"Elliot? I'm home," Mrs Jones called out as she entered the MI6 safe house that had been their home for the last six weeks. She hated Alan Blunt for giving her this assignment.

"We have captured Alex Rider. He has refused to talk, as expected, so we have had to use more inventive methods."

What she hadn't realised at the time was that those 'inventive methods' actually involved suppressing all of Alex's memories and replacing them with fake ones in which she was his mother. It was cruel for both of them. Although she supposed it was less cruel for him. They were both living the life with a family that had been taken from them. But for her, it was an awful reminder of what she had lost, whereas Alex was being given something that he had never had.

"Elliot!" she called again. There was no response. He was usually home before her and he normally texted if he was going out anywhere. However, she had been able to leave the office early this evening, so was home earlier than usual. She checked her watch as she looked around the hall. He usually arrived home around this time if he went to a friend's house after school. Although his 'friends' were actually MI6 agents wearing latex masks to disguise the fact that they were all above school age. They didn't know who he was, but they did know that he was a high profile target and that he had the potential for violence. They thought he had a form of amnesia and that doctors had recommended immersion therapy to try and stimulate his memory. The agents provided daily reports on 'Elliot', which she and Alan Blunt poured over, looking for anything useful that was seeping through from Alex's subconscious. So far, there had been nothing. The only thing was his dream about escaping from hospital, but even that provided nothing useful about Scorpia or their plans.

Seeing that his school shoes weren't on the rack and his coat wasn't on the hook, she put her briefcase down and pulled out her phone in one swift and smooth movement and called him. It went straight to voicemail.

"Hi Elliot, love. I was just calling to check where you were and what time you'll be in? Let me know. Speak soon." She left the message and hung up. As far as she was concerned, there was no reason to worry just yet. Elliot was a sixteen year old, and most teenagers made last minute plans with their friends and forgot to let their parents know. Of course, 'Elliot' wasn't like any other sixteen year old, but Mrs Jones didn't want to raise any alarms at the minute; there had been no urgent updates from the unit assigned to him, and if there had been any cause for concern, they would have sent one in.

Next, she tracked Alex's, well Elliot's, phone. Mrs Jones opened up Find My Friends and waited whilst it searched. It was unable to find his location. That was when faint stirrings that something was wrong settled on her - there weren't many places in London that had no service (other than the tube) and his route wouldn't take him on the tube - but before she had a chance to do anything else, her phone rang.

"Daniels?" she answered.

"Mrs Jones," he began. He sounded groggy. "I've just seen Orion. He's here. In London."

"Where? We know that he's in London."

"Ma'am? You know that Orion is in London and we haven't had a briefing?"

"Orion was captured six weeks ago, and has been in custody ever since."

"He was on the street, Mrs Jones. He knocked me out when I tried to take him in." Well that explained why he sounded dazed.

"You tried to bring him in instead of reporting it and getting back up?"

"Yes. But there's something else. He was taken."

"What?" Mrs Jones asked, moving swiftly into her home office and logging into her computer.

"I was only out for a matter of seconds. I stayed down when I came to, and only opened my eyes a fraction. Enough to see that hardly any time had passed since I confronted him, and that he was still on the street. He was pacing up and down the pavement and it sounded like he was panicking, saying 'what have I done?' and then a van pulled up. He was insistent that his name was Elliot Jones, which I thought was just a cover name, but they knew his name and Scorpia have liked showing him off anyway. And then they put a bag over his head, tied his hands behind his back and shoved him into a van. No number plates."

Mrs Jones swore. "Who took him?"

"There were four of them, as far as I could tell. One driver, and three got out to grab him, but I didn't get a good enough look to ID them."

"Where?"

"Pentonville. They headed north."

"How long ago."

"Just before I called you, Mrs Jones."

"What street were you on?" She had logged into the CCTV system.

"Arlington Way. Just outside the theatre." He had been just a couple of streets away from the house.

Mrs Jones worked quickly. She searched and found Ben Daniels on the street and then rewound the footage and watched as Daniels confronted Alex on the street. It was as he had said; Alex fought back instinctively as Daniels tried to cuff him and as soon as Daniels hit the floor, he panicked. He was still Elliot then. At least for the moment. If Alex was back, he would have taken off running the second that Daniels had been incapacitated. The fact that Daniels was still alive spoke volumes too. And then the van pulled up. Alex Rider - Orion - was a good actor, but Mrs Jones had been living with Elliot for the past six weeks, and this was definitely still him. The fear in his eyes was real. And Orion would have been able to take out three assailants with no difficulty, so who had taken him? Scorpia? Trying to get one of their best agents back. But if it was them, why had they cuffed and blindfolded him? Was it for show? Or was it actually one of his enemies out for revenge?

Being the deputy head of MI6 Special Operations meant that Mrs Jones could authorise the continued tracking of the van and send several SAS units after it. Whatever happened, they would get him back. They had to get him back. With the units now actively in pursuit, she rang Alan Blunt. She was not looking forward to telling him that Orion - their only high ranking Scorpia lead since his father had infiltrated the organisation more than fifteen years ago - had been taken. Worse, they didn't know who by. Mrs Jones had only just finished updating him on the situation, when she received a call from the lead unit.

"The van is empty, Mrs Jones."