The prison was, as Wolf had said, a fortress. The hallways were barren and white. They were lined with security cameras that had absolutely no blind spots and were next to impossible to hack, owing to the fact that they had no wires. Instead, the pictures were transmitted through a state of the art complex hard drive. The doors only opened when they were activated by a code on the badge worn by each of the guards. This code had to be preprogrammed and could only be used at the particularly time of day for which it was set.
This was why Radley Whiteman should have found it unusual when at two after nine his replacement guard still hadn't arrived. Even two minutes late was inexcusable in the MI6 profession. Radley stretched and yawned tiredly, arching his back as he checked his watch for the eighth time in the past ten minutes. He was eager to be home. He had joined MI6 expecting to participate in oversea activity and espionage, and instead found himself guarding a harmless teenager and a crazy twenty-some year old.
He smirked, remembered the rumors that had circulated about the screaming fit between the American and Alan Blunt. Even though office 1605 was entirely soundproof, word had somehow filtered out about the encounter. It would have become a huge office joke, with plenty of email discussions to follow, had it not been for the fact that MI6 monitored all it's member's emails, and that they would have eventually ended up on the desk of Blunt himself.
Radley was so caught up in his own thoughts that he jumped suddenly when a figure appeared beside him. He breathed an audible sigh a relief when it was only the replacement guard.
"Geesh, mate, you scared me!" Radley shook his head, looking at the man suspiciously. He was reassured by a pleasant smile.
"Perhaps, then, it is a good thing that your shift it over," The guard said, causing Radley to chuckle.
"Yeah, you got that right. God this place is dull. Well, standard MI6 procedure...I need your name, date of birth, section number and code," Each guard was required to memorize the information of their replacement. It kept things secretive and safe.
"Is that entirely necessary? We both know there is no way I could have made it through the door without a code on." The guard pleaded, but Radley remained where he stood.
"I'm afraid it is necessary. You know the drill," Radley insisted.
"Well, that is unfortunate." The guard's friendly appearance melted away and his voice instantly becoming cool and emotionless.
It was at this point that MI6 made their second mistake. Not only did they allow for an override code on the doors in case of an emergency (something the replacement guard had taken full advantage of) the cameras in the hallway recorded only images. They were not equipped for audio surveillance. To the people watching the visual that the cameras recorded, it appeared as though Radley had fainted. The guard caught him and gestured urgently to the nearest camera, pointing to the fallen agent. A few moments later, security guards and paramedics were racing down the hallway. They found the replacement guard kneeling over Radley who was slumped up against the wall.
"What happened?" The paramedic asked.
"I don't know, he said he wasn't feeling well and then he fainted." The guard explained casually. Upon closer inspection, MI6 would have found a heavy sedative in the man's blood stream, one that was also known to cause fevers. The paramedic, however, instantly confirmed the guard's story.
"Yeah, he feels like he has a pretty high temperature. We'll take him to the infirmary," They hoisted Radley up onto a stretcher and began wheeling him down the long white hallway. From where he stood up against the wall, the guard watched the paramedics and security personnel cautiously as they left. It was the most crucial point in his rescue mission, but it was too early to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Hey, you!" One of the security guards suddenly remembered the replacement guard and spun around, shouting.
"Yes, Sir?" He answered carefully.
"Get back to your post! You've left the cell completely unguarded!" The man yelled. The guard gladly obliged.
Yassen Gregorovich waited until the men had left before reaching into his pocket to double check that he had totally concealed the small, poisonous dart. The first part of his plan had gone perfectly, but it was too early for mental congratulations. The assassin jammed his hands into his pockets and felt the key that he had stolen from Radley while he lay passed out on the floor.
He checked his watch and was glad to see that he was right on schedule. The latex mask was uncomfortable and the smell was similar to that of a rubber tire. Yassen resisted the urge to itch his nose.
For another ten minutes he stood outside the door. He wondered if Alex had found his message, or if they had anyway of knowing what time it was. Luck was on his side, and at nine thirty a loud knock followed by shouting could be heard from within the cell.
Yassen drew out the stolen key and fitted it into the lock. The door swung partially open to reveal Jack and Alex. Jack look at him carefully, squinting one eye as though trying to see through the mask. Alex, on the other hand, was more experienced and acted like nothing was wrong.
"Our toilet's broken..." He pointed toward the chemical toilet in all the contempt and disgust that a teenager could muster.
"I'll need to contact my superiors about getting it fixed, I'm afraid I can't do anything about it at the moment." Yassen responded. While they spoke he quickly got to work disabling the bug that was in place under the mattress in the corner of the room. To the MI6 agents, he was now invisible. He was unable to be seen from the outside or heard from the inside. It would appear as though he simply stopped speaking. He knew he only had mere seconds before they became suspicious, and he worked quickly. He handed Jack an envelope and Alex a tube of an odd looking silver substance.
"This will dissolve through the wall. You will end up in corridor with no surveillance. There should be no guards. Take the first left and then the third right and you will reach a door. Open it and you'll find yourself in the middle of London. Return to your house and open the envelope, it will give you further instructions." Yassen spoke quickly and Alex nodded. He turned to leave when he felt a tug on his shirt. He whirled around to find Jack clutching at his sleeve with long pale fingers.
"What are you doing, Yassen?" Jack bit her lip worriedly.
"Helping you get away," He gave her the first real smile she had ever seen, "So shut up and get moving."
It was so unlike Yassen that Jack wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She settled for pulling him down to her height and pressing her lips up against his. After a few seconds, he roughly broke away and casually returned into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.
Alex ignored them and got to work cutting a small hole in the wall. Jack stood helplessly off the side as she waited for him to finish. Eventually the wall fell through (Alex noted that it was a solid meter of hard steel) and he clambered quickly through the hole. He stood impatiently on the other side, taking stock of his surroundings as he waited for Jack to follow. Unfortunately, Jack was having more trouble pulling herself through the hole. Alex bent over and clutched at her wrists, trying to drag her through the wall.
"Ouch! Alex, shit this hurts!" Jack complained. Alex gave up tugging and tried to help her wriggle through.
"Sorry, Jack, I got through fine," Alex shrugged and Jack glared up at him furiously.
"Yes, well, if you haven't noticed, girls have slightly bigger hips than boys do, Alex" Jack swore as she finally managed to pull herself through, nearly loosing her jeans in the processes. Alex had to stifle his laughter as she pulled her jeans back into position and dusted herself off. She tried to fix her hair but Alex snatched her arm and tugged her down the hallway.
"C'mon, we have to hurry," Alex ran, dragging a stumbling Jack behind him. The hallway seemed bare and deserted. There was minimal lighting on the ceiling and old cracked tile on the floor. It was stark contrast to the modern, clean MI6 portion of the building, and Alex assumed that this section must have been used for storage. They turned at the first right and were beginning to round the third left when they ran head first in a large man in a uniform. Alex immediately was on guard, but faltered slightly when he saw who it was.
"Wolf!" He gasped. Jack stood nervously to the side. Wolf seemed indecisive for a moment, but finally he sighed and pointed down the hallway.
"I don't know what the hell you're doing, but you had better get out before I call MI6." Wolf growled and Alex thanked him with a nod, grateful beyond words, as he rushed past.
They went down a staircase and reached an exit labeled 'Janitors and Maintenance only.' Ignoring it, Alex pushed past it and found himself in a side street in the heart of London. It was dark out and Alex decided it was too risky to call a taxi. It was an hour before Jack and Alex finally collapsed onto the couch in their living room. They sat silently for a moment, both engrossed in their own thoughts. Alex was finally the one to break the silence.
"You should probably open the note now in case it says anything important." Alex gestured tiredly towards the envelope that Jack held clutched in her fingers.
"Right," Jack nodded nervously and tore it open carefully. Two slips of paper fell out of the envelope and onto the cushion of the couch, one a letter and the other a visa. Jack picked up the letter first. After a few moments of reading she let out a half choked sob and Alex moved so he was sitting next to her. He placed an arm around her shoulder and read the letter along with her.
---
From the moment Yassen Gregorovich ripped off his latex mask, MI6 had been a flurry of activity.
Alan Blunt was at an important meeting with the Prime Minister, so Mrs Jones received the call. An agent was sent down to examine the cell, but Alex and Jack were long gone by the time they arrive. Barely an hour later, Yassen was shown, handcuffed, into a room, consciously aware of the gun digging into the small of his back. Mrs Jones stood on the other side of the room, regarding him carefully with her beady black eyes as she waited for the guard to step off to the side.
"Malta," Mrs Jones spoke the word and let it linger in the air between them. Yassen was secretly surprised. It certainly wasn't how he had expected the conversation to start. After a while Mrs Jones spoke again, "We should have captured you along with John when we had the chance in Malta, we would have saved ourselves a large amount of trouble."
"Are you referring to Alex Rider?" Yassen spoke levelly. Mrs Jones studied him for a moment.
"I don't understand. If you were going to let them escape, why did you give yourself away?" Mrs Jones paced the room, not breaking her gaze away from Yassen's.
"I did not want to leave Jack and Alex with the only option of fleeing the country." Yassen answered honestly.
"Why? Were you afraid they wouldn't come?" Mrs Jones questioned.
"No, I was afraid they would." Yassen replied. Mrs Jones stopped pacing suddenly, still calmly meeting Yassen's gaze.
"Alex doesn't hate MI6 enough to do something like that," She responded, "You barely know him...him or Miss Starbright."
"I do not want Miss Starbright in any trouble because of this...inconvenience. She has an up to date visa so it appears you will have to find another way to make Alex work for you." Yassen was almost amused by the way that Mrs Jones paled at the mention of the blackmail.
"That was Blunt's idea..." Mrs Jones stopped herself, realized she was justifying her actions to a paid assassin.
"I would be curious to know what the rest of the government thinks of you using a fourteen year old boy." Yassen prodded, but Mrs Jones seemed completely unaffected by his question. She stood with her back facing him and gazed at the wall thoughtfully.
"They know MI6 has some questionable methods. We are always on the lookout for potential talent." Mrs Jones paused, turning to face Yassen, "As far as your question regarding Miss Starbright, I'm afraid you'll have to wait for Blunt to arrive from his meeting. I can, however, assure you that neither of them are in any trouble with the government."
As Mrs Jones and Yassen spoke, Alex and Jack were sitting in their living, surrounded by potato chips and soda bottles as they finished reading Yassen's letter. Jack finally leaned back against the couch and set the letter down on the coffee table with a sigh, placing the visa next to it.
"I'm sorry, Jack." Alex bit his nails (a habit he'd picked up after MI6) as Jack took a particularly long swig of her Coke.
"I am too, Alex." She stretched and then curled up into a ball, dragging a nearby blanket over on top of her. She decided that walking up the steps to her room was far too much effort and that she would sleep on the couch for the night. Alex seemed to come to a similar conclusion and sprawled out on the opposite side of the couch.
"I guess it's for the better though, I'm too tired to leave the country anyway." Alex joked weakly. Jack looked at him in surprise.
"Would you have really left the country? Just so that I could be with Yassen?" Jack asked. Alex shrugged.
"You're the only family I have, Jack, I wouldn't have much of a choice," Alex offered and Jack smiled in thanks.
"Remember earlier on today, oh my, that was today…it feels like week ago, but remember when Yassen and I were talking together?" Jack asked.
"Yeah," Alex responded.
"We were going to break up anyway, you know…" Jack sighed, "It seems kind of silly, if we had only broken up a week earlier we might have avoided all of this."
"A week earlier we were in France playing football and going on eight mile jogs," Alex studied her curiously, "I'm surprised though…I thought you loved him and all?"
"I did," Jack bit her lip in distress and Alex could see her eyes beginning to water, "I loved you more, Alex, and I guess Yassen and I both agreed that this was the only way it could have ended."
Jack choked half way through her sentence and rubbed her arm roughly across her eyes. She still had the same shirt on that she had worn earlier that day. She'd been too tired to change clothes. After an awkward pause, Alex finally broke the silence.
"What?" He snorted in amusement, "Being trapped in a cell for eight hours without food and water? I doubt anyone could have guessed that!" Jack burst into laughter, rubbing her eyes. They were red and swollen from crying.
"Thanks, Alex." She sighed.
The next hour they spent lying on the couch talking about the most useless of things. Tom Harris' new girlfriend, football, films they wanted to see the following week, and Jack's calamari pasta recipe. Eventually their chatter died off and they drifted to sleep on the small couch in living room.
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A/N: The next chapter is the last one…it's going to be an epilogue of sorts. It's a bit of a bittersweet moment for me anyway. I was determined to get this chapter up before I headed off to the beach, so I won't be able to reply to any reviews or update until I get back! Reviews, as always, are much loved! :)