Hey peeps! Sorry I'm late, I haven't been able to figure out what to do for this chapter. But I know now, so here's an update!

This takes place after Scorpia Rising.

I do not own Alex Rider.

The woman sat at a desk with three piles of paper in front of her. The one to the left was in a bin labeled 'Out' and the one to the right was labeled 'In'. A single form made up the stack in front of her. A pen scribbled across it, filling in boxes and signing the woman's name wherever it was necessary. Every now and then she would pause and look at the clock on the wall. She would sigh, unwrap a piece of candy from the bag sitting in front of her, pop the red and white into her mouth, and then continue working.

This went on until she paused and looked at the clock that now read 13:00 hours. The woman capped her pen and placed it in a desk drawer. She folded her hands on top of the mahogany wood and sat up straight, eyes staring straight ahead. Five seconds later, a knock sounded on the door.

The woman took a deep breath and then called out, "Come in."

The door creaked as it opened to reveal a tall, thin man on the other side. He entered and locked eyes with the woman. She nodded to the chair in front of her desk. He sat.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. There is a job that needs to be done." There was a pause as the woman studied the man before her while simultaneously placing another candy in her mouth, where it immediately moved to the side to be sucked on. "Alex Rider has become a problem. He needs to be taken care of."

"And you want me to do it?" If the man was any other man, his eyebrows would have risen. As it was, this man was careful not to move his painstakingly constructed features.

"No. I want you to hire someone else to do it. A mercenary who will not give us away. This cannot be traced back to us."

"Of course." The man nodded. "How soon do you want it done?"

"Within the week, preferably in the next two days."

The man nodded once more. The woman waved her hand in dismissal, and the man stood. He moved towards the door, but as his hand hovered on the doorknob, he paused. Turning around to face the woman, he asked warily, "What exactly has the boy done to deserve termination?"

If the woman was shocked at her deputy's insubordination, she didn't show it. "It isn't so much as what he has done as what he might do. He has the power to bring us down."

Understanding the unspoken dismissal, the man turned again and exited the room. Closing the door behind him and hiding a wince at the squeak it made, he eyed the sign on the door that read 'Mrs. Jones' before turning and walking down the hall.

Inside the room, the woman smiled that the order was given and that the assassination would never be traced back to MI6. "The good thing about spies," she murmured to herself, "is that they always die."

So, it was a little short and morbid, but I hope you enjoyed it. Please review!