I'm back! It doesn't feel like that long to me 'cause I've been so busy, but I know it's probably been 2... 3... 4... weeks, so I'm really really sorry. I think this is a longer chapter though so does that make up for it?
Quick book recommendation: The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss and The Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss. Amazing fantasy books compared to LOTR.
Anyway, I have to go in a minute so the Rs.
Read, revel, review! (I still love you all!)
Alex made it halfway to the woods before he collapsed. He'd gone to take another step and his knee had gone from underneath him, making him fall to the ground in a heap. Dragging himself into a sitting position, he bit back a groan, determined not to look weak – whether anyone was watching or not.
Later, he knew, he would regret coming this far. He still had to go back and Diana Meacher had told him to rest his leg – and back – at every opportunity.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he angrily scrolled through his contacts, punching the buttons as though they were Alan Blunt himself. He pressed call, then listened as it rang.
It was picked up three rings later.
"Hello?" A woman answered. "This is Mr. Blunt's office."
Alex's eyes widened. "I need to talk to Blunt," he said. "Now. Tell him it's Alex Rider and that he'd better come up with a convincing excuse in the next thirty seconds, or he's dead."
The receptionist stuttered nervously. "I'm sorry, I need your ID-"
"I don't have one. Tell Blunt now."
"Y-yes, sir. If you wait one moment..."
Alex tapped the ground impatiently, looking around. There was a unit walking in the distance, carrying a large tree on their shoulders, another climbing the assault course. In a hut nearby, some sort of chanting could be heard – lots of men repeating the same thing over and over. It sounded like they were speaking in French. His back hurt.
"Alex."
Alex's attention snapped back to the voice in his ear.
"Blunt," he said venomously. "You said this was a private number. You said it would go straight to you in an emergency."
"In an emergency. Right now I know you're in a safe environment with no danger. What is it?"
"Safe?" Alex laughed. "This is a camp of SAS soldiers. I'm a fourteen year old boy." He laughed again, his lips twisted bitterly. "What if someone was storming the camp? What if SCORPIA were here? What if the Chinese Triad came after me again, or the Snakehead? I could be dead before I even spoke to you."
Alex was breathing heavily, spit flying out of his mouth with every word. He was breathing too heavily, aggravating his wounds. He tried to steady his breaths.
"Have you quite finished?" Blunt asked.
"No!" He paused. "Maybe. Yes."
"Good. Maybe now you can tell me what you rang about? I have a meeting with the Prime Minister in half an hour, and I'd rather not be late."
"Of course, of course. Don't worry about me, I'm not important. If you need to focus your undivided attention on this meeting, then..."
"The Prime Minister is rather important, Alex."
"Whatever." Alex paused, marvelling at the teenage word. The child in him was still there somewhere, then. Then he remembered why he was calling the head of MI6 anyway, and anger returned in full force. "What have you done?" he seethed, ignoring the cliché of his words.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Blunt replied.
Alex swore.
"Of course you don't. The newspapers. The media. 'Boy killed in terrorist's revenge'. Ring any bells?"
Blunt sighed and something creaked. Alex could just imagine him leaning back in his leather chair. "It was necessary and I'm sure you'll understand our reasons-"
"Really."
"It was for your own protection. Think about it. Officially, your are dead. This way, none of your enemies will even think of finding you for revenge. None of your friends will be in danger – to be used as leverage or get too close to the truth. Nobody will get hurt trying to rescue you from hopeless situations, like what's her name, like-"
"Okay, I get it." Alex scowled, stopping Blunt before he could say those words."But to kill me? I have a life – a concept you might not understand - and friends. Why couldn't I just be, I don't know, missing?"
"Alex, I don't have time for this."
"You have ruined my life, Blunt, and now my death as well. And we both know it wasn't for my protection – you couldn't care less if I were killed. This was because of your ulterior motives."
"Alex-"
"Because if it were known that MI6 used and blackmailed a kid, there would be a public uproar. If you use a kid who doesn't exist-"
The dial tone sounded in his ear. Blunt had hung up.
The Need To Know :: The Need To Know
Back in his office, Liverpool Street, London, Alan Blunt pressed a button on his desk and sat back as his receptionist hurried through the door.
"Yes?" she asked, her bleached blonde hair swinging wildly.
Alan leaned forwards, clasping his hands. His eyes stared stared straight at the wall behind the receptionist, his gaze cold and calculating. The woman looked nervously behind her, then back at her boss.
"Mr. Blunt?"
The grey eyes snapped to her face. "Send a message to Mrs. Jones' office. We need back up at the Brecon Beacons. One man should do, someone to keep an eye on Rider. Have you got that?"
"Yes."
"Good. And if he rings again-"
The receptionist smiled nervously. "Who rings?"
"Rider." Alan scowled at her. "If he rings again, you'd better put it straight through to me." He deliberated for a moment. "But only if it seems urgent."
The receptionist nodded, and turned to leave."I also need you to draft a job application for a new receptionist."
Alan stood up and straightened his tie while the woman hurried out, her face paling. The matter was already out of mind. He had a meeting with the Prime Minister to attend.
The Need To Know :: The Need To Know
"I don't get it. Who could have done this?"
The three members of K-Unit were sat round a table in the mess hall, each of them experiencing painful headaches and an over dose of caffeine. Eagle, who had just spoken, let his head fall onto the table.
"It might have been no one," Snake suggested for the third time. "You know what the media are like, they might just have got the story wrong. Looking at his injuries," -everyone knew who he meant- "he almost was dead."
Wolf nodded grimly. "Or our Cub has some powerful enemies."
"Or it's something else entirely."
The three of them simultaneously reached for their coffees and took long sips, stumped. They'd been going round in circles for hours.
"Where is he anyway?" Wolf asked looking around.
"Dunnae." Snake shrugged.
"Not in here," Eagle muttered.
Wolf waved at a passing SAS man, Hyena. "Hey, you seen our little Cub?"
"What, lost him already?" the short, pale skinned man replied, his wide smile and teeth showing exactly how he had gotten his name. "No, actually. Something wrong?"
Wolf shook his head. "No."
"Right." Disbelief shone in the man's eyes. "Well if that's all, I have to go." His eyes twinkled. "I have some poker players to con."
They watched him walk away.
"We should look for him," Snake said uncertainly at the same time that Wolf said; "D'you think he's alright?"
They looked at each other.
"No," Snake said. "He wasn't hurt that bad. He's been in hospital."
"He can look after himself," Wolf tried to reassure. "He can survive five minutes on his own."
They started at each other awkwardly. Snake coughed. Wolf looked away and scowled. Eagle watched them both, humour in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Mother hen and daddy wolf?" he commented
"Eagle?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
The Need To Know :: The Need To Know
It was the phone ringing that made him look up. All around him, people looked up from their own desks and stared. They managed to look almost as surprised as him himself, a tremendous feat in itself. This was the office, down in the second basement of the Royal and General bank where people worked while they recovered. The work done down here was so boring, so dull, and so totally unnecessary, that the paperwork was actually brought down by staff that weren't needed because none of it was important enough to be faxed or emailed and dealt with quickly.
And the phones never rang.
Almost tentatively, he reached out and picked the phone up. He didn't even have time to open his mouth before the voice on the other end started speaking.
"You're needed."
The voice was, shockingly, undoubtedly, Mrs. Jones. His jaw dropped open. "I-I'm sorry?" he managed.
"Immediately. Security detail. SAS camp, Brecon Beacons. You remember Alex?"
"R-Rider?"
"Correct. He's showing signs of restlessness and he's not yet in a state to be moved. We want you to make sure he doesn't step out of line and stays in place."
"When do I leave?"
"Now. And- be gentle. He's had a rough time. He needs someone he knows and trusts around him."
He nodded to himself. "Trust is a loose term with Alex."
"I know." Mrs. Jones paused and the rustling of a sweet wrapper crackled over the phone. "And, if you could tell him-" she broke off. "I am sorry."
She hung up, and a certain Benjamin Daniels, formerly known as Fox, stared at the phone in shock, The deputy head of MI6 had just given him an assignment personally. And unless he was much mistaken, he'd say that he had just heard the most emotional words he, or anyone else, had heard from a head of MI6 in at least a decade.
The Need To Know :: The Need To Know
The sun was starting to sink down in the sky when Alex finally move from his spot on the floor., It was getting chilly and he knew that if he stayed here much longer, he would be stiffer than he already was and not be able to move at all. Besides, he'd already heard Wolf call for him once or twice and it was nearly time for dinner. He hadn't eaten since about half five that morning and his stomach was complaining loudly.
With a groan, he slowly climbed up wincing with each movement, his back and stomach complaining more than the rest. Alex patted his pocket, checking for his pills. He'd have to take some more when he ate whatever the SAS called the mush they served in place of food.
The walk that he had made in about four, five minutes before now took him about twelve. His rush of adrenaline had gone and somehow, sitting in the grass for most of the afternoon had exhausted him. Finally, he arrived at the mess hall.
Stopping outside, he could tell that all of the SAS units were there. A babble of voices, laughter. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if he should come back later and beg something off the cooks. Then he asked himself if he was a top of the range, successful, never-failed-a-mission spy – ex-spy – or a scared little school boy. He steeled himself and shoved the door open and walked in.
The rumours must have got around because to their credit, the SAS men barely faltered in their conversation. Stares were kept to a minimum and for the most part, conversation kept on track. It was a restraint Alex hadn't experienced in a long time, especially considering the state he was in. He didn't miss K-Unit's reactions though; Wolf's look of relief that was gone from his face as soon as it had come; a little ease of the tightening around Snake's eyes and shoulders; and last of all, Eagle's broad smile.
Alex grabbed his food and sat down at their table next to Wolf where the only free seat was. Starting to eat, he glanced up at the three men who were staring at him. He raised an eyebrow, his words, though unspoken, hanging in the air. Then his eyes caught on Snake's face and he subtly hid a smile. "Your eye..."
The bruise was quite spectacular if Alex said so himself. He decided he was actually quite proud of it.
The three men exchanged glances. Wolf pulled something out from under the table and laid it out on the table. The newspaper. "Care to explain?"
Alex glanced down, his eyes avoiding the picture that covered most of the page. "Not particularly.""
"Tough." Snake leant forwards on the table. "Because we'd be very eager to know why the rest of the world seems to think you are dead. And your guardian while we're at it, because she must be around somewhere."
Alex closed his eyes. "I don't want to tell you."
Looks were exchanged. "Look, Cub," Eagle said, leaning forwards. "You're not stupid, we're not stupid. Ask yourself, why are you here?"
"Recovery and safety," Alex said without missing a beat.
"Really?" Eagle pinched his nose. "I don't know how you're involved with MI6 and I'm not sure I want to know, but-" he pointed a finger, "you were sent here for a reason. In two weeks, we go back on active duty and we'll probably go off somewhere remote with no toilets, proper food, or good coffee. In two weeks, you could be gone as well."
"What are you saying?"
Wolf pounded the table. "Dammit kid," he muttered. "You dumb?"
Alex cast his eyes to the table. In truth, he knew exactly what they were saying but knew he couldn't bring himself to say what they wanted him to.
"Save yerself a headache," Snake said.
The three men stared at Alex, their stares weighing him down, pinning him to his seat. His situation was starting to get desperate when the door to the mess hall opened abruptly with a bang, the light from inside framing a large, hooded man.
"I don't mean to make an entrance or anything," he said in a deep voice. "But it sort of comes with the job."
Confronted by the stares of the whole of the SAS unit, he slowly stepped inside and smiled broadly. It was, unmistakably, Ben.
"Did you miss me?"
The Need To Know :: The Need To Know
It was half an hour later when everyone had said their hellos and welcome backs with even the Sergeant popping in for a visit. All the newbies had introduced themselves and all the usual questions had been asked by the time Ben, or Fox as he was more widely known round here, sat down. In his hand was a pint of beer that the cooks had somehow managed to dig up from somewhere, an object of focus for most of the SAS men.
Eagle was grinning widely as well as drooling over the sacred beer, Snake was smiling and even Wolf's mouth was slightly upturned. It was a special occasion for all.
"So, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Snake asked finally.
Ben grimaced. "Business I'm afraid."
"Oh, the agent." Wolf said. "You do know who he is, rig-"
"Alex." Seeing their confused expressions, Ben corrected himself. "Cub."
"That's his name?"
Ben's eyes widened incredulously. "He's been here a day and you didn't know his name?"
The three of them shifted nervously. "We haven't really... spoken," Wolf muttered.
"Jeez," Ben whistled. "Speaking of the devil, where is he?"
"He's right-" Wolf turned round, pointing to a recently vacated space on the table behind them. "Here."
"Right."