Dammit- it's been waaaaaaaay too long- almost nine weeks. I have plenty of excuses to give you (basic summer stuff)- but I think you would rather just read this. Well, my average is one chapter per two weeks- which means I owe you four chapters. Don't worry- I gave you five. Keep the change.

Oh, and we recently broke 200 reviews! I have each and every one of you to thank- whether by reading it, following, favoriting, or reviewing, you guys all have been awesome support!

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Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider

I. Mrs. Jones

As soon as Ben Daniels left her office, Tulip Jones fought the temptation to sigh.

Dealing with the consequences- or guilt- of using Alex never seemed to end. She knew her troubles would only multiply a hundredfold if word got out MI6 were using a teenager- the mere knowledge that they had used blackmail alone would enough to completely ruin MI6.

Which was why, for one, it was a such a relief that few people seemed to know about it- or that no one cared at all.

And, of course, the five people who did care were the SAS soldiers that Alex had trained with all those years ago, not to mention one of her own agents. It wasn't like there weren't other people Alex had come into contact with- even the CIA, or the ASIS.

But no, it had to be people from her government.

Really, though, Blunt had said that it would only work to their advantage if they were the ones who ultimately gave K-Unit their orders.

She didn't even try to convince herself that she wasn't one to blame for Alex's 'experience' with MI6. The corruption, the blackmail- it was all worth it in the end- having an agent who was off the books, off the record completely, not to mention trained and young- it was the perfect set-up. The new Prime Minister turned a blind eye as long as Blunt gave him results- no matter the method and means of getting them, and as long as the public stayed ignorant, the media silent.

And the blackmail had begun- never stopped, really, even if it was hidden behind carefully-concealed, pretty-packages of, "You know you don't want to refuse this mission, Alex. You of all people should know what is at stake- not to mention, of course, that you don't have a choice in the matter. Remember who your guardians are, remember that we have all the control- all the power. We own you." And Alex would fight back, tooth and nail, before Blunt would beat him back into submission, the teenager cracking (breaking) under the pressure. It was a horribly predictable pattern- one that she had seen far too much in the past year.

One of Blunt's fears were that they would lose him- especially when he would still be of use to them. Whether going insane, rogue, or even growing a resistance to their mistreatment of him, and downright refusal- or worse, being manipulated against them by someone else. Yes, Blunt had been worried- about losing blackmail material, or it getting to a point that Alex didn't care anymore.

He had grown hungry- always wanting more, more control over Alex, utter dominance over him.

Alex had been doomed into this life the moment his parents had died- whether it be by choice, or not.

And Mrs. Jones knew that when she had been promoted to this position- not, even being a part of this line of work, she would be signing death warrants- but she didn't think it would have been the slow and torturous death of forcing a young teen into a world he didn't belong.

II. Alan Blunt

It was perfect- so perfect. Everything had fallen into place just as predicted. Blunt had calculated the odds, of course, the slight chance things going wrong- but the statistics had always been in his favor. But really, it could have easily fallen because of one slip-up, one opportunity that he hadn't meant to give Alex.

So far, everything was going as planned. Everything had gone to plan.

Blunt hadn't known if Alex would retain the same skill sets- mainly, being able to mold into different characters, or portray certain types of people.

After all, one of the great skills of both spies and assassin was blending in- or putting on a show when necessary. Alex's skill at the airport had done just that- he could convince people he was an adult.

It was a rare talent that had proven useful- something that was almost impossible to learn.

Yet something Ian had taught him well.

That skill- it had been necessary for Alex to have it, even after his mental withdraw.

He hadn't wanted Alex to be completely robotic- he wanted that type of control, yes, but he needed the same usefulness that only being human could given. So, it was a compromise, of sorts- molding Alex into some type of mindless slave, still having human-like features, but still completely and totally owned by MI6.

One of Alex's current weaknesses, was that unless he was specifically told to 'act out the part,' the teen could not comprehend nor participate in emotional conversations.

It was a form of socializing he had no place in.

Thankfully, before he had started sending Alex out on missions, he had devised a series of tests consisting of different personas he would need to mold into, different situations to react to. The teen had easily and flawlessly blended into each persona and situation. However, Blunt knew that if Alex was with K-Unit for an extended amount of time, that it was entirely possible that his perfect mechanism would shut down, unable to process the emotions of seeing and trying to respond emotionally to K-Unit.

Divide and conquer- Blunt had certainly succeeded in that way, and was currently monitoring all contact between them. It would only be a matter of time before K-Unit tried something foolish- and he was fully prepared when the situation would arise.

III: Alex Rider

His mind was dark for the most part.

There were parts that were completely blocked off- Alex knew most of it was memory, experience of the world that would only be considered a hinderance- and thus, he wasn't allowed in that place in his mind. He had no use for anything that would create a weakness, or cause inefficiency.

He liked processing information- visual, smell, and hearing were his main ones. Taste had no interest to him- if it was edible food, preferable nutritious, that was all that mattered.

Touch was useful to a certain extent- for recognizing substances based on their texture. Human touch, however, he absolutely despised- it brought on the stir of emotions, which also confused him, yet he was trained to immediately shut down them when the did appear. Of course, he wasn't allowed to act inappropriately if touched- it was inevitable on some missions, yet he couldn't react the way he would have wanted to- flinching, or fighting back.

Analyzing people and movements, coming up with logical conclusions- all of it was part of the job, part of what made him useful.

One thing that was more difficult to process, was pain- something he was feeling quite a lot of at the moment.

He was aware that he had failed his mission- or, hadn't completed it, which basically meant the same thing to Blunt. He had completed the first two assassinations successfully, but his third target had been tipped off, leading to his cover being blown and him being captured.

And that was where he was now.

Blunt wouldn't sent MI6 agents to come retrieve him until he completed his assignment, he knew.

It was a matter or waiting- until they let their guard down, but not before his body was too physically weak to escape.

He endured the pain somewhat easily- it was simple enough to detach himself from it, to allow his mind to focus on other tasks.

Although his body felt pain, his reactions could be controlled, or manipulated- pain was a message, but one that he didn't necessarily have to receive, or acknowledge. Either way, his pain tolerance was higher than average.

Honestly, it was their own mistake for only having two guards on him; also, they had allowed him without cuffs for a moment too long.

Alex then had focused on staying hidden, going deeper into the building's security, intent of completing his assignment.

O-o-O-o-O

"This is Royal and General, how may I be of service?"

"I need a secure line to Alan Blunt," Alex spoke calmly, ignoring the adrenaline and the sense of urgency to get out. "Agent Rider, ID..." he then rattled off a string of numbers and letters.

A moment later, a familiar dull voice came on. "Yes, Agent Rider?"

"Request for immediate retrieval, sir," Alex said respectfully.

"Is your assignment complete?" the dry voice rasped.

That an glanced beside him, where a woman lay face-down, her neck snapped cleanly. "Yes, sir."

"Very well, a retrieval team will be at the roof in twenty minutes."

The line immediately disconnected.

He wasted no time going to his pre-planned exit strategy- the air ducts. Before mapping out the assassination, he had made sure to memorize the blueprints- and take note of the security- which had proven to be useful.

He had taken care of his main injuries- but it had only been a few days. It wouldn't take long to recover before he was issued another mission.

Same old, same old.

O-o-O-o-O

You should not be surprised to be treated as a tool, a weapon- after all, that is all you are to them.o

O-o-O-o-O

I probably don't deserve any tips because of the long wait you had to endure- once again, please accept my humblest apologies.