Chapter 1: Coming of Age

One Year Later…

LOCATION: LONDON, ENGLAND

Kensington Road is silent. Humid air stirs through the window, surprisingly still for the cold November nights. The sweet, rotting tang of leaves hangs in the air, the wind softly howling through the murky gutters and a tentative spray of rain peppering the slick tarmac. A 4x4 grumbles past a mossy drain, splashing muddy puddles up onto the blank pavements. The stars are hidden behind swathes of cloud; it seems as though it is always raining in London. A row of dignified, Victorian terraces stand facing one another, side by side, their curtained eyes shut tight, the whole street asleep for the night. One particular house, is still awake though, at least partially.

Inside of it, in a bedroom on the top floor, a lanky, blonde teen rolls over in a bleary, restless half sleep, squinting at his digital clock with sore, brown eyes. Its green digits light up the room, gleaming a pair of snake's eyes, casting a luminous, emerald glow over the bedroom and its bedraggled contents. Dark shadows wreath the bed covers in inky blackness; the teen shuts his eyes and listens to the steady pit-pat of the rain outside of his house. 3:01am. He smiles faintly to himself. It's the witching hour. Too early to be awake though. A lone vixen shrieks through the rumbling of distant traffic, separating the silence like a knife. The teen barely flinches, as he's certainly heard far worse things cry out in the dead of night during his lifetime. 3:02am. The neon glow flickers as the seconds change, catching a framed certificate upon the whitewashed wall with a glint.

Certificate of Achievement

This certificate is to certify and commend Alex Rider, upon leading the Brookland Comprehensive Badminton Team to victory in the UK Finals.

Signed: Mims Davies, Minister for Sport and Civil Society

The teen snuffles softly in his sleep; he has another certificate, from the Queen, commending him on his many acts of heroism on behalf of her Majesty's Secret Service. That one is shoved under the bed though, in a dusty old box that had been swallowed up by dirty washing and comic books, because this teen, Alex Rider, is a perfectly normal, ordinary, and completely unmemorable 16-year-old. At least, that's what he's told himself. No more MI6 for him now, not since the Grimaldi incident just over a year ago. That was it. No more missions, no more hurt, pain, betrayal, life-threatening situations or manipulative government bodies. He'd seen too many agents turned into puppets to ever let himself become one now.

It was time to move on.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

"Morning, Jack."

"How'd you sleep?" Alex pads into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning lazily.

"Okay, I guess. Woke up at 3 though, again."

A slight, attractive young woman stood at the kitchen counter, smiling at the teen through ginger bangs, her freckled, boyish face filling with laughter lines. "I told you to stop looking at your clock when you wake up in the night, or your body will get used to waking up at that time."

Alex lowers his hands, looking at her with a smirk. "And since when do I ever do as I'm told, Jack?"

The woman, Alex's housekeeper and closest friend of over 10 years, Jack Starbright, shakes her head, pouring boiling water from the kettle into two mugs. "Tea?"

"Yes please."

"Two sugars?"

"Three?"

"Wow, you did sleep badly last night." Alex hops onto one of the seats at the breakfast counter, rolling his brown eyes and resting his elbows cheekily upon the side.

"Not that badly! I'm just craving sugar right now."

Jack takes the tea bags out of the mugs, flicking her soft, red hair towards their fridge on her right. "Eat something then, silly. You need your carbohydrates." Alex reaches for his tea, smiling gratefully at Jack.

"Thanks. And I know. Believe me, I know. They won't stop drilling that into me in P.E."

"That's because it's important!" Alex chuckles and blows softly upon the hot beverage, watching the steam swirling up from it thoughtfully.

"Have you done your homework?"

He nods, gaze flicking up to Jack's. Alex is currently sitting his A-Levels; he chose P.E., English Literature and French. Homework had become quite the burden upon the teen, but he was happier than ever, a strange juxtaposition with most of his schoolmates. His best friend Tom, for example, was 'losing the will to live' with every passing day, or as he so dramatically put it. The way Alex saw it though, anatomy studies was wildly better than being shot at constantly. Jack was happy too, that he was home, safe and sound, and had been for the longest period of time since Ian Rider had died.

She was so proud of him that he had passed his GCSE's, despite only having been in school for little more than 14 weeks in a year; she had sobbed everywhere on his results day, and Tom had smacked him, whilst grinning his face off, yelling that it was 'unfair that he still aced everything despite learning nothing.' He had learnt stuff though! At least Mrs. Jones had been thoughtful enough to hire several tutors for him, and thankfully, Alex was a very fast learner. Along with A-Levels, he was competing in Brookland's Badminton after-school club and had made new friends that way, becoming something of a legend when he had beat even the best teachers at the sport on occasion.

Jack places a plate of buttered crumpets in front of him, before skirting the counter and sitting up on the chair beside him, pulling a book and a bowl of cereal towards her. "Enjoy." Alex leans his head on her shoulder, then straightens up and picks up a crumpet, pretending to toast it to her.

"Thanks, Jack. Happy Sunday." Jack giggles, doing the same with her cereal spoon in return.

"Happy Sunday, Alex." A few minutes later, and Alex is finishing off his first crumpet, butter dripping onto his plate, as he and Jack munch in companionable silence together. From the porch, comes the muffled sound of letters being pushed through the door. Alex wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, then gets down from the chair and pads to the front door. He leans down, the doormat prickling his bare feet, as he picks up the morning's mail. He feeds the letters and leaflets through his fingers, studying them in detached detail. Miss Starbright. Miss Starbright. Pizzas, 10% off! Christmas is coming soon, get your gifts now, at .uk! Miss Starbright. Alex Rider. Amazon Voucher code- wait.

Alex stares at the letter, eyebrow raised. He thinks it may be a bank statement, but then he realizes it has a handwritten address on it. His stomach twists. He rarely gets mail, and the only person who handwrites his mail is Sabina. This isn't Sab's handwriting… "Jaaaaaack!" He turns and jogs back into the kitchen area, looking up at Jack, who now has her eyebrow raised, mid-spoonful of Coco Pops.

"Yes?" Alex stands beside her, flicking the letters onto the counter before her.

"You, you, you, rubbish, you, rubbish...me."

Jack smiles quizzically. "Yes, Alex, that's called a letter. It's for you - you know how that works, right?" Alex rolls his eyes, then picks up his letter and shows it to Jack.

"Yeah, but who sent it to me?"

Jack looks at it skeptically, then shrugs. "Maybe it's a friend of Sab's? I'm not psychic Alex, just open it for god's sake." Alex purses his lips, forcing his paranoia and suspicion hackles from his time in espionage to lie flat, before tearing open the letter with his forefinger and thumb.

He hops up beside Jack again, and they both lean over to read it, Jack resting her chin upon his firm shoulder as they did so. They both finish reading it at the same time and then look at each other as one. Jack's bemused expression has now changed to one of cold grimness. "No."

"Yeah, but-"

"No, Alex! And I mean it this time! That horrible Jones woman is trying to drag you back into all this mess again, and I refuse to let it happen. We've had enough near-death experiences to last us a thousand lifetimes, Rider!" Alex blinks; Jack never uses his surname unless she's completely serious, and he hasn't heard her use it since she used to speak to his uncle, Ian Rider.

"I know, Jack." The teen said, quietly. "But, remember what I told you she said to me after we saved those kids from the Grimaldi twins… She said I would have a choice in any missions they briefed me on in the future." Alex waves the letter in front of both them, scanning the typewriter print intently. "And on here, it says they're calling me in for something extremely important and momentous. A coming of age thing, they say. Apparently, 16 is the magic number, here. It might not even be a mission!"

Jack glares at him. "Remember what Jones said about getting addicted to danger, Alex?" He sighs heavily, tossing the slip of paper aside.

"I know, I know. But, this doesn't look dangerous. It looks...interesting." He swivels round on his chair and looks Jack in the eye, letting his shoulders droop and gazing at her imploringly from beneath his slim brows and blonde fringe. She raises her eyebrow, green eyes glimmering, unamused.

"Don't you try that puppy-dog look on me, mister. It's not gonna work!" A few moments pass, then she too sighs, looking at him tiredly. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Alex frowns, straightening up. "Why should I?! They've never sent me a letter before! This is new...and intriguing, right? No mentions of a mission, just a request. They're requesting to see me, Jack. That's never happened before! They're at least keeping their word…" He pulls a thoughtful face, frowning at the granite countertop. "Can I go, if you come with me?" Jack gently pushes him on the chair, snorting as she does so.

"Like hell, I'd ever let you go there without me, Alex."

"They said, come ASAP." Jack nods wearily, knowing that she'd already lost this argument with the strong-headed teen as soon as they'd read the letter earlier. "Yes, so, go shower and get your act together. We'll be there. But, promise me you won't go gallivanting off on any more missions for these psychopaths! Whatever they say, I will never, ever trust them with you, never again."

Alex smiles softly, then leans forward and hugs her tightly. "I promise Jack. I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than go on another mission for them. I'm done with them! Even if they think they're not done with me…" Jack hugs him back just as tight, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Good. That's the way it should be. Remember, Alex, it's time to move on, don't let them drag you back into that hell again."

"I won't Jack. Believe me, I won't."