Edited: March 2014
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SATURDAY
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.
Ryan tore through his sheets trying to find his buzzing-and very annoying-mobile. The thing had been buzzing for near ten minutes now and he was starting suspect that it wasn't a forgotten alarm, but either Sara or Max. Both were inclined to continuously call when in a panic, although it would be stupid beyond belief for Max to call him about anything short of Armageddon. But of course, this was Max and every little crisis was potentially world-ending.
Tearing the covers off and scattering the pillows about, Ryan heard his Sidekick 3 hit the hardwood floor next to his bed. Tossing aside the blanket he finally uncovered the thing and saw that it was Tom of all people who had been continuously calling. Ryan felt his stomach tighten just a bit as Tom had only ever done that once before.
Licking his lips nervously, he bent down and answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Where have you been?" Tom snapped. "I've been trying to call you!"
"Yeah, I'm aware," Ryan replied, unconcerned. "What's up?"
"Do you have any idea what they found in the bathroom up at Brookland?" Tom asked.
"Oh! Harris! I don't want to know!" Ryan exclaimed, thoroughly disgusted. There was no telling what they could find in those toilets and he didn't want to know what it was or how it got there. He was also extremely annoyed that Tom would even think of calling him about that once, much less twenty-three times in a row.
"Ryan!" Tom snapped again, only this time he sounded angrier than Ryan had ever heard him. "Somebody put the home economics mannequin in the bathroom. The same bathroom. They're saying the room looked exactly the same as that night!" Ryan froze, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He quickly reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out his albuterol inhaler. Bringing the small red, plastic device to his mouth he squeezed off two quick puffs and breathed in deeply as his airways flowed back open.
"When was this?" He asked, crossing his room and shutting the door. The last thing he needed was his nosy siblings hearing and squealing about it to his Mum.
"Last night," Tom told him. "Old man Yenker found it when he was mopping up."
"That poor old man should really stop working there," Ryan mumbled unable to come up with anything appropriate to say and so fell back into his familiar-and comfortable-inappropriateness.
"I already called Max and Alex," Tom continued and Ryan was thankful he hadn't heard him or was simply ignoring him. "We need to meet."
"Where and when?" the blond asked.
"The old spot, the old time." Tom hung up after that and Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. His hands shook but he couldn't tell if it was because of what he'd just been told or because the drug was spreading through his system.
He rubbed his eyes and collapsed onto his bed. He stared at his white, stuccoed ceiling as if it would have the answers he needed. What the hell? Who could possibly want to re-create the worst thing Brookland ever saw? Off the top of his head he thought of their football rivals at Royal West but he squashed that thought instantly. Tom had said that the room was supposedly a carbon copy of what it had been three years ago. Nobody knew exactly what that room had looked like; not even them and they had been shown plenty of crime scene photos during the investigation.
He groaned. If somebody was re-creating crime scenes they would be the first ones the cops badgered. Again. Not that they'd done anything. For once he was able to claim innocence of the latest hallway atrocity. Although, his particular atrocity was the schoolyard equivalent to a nuclear strike. He doubted this was anybody whose hands were truly clean. The only person it could have possibly been was the killer.
They'd never been caught. They weren't even sure if he was a 'he'. There were never any suspects. He wondered if that was about to change because if he knew one thing about murder cases it was this: they were solved when they had more attention. And this was about to be the talk of the neighborhood.
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The old shed used to be where the gardening and lawn tools were stored by the owners of the private park for the maintenance men. Those tools were still there but the lock had long been picked and spare keys had long disappeared. The park itself was technically only for the residents of the neighborhood and none of them lived in this part of town. Not even Ryan who had more money than any of them.
The park had fountains, cobblestone walkways, paved bikeways, lush gardens, and green lawns. It wasn't uncommon to find a family having a picnic in the spring and summer, nor was it uncommon to find a pair of grandparents just sitting on the bench and enjoying the end of a long life. It was beautiful in good weather and tragic in bad weather. Unlike in the public parks, the slides were graffiti free and the bushes weren't concealing drug buys and teenaged sex.
Ryan hated this place. Hated the manicured everything and the way the sun seemed to shine brighter here. The only real part of the park was the rundown, wooden garden shed they had stuck in the corner and forget about when the garden center was built three months after the park opened. The roof had a hole the size of Max and the sun would peek through the cracks in the boards to light the dust and dirt floating around; the door hung on one hinge and didn't like to close all the way.
They had found it five years ago, nearly ten years after it had been abandoned. Hidden by a grove of trees, the shed was private and quiet and away. It was theirs now. An imperfect relic in a perfect place. The poor shed reminded Ryan of the way things should be. It was ugly on the outside but inside it had been a place of fun and of escape and of memories that crept up on him during the quietest of moments and still made him smile.
Coming up on the shed, he saw he was the last to arrive, and dropped his bike next to the other three. He pulled open the door just enough for him to slip inside quickly. He shut it behind him and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust. Max was sitting on an old fold up chair they'd found in a car park. Alex was standing near the back between the rusted gardening shears and an old poster of Carmen Electra which was a remnant of Harris's 'playa' phase. Said boy had claimed what they used to call the King's Throne, which was nothing but a wheelbarrow with a nearly flat, plastic bean bag in it.
"Hey," Ryan said, somewhat uncomfortably. He hated being the last to arrive; it gave him shivers and made him feel more paranoid than normal. The other three acknowledged him with a 'Hi', 'Sup?', and a frosty stare. He was man enough to recognize he deserved the last.
"Ry, do you remember Jerry's friend James?" Tom asked and Ryan nodded. How could he forget James? He and Jerry used to be the coolest guys they had ever known. They used to idolize them. "Well, he joined the police force."
"You're kidding," Ryan replied with a small, half chuckle. He wouldn't have guessed that. As he remembered it the two older boys were more concerned with getting away with something, not preventing it.
"I know," Tom said with a smile that showed he too thought it was a crazy turn of events. "Anyway, he called me to fill me in on what happened last night."
"And what did happen?" Alex asked, sounding stiff. Ryan eyed him noticing that he was completely rigid. The boy wondered when the perpetually missing kid had gotten such good posture.
"Like I told you guys when I called," Tom said, absently scratching his nose, "somebody re-created the scene."
"Why?" Max squeaked from the chair looking like he was about to be sick. Ryan resisted his urge to roll his eyes. How could someone built like a grizzly bear be so easily scared? It almost hurt to see the kid like this.
"I don't know," Tom replied and then looked over to Alex.
"Probably a sick joke," the other boy said, still just as stiff.
"Did something crawl up your butt and die?" Ryan snapped suddenly, and all three turned to look at him in shock. Sure he had been nasty to Alex for the past year but nobody seemed to think he'd actually continue with his smear campaign now, of all times. It seemed awfully petty and perhaps it was but he just couldn't seem to help it.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Alex replied, not showing even a hint of anger or frustration. His utter lack of emotion made Ryan ball his fists. He hated it when Alex did his whole robot routine.
"You're standing like you have something jammed up your arse," Ryan seethed, eyes narrowing. Max looked completely surprised but Tom just raised his eyebrow and squared his shoulders, preparing to get up. It was a silent and subtle support of Alex and Ryan didn't appreciate it.
"So now you have a problem with the way I stand?" Alex asked, his tone not quite mocking but close enough. "Is there a particular position that wouldn't make you act bipolar?"
Ryan didn't have anything to say to that. He couldn't without making himself look ridiculous. So he just crossed his arms and shook his head, avoiding contact with everyone. He looked completely crazy, he knew it, but he couldn't help it. Alex just made him so angry.
"Anyway," Tom continued, "the cops might show up to talk to us again."
"But we don't know anything," Max said and Ryan, again resisted an eye roll. They were lucky none of them knew anything; Max would have squealed faster than a paid snitch.
"I know," Tom said quietly, before lapsing into thoughtful silence. "Just...be careful."
"Brilliant plan," Ryan mumbled.
"You have a better one?" Alex snapped, causing the second surprised shock in the last ten minutes. Again, Ryan shook his head and looked away.
"What are we going to do about the notes we got?" Max asked, chewing on his right thumbnail. "What if we get more?"
"Shred it," Ryan said. "It's just some joker, probably the same one."
"And what if it's the killer?" Tom asked. "We should tell someone."
"Like who?" Ryan asked. "Did anyone even keep their note?" Nobody answered. "That's what I thought. We can't go to anyone about anything without proof. Besides, how exactly are you planning to explain what they meant? We made a promise, remember?"
"Yes, Ryan," Alex said, back to his blank tone. "We remember just as well as you do."
"Fine," Tom said, shaking his head. "We'll just wait and see."
"Fine," Ryan replied, and then turned and left. He grabbed his bike from where he'd dumped it on the ground, mounted it, and rode out of the park to his home as quickly as he could. When he got there, he left his bike behind the front bushes and went to his room, ignoring his mother and sisters in the living room. Collapsing on his bed, he felt his Sidekick start to vibrate in his back pocket.
He ignored it. It wasn't important. Not today.
Bing. Bing.
"Ugh," he groaned and slapped the mattress as he sat up. His new e-mail alert was sounding, and while he could ignore his mobile for a few minutes, he didn't want to ignore his e-mail. Those other three didn't have his e-mail address anymore so it wasn't likely to be them. In fact, he was pretty sure Alex didn't even have a Facebook page. He should convince Tom to make one for him. He couldn't harass him if he couldn't find him.
Sitting at his desk he touched the mouse pad of his Macbook Air, revealing his g-mail account, and the new e-mail. It was from someone name Red. Eyebrows crinkling, he opened it and gasped as he read it.
Do the others know what you're hiding? I do. Do as I say and I won't tell.
He stared at the screen not quite believing that this was actually happening. He couldn't believe he was going through this. It was clearly the same person who had left the note in his locker. Squaring his shoulders he clicked 'Reply' and started typing.
What do you want?
He hesitated to send it. What was he getting into? He knew that he was probably talking with the killer at this point but he was backed into a corner. He licked his lips and pressed send before he could start acting like Max and hide under his bed at the slightest of sounds.
He waited for only a few minutes before his e-mail alert sounded again and he refreshed the page to see the new message. Opening it up, he read it and felt his heart speed up.
"Son of a-"
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"Where were you?" Jack shouted when she heard Alex shut the front door.
"At the park," he told her as he toed off his shoes and walked towards the living room. He felt an inkling of concern at her teary tone. He wasn't too concerned though. Jack had a love of emotional chick flicks and was always the first person to cry. He walked into the room to see Marley & Me playing on their flat screen. It was at the point where the dog was really sick and Alex sighed softly as he sat next to Jack.
She immediately grabbed his hand with her right hand and wiped her eyes with her left. He eyed the empty ice cream carton on the coffee table and knew that she had broken up with the latest guy. She was wearing her patented 'momentarily depressed' outfit of a stained, white tank top and Alex's old, black sweat pants that had been cut into shorts. She had on a pair of brown house boots that were made to look like Uggs and her long red hair was up in a messy bun. She had on no makeup and her lime green, hooded pullover was draped across her lap as if it were a blanket.
"You okay Jack?" Alex asked halfheartedly, having gone through this routine a few times before. She would spend a day, maybe a day and a half at most, like this and then she'd go buy a new cookbook and cook every recipe inside for a week straight. Not that they could ever hope to eat all of that food. Most of it would end up at the homeless shelter in downtown London. Alex was starting to think that they loved it when Jack went through a breakup.
"I'll be fine," she sniffled, hazelnut eyes never leaving the screen. "I'm thinking of putting in some streaks. What do you think?"
"What color?" Alex indulged, knowing he'd never get away unless he walked her through the whole process.
"Blond," she said. "Just a few. They say it's the new flirty look."
"Hmm," he acknowledged.
"I need more girlfriends," Jack mumbled as the movie ended. She squeezed his hand before getting up to clear off her mess.
"Or a gay guy," Alex replied with a small smirk. Jack paused.
"Which reminds me. I need to call Zach," she said and Alex chuckled. He got up himself and went up to his room, knowing his work was done for the moment. He smiled more fully as he went up the stairs. There was nobody like Jack. When he got to his room, he shut the door tightly and ditched the jean jacket she had bought for him at her family reunion in Texas, laying it on the back of his desk chair. Sitting down at the desk he moved his mouse to wake the old Dell back up. A picture of an F16 popped up on the desktop and he opened up Internet Explorer.
As he was waiting for the old computer to load the internet he heard his mobile start buzzing in his jacket and he twisted around to pick it out of the pocket. The pay-as-you-go Samsung had long been a source of jokes for both Tom and Ryan. He knew it was a pretty crappy mobile but he also knew that he had a tendency to lose and/or annihilate his different devices. He was loath to pay a lot of money for something that was likely to be destroyed during a mission.
He looked at the screen and opened the new text message from Tom.
SOS. Bobbies in the house.
He was nearly out of his chair when he heard his Yahoo! e-mail alert sound. He sat back down and opened it real quick. Not many people had this address and the alert only sounded when it was an urgent message.
The message's 'From' line said it was from someone named Red. He didn't know who that could possibly be, but he pushed it out of his mind for a moment. There was no message, just a video attachment and Alex quickly downloaded it to his movie viewer. When it finished loading he pressed play and watched closely.
The frame was extremely dark but he could tell that it was the second floor hallway of Brookland's south wing. Whoever was holding the camera walked down the darkened corridor and to the boy's bathroom. He saw a black gloved hand reach out and push the door open. Alex gasped and hit pause, trying to catch his breath. It was the bathroom from last night. He saw the black haired mannequin positioned with its head in the sink, its hands resting on the side. Alex knew that if it had been a real person, they would have been gripping the sides as they fought.
The boy pressed play again and watched as the mannequin came closer. Suddenly the camera turned and he could see the mirror fully. Written in blood red letters were the words, His pride killed him. What the hell did that mean? The camera continued to get closer and he saw the light reflected back in the mirror. Also there was the vague outline of a person. He couldn't tell if it was a male or female. He could only barely make out the black hoodie and what looked like a very pale face. That was where the movie ended.
Alex leaned back in his chair trying to take it all in. Why would anyone send him this? Why would they even want to make a video like this or pull whatever sick prank that was supposed to be? If it was the killer-like his instincts were screaming that it was-why would they want to call attention to it after three years? They had gotten off scott-free and now they were trying to call attention to the way the scene had supposedly been. He wasn't sure if this was an exact recreation but from what he knew it was close enough.
"Alex!" Jack suddenly shouted up the stairs. He jumped up and dove for his night table where he snatched up the blue flash drive and quickly plugged it into his computer's hard drive.
"Alex! You need to come down!" Jack shouted up again as he fumbled with getting the file off of his desktop and onto the flash drive.
"I'll be there in a second!" he shouted back knowing he would sound off to her but also knowing she wouldn't come up. It seemed to take forever to download the file to the drive but when it finally went through, he deleted the file from the computer and his e-mail. Removing the drive from his computer he moved to the back of his open closet and peeled back the wallpaper to reveal a small hole in the wall. Feeling around inside his hand hit an Altoids tin and he slid the drive inside, shut the tin, and placed everything back the way it was supposed to be.
"Alex!"
"Coming!" he shouted back and darted out of his room as if it was on fire. He bounded down the stairs but came to a complete halt when he saw why he'd been called back down.
Police.
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"I hate you!"
Tom ignored the sudden shout and put in his ear buds to drown out the latest fight. The police had come and gone already. It hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be but then they really didn't have many reasons to hassle him for too long. They asked some basic questions, practically the same ones as three years ago and Tom had given pretty much the same answers.
Now he was in his room, trying to ignore his parents and focus on his history paper. He turned up Wiz Khalifa's No Sleep and drowned out the sounds of screaming and cuss words. He wondered if he should fire off a text to let everyone know the cops were gone. He didn't expect Ryan to show up anytime soon but Max would worry himself sick and Alex was likely already on the way over. Not that he couldn't use Alex's company right then. He was the only one who really knew what was happening with his parents and how bad the fighting sometimes got.
He heard the sound of a dish breaking as the song changed to Bon Jovi's Livin' On a Prayer, which thankfully played louder than the previous song and he grabbed his iPhone and turned the volume as loud as it could go.
No longer able to concentrate on homework-not that it took much to break his concentration-Tom saved his essay and opened up his internet. Logging into his e-mail account he found a new e-mail from some guy named Red. He opened it, curious, and found a link but nothing else. He clicked on the link and found himself at the Kensington and Chelsea Chronicle website. More specifically the article detailing the rate and causes of teenage suicides.
Tom gulped and pulled the ear buds out, no longer concerned with drowning out screaming parents. There may not have been any specific details that would make anyone think of Tom, but he knew what it was. Someone was trying to send him a very specific message about her. He closed the window and then closed his laptop, feeling tears well up. He hadn't cried in years and he wasn't about to start now either.
This was probably from the same person who had left him the note in the locker room and he was done with it already. Whoever this was they were nasty and they knew too much. Nobody had dared to blame him for her suicide so why would they start now? The teen jumped up from his desk, grabbed his football and left for the team's field behind the school.
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Max didn't get back to his small flat until late that night. He had spent the day in the shed after the others had left. He had sat in that plastic chair until the sun had disappeared and no light peeked through the boards any longer. He just didn't have the energy to move and he no longer had the willpower to hold it all in. But he had made a promise to them and he wasn't one to go back on his promises either.
Clutching at the rosary that was usually kept under his shirt, Max prayed that nothing worse would happen. He stayed in that shed until it got cold and he was shivering violently. He remembered when they would spend all day in this park playing football and rugby, talking about girls and placing bets on who would win the world cup that next summer. This shed used to shake with laughter and in the corner where the floor had rotted out, they would hide stolen beer and cigarettes in a small hole.
Marlboro was their brand. Not that Alex or Ryan had ever had one. It was probably the only thing they ever had in common.
But there was an ugly side to this shed and he knew it. It had been a long time since any of them had set foot in this place but it felt as familiar as it ever had been. He knew every board, every crooked nail, every small hole, and every tool. He knew the way it smelled after a rainstorm and how the leaves would pile up against the door in the fall. This had been their place; he could still hear their laughter at some bad joke but he could also hear the whisper of something else. A snide comment. A secret whisper. The buzz of a vibrating mobile signaling a text message none of them were ever going to read.
He had ruled over them like he was a king. In fact the wheelbarrow had always been his spot. Looking back at it they should have realized what it meant. Max knew there was always something beneath the surface of their friendship, something secretive and apparently something dangerous. They were being blackmailed and he was almost certain they were being watched. And now, apparently, the killer was back. But why?
BANG!
Max jumped nearly as hard as his heart did. He swiveled towards the door of the shed and stood quickly. It wasn't uncommon for a stray ball to come soaring through the trees and smack into the shed. But that hadn't sounded like some football or such. It had sounded like a rock. He had heard that particular sound before as well.
He slowly got up and opened the ill-hanging door. He found the rock not far from the door but he didn't bother picking it up. He peered into the darkened trees looking for any movement but he didn't expect to see anything.
"Hello?" he called out softly. He didn't expect an answer, not really.
Crunch. Crunch.
Max whirled around at the sound of footsteps to his left. Somebody was there, he knew it. Leaves were crunching and twigs were snapping.
"Hello!" he called out, this time much louder. "Is anybody there?"
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The footsteps were louder and closer now. Max was just about to turn tail and run when suddenly he was blinded by a bright light, most likely from a torch. He threw his hands up to block his face and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Hey! Kid!" said a gruff voice. The light was lowered from his face and Max opened his eyes again. It took a moment for them to readjust but when they did he saw a large, heavy set man in a security outfit. He was holding a torch and scowling at him. "Are you a resident?"
"No," Max replied honestly. "I was visiting a friend. He lives in the complex."
"And where is he?" the man asked, nastily. Max resisted the urge to scowl and roll his eyes. This guy took his job way too seriously.
"He went home, sir," Max said as politely as he could. The last thing he needed was a trespassing citation.
"Then you best be on your way son," the guy continued and Max nodded quickly, grabbing his bike and peeling out of the park before the man could change his mind. He didn't even notice the red piece of parchment taped to his handlebars until he was three blocks away. He pressed the brakes and the tires squealed as he slid to a stop on the sidewalk.
He ripped the paper off of the connector bar and hopped off his bike, not caring that it fell with a hard thud to the ground.
He flipped the folded paper open so quickly that it nearly ripped in two. The typeface was the same and so was the paper. Identical. It was from the same person.
Cadogen Street. London SW3 2QR. A place to confess.
Max paused. What was that supposed to mean?
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Alex avoided Jack's eye for the rest of the night. He knew she was concerned and when she was overly concerned she made biscuits. It was this, if nothing else, that let Alex know she was very, very worried. She had already made six dozen. He was starting to worry about her but he couldn't figure out what to say to make her worry less without sounding like he was hiding something.
Avoiding her eye he managed to slip back upstairs and went to his room. He logged back onto his computer and went back to his e-mail account. Maybe he was hoping for a message and maybe he was hoping not to have a message, he wasn't sure. He wanted to know what was going on and he knew he would need more than a little movie to figure it all out.
Bzz. Bzz.
Grabbing his mobile from where he'd left it on the desk he opened the new message from Tom.
We need to talk. Call me. Emergency.
Alex instantly dialed the other boy's number more than a little worried. Tom rarely called a situation an emergency. In fact, Tom was the type of person who would look at an emergency and not recognize it for what it was. It only took half a ring before the shorter boy picked up.
"Hey," Tom said sounding uncertain and weary.
"What's going on?" Alex asked.
"Alex," Tom hedged and the blond stood up to pace. This conversation had already turned into a pacing type of moment.
"What happened?" he asked, determined to find out was wrong now.
"Ryan did something," Tom finally said after a sigh. Alex had a bad feeling about this. Ryan had been on his case for over a year and Alex could understand it to an extent. He and Ryan had a history with each other and not all of it was good. But Alex had always been able to handle whatever the other boy could throw at him. After all he'd been through he welcomed the normalcy of a schoolyard rivalry. However, nothing Ryan had done so far had managed to make Tom nervous. His warning bells went off.
"What did he do?" Alex asked.
"He's e-mailed something to the entire school," Tom replied.
"What did he e-mail?"
"It's a video Alex," Tom replied. "And it isn't good."
"What do you mean? What video is it?" Alex suddenly felt nervous. He had no clue what kind of video Ryan may or may not have. Either way it didn't look good.
"Did you blow up the Science Building?" Tom asked suddenly and Alex's knees nearly went out. Oh no. He sat down on his bed quickly, feeling ill. This wasn't good.
"What?" was all he could say in reply.
"Alex, Ryan sent everyone a video of you blowing up the Science Building," Tom replied. "That isn't good dude."
"Send it to me," Alex ordered, wanting to see it for himself.
"I already did," Tom replied and Alex quickly went to his computer and refreshed his internet. The new e-mail instantly popped up and Alex opened it quickly. He saw that was an amateur shot from the ground. The camera was tilted upwards and Alex was clearly visible on the roof of the school. He could barely see the clone in the background and thankfully the face was indistinguishable. The video went through the entire, horrible scene. The fight, the explosion, and the clone falling through the hole in the roof to his death. This was horrible. He looked like a murderer. He looked like a terrorist.
How the hell did Ryan get his hands on this video? And more importantly, why would he send it out to everyone? Alex wasn't stupid. He knew that Ryan had nearly every Year Ten e-mail address and it wouldn't be long before the video made its rounds through the student body and to the teachers and police. MI6 would be pissed.
Alex felt his throat tighten at how stupid Ryan was and he shook his head. Not only would he probably be kicked out of school but they would be lucky to keep this out of the press. Ryan was about to be in some serious trouble with Blunt and his people; Alex knew it and it terrified him more than his potential prison time. How the hell was he going to protect this kid? And more importantly, would he even try?
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"Oh my god!"
Max couldn't help but voice his reaction to the video. Alex. The teen could barely process what he was seeing. How could Alex of all people not only blow up a building but kill someone? And how had Ryan known about it? Why would he send it out to everyone? Didn't he know that something like this would make the police think that Alex was the killer?
Max grabbed his mobile and quickly dialed Tom's number.
"Did you see it?" was the boy's answer.
"Yeah," Max said. "What is going on? Is this real?"
"I think so," Tom replied. "I talked to Alex but he didn't really give me anything. I think it was self defense though."
"How do you know?" Max asked, uncertain. He hated to think that Alex could be capable of cold-hearted murder but this video was awfully damaging. What was he supposed to think?
"Because I know," Tom said vaguely and Max had a feeling that he wasn't about to get any sort of honest answer. "Max, we're in some serious trouble."
"What do you mean?"
"Ryan didn't shoot that video," Tom told him. "Someone else did."
"Do you think it was the same person?" Max asked, concerned.
"Yeah," he replied. "I think we're being stalked."
Max didn't answer. It was too scary a thought.
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SUNDAY
Alex didn't sleep well that night. He was considering his options and none of them seemed good. But when had they ever? The way he saw it, he had three courses of action that he could take. He could leave Brookland on his own; he could wait to get kicked out; or he could be a little more proactive and bargain with Blunt in the hopes that he could make the entire incident disappear. None of these options seemed like they would pan out very well.
Not only that but he still had to figure out what to do with Ryan. No matter what he did MI6 would be all over the other boy the instant they found out about the video and that wouldn't take long. Alex was stuck. He needed MI6 to keep the video out of the press and MI6 needed him to keep Ryan quiet. Unfortunately for his estranged friend, Ryan could very well be charged for leaking confidential government files. To high school students, no less.
And then there was the entire matter of where the video had come from in the first place. This wouldn't be the first time some nosey person had gotten too close to Alex's secret and it probably wouldn't be the last either. But this time seemed infinitely worse. His two pasts were crashing together and he felt powerless to stop it. As much as he hated to admit it, he would eventually have to talk to Blunt.
Crap.
Alex finally gave up on sleep at around six in the morning knowing he had a lot of homework to do. Also laying around in bed wasn't going to solve his latest Ryan related problem. The other boy had long been a source of stress for Alex, even before the murder. The two had been very close friends but they had a tendency to rub each other wrong way. Ryan was a bully; there was no denying that. And there was also no denying what Alex thought of bullies. After all, he had once beaten up several of them for picking on Tom.
So the two seemed like natural enemies. Alex hated the ugly side of Ryan and Ryan couldn't understand the moral code Alex lived by. It was really no surprise that the two of them had difficulties getting along. But their conflict had never been this bad before. Alex knew there was no way Ryan could fully understand what he had just done but that didn't really matter. He had done it, and that was the crux of the whole problem. He had deliberately tried to destroy Alex for no reason Alex could readily come up with. It was betrayal and he wasn't about to put up with it. He would have to confront Ryan eventually. That much he knew for certain.
MONDAY
Ryan avoided his old friends as best he could. He had spotted Alex momentarily but had successfully managed to duck down a flight of stairs before the other boy could get too close. He knew he looked a coward and he felt like it too but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it. People were smiling at him and nodding at him in hallways as he passed. Not that they didn't do that every day but there was a special meaning behind it today.
They had all seen the video he had sent out in a school wide e-mail. Administration hadn't seemed to catch on yet but Ryan knew it was only a matter of time. Some little do-gooder would send it to the Headmaster as a heads up and both he and Alex would be dragged down to the office. He would have to explain how he'd gotten his hands on the video and why he was only now stepping forward with it. Alex would probably be arrested.
He felt bad. Legitimately. He and Alex had been best friends for five years and now he was purposefully trying to send him to prison for seemingly no reason. But there was always a reason and Ryan couldn't just tell people what his was. There was just no way. He wasn't brave enough and he knew it.
Safely making it to his locker before English, Ryan seriously contemplated faking ill and getting out of the rest of this nerve wracking day. He'd never felt so jumpy before in his life. He managed to get the right combination on his third try and swung the locker door open. He then promptly cursed under his breath. Another piece of folded parchment paper was sitting on top of his books and he snatched it up.
Opening it he found it was still written in that same font. That annoyed him for some reason.
Good job. But you're not done.
Ryan hated the way that was worded but, again, what could he do? He had secrets to keep just like the rest of them and he wasn't about to blow it for a couple of guys he hadn't talked to in three years. He wasn't a sentimental person and it wasn't like Alex was so innocent. The kid had blown up a building and managed to kill someone in the process. And he'd gotten away with it. Maybe that was why he was suddenly so nervous. When Alex had just been loser-Alex, Ryan didn't think twice-or even once-about saying something rude or nasty. But if Alex was actually capable of doing what the video claimed he did then Ryan was now playing a completely different game.
Alex had a reason-a legitimate-reason to come after him.
The sound of the bell cut through Ryan's morose thoughts like a knife, making him jump. He crumpled the new note and shoved it into his jeans pocket. He slammed the locker door shut, found whatever courage he had left, and walked to English as if he hadn't done what he'd done. When he got there Tom glared at him and Max looked at him warily. But Alex was nowhere to be seen.
"Looks like you ran Rider out of school," Jon whispered as he sat down in his normal seat. Ryan only grunted in reply. He and Jon hung out often; they ran in the same circle. But Ryan wouldn't go so far as to say they were friends. Jon was really more of his lackey. "Nice job, mate."
"Thanks," he replied softly, not wanting to be congratulated but knowing he had to at least appear to accept it. He looked over to Sara and she smiled at him. She wouldn't say anything about it though. He knew she didn't really care about Alex's existence one way or another and she wasn't about to get in the middle of anything.
He made it through English, Chemistry, and Algebra. And then thankfully, it was lunch time and he could just sit and not think about anything more disturbing than Jon's latest stunt. He'd been pushing some poor loser around for nearly two weeks now and the kid had finally given in and done Jon's homework for him. It was a clichéd move in Ryan's opinion but Jon wasn't one for originality.
When the next class bell rang he felt as if he just might make it through this blasted day. But when he got to gym he found a stranger talking to the Coach and he suddenly felt ill. The man was a police officer, there was no doubt about that. Even though he was dressed in normal street clothes his badge was hanging around his neck and Ryan could see his holstered weapon under his jacket from clear across the gymnasium. The weapon meant that whatever he was working on was a serious matter. The police didn't hand out guns to just anyone for any old reason.
He pushed on through the small crowd of kids who had all stopped to stare, hoping the man's presence had nothing to do with him. He wasn't that lucky.
"Coswell," the coach called out as soon as he spotted the boy. "Get over here."
Ryan momentarily froze, not wanting to go over but he managed it.
"Hello Ryan," the stranger greeted. "I'm Detective Inspector Rosten with Scotland Yard. I need you to come with me."
"Why?" Ryan asked.
"I think you know why." Ryan nodded and allowed the man to lead him out of the gymnasium and down to the main office. However, instead of going into the Headmaster's office or into one of the counselor's offices, he was led into the main conference room. When he got there the first person he saw was Alex, looking tight lipped and tense. Sitting next to him was another man Ryan didn't know in a nice, but nondescript, suit. He didn't look too happy either.
"Sit down, Mr. Coswell," he said stiffly and Ryan sat next to Alex. The entire table was empty but despite avoiding the other boy for the entire day he felt better sitting closer to him than further away. It was an odd feeling but it was how it was. Alex radiated toughness and Ryan was hoping to soak some of it up.
"Coswell, I'm going to cut straight to the point," the man in the suit said. "I am Agent Daniels and you have managed to put all of us in a very interesting position." Ryan just stared at him, knowing the man wasn't finished talking. "That video you sent out was not meant to be for public viewing."
Well, duh, Ryan thought. It was a murder caught on tape. Of course it wasn't supposed to be public. But why would these guys care about what he had done? If anything this Detective Inspector should be thanking him. After all, he had just released a pretty good piece of evidence.
Ryan's thoughts were interrupted when a thick stack of papers was dropped onto the table in front of him. He jumped and stared at them. Then he felt bile rise into his throat as he saw the title of those documents.
Official Secrets Act.
"What have you dragged me into?" Ryan whispered to Alex, unable to speak any louder through his sudden shock and extreme fear.
"I didn't drag you into anything," Alex replied, sounding angrier than Ryan had ever heard him. It was suddenly very clear that Ryan had done more than betray Alex's trust by sending out that e-mail.
The Official Secrets Act was no joke, he knew that.
"You weren't really in rehab were you?" Ryan asked quietly, pieces suddenly falling into place. Alex hadn't been sick, hadn't been grieving, or any of those other things all the rumors had said he'd been doing. Alex had been doing something else and while Ryan didn't know what it was he was suddenly right in the middle of it. Did Red know? Was that the point of this all along? To expose Alex?
"No, Ryan," Alex replied not nearly as quietly as the other boy. "Sign the papers." Alex handed him a pen. "Now." The lighter blond took the pen but hesitated over the signature line.
"What happens if I don't?" he asked and looked at the two strangers.
"You'll be in prison by the end of the day," the Detective Inspector said. "By signing these papers you will agree to never again release any videos, photographs, documents, or any other sort of media into the public domain. You will not talk about Alex Rider to any sort of media outlet, you will not discuss the video you sent out, and will not discuss this meeting or the document with anyone, including your parents."
Ryan gulped. Holy crap, what had he stepped into?
"Ryan, you need to sign the papers," Alex said sounding as if he was coaxing the other boy. Ryan gazed at him and then shook his head but he put pen to paper and signed his name.
The man in the suit quickly took them and put them back into his briefcase.
"Where did you get that video?" he asked as he snapped the clasps shut.
"It was sent to me," Ryan replied, unwilling to lie to whoever this was. He wasn't with the police, that much was clear. If it had just been the Detective Inspector he might have held back but this other man was someone he didn't want to mess with.
"Who sent it to you?" the suit continued. Ryan hesitated. That was something he didn't want to talk about, not even under whatever threat this man held. He glanced at Alex, who rescued him.
"We aren't sure who has been trying to contact us," the other boy said and Ryan couldn't help but notice how professional he sounded. It was rather disturbing. "You know that."
"Hmm," the suit replied. "Well, then I'm finished here. Alex, we'll be in touch." With that, the suit left.
"Can I go?" Ryan finally managed after what seemed to be a extremely long, tense silence.
"Yes," the Detective Inspector told him and Ryan was out of his chair and halfway down the hall before he even considered asking any sort of questions about what exactly he was being forced to keep secret. The entire ordeal hadn't lasted more than five minutes but Ryan knew it would be a five minutes he would never forget.
"I think you scared him," Alex said, looking the Detective Inspector dead in the eye. The man didn't seem as if he was done with him yet and in all honesty Alex wasn't done with him either.
"He should be scared," Rosten replied. "He did, after all, just stumble onto one of Britain's best kept secrets and released it to the entire student body."
"He didn't know what he was doing," Alex replied, inclined to defend his old friend even if he did still want to kill him. "It's not his fault that this guy sent him the video."
"Why would he even release it?" the man asked. "Aren't you two friends?"
"Not really," Alex said truthfully. "Not that it's any of your business." The Detective Inspector nodded at that but didn't seem inclined to really let it go.
"You know Cub," the man said. "When they said that I would be the one to handle all high security cases in London I didn't quite expect this."
"What did you expect Eagle?" the teen asked, curious. "It's not like anything our companies are involved in are normal." The ex-soldier nodded his head in agreement and then dropped the subject.
"So Cub, how is the civilian life treating you?" he asked. Alex was a little thrown at the seemingly random question but answered anyway.
"It's good," he said completely truthfully. "Can I ask why you're not with the SAS anymore?" He couldn't help but be curious as to how Eagle-one of the better soldiers in K-Unit in his own opinion-had ended up being a cop.
"Injury," the man replied. "I've got a piece of shrapnel buried in my leg that makes me unfit for duty."
"Oh," Alex said, sympathetically. He knew that for the men in his training unit their jobs were a way of life and not the punishment he'd felt it was. "I'm sorry." The man shrugged, uninterested.
"It's fine," the man replied. "I joined the force as soon as I could which was only three weeks ago, by the way. MI6 asked me to field all calls concerning their agents. You'd be surprised how often they end up in jail." Alex could believe that remembering when he'd been thrown into jail for dropping a drug dealer's boat into the brand new police headquarters. "I read about the Skoda incident by the way." Alex blushed.
"Oh."
"Yeah," Eagle said. "Listen up Cub. I don't want to get another call about you."
"You think I want you get another call about me?" Alex asked, somewhat offended.
"No, I don't," the soldier replied. "But I'm letting you know now, I don't want any more calls about you and your little friends leaking government secrets. Understand?"
"I understand," Alex replied stiffly, the friendliness they'd had just moments before now completely gone.
"Go to class," Eagle ordered and Alex did just that.
