Alex watched the news on the badly tuned satellite receiver in a seedy Ukrainian hotel. His kidnapping was the top story on BBC World, CNN and Sky. The TV showed him holding the paper looking battered and bruised, and very, very young. The moment for him jumping back, showed absolute fear etched on his face. Alex then went and looked in the mirror. Alex's blond hair and eyebrows were now dark brown. His face and hands masked in fake tan, he looked like an arab with a dark middle eastern completion.
Yassen was asleep on the bed. Alex now knew that John Rider had trained Yassen and had been an assassin for Scorpia. Yassen was going to continue his training.
Alex Rider was a hostage somewhere in the middle east. The total stranger in the mirror was about to learn how to be an international assassin, just like his father.
Six weeks later, Yassen had told Alex of a planned assassination in Bogota. Alex had his legend. Alexei Mikhailovich Latkin, he even had his own russian passport. Alex Rider, London schoolboy, was a thing of the past. Alex now spoke russian, had perfected russian mannerisms and even dreamt in russian. Alex had completed sniper training to Yassen's meticulous standards, and would be working as back up for Yassen.
It had been a long flight from Kiev to Bogota, even in first class. Alex felt as sick as a dog, something he had ingested had not agreed with him. Alex had puked in passport control after asking for a bucket in spanish. The officers had rushed them through with instructions of the best hospital in Bogota for the poor sick boy.
Yassen had let Alex lie down in the taxi, the boy's head on his lap stroking his dark hair. They arrived at a plush hotel. Yassen carrying Alex as the concierge arranged for a doctor to be sent to their suite.
Alex woke to Yassen stroking his face. He then helped Alex into the shower. As Yassen washed Alex he told him in a quiet voice that the operation was a CIA sting. The suite was bugged. Yassen was arranging transport to Cuba, but the assassin thought the CIA were after Alex.
The idea of driving a wedge between the SIS and their allies was an unforeseen opportunity. Yassen was sure that MI6 had not told the CIA the full story, because using underage agents was just not done. Alex was told to play the role of brainwashed hostage.
Two CIA operatives visited later that day as clients for Yassen's services. Alex lay perfectly still in the centre of the room with lunch, a delicate array of sushi displayed on his torso and legs, a small towel covering his groin. Yassen looking relaxed and very handsome in a silk kimono poured out sake for his clients.
Alex watched as the younger female agent looked positively ill when glancing at Alex. Alex thought it was bad form for her to break her composure at the sight of one underage captive. The lunch lasted an hour and a half with promised of wire transfers and files via an intermediary.
Yassen left late that afternoon. He was certain the CIA would make their move that evening. Before he left, Yassen had drugged Alex, so he would be asleep till morning. Alex woke to a dark suite, alone. Yassen had let him. There had been no extraction. Obviously the CIA had discovered he was an MI6 operative, he was on his own.
Four CIA operatives entered the suite at 4:30am, no guards, the only sound in the suite was the shower. Checking out the area proved the main room and bedroom were empty with no booby traps. Two operatives flanked the bathroom door, one covered them, and one covered the room's exit. As they burst in the room, their gaze drawn to the slumped figure of the extraction target; a trail of red in the water, blood pouring from slashed wrists.
Fuck swore one of the operatives, as the other switched off the shower and pushed the dropped glass fragment put of Alex's reach. He then pulled Alex from the water, wrapped towels around his wrists. Pulse slow and respiration shallow. The only responses from Alex we soft groans. Barely conscious. The special forces operative whispered soft reassurance to the kid "Hold on we're gonna get you outta here. Hold on."
Firefox Alpha Sierra Tango.. Target secured extraction in two minutes Medic on stand by. A large towel was wrapped around Alex and he was lifted over the operatives shoulders and they exited to the stairs and sprinted to the roof.
Alex dreamt of a helicopter's loud whine, he was so thirsty as if back in the desert, at the start of his interrogation.
A bright light was being shone in his eyes, he was unable to bat it away all he managed in protest was a dry half cough. An american asked for his name... Alexei Mikhailovich? thought Alex. The voice continued as "Your real name" was asked for forcefully, Alex thought hard, his brow creased in concentration as if remembering a half forgotten secret "Alex... Alex Rider", the teenager answered in a raspy whisper.
"Have some ice chips, Alex, it'll help". Alex felt the cool wet splinters melt on his tongue. "What's your date of birth Alex...".
Alex thought about it and answered "13th February 1987".
"Ok Alex can you open you eyes for me." Alex opened his eyes blearily to a room that was far too bright and painted grey. "Alex did you cut your wrists?"
"Yes." Alex looked around and noted the restraints on his arms and legs. The hiss of oxygen to a cannula on his nose.. He had a bag of blood and saline into a catheter on his arm. The steady slow blips of a heart monitor.
"Ok Alex, I know your tired. Go back to sleep." Alex closed his eyes but the voice continued. "The kids still full of either a strong tranquilizer or morphine, high as a fucking kite. You'll have to wait to debrief him. Get the shrink up here, as well. This is out of my comfort zone." The voices mumbled incoherently, as Alex lost the ability to concentrate.
Interlude
John Masterson listened to the call on speaker "Fingerprints match what the Brits sent us. The kid is definitely Alex Rider." The CIA agent then looked up the CIA file for the Scorpia assassin. The Russian was a known assassin and torture expert. The kid's kidnapping, torture and reprogramming did not fit with any known modus operandi of the russian's. Yassen worked alone. Then Masterson noticed a short note attached to Gregorovich's file
Known associates: Former partner Hunter. Assassin for Scorpia c. 1983-1987. Trainer at Malogosto.
AKA John Rider, SAS/MI6 agent. Assassinated 11th May 1987.
Masterson's blood ran cold, Revenge now extended to our kids. The extraction team had all seen that Yassen had broken the kid and brainwashed him. Yassen had left the boy as he said he would but the state of the kid almost made Masterson sick. He'd been in the room as the emergency team had stabilsed him and started to catalogue his injuries. The kid was been clean of DNA.