CHAPTER 4- Step 3

AN: Yeah, I warned ya. But ya didn't listen, didja?

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Snake wasn't surprised to see the rest of K Unit standing at his door, despite the early hour of the morning. They'd been almost a constant presence since Alex was missing. He wordlessly let them in.

Wolf was already sitting at the kitchen table, talking on the phone. They had all pooled together their resources and contacts from their missions to try and find the missing boy, but so far, nothing had worked.

This was the first real hope they had, since the contact had actually rang them. The men were quiet as they waited for Wolf to finish the call.

Wolf sighed as he hung up, putting his head in his hands.

"No luck?" Snake asked.

"We found him," Wolf whispered in relief.

"Is he alive?" Eagle asked carefully.

Wolf nodded. "For the moment. There was an altercation in the cell last night. Alex was involved. Ed wouldn't go into more than that, but it was bad. He won't survive another night there."

"Well where is he?" Fox demanded.

"Mahdia, Guyana. Ed is a guard there, and he owes me a favor."

"Can he get him out of there?"

"He said he'd see what he could do, and call me back when he had a plan."

Snake immediately picked up on the censure in Wolf's voice. "What is it?"

"He doesn't think Alex will go. Apparently he's become quite protective of another boy."

"And?"

"And I know Alex. He won't leave without making sure the rest of the prisoners are safe from the Yakuza. Unfortunately, they control the entire village. Getting in to get him is going to be almost impossible. The best we can do is be ready for when Alex makes his move."

Fox cursed. "I hate that boy sometimes."

Wolf sighed. "There's more."

Eagle flinched at the murderous look on his leaders face. "We're not going to like this, are we?"

"Ed knows who sold Alex out."

But Snake already knew. "MI6."

Wolf nodded. "Alan Blunt, to be specific."

"That's not possible. I mean, why would Blunt destroy one of his best operatives?" Fox demanded, shaking his head.

"Actually, in a weird and perverted way, it makes sense. Jones told me they were getting ready to send him in undercover, and that they were just making up his cover story. What better cover story than the real thing? Alex is one of their best, the best. Blunt is probably relying on Alex to pull another famous escape out of his hat," Wolf explained.

"And if he can't?"

"Then I'm pretty sure Alex Rider will join the ranks of Missing Children posters in the post office and never be spoken of again."

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Alex shifted uncomfortably in his crouched position. It had been a hell of a day, and last night's adventures weren't doing him any good either. Dexter had somehow managed to convince several of the other prisoners to beat the snot out of Alex in retribution for his broken nose.

He was pretty sure he hurt everywhere that it was possible to. He heard a scuff of gravel and looked up.

"Sorry about last night, mate. I did try to warn you," Bryan put out.

Alex nodded. "It was my fault. I exposed my back instead of staying against the bars. I knew better."

"Are you alright, then?"

Alex merely glared at the other boy. Who in their right mind could possibly be okay after what had happened? Bryan seemed to get the message and backed off the topic. They worked together silently for hours, Bryan wincing in sympathy every time Alex flinched. The evidence of his beating was all over him.

His lip had been split, he was sporting a massive bruise on his cheek, there was a cut in his eyebrow that would probably scar. His back and chest were molted purple, red and black. It was pretty obvious from the way he moved that he had a couple of broken ribs as well. Alex's arms were red and bleeding as the boy tried to scratch off every layer of skin that had touched the deprived man the night before.

All in all, there was no way he could fend Dexter off tonight. And there was no escape. He could probably make it out himself, but there were others here who had it just as bad as Alex did, and probably deserved it less.

He couldn't help it. His stomach heaved as the horn sounded. Unfortunately, he had nothing left to bring up. He sat frozen to the spot, shaking. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go back in there and face that again tonight.

He felt hands grab him and immediately started struggling. He managed to land a solid punch and then felt nothing as he passed out, his body unable to handle it's panicked state anymore.

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Ed grunted as the boy went limp in his arms. He saw Carl coming his way, and motioned him over.

"Give me a hand, will ya? This brat is going to solitary for the night."

Carl frowned. "Sato said if there were any problems to send him to the brothel for the night."

"Too much work, and we're almost due for our dinner."

Carl nodded. "You're right."

Between the two of them, they managed to manhandle the unconscious boy into the solitary cell. They threw him in, mindless of his injuries. Carl stood back.

"You get him locked up. I'll save you a spot in the mess," he called as he left, not waiting for Ed's answer.

Quickly turning back to the boy, Ed slapped his bruised cheek, hoping the flare of pain would bring him around. It worked, rather unfortunately. The boy immediately started struggling.

"Calm down, boy. Listen, I have a contact in SAS that I owe a favor to. He knows you're here."

Alex calmed immediately, and took a moment to realize where he was. "Solitary?"

"Would you prefer if I let Dexter have his way with you?" Ed snarled.

Alex shook his head, the image making him nauseas again. "I'm good, thanks."

"My contact is going to be ready for anything you might do, but I suggest you do it tonight. I'm going to leave the door unlocked, but beyond that, I can't do anything. Almost all the guards will be having dinner in about ten minutes. It usually takes us about an hour. No one will be back to check on you."

"Why are you doing this?" Alex asked, trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing.

"Like I said, I owe a favor to a SAS contact. But more importantly, I owe a blood debt to another acquaintance of yours. Yassen Gregorovich. I know he's dead, but I figure this makes us even in the books. He wouldn't want you to rot here," Ed explained, and Alex saw a glimmer of emotion from the man. Obviously Ed considered his debt to Yassen more of a priority, dead or not.

Alex nodded. He realized he was still shaking and closed his eyes to calm himself down. He heard the door close, but knew it wouldn't be locked. He almost chuckled. Once again Yassen had managed to save his life in his own, unique, roundabout way.

He had to make his move tonight. But what could he do? He was alone, and beaten to a pulp. He was man enough to admit his mental state wasn't quite as fixed as it should be, either.

He tried to shake away the thoughts of everything that had happened over the past weeks. He had to get himself out of here, and somehow find a way to free everyone else too. He put himself into that meditative state, and carefully fed each of the events into the flame. Once that was done, he opened his eyes, but kept the flame alive. He didn't want to be blank, he wanted to be alert.

And all at once, it came to him. He had no choice. He was going to have to assassinate Sato and the others. Tonight. The Guards weren't paid well enough to die for their leaders. Ed was a perfect example of it. Cut off the head and the body would die.

What could he use? He knew they all stayed in the main house. He remembered the TNT in his pocket. The amount was too small for much of an explosion, but he knew where the rest of it was kept.

Alex swallowed. He didn't particularly enjoy the knowledge that the rest of the explosives were kept in the Branding House. He felt his mental flame waver under the pressure of the images coming to him, but fought to keep it under control. There would be time later, when all was said and done, for him to fall apart. For the moment, he had a mission to complete.

Quietly he opened the door, relieved to find no one around. Ed had been right. The Guards were happy in the knowledge that the prisoners were safely locked away for the night. He slipped out, realizing that the cell was actually an iron room built in the middle of nowhere. He knew he was going to be pushed to his limits tonight. His body screamed with every movement he made to simply lie down and rest, but he forced himself forward, to ignore the pain as much as he could.

He could barely see the light from the fire that was a permanent fixture in the Branding House. That made a lot of sense. Keeping explosives in a building whose sole design was to get iron hot enough to melt human flesh. Yep, brilliant, that.

Good, Alex, he thought to himself as he moved through the night, sarcasm is good. Much better than- no, keep it together. Sarcasm is good.

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Wolf stepped jumped out of the stealth chopper that was behind him. The rest of K Unit followed. They moved out of the way as the blades slowly stopped, and then stood up. They were on the far reaches of the compound. They didn't dare get any closer for fear of arousing suspicion.

"What now?" Eagle asked.

"Now we wait for Alex's signal," Wolf replied in a dead calm.

"How will we know what that it?" Fox intruded.

Snake chuckled. "Have you ever known Alex to do anything small?"

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Alex glanced up as something moved silently through the night. He could just hear the faint whir of the blades. This constant state of pre-meditation he was holding was draining him, but it kept all his sense on high alert. It had been there for a moment, and then gone.

He remembered what Ed had said. 'My contact is going to be ready for anything you do'. Was the SAS contact here? Waiting for something? And who was the SAS contact? Why SAS and not MI6?

He almost tripped, but quickly righted himself. He had just another mile to go to the Main House. He had a pack on his shoulders laden with C4 and anything else he had found that would enlarge the explosion. He felt bad for the surrounding village. The fall out from this would be big, but he didn't dare stop long enough to actually care about it. He couldn't afford emotions right now. He had also managed to grab a plaid shirt, much too large for him, but better than nothing, a pack of matches, and a basic tool kit.

As he ran, he thought through the most likely security systems he would encounter. Most likely just basic robber alarms. The Yakuza had a pretty sweet set up out here. There was no one to challenge them. Their slaves were tightly locked away at night, and there were plenty of Guards around should even one escape. According to Sato, the slaves would turn on each other for a spec of food.

He was fairly confident in his assessment, which meant all he had to do was cut the power to the house. Again, easily done with the tools in his pack. The more difficult would be finding the outside power source.

There, he could see the house in front of him. Some of the lights were on, but Alex wasn't worried. He was completely focused on his mission now. He would destroy the Yakuza cell. If it was the last thing he did, he'd made sure the likes of Sato were never seen again.

The main gate was easy enough to climb under. He waited, carefully listening for the sound of dogs, though he hadn't remembered hearing any. Slipping down the driveway, he made his way to the East of the house, following the power line that went into it.

Sure enough, tucked between the house and the garage was the power box. He set down the pack, feeling not some little relief at the loss of extra weight on his battered body, and quickly set to work. He opened it carefully, thankful when no alarms blared.

The inside was a bunch of wires. All of them looked old. He cursed. They were also all the same color. A dull, dusty gray. It was impossible to quickly figure out which one went where.

Thinking quickly, he reached into his jeans pocket and grabbed a small handful of the black powder he had stolen the other day. He threw it into the box. He moved his pack away, and then lit a match. He threw it toward the box, and dived out of the way, covering his eyes. There wasn't enough powder to do any serious damage, but the flash would burn out his night vision.

He heard the small bang and then every light in the house went out. He rolled to his feet and grabbed his pack. He had managed to cut the alarms, but he had also managed to announce his presence.

Cursing himself for not thinking it all the way through, he ran around the west side of the house. He smashed in the basement window and wriggled through. An adult wouldn't have fit through, as it was he managed to gather a few more gashes on his stomach. They weren't deep, but were already bleeding. Annoyed with himself once again, Alex brushed off any glass that had come off in his entry.

He'd already spotted his targets as his vision adjusted. The basement was lined with the old support beams that held up the main floor of the house. He quickly set his charges, but suddenly knew it wasn't going to be enough. In order for his plan to work, he had to neutralize every member of the Cell at the same time.

Shouldering the pack, he made his way up the stairs. He listened at the door for a moment, not hearing any activity on the other side, he slowly opened the door. Slipping though, he made his way into the main floor of the house.

He thought for a moment. Where would be the most effective location? He smiled. The kitchen. He moved off in the direction he thought it would be. Pushing through another door, he was surprised when he came on a wine cellar instead. Obviously his sense of direction wasn't what it used to be, but this would do.

He set the last of his charges all around. Hopefully, the alcohol would increase the explosion. Unfortunately, he had no choice but set them on a timer. The detonator only worked for the charges downstairs.

Taking a deep breath, Alex took a moment to realize what he was about to do. And then set the timer for ten minutes. He couldn't afford to think of what he was doing. This was his only way out, and the only way to free the other slaves.

He ran back the directly he came, but skidded to a halt. Three guards, Carl included, stood in front of him. He glanced at his watch. Seven minutes to go. Should he just run? No, they would probably shoot him down before he managed two steps. Sighing, he dropped his pack, thankful he had pocketed the detonator in the wine cellar.

"What the hell are you doing out?" Carl shouted, furious.

Alex shrugged. "There are a thousand ways to pick a lock."

"Get him," Carl ordered.

Alex immediately took up a karate stance as the other two guards rushed him. Obviously they didn't consider him much of a threat as one hung back. He swung out at Alex, who ducked and came up with a round house solid enough to knock the guard out. The second approached more carefully, his gun out in front of him.

Alex lashed out with a chop and paralyzed the man's wrist. The gun dropped to the ground, and he quickly followed up with a solid punch to the man's temple, dropping him instantly.

Carl snarled at him. Alex glanced at his watch. Three minutes. He didn't have time for this. He could feel himself tiring, and knew he didn't have another fight in him. Without thinking he dived for the downed guards gun just as Carl raised his and fired. The bullet missed him by an inch. He whipped up the handgun, taking the safety off in his upward motion, and fired.

He found his mark in Carl's wrist, forcing him to drop the gun. Alex threw his own away and ran. He could hear the man's cursing behind him, but didn't stop to pay attention. He was quickly running out of time.

He reached the front door and threw it open, still running. But even as he did, Alex knew he wasn't going to get far enough away fast enough. He got as far the main gate when the wine cellar blew, taking out half the house.

Alex was thrown to the ground by the force of the blast, but quickly rolled over and fetched the detonator from his pocket, pressing the button. The support beams each blew, raining fire laden debris on him. He covered his head with his arms.

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K Unit watched the explosion.

"That would be our signal," Wolf smirked, making the 'move in' motion with his hand.

The unit quickly made their way down to the burning remains of the main house. All of them had the same question their minds.

Had Alex managed to get out of the house before it blew?

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Alex lifted his head, using his shoulders to shrug off the debris collected on his back. He blinked at the raging inferno behind him. His back felt hot, and he could feel a few superficial burns, several new bruises, and he definitely recognized the signs of a mild concussion by now, but all in all, he had come out of it relatively unscathed.

He slowly pushed himself up, careful to test each bone. He was shaky, but nothing had been broken. His only real concern was that his ribs hurt like hell. He could barely draw a breath without coughing. He tasted blood in his mouth, but suspected he had bitten his tongue. He didn't want to think about the other possibility.

No one was running from the building. Whoever had been in it, was now dead. There were a few guards trying to put out the blaze, but most of them had already fled. Did that mean he could rest now? His eyes tried to close, but he forced them open, and then forced his stiff body to stand, swaying lightly. No. He couldn't. He'd only completed half his mission. He still had to free the others.

He felt around in his pocket to see how much powder was left. Barely a pinch, but it would do. Looking around, he spotted a jeep. He limped over to it. For once, things were going his way and the keys were dangling in the ignition. Someone had jumped out of it without thinking.

He climbed in, started it, and headed for the mines.

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K Unit arrived just in time to see Alex jump into a jeep and drive off at full speed. They'd found no resistance, which had surprised them.

Wolf considered, then headed for another jeep.

"Where are we going now?" Eagle asked impatiently. He had hoped for a little more action, but it looked like Alex had already taken care of any threats. He felt a little put out.

"We're going to follow Alex," Snake told him, as though it should be obvious.

"I'm starting to wonder if we're even needed here," Eagle grumbled as they drove off.

"Alex looked pretty done in. He's managed just fine so far, but somehow I doubt he's ready to find a way out of the country," Fox pointed out. "I think he's on his last legs."

Wolf scowled. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Our mission now is to get him home."

"And we are, of course, planning the assassination of one Alan Blunt, aren't we?" Eagle chipped in.

"I don't think we have to worry about that. The problem with creating an intelligent weapon is never knowing where it's going to decide to strike," Snake replied seriously.

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Alex stopped outside the Branding House. He could see firelight through the windows, and someone moving inside. Matt? He searched the inside of the jeep and found a handgun in the glove compartment. He checked to make sure it was loaded. He'd about had his fill of killing, but he wasn't prepared to sacrifice the mission to avoid it.

Armed, he went into the house. Matt was scurrying around, trying to pack his things. He barely looked up at Alex, took in the gun pointed at him, and nodded.

"So you're the one who did it, eh? I suspected as much. I knew Sato had bitten off more than he could chew this time," Matt declared with a chuckle.

"You're not going anywhere," Alex asserted. "I don't want to kill you, but I won't let you get away, either."

Matt shrugged. "I don't think you're going to kill anyone. If I'm right, and I usually am, you're about five seconds from collapsing. Then I'll just take your gun, and make sure you don't spoil any other plans."

Alex snarled. "Don't underestimate me. So far everyone who has is dead."

"I believe you. But we seem to have a problem, my boy. I'm not going to sit here and wait for whatever authorities you work for, and you are most definitely not up for a fight," Matt pointed out cheerfully.

To make his point, Matt started walking calmly toward Alex. He closed his eyes. There was no choice. This man took a sick pleasure in the work he did, and he wasn't stopped here, he would continue to hurt, kill and maim others.

"Please," Alex begged quietly. "Don't make me do this."

But Matt didn't stop. He was fully confident in his assessment of Alex. Alex cried out in rage, firing as he did so. Matt's expression never had a chance to change. He hit the floor, instantly dead from the bullet between his eyes, his face still showing that cocky confidence that had gotten him killed.

Moving quickly, Alex grabbed the keys and ran from the hut into the entrance of the tunnels. He came up against two more guards, but this time didn't hesitate. Both were dead before they could so much as register surprise at seeing him.

At last he reached the Cage. People were terrified, some crying, other shouting in anger. Most were silent when they saw him opening the door.

"You're free to go. I don't have a way out of Mahdia for you, but if you can find your way, your life is your own," Alex explained to the stunned people who hadn't yet moved.

His words seemed to kick in, and the people filed out quickly, eager to escape the hell they had been living. Alex had only been able to offer them a chance, but they would take it.

Bryan glanced at him on the way out, but said nothing.

He watched them go, turning back to the cell once. He was surprised to see Francois still lying on the floor. He dropped the gun and quickly ran over to him.

"Francois?"

"Alex. Mon ami. You have done a great thing," the old man wheezed, surprisingly, in halting English. Alex wanted to ask why their previous conversations had been in French, but didn't bother. He suspected it had made the old man feel better to speak his native tongue.

"We have to go," Alex whispered. "Can you stand?"

Francois shook his head, his breath rattling in his chest. Alex knew then, why the old man hadn't left. He was dying, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

"Leave me. I am happy."

"I can get you help," Alex pleaded desperately. This man had stood between him and insanity, and he wasn't going to let him die in this hell hole. "Just come with me."

"You're a good boy, Alex, but you're naïve. Let me go. Let me sleep."

Alex nodded, and sat, watching as the old man slipped into a sleep he would never wake from. He couldn't stop the tears from escaping, his shoulders shaking from the sobs. It felt like such a waste. For all that the old man had done for him, for that gentle kindness that had brought him back from the abyss, all he could offer in thanks was to let him slip away peacefully.

"Thank you, my friend," he whispered gently, pulling up the blanket that had covered him over his face.

"How very touching."

Alex froze as he heard the voice. No, it couldn't be. Surely Dexter would have left with the others? He should turn around, he knew. Take up a defensive position, but he couldn't. Three little words snarled at him had paralyzed him with fear. He wasn't even able to move when he heard the click of the gun he had stupidly tossed away.

"I had a good thing going here. You've ruined it!" Dexter snarled, reaching down and pulling Alex up against him, holding him tightly, his back to the massive chest. Alex felt the cool metal of the barrel against his temple.

Alex's brain screamed at him to move, to run, to do something, but he couldn't. His body had completely refused to obey any of the orders his mind was sending it. In retaliation, his mind conjured up every horrific vision of what had almost happened the previous night. He couldn't help but watch as they totally consumed any control he might have had. He was too exhausted to fight it, and lost himself in them.

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