Disclaimer: I hate boring old disclaimers! Who invented them? If you, boring-old-disclaimer-inventor, are still alive, you'll probably find yourself dead tomorrow morning with hundreds of arrows stuck in your chest. Alright, whatever. I don't own any of those Alex Rider characters, but I wish I did. I mean, who wouldn't?

A/N: I know this fic stinks, but please give me some reviews. For those retards who didn't read the summary, well, this fic is about Alex falling into a coma after whatever happens and MI6 is desperately trying to wake him up because a rich madman is planning to take over the world. Just the standard Alex Rider plot, though I've added the coma part. And you MUST review. No flames please.

The Painting - Prologue

Angelique Sariton smiled as she reread the file. I'm gonna get rich, she thought. And my boss would be SO VERY happy!

There was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said, still not removing her eyes from the photos and the article. She could already read tomorrow's headline: The Truth Is Finally Revealed, writes Angelique Sariton. She had spent years researching, and it had finally paid off.

Her boss opened the door. Angelique looked up and saw her boss red in the face, glaring at her in fury. That was not what she had expected at all, after telling him all that. It was not good to see the boss in a temper.

"Now what is it?" he shouted, spraying spit all over her face. "I was talking on the phone with Jenni!" His expression softened when he mentioned Jenni's name. Jenni Fenton was his fiancee, and they will be holding their wedding next month.

Angelique winced. "Well - "

"Well what?" exploded her boss. "Go to hell!" he said and stormed out of the room.

Angelique sat there, frozen. Well, if he didn't want to know, then she didn't care. She sat in front of her computer and started typing.

***

The Gentleman stared at his phone. He had been paid to kill men lots of times before, but never a woman. Especially one that was only in her early thirties.

He stared at the photo of her that they sent. She was blonde, attractive, and she was smiling. They were right. He really was a gentleman. He frowned, and called back.

"Yes?" said a faraway voice.

"I… I can't do it."

"What do you mean, you can't do it?" The voice was indistinct, but the coldness in it was clear.

"I couldn't do it. I won't kill a woman, period."

"You won't kill. Coward. I'll have to kill you." said the voice.

The Gentleman frowned again. They wouldn't dare kill me, he thought. They woudn't. they wouldn't dare.

He took a deep breath. "Then kill me."

The voice said, "It's your own choice.", and hung up.

The next day, The Gentleman was found dead in a hotel lobby.

***

Angelique Sariton frowned at the screen. Some-one had hacked into her computer. It didn't work. Then she suddenly remembered. She hit the Break key, but it was already too late. Her computer screen turned blank.

You know too much.

Angelique gasped. What did it mean, 'You know too much'? How did anybody know about the articles? The photos? The newspaper?

She needn't have worried. Some-one knocked at her door. Finally, she thought. Believe me now, eh?

But it wasn't her boss. It was a person dressed all in black. He was holding a gun with a silencer in his hand.

Angelique Sariton didn't have time to take this all in. She was dead before she hit the ground.

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!