A/N: So… this is rather late, I'm afraid. I'm blaming Ichihime for recommending Saving Conner and getting me addicted to it and all the fics that followed after it. And I'm afraid I have some more bad news – I only have one chapter already written after this, and I'm going on holiday soon, so this will probably be the last update until September. Sorry. Before we get on, though, I want to say thanks for all the recommendations! I'm having a little trouble finding some of the fics because some people didn't leave authors, but I can always ask, right? Now, onto the chapter!

DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.

WARNINGS: Death,

-o-O-o-

It was early when Tulip Jones got the call. She had yet to go home. Twelve hours ago, the body of Ben Daniels had been found – tortured and with a bullet in his skull. That alone would have made it a difficult night but another body of another agent had been found in almost identical condition, minus the shot to the head, had been found on the bottom of the Thames – a group of biology students were studying local ecosystems and had dredged him up.

He wasn't supposed to have anything to do with Daniels' case.

Alan Blunt didn't believe in coincidence, nor did Tulip Jones. Both had worked all night, with a full team of agents, to go over the facts of any agent found dead in London without a known killer. The results were worrying: twelve agents who had been interrogated in a similar fashion, plus five informers and the two new bodies found last night.

And their best and youngest agent had been missing until around five minutes ago.

It was understandable that she was relieved to hear that Alex Rider had been spotted on CCTV. She always had had a soft spot for the boy.

"Send a team of SAS and John Crawley to pick him up," she instructed. "Ensure that paramedics are on hand."

She just hoped that Blunt could be persuaded not to send Alex to investigate the deaths. He'd been out of the field for too long: his training would need refreshing and policy would dictate that they give him a complete psych evaluation, something she doubted Alex would pass at the moment. But Blunt had always been willing to waive the rules when it came to their youngest agent.

She just hoped Alex was okay.

-o-O-o-

They only told him who to kill, everything else was left up to his discretion and he had quickly hit upon the method he preferred. Poison was very, very rarely used as an offensive weapon. It was all too easy for an accident to occur and for the blade, or whatever had been coated in the poison, to cut the wielder – even the most skilled blade master would occasionally have accidents after all. But Alex hadn't gone for a blade, nor had he poisoned his target's food or drink. Instead, he had coated a needle in a poison that would kill within minutes. He would simply accidentally stumble into his target, jab them briefly with the needle while apologising then move on. There was a small chance they'd notice the prick, but in the commotion, the chances were they would brush it off.

He would be at the other end of the street by the time they died, just close enough to make sure they did, and far enough away to waylay suspicion. The authorities would spend hours going through everything the victim had eaten or drunk for the last two days and not find anything, and if the needle mark was noticed, their minds would first spring to vaccinations and drugs. Only once both of those had been ruled out would they work it out.

And it was just one jab of a needle. It didn't feel like murder until they collapsed to the ground and by that point it was too late for him to back out.

His second victim had just fallen still, when he spotted the soldiers at the end of the street.

He should have stayed stationary. He should have tried to bluff his way out. He should have done a lot of things.

But he didn't. Instead, he panicked and ran.

It was depressing how fast they caught him.

-o-O-o-

Mrs Jones looked up from the autopsies of the deceased agents as Crawley entered.

"You found him?" she asked, carefully setting the folders aside.

"We caught him, ma'am," said Crawley, in a slow, deliberate tone of voice.

Mrs Jones raised an eyebrow at the inflection

"There were... problems?" she asked, concerned.

"He tried to run," said Crawley, bluntly. "We caught him and gave him a full-body search. We found these on him."

He tossed a small packet onto the desk. Cautiously, Mrs Jones pulled it towards her and opened it. Inside were a stack of perhaps ten thin silver needles.

"They have each been coated in a poison – a venom of a snake, in point of fact. It would kill a full grown man in anything between thirty seconds and two minutes, depending on their size and point of entry."

Carefully, Mrs Jones re-wrapped the needles.

"I see," she said. "Snake venom... that sounds familiar."

"Three days ago a business man that we were investigating was killed using venom. I have people checking the body for needle marks as we speak."

"You believe that Alex killed him?"

"I do," said Crawley. "And another man died today, moments before we caught Rider. The body is in the autopsy lab already and I have alerted them to the possibility."

Mrs Jones frowned.

"What of his health?" she asked.

"We had the paramedics check him out after we sedated him," admitted Crawley. "He appears to have been whipped, quite severely though not hard enough to cause long lasting damage. His right shoulder is sprained, though we believe that that is from rough treatment during his capture rather than any ordeal he went through before. He has lost a large amount of weight in a short amount of time and has started biting his nails – a habit he did not previously have – at least not the last time we had access to him. I have sent off a sample of his blood for testing, but one of the medics recommended that we have a trained councillor talk to him, if at all possible."

"The shoulder..." said Mrs Jones, with a frown of displeasure.

"The medics believe that it could become a life-long injury if he does not rest it and let it heal properly," said Crawley, quietly. "This is the third time he has injured it severely enough to need medical attention in just six months."

"And did you see any evidence to support his need for a councillor?" asked Mrs Jones, her frown deepening.

"Apart from the weight loss, and biting his nails..." Crawley trailed off, obviously thinking. "In the short amount of time between capture and sedation, he did seem to have... checked out, as it were. And his reaction to seeing us was uncharacteristic at best. Rider is known for never running until the very last moment, instead trying to talk his way out if at all possible. For him to immediately take off..."

"I see," said Mrs Jones. "Thank you, Agent Crawley. You may leave. Please have the results of the blood test forwarded to me upon arrival, along with the autopsy of the man."

"Of course, Mrs Jones," said Crawley, quickly backing out of the office.

Mrs Jones sighed and popped a peppermint into her mouth. It was times like this when she regretted giving up smoking. A cigarette could have really helped right now.

So their best agent had gone rogue, possibly due to a mental disorder. This wasn't good.

She couldn't help but feel they were missing something, though. Something important.

She had already completed her review of the files by the time she realised what it was.

Alex Rider hadn't been the only one kidnapped; what had happened to Wolf?

-o-O-o-

Alex woke up in a cell. It wasn't the same one as last time he had been put in one by MI6, but it may as well have been. The only difference was the position of the screen and the toilet behind it.

Last time he had been here, it wasn't serious. This time it really was and he was man enough to admit he was nervous.

What scared him more than anything was how easy it had been for them to detain him. He knew that he wasn't in the best shape he'd ever been, but he shouldn't have deteriorated so quickly! He'd been eating and sleeping ok, hadn't he?

They'd fed him just before he left and in the room they got two meals a day. Of course he was eating ok. It's not like he was hungry, right now. If he wasn't eating enough, he would be, right?

It was most likely the lack of exercise. Their cell might be more spacious and luxurious than most cells, but it still didn't really have enough room for a proper workout. Maybe he should start practicing his kata to stay in shape. It wouldn't do him or Wolf any good if the opportunity to escape came up but Alex wasn't healthy enough to take it.

Speaking of escape, he really should get out of here. There weren't any obvious escape routes besides the door, which was locked, but someone would have to come in at some point, right? He would simply have to stay alert until they did.

It was just a waiting game from here on out.

-o-O-o-

John Lawson had been working for MI6 for three months. He had yet to be promoted to a field agent, but he knew it was just a matter of time. For now, he was content to work within the building.

He was not, however, overly impressed to be instructed to bring lunch to some brat in the cells. On the other hand, he was a professional and would follow orders without question. He could drop off the latest set of files requested to interrogation afterwards. He had them stuffed under his arm, in actual fact, so that would save him a journey.

Reaching the door to the cell, he deftly manoeuvred his key card into the lock and pushed the door open with his hip.

He never saw the blow that felled him.

-o-O-o-

The man fell to the floor as soon as Alex hit him, the tray crashing to the ground and the files scattering everywhere. It didn't take long to find the key card resting on the floor by the man's hand and he was getting up when his eyes fell on the name embossed on the closest file:

Alex Rider

Eyes widening, he grabbed it and stuffed it under his top, tucked into his belt to stop it from falling out, then quickly fled the room. He wouldn't have long before the guards were upon him.

-o-O-o-

It was evening by the time he had shaken off his pursuers and almost midnight by the time he arrived back at the compound. The guard subtly watching the entrance gave a startled oath as he let Alex in. Moments later Krugar appeared beside him.

"Where the hell have you been, Rider!" hissed the man, grabbing Alex by his arm and dragging him through the corridors. "You're lucky Abana wanted you here to witness the death of your lover or he'd already be dead!"

Alex swore and pulled away. "If Abana touches one hair on his head, I will not rest until he is destroyed."

Krugar snorted. "You could try, but I doubt you would succeed. But the soldier won't die: you did not betray us. Now hush, we are here."

He was pulled through a door to find Abana and Wilson waiting.

"Is he dead?" asked Abana. "Why are you so late?"

"He is," said Alex, looking away. Murderer. "My old employers arrested me for it. It took a while for me to evade them."

"You got caught?" shouted Abana. "Were you followed back here?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" snapped Alex.

A sharp slap from Krugar snapped his head to the side.

"Keep a civil tongue in your head when talking to your elders and betters," said the man calmly. Alex turned to glare at him, but the man seemed unaffected.

"I'll ask again," said Abana. "Were you followed back here?"

"No," said Alex, sullenly. "I lost them an hour before I came back here."

"Good," said Abana. "That just leaves your punishment for getting caught."

Alex's eyes flared in anger - he was not an unruly child to be punished for any misdeed they cared to name! - but he remained silent. It wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter, anyway.

"Wilson," said Abana.

"Sir?"

"Pain appears to mean little to Mr Rider. Perhaps if you were to punish the soldier for his transgressions...?"

Wilson smiled sadistically.

"Don't you dare!" yelled Alex. "If you touch him-!"

He was cut off by another fist to his face, knocking him forward. An arm caught him and pulled him up, pressing him against a firm, unwelcome chest.

"You'll do what?" whispered Wilson, his breath ghosting over Alex's cheek. "Come on, Alex... I dare you."

Alex snarled and wrestled himself free of the mocking embrace.

Wilson laughed.

"Now, are you going to come along quietly?"

"In your dreams," spat Alex.

"No," said Krugar. "In yours."

Alex barely had time to tense before something slammed into the side of his head. Everything went black.

-o-O-o-

A/N: Things aren't looking too good for Wolf, are they? Poor guy. And poor Alex is looking pretty close to a mental breakdown… what do you think it would take to push him over the edge?

Anyway, review, and let me know what you thought!