a/n: I know I took forever, I have a LONG list of excuses, that are true by the way, but I'll spare you and just get right to the chapter. I haven't got the slightest idea to the school systems in England so I'm just going to have it be like it is in the U.S. Hope you like. Review! –Steph

Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to Anthony Horowitz.

Triple Threat

Chapter 2—Introducing Operation Triple Threat

MI6 headquarters

"When will he be here?" Blunt asked, folding his arms across the front of his customary gray suit. His gray eyes starred out of his slightly aged face at the women sitting across from him in the briefing room. She had curly black hair and was sucking on a seemingly ever present peppermint. She was Mrs. Tulip Jones. The deputy head of British Military Intelligences, MI6, second only to Mr. Alan Blunt, the head of MI6.

Mrs. Jones quickly consulted the thinnest of the files in front of her. "Within the hour," she answered primly. "Alex will be fetched by the driver from school."

Blunt nodded and laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on the mahogany table top. "Wonderful," he replied though there was little to no emotion in his voice. "And the other two?"

Mrs. Jones flipped a page in her folder. "Wolf's on his way. Our monitor is showing the car about 15 minutes away." Blunt nodded and Mrs. Jones continued. "Yassen arrived about an hour ago so he's here."

The corners of Blunt's gray lips twitched upwards in the beginnings of one of his rare smile. He leaned back in the plush leather office chair in satisfaction. "Wonderful," he said again though this time there was a little emotion behind the word. "Operation Triple Threat is well on its way, wouldn't you say?" Blunt cocked an eyebrow at Mrs. Blunt.

"They must agree to the situation first. Alex hasn't always been the most willing when it comes to MI6 and he's not particularly fond of Yassen," Mrs. Jones said logically.

Blunt frowned; this was not what he wanted to hear. "He'll agree," he stated simply. "They all will. They will learn to get along."

"Yes I hope so," Mrs. Jones mused. She eyed Blunt cautiously. "I know the importance of succeeding with this meeting today but this has to be their choice. Yassen and Wolf should be more willing to agree but Alex may not be. You must not blackmail him though or bribe him. For this operation to be successful they'll all have to want it."

"None of them are going to be overjoyed with the idea," Blunt responded. "Especially not when they hear what the first year entails. I agree they should all want it to succeed but none of them will right off the bat." Mrs. Jones nodded in understanding, her black curls bobbing around her around head. "They will work together, earn each others respect and learn to work as a team, than they'll be committed to the idea. I have no doubt in my mind about that," Blunt added to get his point across.

"True, true," Mrs. Jones nodded. The black phone on the end of the table rang out shrilly and Mrs. Jones reached over and pressed the speaker phone button with one of her long, ruby red painted nailed fingers. "Yes?" She asked briskly.

"Agent Wolf's car has just arrived," a middle aged female voice said. The voice was slightly raspy, as if the woman was a long time smoke. "Shall I send him up?"

"Please do," Mrs. Jones replied.

"Right away ma'am," the secretary responded politely. She was about to click off when Mrs. Jones spoke up,

"Send Agent Gregorovich up as well."

The secretary voiced her acknowledgment before she clicked off of the line. The briefing room was silent for five minutes as the rooms' two occupants halted their conversation in preparation for their two new arrivals. Mrs. Jones rifled through another, thicker, folder looking for a particular document. She removed three pieces of thick, legal paper and set them in front of her on the table.

A knock sounded from the door. "Come in," Mrs. Jones called out.

The highly polished mahogany door swung open and two men entered. The first was a man who appeared to be in his early to mid twenties. He had fair hair of a light brown coloring close cropped around a smooth face. He was tall, lean and muscular exhibiting the body and grace of a dancer. His clear blue eyes held no emotion as they flicked around the room in a silent survey that took only seconds. He wore olive green cargo pants, black lace up combat boots and a navy t-shirt. He was Russian, but you would never be able to tell from his voice that held no trace of an accent. This was Yassen Gregorovich.

The second was a fair deal shorter than Yassen but lacked nothing in muscle, his square shoulders supported powerful arms. His hair was black and close cropped. He had a handsome face that was only marginally marred by a slightly uneven nose; no doubt it had been broken in the past. He was Yassen's age, perhaps a year or two younger at the most. He was dressed much the same as Yassen and exuberated the air of a leader. His emotionless dark brown eyes flitted over the room the same as Yassen's had done just seconds before. They'd been trained to never let the emotion show through their eyes. Eyes were a dead giveaway of what a person was feeling, the biggest weakness a person could have. This was Wolf; Wolf was his MI6 codename and it suited him perfectly.

"Welcome gentleman," Blunt greeted the two men in a professional way, "Wonderful of you to come on such short notice. Please, take a seat," Blunt gestured around the table to the many empty leather chairs. Yassen and Wolf sat down across for each other and eyed each other warily as they did so, wondering why they were there and who the other was.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you are here," Blunt began the same speech he gave every recruit that stepped into his office or the briefing room. "All will be revealed in time but we are waiting for our third member to arrive. He should be here soon," Blunt said as he checked the expensive watch that was strapped to his wrist and was pleased to know that the hour was almost up.

The phones shrill ring sounded again and Mrs. Jones pressed the speaker phone button again. "Yes?"

"Agent Rider has just arrived," the same raspy female voice sounded through the room. "Shall I send him up?"

Mrs. Jones replied with a simple, "Yes," and than hung up the phone.

Blunt's gray eyes flickered with something that was close to excitement. Operation Triple Threat was about to begin.

Triple Threat

Brookland Prep

"Mr. Rider? Mr. Rider did you hear what I just said?" Alex Rider snapped his head up from his desk as he heard his name. He looked up at his history teacher, Mr. Travis, who was standing in the front of the room watching him closely.

"Erm sorry what was that?" Alex asked.

Mr. Travis was not pleased when he didn't detect even a hint of apology or sheepishness in the young boy's voice. "I said, Mr. Rider that you may break off into small groups of up to 4 people to complete yesterdays' packet on the recent explosion at the Nuclear Submarine Repair Yard in Murmansk. Please pay attention next time."

"Sorry Sir," Alex said but didn't feel very sorry about anything. He now remembered why he'd been zoning out in the first place. Why do I have to learn about the submarines exploding in Murmansk? Alex thought wryly as he walked over to where his group of friends were seated and plopped down in an empty desk. I was there, hell I even caused the explosion! In a sense, but of course they don't know about that. What else could they possibly teach me? After reading the information the teacher had supplied the class yesterday Alex had to try very hard not to start laughing at the sheer stupidity of some of it. Of course it sounded reasonable to everyone else because they hadn't been there but as far as Alex was concerned it was by no means an accurate tale of the events that day.

"What did you get for number four?" Alex's best friend, Tom Harris's voice pulled Alex from his thoughts.

Alex blinked. "Sorry what?"

"What did you get for number four?" Tom repeated slowly though in a joking manner.

"Uh…" Alex flipped open his packet and was not surprised to see that all the answers were blank; he hadn't felt compelled to answer any of them.

"Surprise surprise," Alex's friend Josh laughed as he caught sight of Alex's blank paper. "Alex didn't answer any of the questions."

"Oh shut up," Alex said and punched Josh in the arm. He shook his head to get the light brown hair out of his eyes. "What's the question?"

"You're so lazy Alex," Hailey said as she pushed her long blonde hair out of her face and twirled a strand of it around her finger. "You've got the paper right in front of you and you ask what the question is. But whatever, it's: what is the primary suspected cause for the submarines exploding?"

Alex knew the answer, the real one in any case, but what he knew as the truth was not what his friends thought. "Uh," he said as he hurriedly tried to recall what the packet had said. "I think it said that there was an oil leak in one of the submarines and it met with some explosives."

"What did you do? Memorize the packet?" Josh said as he scribbled down what Alex had just said in his messy scrawl.

"Ha ha," Alex said and he glanced at the clock that was above the blackboard. 27 minutes left. "This is boring," Alex complained.

"You've hardly been at school at all this year," Hailey said indignantly. "You've only been back for a month and already you're complaining about it being boring? What about everyone else who's been here the whole year?"

Alex shrugged in response. He'd missed the first three months of the new school year after being shot in the chest by a sniper from Scorpia. Alex had some tricky dealings with the elite and deadly terrorist organization Scorpia over the summer vacation and it had resulted in Scorpia wanting him dead. The bullet had come deadly close to his heart, only off by a centimeter or two. Alex had been unconscious for three weeks and spent the next four recovering in the hospital. For the remaining part of the three months Alex was in a physical therapy session specially modified by MI6 just for him. He'd only been back for a month.

"So do want to tell us where you were?" Hailey pressed casually.

"I already did," Alex responded just as casually as he pretended to look through the packet for the answer to the next question.

"Right," Josh snorted in disbelief. "You were sick, again."

Alex glanced up from his packet and eyes his friends. "No I was on one of those student exchange programs. I told you that already." Oh course it was a lie but he couldn't very well tell them the truth and he needed something other than his 'I was sick' excuse.

"Uh huh so explain the scars and all the injuries," Ayden shot at Alex. Alex looked over at his other friend.

As Alex was halfheartedly to think of an excuse Mr. Davis called from the front of the room. "Mr. Rider the office just called and they want you there immediately with all your things."

"Where are you going?" Hailey asked interestedly as Alex stuffed his history papers into his book bag.

"No idea," Alex replied and for once he was actually telling the truth.

"Well than see ya later," Hailey said.

"Yeah bye," Alex said distractedly, he was trying to think of who was here to get him and what he had to do. He thought back to this morning when Jack Starbright, his housekeeper and guardian since his uncle died, had given him breakfast and tried to remember if she had said anything to him about what might me going on. Alex drew a blank.

"Are you coming to school tomorrow Alex?" Ayden asked. It had become tradition for one of his friends to always ask Alex if he was coming to school the next day. He'd been gone so much and so frequently that no one knew if they'd see him the next day, in a week, a month or a year.

As usual Alex replied with his customary answer, even though not even he knew if it was true. "Of course I'll be here tomorrow." With that Alex walked out of the classroom and down the long hallway to the office. Waiting for him was a man dressed in a black suit and he was wearing a pair of tinted black sunglasses even though they were inside the building. Alex knew where he was going now; the only thing he didn't know was why he was wanted at MI6.

He followed the man out of the school and into the waiting Rolls Royce. Alex was beginning to wonder if what he had told his friends was actually true. Would he actually be at school the next day? Alex had no idea.

That was the last time anyone saw Alex Rider, at least as the 14-year-old boy that he was at the time.

a/n: short but better than nothing right? I was going to have a whole other part but that would have taken a few more hours to get done right and I have PSSA testing tomorrow, again, and am not in the mood to stay up late. The next chapter will be the second part of this one. Hoped you liked it anyway. Review! –Steph