenly the lights in the room dimmed.

The screen projected a picture of a boy, with fair, brown hair, and a lean, fit body. He looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, and was standing next to a man who looked sort of similar to the boy himself.

Valson continued to speak. "The boy on the right is Alex Rider. On the right is Ian Rider. This picture was taken almost a year and a half ago, back when Ian Rider was still alive. He was murdered a few months after this picture was taken, by one of our very own."

Valson pressed another picture onto the screen. It was a picture of an aging man, with swept-back graying hair, and dead, lifeless eyes. "This is Alan Blunt. I am sure that you all know who he is. Head of MI6 Special Services. And this –"

He projected a new picture up on the screen. It showed a woman in her mid thirties to early forties, with short, black hair, and dark brown eyes. She was wearing an expensive-looking business suit, and seemed to be looking at something past the camera.

"Is Tulip Jones," Valson ignored the man on his left who stifled a laugh after hearing her first name. "She is the head of Special Operations for MI6. Her, along with Blunt are both very powerful, and persuasive. I know this from experience."

He paused and coughed, then continued on.

"About one year and a half ago, Alan Blunt recruited a teenage boy by the name of Alex Rider to MI6. It was, and still partially is to date, the most outrageous and incredulous thing that any secret service agency has ever done. Recruiting a fourteen-year-old schoolboy to be a spy?" He paused. "It seemed like it was mad to do it at that time. However, Alex Rider has been successful for each and every assignment that MI6 asked him to do. The third assignment that he was recruited for, however, was by the CIA. The Dragon Nine catastrophe was a task forced upon him by the Australian Secret Service. So far, Rider has worked for MI6, the CIA, and the ASIS.

Valson pressed a different button on the remote and a new picture came up, this one of a short, stocky man with thick black hair, and sunglasses covering his eyes. Valson continued to talk. "This is Herod Sayle. He was the man behind the Stormbreaker project. He was killed on the same day when every single Stormbreaker computer was supposed to be brought online. Alex Rider proved that every single computer contained a lethal virus; one that could have killed millions of innocent children and teachers if the computers were activated. Rider prevented that by destroying the command console that was supposed to bring the computers online.

Moving his finger over, Valson pressed a different button on the remote, showing a large, modern building perched near a mountain peak; the snow covered mountain range around it reflecting in the camera.

"There were a few other incidents that Rider was involved in. Point Blanc, an all-boy's academy in Scandinavia was shut down, due not only to the abuse of children, but also to the fact that the man who ran the academy, 'Doctor Grief', was mad, and was trying to actually clone the boys who went there. Rider, of course, proved what Grief was doing, and helped lead the assault that shut down the place for good.

Valson clicked his finger on a button on the remote quickly now, going through the pictures a bit faster. The picture that was now on the screen showed a map picture of a small island near Cuba.

"Rider was then sent to a small island in the Mediterranean region, known as Skeleton Key. His reasons being there are unknown to us at the moment, but the man who Rider was surveying killed himself, also for reasons that are not yet known to us.

A new picture flashed up onto the screen. Damian Cray was seen on the overhead now, shaking hands with the American president. Valson still continued to talk.

"Damian Cray, as I'm sure you all know well by now, was world renowned. Wanting to help the environment, his songs about humanity, Cray seemed to be a very good man. However, his ways of going about to get his goals and dreams accomplished were far from humane. It was said that he was going to use American SCUD missiles to destroy many regions of the world, especially those with important drug manufacturing plants. To do this, it is said that Cray actually brought Alex along with him on Air Force One to witness Cray's plan in action. Cray had the missiles launched, but a short time later he was killed. Alex Rider destroyed the missiles before they could reach their targets, and brought Air Force One in, literally, for a crash landing. The boy's lucky he wasn't killed. We also lost one of our best agents on that plane, but I do not think that Rider killed him."

He pressed the same button on the remote, and a picture of a short, lean man with black hair, and a round face appeared on the screen. He was standing next to a teenage boy with dark, blonde hair, and facial features that greatly resembled those of the man next to him.

Valson continued talking. "This is Nikolai Drevin and his son Paul. Drevin, as I am sure you all remember, was the Russian multi-billionare who was in charge of the 'Ark Angel' project. Alex Rider was sent in to Drevin's estate to keep a close watch on him, and found out that Drevin was actually planning on destroying all of Washington D.C. with his so-called 'space hotel'. Rider stopped him, of course, and destroyed the structure; in outer space, as well."

There was a slow murmer of voices as Valson said this, and he waited for the talking to quiet down. He then continued again.

Valson pressed another button on the remote, and two pictures showed up, side by side. One was of a woman. She was beautiful, with dark, brown hair, and dark brown eyes. She was wearing a business suit with a skirt, and on her left hand she wore a golden watch.

"This is Julia Rothman," Valson said. "She was one of our first directors, but she was killed right after the failure of Invisible Sword. Our Invisible Sword operation took place before the Arc Angel incident, however. We sent one of our best marksmen to kill Rider after everything was set and done in South London. As it turns out, the bullet that hit him missed his heart by a tenth of an inch." He motioned to the picture on the left of Julia Rothman. "And this is Major Winston Yu. He was our last director of Scorpia, but he too was killed. His body was found on his boat, a few miles away from Dragon Nine."

Valson shot a quick glance around the room at the seven other people. Each of them seemed tired, but attentive. Valson couldn't blame them. They're plans had been medaled with two times too many. He pressed a new button on the remote, and the projector shut off. The screen rose back into the ceiling, and the lights slowly brightened once again, flooding the room in light. Valson sat down at the edge of the table, and straightened out his tie.

"Alex Rider, as I have shown you, is no ordinary London school boy. He was raised by a man who was a superb spy for MI6. All his life, Alex Rider has been trained by his uncle, who hoped that maybe one day Rider would follow in not only his uncle's, but in his father's footsteps, as well."

One of the women at the table spoke up. She had a strong Italian accent. "Michael, how could one schoolboy do all of that by himself?"

Valson looked at her, obviously irritated. "Rider has had the British Secret Service behind him, as well as a few others during his past missions, Miss Vicci. I don't think you understand how wise Alan Blunt is. My sources tell me that Alan Blunt and Tulip Jones both manipulated Rider into working for them on his first mission. After that, Rider found himself in various predicaments when he had no other option than to work for MI6."

The woman remained silent and slumped down in her seat. Before Valson could start talking again, one of the men on the opposite side of the woman spoke up.

"Who exactly is your source, Mister Valson?"

Valson looked at him, and said sincerely, "His name was Ash. He was working undercover for us at the ASIS. He was... Rider's godfather."

Everyone looked up as he said this. Valson ignored them and continued anyway.

"Ash was one of our best agents. He was feeding us information about the Australian Secret Service, but all the while he was under suspicion by them. He was shot and killed at Dragon Nine, by an MI6 operative. The week before he died, he messaged me all of the information he could. He tricked Alex Rider on his side, and even sabotaged one of Rider's gadgets, so we could easily capture him. However, you all know what happened…"

Valson cleared his throat and looked around the room once again.

"The reason I asked you all here today, is for one reason, and one reason only. From what I have just shown you on the screen, I hope that you all agree with me when I say that our next target will be, without question…"

He looked briefly around the room before continuing his sentence.

"…Alex Rider."