A/N: I know this is like an overused plot, but I really, really wanted to write one of my own. Credits to the first person who put this type of story up. The rest is totally me… it was a plot bunny, OKAY?

Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider.

Reunions

Alex tentatively prodded his letters with a metal stick, the length of a ruler. He was relieved when the letters didn't explode in his face. After what happened last time, he would never look at letters the same way again.

When Alex deemed the letters safe, he reached out to them, sorting through the letters that were actually important. The rest, he threw in a bin by his desk. He pressed a button on the underbelly of his desk and fwoosh! Flames licked at the papers in the bin.

Satisfied, he shuffled through the rest of his letters. He stopped at the third letter in the pile.

Reunion for the Class of 2006!

Location: Brookland Comprehensive

Time: 12:30 PM-6:30 PM

Date: May 13th

Please RSVP at ***-***-****

Alex stared at the paper, chewing his lip slightly. After nine action packed years, he was longing for some normalcy in his life. He debated internally for another minute.

He picked up the phone.

Alex*Rider*Alex*Rider

Alex arrived promptly at Brookland at 5:30. Judging by the empty parking lot, everyone was still filtering in. He leaned against his Aston Martin, flicking on his sunglasses, feeling very cool. He was wearing a plain military-green t-shirt and khaki pants. Around his neck and tucked into his shirt hung his two dog tags, provided by the SAS. He smirked a little at the thought of his old SAS unit, probably stuck in Brecon Beacons, running the assault course. Poor little buggers.

"Alex?"

Alex turned, half surprised at the familiar voice. Tom stood a couple steps away, gaping at him. He looked the same as he did in school: black spiked hair and blue eyed – still short.

"Tom." Alex greeted, grinning a little. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head.

Tom gaped for a second more before striding over to him and slapping Alex on his arm, "What the hell, man? I thought you'd died!"

"Not dying is a talent," Alex responded dryly.

Tom rolled his eyes and went for a man-hug, laughing a bit, "You still work at the Bank?"

Alex patted his car proudly, "How else do you think I got this baby?"

"I was under the impression that you stole it." Tom raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms.

Alex laughed and motioned for them to walk towards the grey building, "Nah. The Bank pays well."

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets, "I'll say."

They sunk into an uncomfortable silence as they walked into the building. Signs motioned them towards the cafeteria.

"I forgot how much I hated this place." Tom moaned mournfully, staring at a section of the wall that had been drawn on. Alex looked closer, grinning as he saw a heart with initials scribbled into it: TH + EM.

They made their way to the cafeteria. By that time, most of the people had arrived and were talking in clusters. They picked up their name tags and wandered throughout the crowds.

"Tom!" Alex tensed as a hand came too close for his liking, "Alex! I haven't seen you for such a long time! Have you stopped getting sick?"

It was a guy from their football team, though Alex didn't remember his name. He put on a false smile, "Nice to see you again. Turns out that I had cancer, which is why I was always getting sick. It's okay now – complete remission."

The guy grinned enthusiastically, "That's great!" He turned to Tom, "Hey, a couple of the guys wanted to talk to you."

Both Tom and the guy shot apologetic glances at Alex, who waved a dismissive arm at them, "Go on."

Alex was left standing alone at a corner of the cafeteria, leaning comfortable against the wall.

He tensed as his phone vibrated violently against his leg in his pocket. He pulled out his sleek, black phone, eyes narrowed. MI6

"Yes?" Alex growled lowly into the speaker.

"Alex, I know this is a bad time, but-"

"Damn right it is," Alex snapped, making sure no one would overhear it, "I'll come down to the bank later."

"This concerns the safety of everyone at your reunion." Mrs. Jones' voice was urgent. She was stressed. Alex heard the crinkling of a wrapper, presumably from her peppermints.

"What's happening?"

Mrs. Jones sighed, "They're coming to get revenge on you. Somehow, they've got your location. We intercepted a message from Council Z to one of their teams. They've located you and have five agents scouting the area. Once they get the signal, they're coming in."

Alex counted the exits to the cafeteria. Four exits. Five agents, "They're getting cocky."

"Stay put, Alex," Mrs. Jones sounded annoyed now, "We have our agents trying to find the Council Z members and two SAS teams are on their way."

"K-Unit?" Alex asked, a smiled playing at his lips.

"Yes," she responded, "Tell me, Agent. How do you always get into these situations?"

Alex grinned at his phone, "Pure luck, Tulip." And he hung up.

"That sounded serious." It was Tom and the football team.

Alex shrugged, "It was. My boss just wanted to clear a couple things up with my work schedule."

"You got a job?" This time, Alex recognized who the speaker was. He wasn't part of the football team. Instead, he stood to the side, smirking viciously. Kyle Waters. Resident bully. Alex had hoped he had matured over the last years, but judging by his expression, he hadn't.

Alex crossed his arms, "Yes."

Kyle's expression was mocking, "Who would accept a druggie like you?"

"Hey- bugger off!" Tom pushed forward angrily, "Alex will always be better than the likes of you."

"Standing up for the loser again?" Kyle straightened his white shirt with an aura of sophistication, "You're choosing the wrong side."

Tom opened his mouth angrily, but Alex stopped him, "It's alright, Tom," he turned to Kyle, "and I work as a bank manager."

"A bank manager?" Someone asked, deep within the throng of footballers, "I thought you'd go for something more… exciting."

Alex raised his eyebrows at the direction of the voice. His phone buzzed again in his hand. He answered it with a sharp, "Rider."

"We've captured one of the agents. During interrogation, he cracked his cyanide tooth and died. You've still got four agents on your heels. If you do encounter them, I want at least one alive."

"Won't they just take a pill?" He questioned, trying to be vague.

Mrs. Jones was silent for a moment, "As long as it doesn't endanger the civilians, try to bring an agent back."

"Right. Thanks, Tuls." Alex hung up, "I've got to go. Work is calling…"

"But you've only been here for an hour!" Tom protested.

Alex began to walk to one of the exits, "I'll see you guys in ten years!" He waved, before turning and weaving his way through the crowd.

Bang! Bangbang!

"EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND!"

Screams erupted everywhere. Bodies fell over, clambering over each other. Alex dropped down to the ground, blending in with the rest of the adults.

"SHUT UP!"

A hush swept over the former students of Brookland. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Tom motioning imperceptibly to him. Alex nodded slightly, his hand creeping to where his gun rested on his hip.

"Eric Johnson. Get up and face us like a man."

Alex didn't outwardly show it, but he tensed. Carefully, he peered upwards. Four men, dressed in all black and carrying machine guns. Three of the men made their way to the exits. Alex could just pop up and pick them off…

"Eric…" The man drew out the name, "Eric Johnson… Rider… Alex… Alex Rider."

"I knew it!" Kyle hissed from behind him, "He's a bloody criminal!"

"Get up, or people are going to start dying."

Alex stood, decision made. His hands were ready to shoot to his waist when he needed his gun. Because they were carrying their machine guns, they wouldn't have enough time to get their guns up to shoot him.

"You." The man growled, "You coward."

Alex smirked, "I've been many things. I've been called many things. But never a coward."

"Never a coward?" The man snarled, "You ran away from us! You attacked us using poison, then ran!"

Alex eyed the man wearily, "I take it that you lost someone special in the attack?"

The man had clearly lost his marbles. He waved his gun around, ignoring the horrified gasps of the people, "You killed her! You killed Janice!"

"Janice…? You mean the deputy head of the Council?" Alex asked, genuinely curious. He was going to whittle out as much information as he could from the man.

"Yes- and you killed her!" The man wailed.

One of the men behind him called, "Boss! We've got to hurry. MI6 is here."

The Boss growled, "Rider doesn't deserve a quick and painless death. He should suffer, like they did, hallucinating for the last twenty-four hours of their life. Being paralyzed after only ten of those hours. Spending three in painful agony. Kill his friends."

Alex acted quickly, drawing his gun and spinning around.

Four times he squeezed the trigger. Four bullets through the head. Four bodies fell.

In China, the number four is considered bad luck. The number four sounds too much like 'death' in Chinese. And that's exactly what the number four is. Death.

Screams erupted around him. Alex flicked on the safety and tucked his gun back into his pants. His phone rang moments later.

"Alex? You're okay right? We heard the shots."

"You should know me by now, Tulip." Alex answered, "Do you have some OSA's ready?"

"And you should know me," Mrs. Jones sounded amused, "Don't blame me for the paperwork you're about to get." She promptly hung up.

Alex looked at the terrified men and women still crouching. There must have been at least fifty people.

"Bloody hell."


A/N: Um, wow. I just like... completely disregarded all the studying I need to do and instead wrote this. I'm so screwed for tomorrow.

It seems like all the Alex Rider fanfics that I write are impulsively posted. I literally just finished writing this and I spent a grand total of one minute proofreading it.

OMG THIS WAS MY FIRST ONE-SHOT. EVER.

Anyway, please review! I'd love to know how many mistakes I made!

-Alice