Warning!

The following chapter contains eventual erotic and sex with minor scenes and may therefore not be appropriate by minors. Although this story is rated M, I recommend it not to be read by 16/17 years old. (What luck that tomorrow is my Birthday: 20th September)

I've warned you, so please don't complain and please leave me a review as Birthday gift ;DD

Chapter 9

We're driving to the little flat where nobody can find us. "Why didn't you kill him? You could have finished it all," Marc says, he doesn't understand.

"Not yet. I want to see him suffer," I explain my true motive. As soon as I don't need him anymore, I plan to kill him as well.

"And how? What if Mrs. Jones protects him, brings him to another city and you can't find him anymore?"

"I have my means to find out, " I respond calmly to which he only sighs. "You think it was a mistake to keep him alive."

"Of course, I think that. You should have killed Alex."

"You have no idea...this is a thing between him and us."

"Then tell me why I am helping you?"

"Because you have always been the spy in MI6? Now it was your chance to show them who you really are," I answer and look at the rainy street. We arrive at the skyscraper where we've found an empty flat.

"They will search you," he warns me when we're inside the staircase, out of the pouring rain outside.

"And they won't find me," I say sharply and start walking upstairs.

"Are you sure?"

"Nobody suspects me hiding directly under their nose," I finally answer and search the key for the door.


"I think she will be hiding directly under our nose," Mr. Blunt declared. He was in a video conference with Mrs. Jones.

"Don't you think she wouldn't risk that?" she asked surprised.

"No, she needs to be close to Alex."

"You don't plan to use him as bait, do you?" she asked and leans back. She already knew the answer.

"It is our only chance to catch her, Tulip. She is a danger for the whole country, USA and UK. Imagine she would enter arms or drug trade. Do you know what damage this psychopathic, little girl can do?" Mr. Blunt answered. He knew much about MI6 and how to use people but not how to interact with them. That was Mrs. Jones task and she hated betraying people like that.

"Send him to another orphanage and school, but still in Washington. The city is big. And make sure that NCIS guys don't intervene anymore. Alex is not their business!" With that words, the director of MI6 special operations division was offline.

She sighed and cursed herself. She looked at the open file on her table and regarded the newest picture of Alexandra for a while. The first time they have met...she remembered how disgusted she was by such a girl.

No pity, no mercy, no emotions. She was a killer machine who didn't know fear or pain. She needed to be eliminated. The end justifies the means. At least, she hoped so.


Alex couldn't believe it. He was allowed to stay in Washington? What evil game was Blunt now playing with him? But when he arrived at the new orphanage and saw the new children he had to live with from now on, he knew it: He was supposed to play the bait. But however, he had told himself to try to fit in and now he would do so. He was nice to the care workers and the other orphans and he was showed his new room where he also met his new roommate, Keith.

"And where are you from?" Keith asked while Alex sorted his clothes into the cupboard.

"Originally from London. My parents died when I was an infant and my uncle died nearly three years ago. So I was given from one orphanage to another."

"Caused trouble?"

"May be a kind euphemism, yes," he said and saw how Keith smiled. "And you?"

"Oh, yeah. Me the same. Just that I was born in New York and directly grew up in one of these nice buildings. I caused a lot of trouble and after I set fire in an old garage, I was brought here to Washington," he answered and leaned back on his bed. "But don't worry. I'll show you everything here. To which school will you go?"

"East High..."

"Me the same, senior year, right?"

Alex nodded to the eighteen-year-old in front of him.

"Yeah, I hope I'll get my exams these times because I'm going to leave the orphanage next April..."


Days passed and Alex was surprised that he has neither been shot nor stabbed not involved in any fight. At night, Keith took him outside to some friends and they gathered on the streets, drank alcohol, sometimes shared some joints and went home around one in the evening, smuggling inside the orphanage through an open window. It wasn't an exciting life and also school was boring, Alex knew the stuff they were doing right now and wasn't very motivated to learn for it.

It wasn't challenging anymore and he enjoyed the simple life of a school kid because he didn't have to fight for his life every day now. He liked being welcomed at school and was proud that he didn't have the 'typical Alex Rider'-stamp on his front head any more. Unfortunately he didn't know that night and day he was being watched.


It was late night in our tiny flat. I was lying on the couch and reading a book Marc has given me. It is interesting although not very realistic. I have had enough time to dream during my time in prison to get away from the real world there but while growing up I've accepted my role as everyone's bitch and started to like it.

After my first killings, the men had started to accept and respect me. I hear footsteps and the door opens. Marc is back. I smile and he puts off his shoes and jacket and walks over to me.

"Any news?" I ask and put the book on the table next to me.

"No, Alex started a new life. Perhaps he wants to give it a new try," he informs.

"Mr. Blunt really wants him to play the bait."

"Well, you have to admit, he's a nice prey, isn't he?" he asks smilingly and sits down above me, staring at my face. I touch his face and he bends down to give me a kiss. His body sinks on mine and I push my breasts against his muscular chest.

Slowly I press my lips on his, we kiss, I taste his breath of peppermint and cigarette. He can be so tender and soft and cruel and strong at the same time. I feel his head, nearly bald but still with dark brown hair (like I said, look up the actor Marc Alaimo, that's how this 'Marc' has to be imagined) and we press our entire bodies on each other.

His hand slides through my hair and I'm covered by his enormous and muscular body. Then, without words, he sits up again and starts to open my black blouse.

His hands glides from my neck down to my tits, he grabs them cruelly and without romantic and that is what I like at him: No respect towards the woman's body, but toward the woman herself.

Then, he opens my bra which takes its time and he throws it with my blouse on the floor. Topless he comes down to me again, kissing my mouth, then my neck and toward my boobs. He licks my nipples which harden for arousal, then kisses my belly and his hands are gliding on my body again.

I close my eyes and remember those guys in prison, hitting, beating me up. In-and-out-game, over and over again, first one, then another, then the next one and so on. Until the guards lock them up again in their cells.

But my cell-comrade is still there, and when the guard is gone, he forces me to come down to his bed and the whole game starts again, with the other inmates watching and shouting and masturbating just with hearing me scream.

Marc is different and that makes him weak...and so strong at the same time. He is opening my trousers and pulling it down my legs. I will have to kill him sooner and later but as long as he pleases my for his own fun, he is still of use.

"Now you," I whisper when his hands had already slipped under my knickers. And I start removing his pullover, his jeans and his panties. Now he is the more naked one and it doesn't take more than five seconds until my pants lie next to us on the floor.

He crawls on me again, his dick already toey. He puts his hand behind my head, pressing me lightly up, towards him and he kisses me again and again, our lips don't separate anymore, we're nearly eating each other, he puts his tongue deep into my mouth and I lick it and his teeth.

Then he goes deeper again, kissing my neck. I push my breasts upwards and my head backwards to enjoy the seventy year old but still so good-looking man pleasing me and himself.

Finally, he gets up from me, but he's still so close to my face. He smiles his evil and lecherous smile at me, he likes having a seventeen year old girl lying under him, I assume I'm the youngest bitch for him for decades.

He fumbles for a condom package lying on the table, finds and opens it.

I take it and put it on his handsome, not very big, but okay-sized penis and he starts moving his pelvis up and down and I push mine toward him, he pushed me on my boobies on the couch and kissing me again, I look at the ceiling, enjoying the moment, feeling the arousal every time his body goes down and I feel how I suddenly stop caring about Alex, about MI6 although those thoughts are still in my mind, but don't appear important anymore.

I open my mouth to breathe enough and he looks up, too, enjoying while he gets faster and faster and then pushed me and I push my body at him, my tiny tits against his naked chest, his pelvis against my pelvis and then we both sink down on the couch again, he lying on me, I have my arms around his back, he lies his head next to my neck and starts slowly kissing my cheek and then rather licking my face. I smile and look at the ceiling, close my eyes and dream.

I don't know how much time is passing but I don't care. Then, he sits up on me again and his dark eyes look down at me. I smile at him and he puts the condom back into the open package. I sit up as well and fondle his nearly bald head. He touches my cheek and we understand each other without words.

"Your round?" I ask, like the day before yesterday. Yesterday he had wanted, too but I denied. Sex makes weak, in my opinion, it makes one being bound to someone else. That's the reason why I forbid myself to feel more than just happiness and being pleased, I don't want emotions, they're too dangerous.

He nods and I bend down toward his pelvis. I rubble his penis first and then start to give him head. He breathes heavily, throwing his head back, staring at the ceiling and closing his eyes for not screaming out in arousal. Finally, after an eternity, he sinks down again and we lie, this time I on him, on the couch which is too small to lie next to each other.

My head is placed on his enormous and muscular chest and I have my eyes closed, dreaming about several methods to kill both Marc and Alex. I think, I should kill Marc within the next few days before I finish off my half-brother because after doing so, I assume I'll have to run for it very fast and can't use a spy like him.

"Shouldn't we go to bed?" I propose then, I want to sleep a bit, I haven't dozen for nearly 48 hours now.

He moans and pushes me away from him. "I'm gonna chase the dragon first," he says and searches his clothes and dresses again. He gives me a short kiss before he disappears out of the room to go outside.

I sigh and pick up my clothes. I bring them to the bedroom and search my boxer-shorts and t-shirt which I use for sleeping.

After McCain had helped me escaping from prison, he had given me all kinds of new clothes and things like a gun and some knifes which I could really use. With his favourite sword, a collector's piece, he had been finally found being stabbed, a little time before I had expected it, but it didn't matter.

I put the sleeping clothes on and go into bed. Perhaps he wants another fuck when he comes back, I think and if so, I can kill him tonight, then I don't need anymore because I plan to encounter my sibling again, exactly one week after our first encounter.

Are you still expecting me, Alex?

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