Alex Rider had been in the SAS camp for three weeks. After he realized that he couldn't get attached to these men he threw himself into his training and schoolwork. Everyday, except Sundays, Alex would wake up at five-thirty. Each morning everyone would have to run five miles. It didn't matter what time, but it had to be done before breakfast ended at seven-thirty. Alex would be done running at six, get his schedule and then meditate until breakfast.

The day would go on and Alex would keep up with everything everyone threw at him. Mostly everyone, except a few, wanted him out. Despite what people expected, Alex excelled in everything he did.

Besides that day at the shooting range Alex didn't see Blunt, but Mr. Blunt saw plenty of Alex. Blunt got reports on Alex every three days. At MI6 Blunt and Jones were working at keeping whoever was trying to kill Alex away. But not as hard as they could have. Blunt saw no reason to remove Alex or to take a step in removing him when Alex was gaining more skill.

On Sunday of the third week it rained. Not the cloudy, gray, sunless rain that usually happened; but a rain where the sky was blue and the sun shining. If there was anything in the world Alex loved anymore it was this kind of rain.

"Where are you going? It's Sunday, we don't have anything." Kudu asked, barely awake.

"It's raining out." Was all Alex said when he walked out the door.

When Alex was little he always imagined that he was an ordinary little boy. One who had a mom and dad, more that one uncle and some aunts, grandparents who spoiled him with candy, and cousins who ran around with him on holidays. This little boy lived in a red brick house surrounded by tall grass. This little boy's mother worked in the garden and when he looked out his window in the morning he would see her in her yellow sunhat and blue gloves. He would run downstairs, still in his pajamas, and run to her. She would see him coming and wipe the dirt off onto her clothes and open her arms. He would jump into them, burry his head in her neck and smell her, just smell her. She didn't wear perfume unless it was a special occasion, but she smelled like his mom. She would put him down, look at his pajamas and ask him what on earth he was thinking, running out with his pajamas on. He would laugh and run back into the house with his mother chasing him.

He would sit down at the kitchen table where he drew with his colors; sometimes on paper, sometimes on the table itself. His legs would be swinging back and forth and he would think about the day his feet would finally touch the floor. Some days he would slouch down until he was falling out of his chair, but the tips of his toes would be touching the floor and he would grin and sit up straighter in his chair, knowing that he was almost there. His mom would turn around with a smile on her face, breakfast in her hands and dirt still on her clothes, pretending she had no idea what he had just been doing.

They would sit down and Alex would talk about how he was going to be an astronaut one day and a mail man the next. His mother would sit there and listen, sometimes asking questions. He would have two helping and when he would get up form the table he would pretend he had a huge belly and could barely walk.

This little boy had a dog name Rex. They would play all day in that long grass and when they got tired they would use the last of their energy to run up the hill hend the red brick house. On the hill this little boy and his dog would lay there and look at the clouds trying to see shapes.

They would stay up there until they heard the car coming, then they would run down the hill and make it to the bottom to see a man getting out of the car. The man would see the two and smile, the little boy would run faster and yell "Daddy!" he would make it to the man and be swung around like a plain. Rex would be barking and jumping up and down. The little family would sit down for dinner and talk.

Once a week father and son would go up to the hill and lay out with their hands behind their heads. The little boy's daddy would tell him stories about when he was growing up and show him the constellations. On some nights his mommy would come too and they would all lay out there. The little boy would all lie out there. The little boy would sometimes see his mommy and daddy looking at each other with little smiles on their faces. That would make him happy.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

So I know I said I was going to stop this story, but I've been writing and I have about five chapters done. So I'm not done yet. Please review.