A/N: Here's the sequel. Hope you enjoy, and leave a review.
MI6 Special Operations
The boy lying by the swimming pool located inside the premises of a mansion on King's Road, formerly owned by a man named Ian Rider, was sipping a pineapple smoothie, and enjoying the lap of luxury. After all a hundred thousand pounds was a lot of money, and Alex hadn't felt like saving too much.
He was as fit as ever, in his swimming trunks, and had, in the last week, attracted more girls than he could count. But he wasn't too interested in girls. He was more interested in surviving, and when you're the most junior agent in MI6 Special Operations Division, surviving, is more difficult than it seems.
Tom Harris was lying on a deck chair next to him, and they were talking about who would win the upcoming game between Chelsea and Liverpool. Both were staunch Chelsea supporters, and Tom, had managed to rustle up two tickets for the sold out game.
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The MI6 HQ, was the same as ever. Its cover as a bank had long since been found out by many terrorist organizations, and it was time to relocate. But Alan Blunt was so convinced that his security system was flawless, that he did not heed the numerous reminders of his deputy, Mrs. Tulip Jones.
If you some how managed to get past the gate, where there were cameras manned twenty four hours a day, then you got to the reception, with seemingly no security, but the front door was in fact a metal detector, that had been upgraded not to be fooled by polymer handguns. Then you managed to get past a number of security men, armed with semi automatic Mark V .9 handguns, and into the elevator, which again scanned you with infrared beams, and if satisfied, took you to your destination.
The sixteenth floor was equipped with full pressure pads, and pin sized cameras that relayed footage to a security booth, where an alarm was equipped, and if necessary, a chopper could carry a team of SAS soldiers to the building in under forty two seconds.
Making it this far is impossible unless you are authorized. Office 1642 has so many alarms, that even sneezing at the doorway, would trigger at least one of them.
This room was the office of Alan Blunt. It was sparsely furnished, even though this was the most important room in the building, and housed the most important man in the organization.
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Julia Rothman sat at her executive desk, going through a report she had just received, from the field. Everything was going according to plan. A Middle Eastern businessman had contacted Scorpia earlier that day, and had made his intentions clear. If Scorpia did carried out their assignment, then the next day, their common Swiss Bank account, would suddenly gain five billion dollars. Of course it was a long term project, with over ten assignments, but the executive board had nothing to worry about. They gave the orders. That was all.
The building that she was in was designed to look like the office of a businessman. It had been registered under the name of Asipcor & Co. There was enough security around the building to take an army.
She looked up, and smiled at her secretary. She had been voted, the chief executive of this operation. Of course something might have to be done about Levi Kroll. He never had been very efficient, but then again, she hadn't been too fond of him in the first place.
The bomb would be primed in exactly three days. It would have to be remote detonated, and Rothman couldn't wait to press the button. But she knew that she had to do things systematically. Otherwise there might be glitches. Like the times that Alex Rider was there.
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Alex got up, and went into the house, to bathe. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with Tom. Jack was visiting her aunt in Bristol, and it seemed, as though nothing could go wrong.
They were going to the bar that evening, but most of all Alex was grateful, that he could finally live a normal life. He had no idea of what was coming his way.
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"Alan," Mrs. Jones said. She hardly ever called her superior officer by his first name, except under unimaginable circumstances. This one was worthy of it.
Blunt looked up from a file he was reading, and raised his eyebrow.
"We just intercepted an email from a member of Scorpia. We may have a problem."
She then proceeded to tell Blunt about their murdered agent, and then describe the scale of Scorpia's operation.
Blunt looked disturbed, and shook his head when his deputy finished. He analyzed the situation, and then asked, "Who was murdered?"
Mrs. Jones hesitated. "It was…"