Disclaimer: I wonder, if I were to buy Alex Rider, would that include the movie, or does that come seperately? This is implying, for all those who didn't catch on, that I don't already own it.
By the way, for the record, I really like this chapter. The contrast of the comical scene at the airport and the really depressing concersation on Liverpool Street makes me proud.
Plus, for some reason, having someone tell you how it's all going to end up seems to heighten the tension and suspence a ton, don't you agree?
"Okay, they could't have gone far!" Snake called over to Wolf and Cub. They were pushing their way through the crowd, trying to find Eagle and Fox without getting lost themselves.
Wolf glanced at his watch. "Well, great," he practically growled.
"What?" Alex asked, standing on tiptoes to see over the heads of all the other travelers.
"Our plane takes off in fifteen minutes."
"Oh."
Meanwhile, back at the ranch (aka Liverpool Street), Alan Blunt was innocently reading a report from Singapore, minding his own business.
Well, at least, as innocently as he could manage, which still looked pretty suspicious.
And since Blunt's business was other people's business, it wasn't really his own business he was minding either...
The point, is that Blunt was doing what he always does, when Mrs. Jones burst through the door.
Although, she didn't burst through the door as much as she opened them, walked through, and closed them firmly.
I'll stop, I promise.
She strode over to Alan Blunt, who hadn't bothered to look up at her.
She slammed a report down onto his desk, hard enough to make his mug of coffee jump.
Blunt didn't even flinch, but raised an eyebrow slowly, and looked up at his deputy.
"Problem?" he asked, as innocently as his profession allowed.
"I think I see them!"
"Really?"
"...No."
"Damn."
"Oh wait!"
"You see them?"
"No... no, that's definately not them."
"Double damn."
"Problem?" Mrs. Jones cried, leaning on her hads, which were balled up into fists and resting on top of the report.
"Yes. I was wondering if you had a problem. With the report." Blunt clarified.
"I leave work one hour early. One hour. Once, in my entire career. One hour," she growled, "and what do you do? You send Alex Rider to a South American warzone!?!?"
"Actually, it's not a warzone. It's classified as a conflict zone. There's a difference." he pointed out cooly.
"Yes! Warzones have rules! They rarely shoot unarmed fifteen year olds! In a conflict zone, you're shot just because they don't want you to feel left out!"
"I'm sensing that you found a flaw with my strategy?"
"A flaw with your strategy? What about the total lack of strategy?" she practically screeched.
"I don't understand."
"Why did Alex have to go? One of the SAS operatives could have just as easily sent us the coordinates. And don't give me any of that bull about using him as a cover. It's actually more suspicious to find four men and a boy hiking in Columbia than just four men!"
Blunt, finally, dropped the "innocent" act, and got down to business.
"I sent Alex, and chose this particular squad, because together they'll create circumstances in which this mission has a greater chance of succeeding."
"What?"
"They'll never make it without being caught."
By now, they were something like thirty gates away from where they'd last seen Eagle and Fox. And their luggage, come to think of it.
"Wolf, what should we do?" Snake asked.
"Why don't we split up? Um... Cub, stay with me, we'll keep looking. Snake, you go back to our gate and see if they came back. And make sure nobody stole our stuff. Call me if you find anything."
"Same here." Snake replied, and walked back in opposite direction, pushing through the crowds.
Wolf and Alex continued weaving through the throngs of people, searching for any sign of Eagle, Fox, or the girl they'd followed to the bar.
"What do you mean?
"Isn't it obvious? They'll never be able to sneak up on the FARS. Alex has never really seen a jungle before, and a few month of training in jungle 1 can't compete with living their your entire life."
"So, you're saying that you sent one of our best agents, along with four very good SAS operatives into a trap?"
"Technically.
"Technically?"
"That's what I said."
They stopped to regroup when they reached the baggage claim.
"How much time do we have?" Alex asked the solder.
"According to my watch our plane took off five minutes ago." Wolf replied easily.
"Well you seem awefully calm." Alex noted.
"I checked the departure board two gates back. Our flight's been delayed. We have twenty minutes."
"That's lucky."
"Alan, will you stop evading my questions and just tell me what you know I want to know!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed, fed up with her boss.
Blunt sighed.
"Very well. They'll be detected, yes, but they'll have time to put up a fight. What I'm banking on is that, due to Alex's age, his past experiences with the unit, and the past experiences of the unit itself, will create a possibility that will allow the mission to survive, even if the operatives don't."
"Will you just spit it out and stop trying to sound smart?" Mrs. Jones snapped, quite uncharacteristically.
They just stood at the baggage claim, totally lost.
"Should we just go back?" Alex asked tentativelly.
Before Wolf could reply, some woman from Customer Service bounced up, smiling cheerfully.
"You folks look a little confused. Can I help?"
"Um, no-uh, we're just. We lost our friends" Wolf stammered out, flushing a bit out of embarrassment.
"Oh, they couldn't have gone far, don't worry! When was the last time you tried calling them?"
Wolf just glanced at Alex in chagrin. The boy was covering his face with his hands in total shame.
The smile seemed to actually slide off the woman's face. "You didn't try calling them? What century did you fly in from?"
"In plain terms," Alan shot Mrs. Jones a look, "since Alex is young, and since he's trained and worked with K unit before, and since the unit leader's been in a situation somewhat like this before, which - according to his psych file - left a pretty profound impact, I'm hoping that when things get really bad, the SAS operatives will tell Alex to run for it."
Mrs. Jones seemed to be genuinely shocked. "Alex wouldnt' leave them there, you know that!"
"Yes, I do. His guilt wouldn't let him run away, and neither would his sense of duty. He'll continue on towards the FARS headquarters and transmit the coordinates, while his unit is distracting the guerillas."
"That's... Alan, do you realize? You're going to destroy him. Even if he survives, imagine the emotional scarring, if nothing else."
"I know. But there are 56 innocent people being threatened with much more than emotional scarring as we speak."
Twenty minutes later, all five operatives sat on a plane headed for Bogota.
Since Wolf was the only one Alex hadn't sat next to on the way to Miami, he wasn't surprised when the soldier plopped down next to him this time.
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, until Wolf suddenly turned to Alex.
"I can't believe you didn't think of calling them!"
"You didn't either!" Alex defended himself.
"Yeah, but you're fifteen! The answer to every teenager's problem is supposed to come from their cell phone!"
"Well, sorry," Alex said, smiling ruefully. "I'm not used to having a cell phone on a mission. It's not like I could call the big scary bad guy I'm tailing and say 'Hey, do you mind slowing down a bit, I got a late start. Or better yet, just give me a ring when you're ready to turn yourself in!'"
"Point taken"
"Thank you."
After a few more minutes of silence, during which Wolf watched Alex fidget almost constantly, he asked, "Nervous?"
The boy hesitated. "A little" he finally admitted.
"Don't be. It's gonna be fine"
"How do you know?" he demanded.
Alex saw, just in time, a far off look in the soldier's eyes before Wolf glanced, almost involuntarily, back two rows at Snake.
"Because I said so," Wolf said, then looked away.