Disclaimer: Alex Rider and characters belong to none other than Anthony Horowitz, This story is a work of fiction with no intent to claim ownership of any of the characters in the Alex Rider Series.
Author's Note: This prologue has been edited slightly, with the major details being changed to reflect more current events in American schools. As I am American, please tell me if there is anything I can do to properly reflect British schooling, thanks :)
A dull voice sounded in the classroom. An average Tuesday in Brookland Comprehensive High school. It was sixth period, directly after lunch. All over the building, the students were still riled up after their short lunch period. Students tried (and failed) to sneakily eat the remnants of their lunch, Teachers around the building scolded their hyper active and talkative students. Unlike his peers, Alex Rider sat at full attention in his seat in Honors Biology. His classroom stood in the corner of the building, Room C210.
His eyes were unfocused, face pointed at the board, but his ears were not listening to the teacher drone on and on about the nitrogen cycle: how it affects multiple ecosystems and organisms. His mind was drawn to more important topics: The disaster that was his most recent mission. It had started out simple, infiltrate a growing drug ring targeting teens and children as dealers and runners. Easy enough.
The first three weeks were routine as he slowly gained the trust of the thugs in charge. The following weeks was when the shit began to hit the fan, metaphorically speaking. His cover was slowly chipped away as the overseers of the operations grew skeptical of his identity. Alex was somewhat healthy, whereas the rest of the children they employed were scrappy and beaten down. Most were homeless, and they looked (and smelled) like it.
Alex on the other hand, despite his masterful acting, was exposed when one of his colored contacts had fallen out in the middle of a deal. The ever paranoid ringleader panicked and ordered his men to "get rid of the evidence".
Meaning, most of his dealers, the large amount of children aged 6-18 were "dealt with". Alex had left the base with his hands stained with the blood of innocent children, and the men who killed them. The whole operation was a few of the runners survived, but around 80% were eliminated. Blunt wasn't overjoyed with the fact that Alex had allowed the ringleader to escape, but his work overall did allow MI6 to keep tabs on him. Despite his would-be failure, Alex was successful in taking down the drug ring. He killed most of the ringleader's staff, but left a few alive for information gathering and job, begrudgingly taken, was over.
He was snapped out of his internal monologue by his teacher's monotone voice.
"Mr. Rider, since you are so intently paying attention, could you please tell me the use of nitrogen in the human body?"
Alex paused for a fraction of a second, pulling the information to the front of his mind. "Nitrogen is in amino acids, which help create proteins and make up the DNA in the body." He supplied a somewhat dumbed down definition, but he wasn't too interested in the nitrogen cycle currently. He already knew the material for this unit, and the next four, by heart.
Satisfied that Alex knew at least a bit of what he was teaching, Mr. Allen turned his attention back to the board. Alex was in no way an imbecile, his main problem lay in his frequent and lengthy absences. He would return after multiple days or weeks, battered and bruised, looking more and more exhausted after each period. After each absence, he would seem less and less like the cheerful boy he was in the beginning of his freshman year.
His eyes were dark, cold and calculating. His posture was tense and lax at the same time, a coiled spring. Whenever Alex entered the room, his eyes flashed over everything, taking in minute details.
With his absences Alex Rider had a particular knack for attracting rumors among students and staff alike. Drugs said some, while others protested he was too smart for that. Abuse said others, yet he was an orphan with a close relationship with his loving guardian Jack Starbright. Trouble with the law, gangs, and all sorts of wild speculations were whispered around him.
Alex sighed once more as he failed to understand the relevance of the lesson. His education was greatly furthered by MI6, and his own attraction to knowledge. With his rigorous self studying habits, Alex could have been taking his A-levels in his third year. Yet he was stuck in year ten, with the rest of his age group.
Drawing his attention back to the board, Alex tried his best to pay attention to his somewhat boring, early thirties teacher. He had been failing at staring at the board when he flicked his eyes out the window. A black van had pulled up to the building without his notice. Not a good sign, if his instincts had any input. Alex lifted himself up, as if to alert his teacher when the sounds of muffled pops resounded through the building. Seemingly everyone froze, excluding Alex. Fifty seconds later, Mr. Allen and several other students remembered their shooting protocol and rushed to the door. Securing the specialty door stop, locking the door, and turning off the lights, the rooms inhabitants retreated to the back corner of the room in petrified silence.
Two minutes later loud footsteps down the hallway broke the stunned quiet. Muffled sobs and whispers were cut off as a hand jiggled the locked door knob. Faint murmuring was heard through the wood door, and as soon as it started, it stopped. The students hear metal clanking. Then came the crash. Oak splintered as some sort of battering ram was thrown into the doorknob and jamb. The cracking continued until the tip of a crowbar was visible in the gap.
With seemingly inhuman strength, the door was wrenched open. The security door stopper was smashed and three men in dark tactical gear strode into the biology classroom. Each brandishing a semi automatic machine gun.