Hey everyone! I finally learned how to work this thing. Hurray for me. Anyway, this is chapter 1 really since the last chapter was a prologue of sorts. Hope you like it and please review!
And THANK YOU SO MUCH to my reviewer. I appreciated it so much and it made me hurry to comply.
Disclaimer: Alex Rider is one of the best characters to be invented….but it wasn't me.
Chapter 1
Two years later- London
The rain pattered softly on the windows, the school day seeming to last an eternity. Daydreaming was her only escape. Though most viewed her 'adventures' as folly, her missions with James Bond and escapades with Jackie Chan let her have the life that she wanted; one of adventure. Mystery, murder, and intrigue; the main elements of-
"Miss Trawson. Miss Trawson!"
She was abruptly pulled back to reality by the grim Mrs. Darford. English was so boring and the dreary room in which she taught cried out for some redecoration. The nasal quality of her voice and ample waist completed the average teacher cliché.
"Graylei Trawson, what character from 'Julius Caesar' said 'Release the hounds of war?'" Her dark eyebrows looked expectantly at Graylei, or Gray to most people. Not that she stayed in one place long enough for anyone to know.
"Antony," Gray said despondently, having read the Shakespearian play three times and knowing the acts by heart. Being an orphan did have its perks but the bad generally outweighed any good that could come out of her lifestyle.
"Very good. Now please pay attention and stop daydreaming." Her teacher started lecturing again, Gray returning to her favorite place; her imagination. There, she was a famous singer, a millionaire with attendants for her every whim, but most of all, a spy. She had successfully completed impossible missions at James Bond's side, always picturing Sean Connery, her favorite of the spy's actors. There she could be the best; she could be worth something.
Being a spy would be completely and irrevocably amazing. Or so she believed anyway.
School ended with no more excitement or slip-ups. She just wanted to survive this year, if her foster parents kept her that long. Her current caregivers were out of town, forcing Gray to utilize the bike she had received two homes back and look after herself. Wouldn't be the first time, she thought sullenly.
Gray shook her head to dispel the unhappy memories and gathered up the red contraption.
She began the long ride home solemnly, the thick air foretelling of the storm to come. It was a long ride, at least an hour, the winding London streets making any quick routes impossible. But Gray didn't mind the commute, the mindless movement soothing to her troubled thoughts. That she was on her own didn't trouble her anymore; the chance of being sent away within six months meaning little also. The change was normal, foster parents getting tired of her imaginative stories.
Peddling languidly, she chose to go through town, her usual roundabout track longer. Downtown was under heavy construction, many of the roads being repaved and painted, but Gray didn't think it would be a problem.
The town hosted various gas stations and grocery stores, large tour buses and yellow taxis endlessly moving. London's population accounted for the numerous schools in the area, primary and secondary schools ere the majority and also a few universities. London was bigger than most I had lived in and I was grateful. A town where everyone knew each other didn't take kindly to newcomers.
Passing by street venders and the occasional tree, Gray retreated into her world, leaving Europe and everyone in it behind.
She felt the bike jerk downward an instant before she was thrown from it. A huge machine with bright yellow paint and the logo 'Construction 'R Us' in bold font loomed in front of her, the open contraption waiting patiently for activation. Her descent was almost immediate, and when she landed, her arm punched one of the many levers. She came to rest with her stomach on the top of the controllers' seat not having had the momentum to fly completely over.
Workers shouted their outrage as a man in a pristine, yet dull grey suit walking past unsmiling. Paying the man no heed, Gray turned back the machine. With a sick feeling, she looked to the front of it where a large arm was attached like a fishing pole, the entire limb appearing in the shape of a hangman's gallows. There was even rope on the end wrapped around plywood three thick.
The lever happened to control the extending and retracting the rope, the machine humming with activity. The pile of plywood began to rise swiftly, effectively shutting the man in grey from view. Struggling to control the burden, lights flashed as the wrong buttons and levers were disturbed. Finally, with a whine, the machine stopped moving. But the excitement was not over.
Gray saw the glint of something from the corner of her eye as a report sounded. The bullet buried itself in the wood, meant for the man in the grey suit. If the pile had continued to rise as the perpetrator must have thought, it would have been out of the way for the shot.
Shock overcame her senses as she tried in vain to see if the man was alright. She found him across the street in the process of entering the back seat of an unmarked car. He turned to study her, his eyes steady, looking completely unfazed by this surprising turn of events. Gray started to shake, her body weak, wanting desperately to get off the beast below her. The men were still shouting and had reached her, strong hands lifting her easily down.
Gray glanced at the angry countenances around her, wondering if they even heard the shot. Once again searching for the man, their gazes locked once more and he nodded to her and got in. Incredulous, Gray allowed the construction workers to lecture her. Why were they so calm? Someone had just tried to kill that man!
Taking inventory of her injuries, a few bruised ribs and a headache were her only complaints and she just wanted to go home. Retrieving her red bike, she pulled it from the open manhole the front wheel had found and started on her way lost in thought. The wheel was slightly bent and Gray had to walk it in a constant sideways motion.
Who was the man? Who was trying to kill him and why? Why did he not see disturbed at being shot at? The thought that this was like one of her spy episodes sent excitement and fear through her. This type of occurrence with guns blazing and men taking cover wasn't supposed to be scary. Maybe adventures aren't as fun as they sounded, she thought, disturbed.
Shaking her head, Gray decided to find out who the man was. Call it curiosity or stupidity, but answers needed to be found. Painting a picture of him in her mind, she saw a grey person. His hair was a dull grey color, sharp insightful grey eyes that had seen too much of the world, and a drab but clean grey suit. His skin even had a grey tint to it. She was surprised that his car wasn't grey. He looked to be about mid-forties, his tall, robust structure speaking of possible army connections. There were only a few stores in the city that carried that style and color of suit. His shoes had shone with luster so Gray figured he worked in an office all day.
She tottered slightly, her bike's bent front wheel taking a few moments to steady. Did she really want to do this?
Yes, she would do it. She had to.
Finding a phone book at a nearby payphone, Gray quickly went through some of the stores she knew might carry apparel of that shade and style. After writing down the addresses of the possible shops, she went to work going to the store and looking around to see if anything matched what she had seen. Many of the customers shared confused looks as a young girl of obviously little wealth walked into some of the most expensive clothing departments in the city.
After ten flukes, Gray had two more to go. After taking a deep breath, she forced herself onward, the hour getting close to six o'clock. Finally arriving at the store, Gray hesitated. The double front doors were purely made of glass; white frosted letters spelling Fordeaux (For-dough) could be seen in precise block lettering.
With a deep breath, Gray walked inside. The smell of high class perfume hit her nose immediately and she wondered if they ever made any money based on the city's high number of middle class citizens.
Gazing around, she observed myriad styles and cuts of suits, tuxes, and elegant neck ties. The price tags themselves were enough to make her jaw drop, not to mention the rich fabrics she could scarcely touch.
One suit caught her eye. It was black and simple in design on the back wall. The make was expensive yet not as extravagant as the models closer to the entrance. It was definitely the same suit. Gray knew the chances that this idea would even work out was farfetched and something even her spy self wouldn't attempt, but it was the only thing she had. She highly doubted she could find him in the phone book under 'the man in a grey suit.'
A short man with an expensive pressed shirt of faded blue and green stripes greeted her as he walked up. His face showed no warmth, though, at the sight of her attire bought from the local hand-me-down store.
"How may I help you? Do you need directions to the nearest charity center?" His snood tone as he took in her clothes made Gray boil inside but she kept her cool and smiled sweetly. She had a plan.
"No thank you, sir. I was wondering if you had seen my dad, though. He is tall and robust and partial to grey. He bought a grey suit a while ago and I think it was from this store." She smiled again, trying to be convincing in her role and gage how much the man believed.
"Grey suit, you say? And tall? I'm sorry but there are many men who buy grey suits and here, now if you please?" He gestured to the door with one manicured hand.
"Please, sir, my mum is out of town and my dad just transferred to a new job. It's an emergency and all I know is that he buys his suits from this store. He is quiet and perceptive and drives a plain black car with a chauffeur." Gray looked pleadingly up at the man, seeing indecision cover his face.
"Quiet? Oh, very well, he has been a customer here, but why are you here?" He was looking at Gray suspiciously, his face telling of his disbelief of her story.
"Well, I was wondering if he left a business card. He transferred to a new job as I said before, and I need to reach him."
Suspicion still glinting in his dark eyes, the man went to the register and pulled a slender book from a shelf bellow. The book obviously held customer information, the little man putting on small spectacles as he flipped through, making him appear ore malevolent than before.
"Here." His accent was French, strong and barely understandable to Gray. "Here is his business card." He looked her over once more, but grudgingly handed it over, watching as Gray memorized the address. She handed the card back and not knowing any French words besides 'oiu,' she said, "Gracious."
"I'm French." His disdain covered his face but Gray was only momentarily stunned. Hoping 'oiu' was not offensive, she smiled innocently and said it loudly, giving a half wave as she made a beeline for the door. Once at her bike, she looked through the glass entrance and saw the man speaking on the phone. No doubt it was to the grey man, ruining her chances to find answers. Oh, well, she was going to find out who the man was. Today.
Chapter 1 is finished! Do you know who the man in grey is? Lol. It is extremely obvious but that was the point I guess. Alex will be in the next chapter so hold on. This was more of a background type thingy, setting up the story. Hope you liked it and REVIEW!
