It was early in the evening and James was working on his schoolwork, he had a mountains of coursework to complete his baccalaureate in his last year at school. Since St. Jude's, he'd studied at the local Gymnasium in Dusseldorf, living at home with his father. Dieter Sprintz had changed his work arrangements to be a hands on parent, dramatically cutting his work load, hiring three talented youngsters to act as assistants. He was richer than ever, but had salvaged his family. His son had been a poor and disruptive student when he had been sent to Point Blanc. The boy who had returned with stories of being held prisoner and being beaten. Young James had nearly been killed and replaced by a clone. James had reacted to being immediately sent to another boarding school by skipping class, running wild, going to parties, stealing and becoming a drug addict and alcoholic. The rehab and therapy at St. Jude's had grounded James, cleaned him up and given him his first close friendship with another young kidnapping victim. The two were as close as brothers in many ways.

The dark haired seventeen year old liked the strange phone calls from his closest friend Alex, who also sent humorous postcards and occasional emails. Alex had spent most of this year moving about, talking of strange places and his new boyfriend. Last week he'd been in Paris but had gone off again. James hoped he'd not gone back to Sergei. The russian sounded like a controlling jerk. James had a suspicion that Alex had no real idea of how to relate to people, his friend's childhood was even more perverse and abnormal than James' own open warfare between his parents.

James' mobile phone rang. The caller proved to be an inebriated Alex Rider, ranting on the end of the phone. "Jamie, Jamie is that you? Please say its you. Fuck! This better not be a fucking messaging service."

"Its Ok, Lex. Its me, where are you?" James was seriously concerned about his friend.

"Train Station in Dusseldorf. I thought I come and catch up. I figured its ages since I saw you. Its been ages, hasn't it. I've been around the world since I last saw you. Russia, China and the the Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea. I never ever want to go there ever again." There was a long pause as Alex collected his thoughts, before dropping his bomb shell, "I've broken up with Sergei. He made me feel like a whore. I'm not a whore. I'm just confused sometimes."

"Alex hang on I need to get Dad, he'll send a car for you. Are you drunk?"

"As a skunk. Just like when I was 14. Did I tell you about Grey? He showed me how to survive on the streets, not that I was with him long. I like Grey."

"Sure you told me about Grey." James walked into his dad's office and let Alex ramble on the phone. "Dad, Alex is at Dusseldorf Train Station. I think he's drunk. He's rambling. Like manic rambling. He's not been this bad since St. Jude's. He needs help."

Dieter was on the phone and a car and two body guards were on there way.

Dieter and James Sprintz watched the two body guards practically dragged a very drunk Alex Rider into their house. Alex was giggling and seemed oblivious to anyone else. Dieter instructed the guards to deposit the boy in the guest room for him to sleep off his bender. Dieter turned his attention to his son, who looked worried. "Go to bed James. There's nothing we can do at the moment. Alex is OK, just inebriated. I'm sure he'll regret it in the morning."

"Yeah, Alex described his hangover from the last time he went on a bender." James huffed and then turned to his father and wished him a good night. James was always happy to see Alex, but he had never seen him so out of control before. Whatever had upset Alex had caused him to go off the deep end in spectacular fashion.

Dieter retreated to the kitchen. He poured a glass of fruit juice, but he really wanted a large cognac. However all the alcohol in the house was locked in the wine cellar and Dieter had a rule not to drink unless entertaining, not that he did that much.

Gunter, his chief of security, came in several minutes later. "We have put Mr. Rider to bed. He seems to be sleeping, but I've left Karl in to make sure he's OK tonight. Karl did a search of Mr. Rider and his belongings." At this point Gunther deposited the contraband, three foil wrapped packets and a small plastic bag of white powder on the kitchen counter top. All other questionable items had also been removed to a safer place.

Dieter just stared at the items, suddenly transported back to the two summers previously when his son had been dragged home drunk and high. "Whats in the foil?" asked Dieter. The German financier had recognised the cocaine.

"Heroin for smoking."

"Shit!" stated Dieter. This was much worse than he suspected. Heroin was dangerous and deadly.

Alex sat bolt upright and stared at his surroundings, he was still in the clothes he had dressed in yesterday, but stank of stale cigarette smoke and cheap vodka. Disorientated and alert before realising that it was semi familiar, the guest room at his friend Jamie's house. The sparse modern furnishings reflected the taste of Dieter Sprintz. Alex had stayed at two of the man's homes. He was in Germany, Dusseldorf. Alex had left Yassen and gotten on the first train like flipping a coin, east or west, deciding on visting his good friend James in Germany rather than going back to Paris.

Alex had drunk steadily on the train, the alcohol drowning his emptiness. Alex needed to talk to someone. James would listen and not judge, well he'd state Alex had been a fool over Sergei and would then tell him the whole point of fucking up big time was not getting caught. Alex saw his bag had been unpacked. In a rush Alex checked his coat and swore in russian, either Yassen or Dieter had found and most likely destroyed his stash of highly illegal substances. A small enough amount to be for personal use only. Alex then checked the rest of his stuff. No cigarettes, no booze, no pen knife and no razors. Dieter and his staff were taking no chances with him.

Alex went into the bathroom ignoring his reflection in the large mirror. Alex retreated into a very hot shower and tried to drown his sorrows. Alex was stirred from his position sat in the base of the shower, his head in hands by James asking if he was alright.

"I'm a stupid fool." stated Alex as he stood up and switched off the shower.

"Over this Rushkov dude or the massive amounts of drink and drugs you've been taking?" James said nonchalantly.

"What?" was all Alex could say as he grabbed the towel.

"You've been in the papers recently. Rushkov's been portrayed as a pedophile. Well, he's fifty five and dating a seventeen year old mentally unstable child. Yeah Paris Match called you a broken child. Must have been some act you were putting on at that Party in Nice. You are not a child at fifteen so you are definitely not one now. I do not doubt the disturbed bit though. Then last week they published photos of you snorting coke in some club in Paris. You're an asshole Rider. Nice way of letting everyone know you were in trouble."

James left Alex to dress and Alex picked up the phone beside the bed, already knowing that all phonecalls were monitored by Dieter's staff.

"Umm, Hi can you put me through to Major Pritchard?.. Oh yeah its Alex Rider, is he free to talk?" With a short pause, Alex was connected to the Army Shrink.

"Hello Alex." Dr. Pritchard had been passed a note by Wolf to sort Alex out, only for the man to be unable to contact Alex. His mobile was dead. Edward Pleasure had no idea where he was. Neither did the spooks in London.

"Hi Doc, any advice for digging myself out of the situation I'm in?"

"What situation is that?" The psychiatrist disliked third hand information. It was always best to get information from the horse's mouth. He just hoped Alex was truthful.

"I think I might have a problem?" Alex cringed at the avoidance tactics he was using. Denial and avoidance were always easier on the phone. "I've been in a bit of a shitty relationship. Its taken three friends to tell me this for me to listen to their sage advice. My boyfriend treated me like a whore. Then again, I've been a bit stupid in Paris." A bit more like completely bonkers, but it wasn't like Alex had not used before. He'd dabbled since Petrus, never regularly, just when the opportunity arose.

"Define stupid, Cub."

"Partying hard... drinking... drugs." Alex paused and then added "Cocaine and heroin. I really like heroin. I reminds me of the shit Yassen used on me. I sleep, total blackness. Its amazing."

"Do you have an addiction problem?"

"Well, Dieter's taken all my shit, so I guess as soon as I show my face I'll be told to fuck off. Rule No. 1 in the Sprintz household is no drugs. Fuck it doc, I've screwed my friendship with James over a pile of shit."

"Do you need a fix?"

"I need a fag. A drink wouldn't go amiss. A fix no. At the moment I feel like taking a really long run. Running helps me think and get my head straight." Alex rubbed his hand down his face and in a small quiet voice said "I think I need a few days talking over stuff. I can't keep ringing you Doc. I need a home. The one thing I don't have. Sergei offered me a home but the strings attached were just crap. Everything was based on his schedule. My wants and needs meant nothing."

"I think you need to talk as well. Talk to Dieter and James. Listen to them. Dieter will not just throw you out. You have to explain how you got to this point. If you have withdrawal get into rehab. No more running Alex."

"Sure thing doc." Alex felt a bit more grounded. He'd been monumentally stupid and had been caught out. Mainly because he forgot about the stash, not needing it when he was with Yasha. He regretted getting out of his head drunk on the train, but he was sure he was not in withdrawal. He just had a good hangover. A smoke would be just the thing at the moment, he was back up to smoking nearly constantly. He'd have to make do with a long run to start thinking straight. He'd need to be on form to worm his way back into James' and Dieter's good graces.