A/N: Alright, peeps, here 'tis! The long-awaited (not) Alex Rider fic from yours truly. Have fun and please don't flame!

Disclaimer: Okay, if I'm a theater chick, that implies I'm a girl, right? So why do I need to say that I am not Anthony Horowitz, who is a man and the owner of the Alex Rider series? I don't even own Jess; I don't approve of slavery.

Prologue: A Mad Scheme

The head of MI6 sat across from the woman in the pressed navy jacket. Neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was that of their quiet breathing, punctuated occasionally by the crinkle of one of the woman's peppermint wrappers. Alan Blunt didn't comment on his subordinate's habit; he never did. It was just part of what made Mrs. Jones who she was.

Finally, Blunt broke the silence. He leaned forward on the mahogany table and remarked, "I think the young Mr. Rider has done quite well."

Mrs. Jones said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you?" he pressed. "He took care of Sayle as well as any of our senior spies. There would have been nary a casualty, too, if Gregorovitch hadn't stepped in."

"The boy did well, yes," she responded. "But the key word in that sentence is 'boy'. He is a child, Alan!" She leaned toward him. "He shouldn't be asked to save the world."

Blunt frowned and protested, "We didn't ask him to save the world. And-"

"Yet," Mrs. Jones cut in. "We did ask him to save his country, though. I know you, Alan, and I also know that you won't stop there. You'll look at Alex and see someone qualified to stop World War Three, and you will blatantly ignore the fact that he is a schoolboy!"

Blunt calmly waited out her little speech. "Are you finished?" he asked quietly when she stopped speaking. Mrs. Jones glared briefly at him, and then nodded. "Good. Now, as I was saying," he paused to give her a sharp look, "he has done well, and I think we should look in to others."

Mrs. Jones stared blankly at him.

"Other children, preferably teenagers, who can go where adults can't. Children who have the training or natural ability - or both - to become spies." He plowed on, heedless of the look on Mrs. Jones' face that was equal parts shock and outrage. "Think about it: We have had numerous experiences where children could have managed something more quickly or unobtrusively than adults. And how many situations have we watched helplessly, knowing that if we had children, we could intervene?" Mrs. Jones opened her mouth, but Blunt held up a hand to quiet her. "Don't answer that; it was rhetorical." She started to speak, but again Blunt held up his hand.

"Listen, nobody ever expects, or suspects, children. They would be the perfect secret weapon. We would always have the element of surprise! Besides, if we needed multiple children for one mission, or we were running more than one separate mission that required young people, we would have them ready on hand! So, my dear -" he leaned forward further - "what do you think?"

For a moment, Mrs. Jones could only sputter. Finally, she took a deep breath and answered Blunt's question.

"What do I think?" she said through gritted teeth. "What do I think? I think you've taken leave of your senses!" Her voice rose to a shout as she spoke.

"These are children we're talking about here, Alan, real people! Not just expendable pieces on a chessboard! This isn't a game - you know that as well as I do - and people are not pawns to be manipulated!" She actually rose from her seat in her passion.

"These are real people, with real lives! We can't just walk up to them and say, 'Come on, leave your family, your friends, your home, and all you've ever known just to come be trained to do work that could well be the gruesome and untimely death of you on the off chance that you can help us!' I tell you -" she leaned forward on her knuckles, and her voice became deadly quiet - "if you go through with this half-brained idea, this mad scheme, of yours, you're no better than the people we fight; because you prove that you will stop at nothing to further your cause. Now give me one reason - one good reason - for me to support you in this." She straightened, folded her arms, and awaited his answer.

It was not quick in coming. Blunt sat silently for quite some time, seeming to discard idea after idea in pursuit of one that would persuade her. Finally, he looked up from the point on the table at which he had been staring for the past five minutes, looked her square in the eyes, and spoke.

"We need them," he said simply. Mrs. Jones began to speak, but he merely held up his hand for silence. "Please, hear me out." She shut her mouth reluctantly, sat down, and glared at him, which he took as a sign to continue."Our enemies will expect adults. Why, even I would expect adults. And because of that, we need children. It will keep our enemies on their toes, and possibly even sow the seeds of uncertainty that would blossom into discord. Now, I'll admit, this is a best-case scenario; I don't even want to think about the worst-case." Mrs. Jones snorted at that, but otherwise remained silent. Blunt took that as a good sign.

"Listen, children like Alex Rider don't appear often. We might find children with the physical training, but not the psychological aptitude. Or vice versa. And even if we find someone who meets both the physical and mental requirements for spy, everyone needs something to fight for. Not everyone has that. Alex had his uncle's death to avenge and his mission to finish. Not everybody has such things. Street kids, for example, tend to be strong enough and smart enough to be spies. But they lack motivation. They won't want to fight for a country that forced them into the hard lives they live. We need people - and not just children, adults, too - with that drive. People like that...people who are cunning and smart; people who are strong and athletic; people with someone or something worth fighting for, worth protecting…they're rare. So if, by some miracle, we found such a child, who would be willing to work with us - would you support me? Will you stand by me in this?"

Mrs. Jones took a minute to consider his words, allowing them to paint a picture in her mind, before responding. "A pretty speech," she said slowly. With a rueful sigh, she added, "Effective, too. I'll stand by you, as you put it, on one condition."

"And what might that be, my dear?"

"Don't send them into any situation where their lives are likely to be endangered."

Blunt considered her words briefly before replying, "Every spy who takes on a mission puts his or her life at risk. You know that."

"I do," Mrs. Jones said. "I just -" she paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "I guess what I'm saying is that I just don't want them in more danger than necessary."

Blunt nodded. "I understand. So, are we agreed?"

This time Mrs. Jones hesitated only a moment before answering.

"Yes."

A/N: *is jumping up and down* Well? Didja like it? Huh huh huh? Didja didja didja? Review, pretty pretty pretty please!

I can't thank authorEmilyRay enough for being my beta for this! She thrashed out a lot of details for me, mostly grammatical *looks sheepish* but also issues with characters, and really made this story what it is. Thankies sososososo much!

So who is Jess? Why did Blunt even propose this "half-brained idea, this mad scheme"? And why the heck is Mrs. Jones agreeing to it? *cue dramatic music* Read on and find out.