This is my first fic so reviews good or bad, would be appreciated!


Chapter 1

'A remarkable recovery'

"No pain. Just a sense of tiredness and resignation. Alex Rider smiled and closed his eyes."

"What will we do without him?" Mrs. Jones whispered as she sat and stared blankly through the hospital window. Alan Blunt was next to her, flicking carefully through some files. He was wearing his trademark grey suit, and a red tie. The room was very bland, painted cream with a single window and a door. The light from the window fell in strips across the room. It had only one bed. It's occupant, Alex Rider.

"We know how useful he has been to us Alan; one day he will be a better agent than John." Mrs Jones was clearly becoming agitated, sitting upright in her chair. She rolled the peppermint around her mouth silently. But Alan Blunt was too absorbed in his files to notice. There was a knock on the door. A young doctor dawdled in, carrying a clipboard. He was wearing a white coat and had a hospital ID tag hanging limply round his neck. He was olive skinned, with dark eyes and short dark hair. He smiled briefly.

"Alex is stable. He has a long way to go, but luckily the bullet missed his heart and lungs. Our major concern now is that he wakes up from the anaesthetic. Hopefully he will come round in the next few days." The doctor, Dr. Johnson, swayed on his heels. He looked very uncomfortable in the company of the head of MI6. Of course, he knew nothing of how or why a fourteen year old boy ended up with a bullet in his chest. As far as he was concerned they were his parents. Alan Blunt finally looked up from his files.

"Thank you doctor." uttered Blunt. Dr. Johnson gave a nod of recognition and left the room briskly.

Alex could hear them. He was sure. It had to be Mrs. Jones and Mr. Blunt. And they must be there to drag him away and into their next adventure. No, not this time. He was just about to get up and tell them to leave him alone, when he realised.

He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even feel. It felt like he was in a dream, listening in on the world. Then he heard a knock; and a female voice. It was one he recognised instantly. Suddenly he felt a shooting pain through his chest. It was like being shot all over again, but this time it was very painful. He remembered now; and slowly, he opened his eyes.

Once his eyes had adjusted to the light, he saw her by the door. It was Sabina. She was standing against the wall grinning. Sabina waved and Alex managed to smile back. But the smile soon faded. Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones were at the end of his bed. They were sitting on small fold- out chairs. Blunt was clutching some files.

"Alex, your back. There's something here were going to need your help with." Blunt said confidently. Mrs. Jones gave Alan a look of disgust. How could he treat Alex this way so soon after the shooting? But that was Alan Blunt. He believed emotions endangered his work. He couldn't become attached to his agents. Even if they were only fourteen years old. The same age as his children. Alex sunk his head back into his pillow in dismay. He had barely opened his eyes and already they had involved him in their next mission.

"Sabina, I heard that your father made a full recovery. I think this might be of interest to you too." Blunt shuffled awkwardly in his chair and beckoned Sabina over. She sat on the edge of Alex's bed and held his hand. Alex was puzzled, was it Sabina's voice that had awoken him? Blunt unclipped a picture from his file and passed it to Alex.

"Do you recognise this man?" Blunt asked. The picture showed a young man that had clearly had extensive plastic surgery. His face was littered with scars. He had no hair and a nose that seemed too small for the face it was on. There was only one thing Alex did recognise about this face. Dark steel- blue eyes. Alex glanced at Sabina. She smiled reassuringly and squeezed his hand.

"This is Cassack. He is one of our newest agents; he is eager to meet you." Blunt took the picture and slipped it back into his file. During the conversation Mrs Jones had stayed silent, watching over the situation. There was another knock, this time sharp and abrupt. A man came through the door and Alex recognised him at once. It was Cassack. He was very tall and athletic, wearing a loose fitting t- shirt and jeans. He approached Alex and held out his hand.

"Alex, I believe we have met before." There was no mistaking the voice. Although slightly lower, the Russian accent was still clear. Alex stared in disbelief. It couldn't be.

"Yassen…"