It Had To Be Him
Joe Bryne was having a pretty good day; no one died yet, his wife hadn't called him and neither had Alex Rider.
Ring! Ring!
He had spoke too soon.
"Hello?" he spoke into the phone, praying it wasn't the troubled teenage spy he told himself it was.
"Hi Joe!" the very voice of that troubled teenage spy spoke cheerfully. Joe learned very early on in his profession that a cheerful spy is a spy who wants something.
He sighed, "Who do I need to call?"
It was almost predictable. Alex calls and asks for help, then he "owes him one" and eventually he does a job for the CIA. Well, at least they got the work out of him for their services.
"No one." he stated. As you can see, the usual teenage spy isn't very talkative. They end up being a very rare species though, so we can't really blame them.
"Then why did you call?" his tone held the suspicion he hadn't yet voiced.
"I want a job."
"Why?" he didn't actually want to know the answer, but figured it'd be best for America if he asked. A spy scorned is not pretty.
"I was offered a job." He wasn't very good at beating around the bush. This is quite obvious.
"What job?" now he was getting irratated.
"DeputyHeadofMI6," he said quickly, jumbling up the words and making them sound like one.
Joe was shocked to say the least. "Deputy Head of MI6?" he asked, not sure he heard correctly. He was hitting his thirties after all, and you never know.
"Yeah." came the soft reply.
"Why are we whispering?" he whispered himself.
"I'm being watched."
"What? Why?"
"The Prime Minister wants me to come in Monday.
"So, the Prime Minister offered you the Deputy Head position and you don't want it?" He had to get his facts straight before continuing the conversation.
"Yeah, that's the gist of it." That may have been the longest sentence he's said yet.
"There's more?" He asked, incredously.
"I don't want to be Deputy Head. I need to get out of the country. Can you help?"
He sighed. "Sure. I'll call you after I sort it out."
Of course this had to happen to him.
Alex was glad to be on Joe's good side, even if it was just a step away from the bad.
He pressed the end button on his burner phone and silently placed it on the ground. Doing the only thing that he could, he pressed his boot against it.
After he got home, he checked for bugs, and after finding none, he decided it was safe to call Byrne. Of course, that didn't mean he'd use any phone that they knew of, so he took one from the dwindling supply of burner phones he kept in the wall behind his dresser. Better to be safe then caught.
But even then, he crushed the phone softly underneath his boot, not wanting to draw any attention from the noise that smashing it may cause.
He waited a couple of painful seconds for any noise signaling the team of "highly trained spies" heard. In his mind, if he could see them, they weren't as "highlly trained" as they should be.
Even though he'd been in the buisness for years, he was still only seventeen and if a seventeen year old could stop him, what would another target that actually wanted them dead have on them? Advantage; and nowadays, advantage was everything. You could sneak up on them without them realizing it, you could call in a guy.
In his experience, bad guys calling in a "guy" usually lead to snipers being placed strategically around the perimiter. And that never ended well; there was always at least one body at the end.
Come to think of it, that was probably the reason he hadn't had any sniper scares in a while. They most likely declined the jobs once they knew they were dealing with Alex; no one likes to have the Wrath of Alexander on their tail for the rest of their -short lived- lives.
The phone ringing brought him out of this thoughtful revine and back to the present. He answered it cautiously, thinking about how he needed caller ID for such occasions.
"Hello?" he answer, suspicion clear in his voice.
"Hello Alex," Byrne said.
"Oh, hi Joe. I was actually about to jump in the shower, can I call you back later?" This, he hoped, Byrne realized, was code for "let me turn on the shower and pick up a new burner"
"Okay Alex, I'll talk to you later." He nearly drew in a breath of relief, but his paranoia soon kicked in, making sure he didn't.
He galloped up the stairs, trying to make some noise, but his cat-like qualities made it hard. He turned on the shower, letting it sit there for a couple minutes before tip-toeing into his bedroom and removed the wooden panel after moving is dresser. He slipped a burner phone out of the small hole he carved there before he bought the package of burners.
He pulled the bedroom door closed tightly behind him and opened the bathroom door open soundlessly, slipping in as he dialed Byrne's number.
"Byrne," he answered coldly. Alex would have feigned offence had he not been paranoid (and with good reason) for any bugs that his sweeping machine didn't catch.
"Hey Joe, how's it going?" he smirked, knowing his easy-going tone was probably making Byrne peeved. He was serious on his first call to Byrne, so now Byrne was serious. And now Alex wasn't serious.
"I'm great, Alex." Byrne replied sardonically.
"That's good to hear. Did you deal with my little issue?"
He sighed, which was frightening to say the least; he never sighed. "No, Alex. There was nothing to do."
Alex was beyond outraged. Sure, he knew Byrne might not be able to help, but he didn't actually think about what he'd do if Byrne couldn't. "What? Why?" he asked, trying to compose himself and not succeeding as much as he had planned.
"It would be an act of war."
"Seriously?" He excalimed, letting his more teenage side come out before thinking about what he had said.
"Yes, Alex, 'seriously'." His almost patronising tone when he said seriously made Alex even more livid. "The Prime Minister sent an e-mail to the President." Well, there's modern technology for you.
"So, I really do need to go in Monday?"
He sighed, "Yes, Alex, I'm afraid you do. Try to brave through it. It shouldn't be hard considering all the national security missions you've gone on." His confidence in Alex was astounding. Did he really expect Alex to send agents to their impending doom after he'd nearly been there himself? His tone suggested he did.
"I guess I'll have to deal with it." He reasoned, then they said their goodbyes and hung up.
He sighed. It had to be him.
This was really hard to write, considering all the positiive feedback that "When All Is Said And Done" had gotten.
I hope this lived up to your expectations, everyone! Let me know what you thought by sending a quick review! I'd appreciate it- in fact, I'll give you a virtual hug!