A/N: Once, again, much thanks to my lovely beta, Eleni_pixie!

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Alex Rider stepped out of the steaming hot shower, feeling more relaxed and content than he had in a long time, in spite of the fact that, once again, his life was in jeopardy. After all, now he was home, he would be sleeping in his own bed in his own room, the would-be-killer had finally revealed his face and made demands, and Jack was content to wait until the morning for answers.

He groped for a towel on the rack, tossing it over his head and rubbing it vigorously in an attempt to dry his hair. After a moment, he gave up and just let it hang damp, allowing the wet strands to fall onto his face. He quickly pulled on a pair of boxers and sweats and ambled into his bedroom.

His room was just as he'd left it: the bed unmade, a small pile of laundry building up at the foot of his bed, a stack of school books perched on his desk, and his laptop on his nightstand.

He grimaced. He hadn't checked his mail the entire time he'd been gone. He could only imagine the plethora of e-mails from teachers and friends alike demanding to know where he was and to send him work. He would have to come up with a convincing story.

As he logged in, his mind flashed back to dinner. The restaurant had been small, but cozy, with excellent food, and had been relatively empty. Jack had grilled Alex regarding the events of the past few months while Artemis, oddly quiet and withdrawn, picked at his salad. After finding his story satisfactory, she'd changed the conversation to a topic that Artemis could join in on. However, Artemis didn't seem to want to even try to participate – which was strange, even for him. Jack had laughed it off later, when Artemis had retired for bed early, as a combination of nerves and jet lag. Alex knew better.

He sighed heavily, pushing his friend's strange behavior to the back of his mind. Right now he had 140 e-mails from his tutor, about 100 from various friends including Sabina Pleasure, and close to 180 from his principal and teachers at school. As he began to click through them, he received another one: this time from a 'youneedtoknow at aol dot com.' He frowned. Normally, he'd write it off as spam, but something in his gut told him otherwise. He clicked it open, watching with a racing heart as his video player popped up and a familiar face filled the tiny screen. He quickly ran through the video and felt his heart sink with each word.

Alex Rider jumped from his chair and, pulling his laptop with him, ran to his friend's room.

*****

Artemis was sitting on the bed, head resting on his knees, arms wrapped around his skinny legs. It was such an odd position for the young genius to be sitting in that Alex pulled up short when he entered. His friend raised his head and looked up at him, his eyes just as troubled and uncomfortable as they'd been in the hospital – as they had been for several days.

There's something he's hiding from me, Alex thought with a pang. He'd thought that, given everything they'd been through, Artemis would trust him enough to keep him informed.

"Did you need something?" His voice was quiet and unnerving. Alex fought off shivers and he held up his laptop.

"I've been sent a video e-mail. It's not from the address that's been sending you e-mails, but it's the same guy," he explained. Was it his imagination, or did Artemis seem unsurprised by this news? "He says he knows you left and where you are . . ."

"May I watch it?"

The simple question threw Alex off guard. Since when did Artemis ask to see something? He felt his eyes narrow and he studied his friend intensely. Artemis was more pale than usual and there seemed to be bags under his eyes. His shoulders were slumped slightly, completely unlike his usual perfect posture.

"What aren't you telling me?" he demanded. Artemis shook his head and Alex snapped, "Don't lie to me! I'm not an idiot, Artemis. You've been acting strange these past few days. I know there's something you're keeping from me. What is it?"

The raven haired teen took a deep breath and licked his lips. "I'm not hiding anything," he began slowly, not looking at Alex. "I'm just . . . uncomfortable with the thought of going against an opponent we know nothing about." His mismatched eyes (he'd taken his contacts out after heading to his room) finally met his friends brown ones, in an almost pleading way. "You have to understand, Alex," he paused, taking another breath, "we literally know nothing about him. Not who he is, where he is, what he knows or how he knows it. I've never – It's not a very comfortable feeling."

Alex watched him carefully. The reaction made sense: Artemis had always considered himself to be superior to everyone else because he was so much more intelligent than everyone. He'd always known all the variables when entering a situation. This time he didn't and, although he'd never admit it, the young spy had a feeling that the 'uncomfortable feeling' he had was fear. Artemis was afraid.

Alex felt a twinge of sympathy. In a way, Artemis couldn't admit that he was frightened – it would be too dangerous. How many times had Alex been terrified, but unable to let that feeling go because it would cost him, or someone else, their life? He wanted to talk to his friend about this, as he knew better than anyone the dangers of keeping your emotions locked in, but he also knew better than anyone the dangers of letting said emotions overwhelm you at the wrong time. Maybe after all this was done, he and Artemis would sit down and have a long talk.

For now, he'd let it go.

The young genius cleared his throat. "Can I see the video?"

"Hm?" Alex asked, slowly coming out of his reverie. "Oh, the video, yeah. Here." He passed over the laptop.

Hunter's face filled the screen again. He looked thoroughly annoyed.

"Artemis," he chastised, "Artemis, Artemis. Why would you leave the Manor? I gave you very specific, simple instructions. You keep boasting about how high your IQ is, but you can't manage to send me my things?" He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Shame. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that, as corny as this sounds, I know where you are. Here, I'll prove it: You are in Chelsea, London. You are residing in the house that, currently, Alex Rider lives in. They gave you his Uncle's bedroom, which is the third room on the left at the top of the stairs. You ate at the Café Dinner, two blocks away from the airport." He smiled eerily.

"I know what you're doing, Arty," he said pleasantly (Artemis had scowled heavily at the screen at the use of his nickname), "I know exactly what you're doing. Given the circumstances, I think we can come to some sort of agreement." He straightened up, adjusting his crisp blue tie. "If you refuse to give me my things, I want yours," he smiled toothily, "meaning all your assets: money, cars, paintings, computers, credit cards, sculptures, inventions that haven't come out yet. In short, anything that has any monetary value to you. I would ask for your house, but I suppose that is not exactly yours to give . . .

"I will call you at midnight tonight. You have until then to think about it. Oh, and Artemis? I found you quite easily. I could, just as easily, find your family, your body guard, and your friends. If your answer is no I will kill them."

The screen went black.

Alex looked over at his friend. His pale face was blank, his eyes fixated on the screen. "What do we do?" He asked, unnerved by the other boy's calmness.

"Honestly," he glanced up, meeting Alex's eyes for a fraction of a second before looking away again and saying, "I don't know. I could just give him everything he is asking for, but his demands will just keep getting bigger. His ultimate goal is to humiliate me." He paused and touched the screen thoughtfully. "Can you forward this?" Alex nodded, seeming confused by the simple question. Why wouldn't he be able to forward it?

"Sometimes people put a virus into a video message," Artemis explained, as if reading his thoughts, "to either corrupt it after watching it or to leave the receiver unable to send a reply or forward the message. As we've watched it twice now, I think it safe to assume he hasn't corrupted the video. If you can, forward it to my e-mail: Foaly will pick it up there. If you can't, then save it and we'll call Foaly in the morning."

Alex nodded. "All right." He closed his laptop, still concerned about his friend. "Try to get some sleep," he advised. Artemis nodded and leaned back against the pillows.

The genius watched the young spy leave, feeling a lead ball drop in his stomach. Alex had believed every word. He truly believed that 'Hunter' had the ability to track them. He wasn't even thinking about the possibility that someone on the inside was feeding him information.

Artemis sighed heavily and drew his knees up to his chest again. Alex's predicament was, in its entirety, completely his fault.

I really hate myself, he thought.