Disclaimer: I do not own the Alex Rider series.


Of Fish and Men

"Okay, settle down. Find your seats." First period and everyone was still socializing with their friends. Alex heard one reference to Point Blanc and nearly snapped his pencil in two. He spotted Spike across the classroom. The other boy hadn't said anything since overhearing the conversation in Sabina's room, but Alex thought he could see the wheels continue to spin in his friend's head.

"Class, today we are starting a series of units on the Constitution. The units will be structured as a series of debates on constitutional matters. Each of you will be randomly assigned to one side of the debate or the other for one of the units. Fifteen percent of your grade for the term will be determined by how well you marshal your arguments."

He woke his laptop from hibernation and turned on the smart board to display the slide show he had prepared.

"The first unit is titled 'Civil Liberties and the War on Terror'." He flipped through a montage of quotes and images.

They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety. - Benjamin Franklin

An image of the recovery workers at Ground Zero.

Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice - Barry Goldwater

A headline about the Shoe Bomber, quickly followed by an image of travelers waiting at an airport security checkpoint with their shoes and belts off.

If our First Amendment rights suffer as a result of the awful domestic terrorist attack in Oklahoma City the terrorists have indeed, won. - editorial in Ocala Star-Banner

Alex's breath caught as an image flashed up of the previous British prime minister standing on the steps of the Science Museum, waving off the assistance of the medics trying to treat his hand injury after the "attempted assassination". This picture had become a symbol of resolute courage, as he had neither accepted a bullet-proof vest nor rushed off to a hidden bunker. If the public only knew...

Alex was brought back to the moment by the sound of the teacher's voice. "OK, if your last name starts with A to...", he referred to his attendance book, "... J, then you are assigned to prepare to debate this topic. The specific focus will be to defend or oppose the passage of the PATRIOT Act. For now, prepare arguments on both sides, and next week I will inform you of which side you are assigned to. Now, everyone is responsible for reading Chapters 1 and 2..."


Alex moved to the next kiosk. He still had no idea what to get Sabina. They had been going out for several weeks, and he had never bought her anything. One trouble was that he didn't have any money of his own. The Royal and General hadn't released his uncle's estate, or even told him under what conditions he could gain control of the funds. Alex had thought about getting a job, but Liz had been adamant that Alex not worry about that for now. So Edward had given him some money; Alex had to admit to feeling a bit strange about using the man's money to buy his daughter a gift.

Edward hadn't exactly showered him with money. The allowance was fine for the normal day-to-day expenses of a teenager, but for buying a gift... Alex was definitely in the it's-the-thought-that-counts budgetary territory. The teen was not familiar with where to shop for bargains in San Francisco. He certainly couldn't ask Sabina. He might of thought to ask Emily, but he was not sure he could count on the girl's discretion; she was a bit of a blabbermouth. And to tell the truth, Alex was avoiding Spike a bit to prevent any follow-up questions to the little press conference video fiasco.

In desperation, he had gravitated towards one of San Francisco's most popular tourist traps: Fisherman's Wharf. He couldn't afford something expensive and tasteful, but maybe he could get points for something cheap and showy. That was why he found himself moving from kiosk to kiosk looking at the outdoor vendors' wares on and around the Wharf.

There was a cute young girl manning the next kiosk. Alex would have assured anyone who asked that this had nothing to do with why he wandered over to look at her goods, but... she flashed him a smile. "Can I help you?" There was some cheap jewelry on the shelves, but what had caught Alex's eye was the oversized scarves hanging from the roof of the kiosk.

"Can I see that one?" Alex asked tentatively, pointing to one of the scarves. The girl was wearing one, folded in a somewhat complicated fashion, such that it looked somewhere between a shawl and neckerchief. There were pictures around the kiosk of the all the various ways to wear it: as a beach wrap, a sarong, etc. Alex assumed Sabina would know what to do with it. He could definitely see her using it as a beach wrap, at least.

When he was handed the scarf he had pointed at, he saw that it was printed, rather than dyed or woven - and it was only printed on one side. I guess that's why it's so cheap. The synthetic fabric was... durable. Hmm, just what a girl is looking for, 'durable'. Still, he had been looking for a while, and this was the first thing in his price range that had any sort of style. He did have the dashing super-spy image to live up to. sigh.

He turned to pay, and caught a flash of blue and gray out of the corner of his eye. Something tickled the back of his mind. As he completed the transaction, he looked around casually. A well-built Asian man, or perhaps Pacific islander, was looking through a clothing bin. He was wearing a gray t-shirt and had a blue jacket draped over his arm. Neither the blue nor the gray were particularly noteworthy, but Alex knew he had seen the combination earlier. As he stuffed the scarf into the inside pocket of his windbreaker, Alex remembered that he had seen the man earlier - but then he had been wearing the jacket. And he wasn't entirely sure, but he may have seen the man even earlier with the jacket off.

Now, the man looked too young and too masculine to be dealing with menopausal hot flashes, so why the wardrobe changes? OK, I'm definitely getting paranoid. Still... He moved onto the next vendor, a toy kiosk, and positioned himself so he could see both mirrors on the sunglasses stand just beyond. The Asian man glanced towards Alex a couple of times, but Alex was still not convinced he wasn't imagining things.

"You going to buy that?"

Alex looked up at the owner of the kiosk, a little nonplussed that he had let the man get so close without noticing him. "Huh? This?" The teen glanced down at the robot dog that he was holding - a bit too tightly. It was definitely out of his price range. "Um, no. But I'll take, er... this." Alex picked up a superball that was fairly inexpensive. He hoped he hadn't been caught checking out the man following him.

Alex started away from the wharf. How was he going to be both sure of his suspicions, yet create some separation?

As he walked down the street along a series of storefronts, he saw just what he needed. He darted forward towards the door of large shop. He was pretty sure that he heard some footsteps quicken behind him. Ian had pointed out that entrance doors were very useful. For one, they were somewhat reflective, and you could control their position, so you could use them to see behind you. But they were also a natural place to change your pace. You could dart forward to catch a closing door, or you could stop to let someone else enter before you. How Ian was able to communicate this information to Alex without making it blindingly obvious that he was a spy, Alex hadn't a clue.

But for now, Alex darted forward to wrench open the door to the shop - to let a women with a double stroller navigate the doorway without getting tangled up in the door. The teenager made such a grand gesture opening the door that he was now facing almost back the way he had come. He could see the Asian man rushing forward; the man couldn't change direction or speed without drawing attention to himself. As the mother shot Alex a grateful, harried look, the boy waved his follower through the doorway.

Alex stood aside and did not look the man directly in the face. He did not want to spur the man into trying something drastic. He hoped the man didn't realize he'd been made. But as the man brushed past, Alex's blood ran cold. Peeking out from beneath the sleeve of the man's t-shirt, he could see the edge of a red, circular tattoo. His mind flashed back to the Big Circle tattoo he had seen on the "security guard" at Wimbledon. They were supposed to leave me alone! MI6 said they had a deal!

Alex let the door swing shut, and continued down the street the way he had been traveling. He moved as quickly as he could without appearing to flee. As he reached the corner, he turned up the hill away from the waterfront. He pulled out his phone and dialed McDeere. After two rings, the agent picked up. "This is Alex," he hissed, "I'm being followed. I think he's from the Big Circle triad. You know, from Wimbledon."

"Triad? Wimbledon?"

"Never mind. Just know that they tried to kill me twice, and were supposedly bought off by MI6." The teen glanced behind him, but still did not see the man who had been following.

"OK, I've got your location. I can have a team there in... 15 minutes. Stall him."

"I thought you said my phone couldn't be tracked?" Alex replied indignantly.

The agent replied calmly, "I said the bad guys couldn't track it."

"Whatever. I've got to go. It's probably best if he doesn't know I've contacted anyone." With that, Alex shoved his phone back in his pocket. He continued to power up the hill, putting some distance between himself and where he had last seen his tail. As the crowds thinned out, he could pick up his pace a bit without obviously barreling through people. He was glad he had kept up his fitness training, as the uphill climb was not cutting into his wind at all.

The teen moved to cross the street, and used the opportunity to glance down the hill. The man was still following him, but didn't appear to be rushing to close the gap. Perhaps I'm being flushed into a trap?, the former spy thought. This, in turn, made him realize that as he moved up the hill and away from the crowds, he might eventually find himself in an area where he could be attacked unobserved. He turned at the next corner, thinking to work his way back to the heavier pedestrian traffic without obviously backtracking.

This proved to be a mistake. The block was lined with warehouses with few doorways; many of the windows were painted over. There were almost no pedestrians in sight along this canyon of buildings. Alex picked up the pace while he was out of sight of the Asian man. After a bit, he forced himself to slow down. He didn't want to appear to be suspicious. His heart was beating faster than normal, and his breath was coming in short gasps. He realized that he was on the verge of panic, and deliberately calmed himself.

From the other direction, three boys a couple of years younger than Alex were approaching. With ripped jeans and hoodies, they were definitely going for the skater look. In fact, one of them was carrying a skateboard. Alex felt a prickly sensation in the center of his back - he could imagine the man behind him taking aim. As he moved towards the building to skirt the group, Alex tried to use the opportunity to peek behind him. He ducked his head and turned - and looked straight into the eyes of the man fifteen yards behind him. He froze for a moment, and saw the realization blossom on the man's face that Alex was aware he was being trailed. Bugger this, thought the teen. He darted forward and grabbed the skateboard from the loose grip of its owner. Great, now I'm a serial skateboard thief, he thought as he raced forward.

"Hey, f-wad!" shouted the board's owner. The youths had barely started after Alex when the man plowed through the group. Alex slapped the board down on the street and after a couple of driving thrusts, planted his feet and banked into a turn down the hill at the next corner. He was lucky- the road had been repaved sometime in the last year. He could bomb down the hill, gathering speed with each passing second. He tried to bleed off a little speed with some slalom maneuvers, but he was soon going quite fast. If he tried to jump off now, "road rash" was a likely outcome at best. Without a helmet, more serious injuries were a definite possibility. And he couldn't afford to be incapacitated at all.

He was preparing to flair out to bleed off some speed, when he saw an alternate solution. The next intersection had a pedestrian crossing timer, counting down the seconds until the light changed. He had plenty of time to reach the intersection, but that isn't what had caught his attention. On the other side of the intersection was a landscaping truck with its tailgate hanging open. More importantly, the truck was full of mulch.

Alex picked his line and headed for the truckbed. As he entered the intersection, Alex saw that there was a cable car channel running across the intersection. If he caught a wheel... At last moment, he performed an ollie to clear the channel. As he landed the maneuver, he immediately launched himself into the truck. Hummph!

He was winded, but everything was still attached, so he felt lucky. He jumped down from the truck as a couple of people ran to see if he was alright. He took a moment to unzip his jacket and let some of the mulch fall to the street. He glanced up and down the avenue. There's never a cable car when you need one. He brushed some more mulch off his shirt as he tried to decide what to do. His hand encountered the scarf he had brought for Sabina. He looked at the cable channel where he could hear the hum of the cable as it moved continuously beneath the surface of the seat. A plan came together.

He grabbed the skateboard from where it had become wedged under the truck's tire. He took the superball he had bought earlier and tied it into one corner of the scarf. Though the traffic light had turned green, the cars had not started to move, as the drivers were rubbernecking - trying to see whether Alex was OK. The teen searched for the man who had been following him, and immediately spotted him a couple of blocks up the hill. He had stopped and was facing up the hill at the moment. He's flagging down a car! He's not alone!

Alex ran into the street with the scarf in this hand and the board under his arm. This better work, he thought. He stopped, straddling the cable car channel and looked down at the cable hurtling along beneath his feet. He flung the ball down and bounced it off the bottom of the channel. With the scarf now looped around the cable, he wrapped the ends of the scarf around his hands, stepped on to the board, and then pulled back on the scarf.

If he hadn't wrapped the scarf around his hands, Alex was sure it would have been ripped from his grasp. As it was, he nearly lost the board. In his imagination, he had pictured applying more or less pressure with the scarf in order to control his speed. But in actuality, the braided cable was nowhere near smooth enough for that kind of subtle control. Loose strands had dug into the scarf and were not going to let go easily. This was a one-time ticket. Alex would have to choose his exit wisely.

Cable cars are not particularly speedy. In a straight race, the car that was now tailing him should have been able to catch up easily. But the teenager had quickly amassed an entourage. Sure, in the first few moments on this crazy ride, a couple of aggressive drivers accelerated past him to get clear of the idiot on the skateboard. But it didn't take long to generate a rolling roadblock of conservative drivers who didn't want to be featured on the evening news for running over a kid.

After a couple of minutes of dodging potholes, he realized he was pushing his luck. He also realized he recognized the area he was now in. When Alex had visited over the Easter holiday, the Pleasures had taken him for sushi in a part of the city known as Japantown. Alex unwrapped the scarf from around his hands and released it as he hit a slight rise. This reduced his speed enough that he could jump of the board and hit the ground running with little risk of stumbling. He took one last look at the scarf disappearing down the street, one end flapping in the wind, the other bouncing down the street. He wondered whether he would get credit for buying the gift if he hadn't been able to give it to his girlfriend. He might try the a-funny-thing-happened-while-I-was-bringing-home-your-gift approach, but he guessed that would depend on how this whole thing worked out. He had to keep moving.

He had hoped to find the area packed with tourists. But, besides for a handful of souvenir shops, Japantown was primarily a restaurant district. As it was not yet lunchtime, there weren't as many pedestrians as he had expected. He glanced over his shoulder. Seeing no sign of pursuit, he dodged into the next restaurant he came to.

He entered a poorly-lit room with a hostess station. The room was currently deserted. There were two rooms off of this one. From the sounds coming from the right, that was the dining room - currently being prepped for lunch service. Looking through the doorway to the left, Alex could see a goldfish pond, a statue of Buddha, and a rather sad looking tree that seemed to be barely propped up by the bamboo support it was lashed to. He imagined that if went around the screen at the other side of the koi pond, he would find a bar. He thought about going into the dining room, but he didn't want to involve any civilians if he could avoid it. Perhaps I could crouch behind Buddha...


When the traffic suddenly cleared, the man realized the subject had probably abandoned his unorthodox vehicle. "Let me out here. Circle to the north until you hear from me." He could still salvage this mission...

He got out of the car and surveyed the thin crowd. There was nothing about the pattern of movement that told him where his quarry had gone. He had a moment of doubt, but then he spotted a skateboard in the gutter. He had no way of knowing that it was the same board, but the chances that someone else had coincidentally abandoned one here seemed slight. He moved forward, looking from side to side for anything out of the ordinary.

He looked down, and a thin smile formed. On the ground was a subtle trail of mulch leading into Japantown. Within half a block, the trail ended at a restaurant. He pulled out his phone and called the man in the car. The car was already several blocks north of here and would take some time circling back. He gave him the address. Now he had a choice- wait for the other man to arrive and cover the back of the restaurant, or proceed on his own... He was damned if he was going to let that little runt rabbit out the back of the place while he was cooling his heels out front. He pushed upon the door.

The trail of mulch led off to the left, toward a statue of Buddha. The man moved forward confidently. He stopped abruptly as Alex pivoted out from behind the tree. "What do you want with me?"

"I don't want to hurt you kid. We just want to ask you a few questions."

Alex gave him a pained, fake smile. "It's never a good sign when someone starts a conversation with 'I don't want to hurt you'. I'm thinking that's a pretty big tell." The teen smirked. "And I have a pretty good idea what kind of questions you are going to ask. I can save us both a lot of time by giving you the answers now: 'Yes, that hurts.'"

The man moved forward to grab the youth. Alex lifted his foot as he brought up the bamboo stick he had been holding against his leg. The tree sprang up into the man's face, causing him to rear back instinctively to protect his eyes. At that instant, Alex jabbed him in the solar plexus with the staff and the man curled forward. The teen then delivered a roundhouse kick that snapped the man's head to the side, but otherwise did not seem to affect him. A second roundhouse seemed to do the trick, as the man's eyes rolled up into his head. For good measure, Alex delivered a palm strike to the chest, and the man toppled back into the fish pond.

Alex checked that the man's face was above the waterline, then quickly frisked him. He came up with a handgun of a model he was not familiar with from a shoulder holster. Overconfident much? Or perhaps he had been ordered not to make a scene. I guess the parade down the cable car route probably blew that plan out of the water.

He took a moment to familiarize himself with the weapon, checking the magazine and the position of the safety. He moved into position behind the statue where he could cover the doorway while still have some protection. He settled in, calming his breathing.

He didn't have long to wait. Two men moved into the room in flanking positions on the entrance, guns drawn. In the dim lighting, they did not immediately spot the boy. Alex was deciding what to do when Frank and Helena entered the room. He remembered his Killing House training and spoke in a clear, firm voice: "Clear! Frank, Helena." He held the gun pointing at the ceiling with his palm open.

Frank quickly replied, "Clear!" He moved towards the teen. "Alex! Are you alright?" He then realized the implications that Alex was armed. "Where'd you get the gun?"

"I got it off the bad guy."

"Where is he now?"

"In the next room, playing koi."


A/N: Every Alex Rider adventure needs one completely unlikely mode of transportation - so there you go! San Francisco is known for its cable cars, but Alex would never merely hop on a passing car. Nope, not him.

I have no idea how long it would take to get from Fisherman's Wharf to Japantown. But as the San Francisco naval base has been shut down for decades, I have already established that this does not take place in our universe. So it takes however long I say it does. My apologies to anyone with a deep love of the city in our universe. I'm sure the abuses will continue. It could be worse; in an earlier draft, I had Alex taking the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) from one part of the city to another.

Jim Spriggs - You caught me. I had very little hope that "shag you" was actually a British expression, but I rationalized it so: Billy had just referred to Alex as an "international boy of mystery". This was supposed to be a reference to the Austin Powers movies (e.g., The Spy Who Shagged Me). This would have hit a little too close to home for Alex. The mangled idiom and the exaggerated accent were supposed to be sardonic. I didn't think a lame fifteen-year-old culture reference was worth a lot of exposition, so I made do with the bit about the accent. It's sort of a subtle dig at stupid Americans (like myself). Take some bad writing, add a little ironic spackle, and it's all good!