Works of Imagination : Part 2
Disclaimer : Just want to confirm what I said in my first story that I do not own Alex Rider or any of the characters in it because I'm not Anthony Horowitz and I'm not that lucky.
Also, I'd just like to thank those who reviewed this story, you really gave me the initiative to keep going with it and I really appreciate it:-))
This one's a bit longer than my first part but I hope you like it!
Dampness and the faint smell of rotting sewage, left idle to decompose somewhere in the nearby vicinity. These are the unwelcome conditions that Alex awoke to some hours after the visitors had arrived on his front porch.
He opened his eyes slowly, his lids heavy following a newfound exhaustion accompanied by a strain tightening the muscles in both of his shoulders. It was at this point he realised what the kidnappers had needed the rope for. His briefly glanced behind him only to confirm what he had already expected.
His hands were bound firmly behind him and there was a mysterious sticky red substance that covered both the palms of his hands that looked a great deal like blood although he could not recall how it had got there. With a growing ache in his neck that seemed to equal the intensity of getting hit by a bus, he turned his head to examine the nature of his surroundings.
A patch on the ceiling which appeared to be percolated and growing in cracks indicated to him that whatever building this was hadn't been lived in for a very long time. A tiny window located at the base of the ceiling, also more than likely meant that they had taken him underground.
Alex took in these details with great precision, knowing that the very smallest piece of relevant information could save his life. It was then that he realised with the tiniest hint of satisfaction that he was not as vulnerable as he had first anticipated.
Shuffling his knees against the floor for a more comfortable position, he stretched the rope, widening both of his hands in the hope that he would be able to reach towards the left pocket of his trousers.
Earlier that evening, in his attempt to scavenge underneath his bed in search of a matching pair of socks, he had pocketed the pen knife that was covered in plastic bubble wrap in his efforts to create a defence mechanism for himself in the case of an emergency.
In this instance, his instincts had been right.
After nipping the material on his pocket with his left hand for several minutes, he finally succeeded in loosening the knife from the inside material and it fell to the floor (the plastic ensuring it was a sound proof operation).
Alex then got to work with gnawing away the inside grip of the rope with both hands and after several minutes he found himself tiring, the energy quickly seeping away from his body. HIs hands began to shake slightly as the overwhelming reality of the situation began to dawn on him.
It was times like these that Alex was forced to remind himself the tricks of perseverance that his uncle had instilled in him, in order to survive the most turbulent of situations.
Now remember Alex, the only advantage that a grown up will ever have over you is the belief that you are the weakest obstacle in their goal of success. Manipulate that obstacle, and you inherit the upper hand.
Alex opened his eyes after reciting his uncle's words, with a newfound sense of determination that seemed to strike a chord within his very soul, strengthening his mind and body.
After several deep breaths and a moment of contemplation, he gingerly began working again to reclaim the use of his hands, only to discover that his previous attempt was almost completed.
After stretching thin the last of the rope, his hands finally broke free and he stood placidly in the empty cell contemplating his next move. As if drawn by an inevitable source of curiosity and fear, he began to move towards the door.
Cautiously releasing the handle in his efforts to remain unobserved, he noted to his immense surprise that his kidnappers had not thought to lock the door of the cell, believing him to be incapable of freeing himself.
Alex felt a small proportion of satisfaction working its way up his spine in the knowledge that he had in some way, unintentionally outsmarted them.
Just as he slowly began to creep his way outside the cell, he heard the distant rumble of voices and the high-pitched sound of hysterical laughter erupting from the other end of the hall. Alex quickly made the decision that if he wanted to find a way out of there, he would have to take the chance and follow the sounds of his kidnapper's voices.
He figured that their location may give some hint as to a possible exit to the building as well as an explanation as to what exactly they intended to do with him. Alex still had no idea what these men wanted or how it came to be that they discovered where he lived.
His mind spinning with endless possibilities, none of which seemed likely, he slowly approached the door that was emitting sounds of an eventful conversation which seemed to be centred around him.
"...kid has no idea what's even going on. Looked like he was expecting to see Rider on the front porch and not us. You think he'd have been more shook up considering that screw up that took place today..."
Alex could feel every nerve in his body tingling with fear as he pressed his ear firmly against the door in his efforts to keep his pace with the flow of the conversation. They were talking about his Uncle. What did he have to do with any of this?"
"What do you think that was all about this morning Johnny?" asked another voice. "I mean what the hell did those bastards want with him? Coming at him with a small army and seven machine guns, you'd swear he was a bomb they were ready to defuse."
"I don't know Mark" replied the man who Alex now identified to be the figure who first approached him in the street. The one who had rounded on him in the middle of his house.
"...hell knows what their plan is. My guess is Rider's got his back up against more than one figure of authority who are looking to take him out. By the looks of it it's probably some wealthy business organisation, looking for comeuppance, decided it was best to take his kid. Anyway he's not their property. They can go find some other source of revenge..."
Could they be talking about Ian? Alex wondered. As far as he knew, Ian didn't have any enemies in the bank he his knowledge, Ian didn't have any friends at all so why were all these people coming after him and using him as a way of retaliation.
"...I say we hang the kid from the top of the boiler room and fry him" suggested the man Alex knew to be Mark. "We can send a video of his experiences to his Uncle in exchange for a compromise on the Korea situation..."
Alex began to slowly back away from the door, physically unable to hear anymore for fear of throwing up, or worse crying out and drawing attention to himself.
That was when he began to run. If they would not let slip information regarding the whereabouts of the nearest exit, he would just have to find it himself. Preferably before they noticed that he was missing from the cell. That would make the task at hand slightly more difficult.
On discovering a maze of sweeping corridors, he decided to keep to the left. He figured that if he was going to find a way out of here, it was probably best to try and obtain some method of familiarity in the case that he ended up going in circles. Anything was possible.
After several minutes of wandering through empty passage ways,he came across a series of doors which all appeared to be uniform in size and colour. He briefly wondered whether or not they had taken him to some industrial complex designed purposely for secrecy and isolation.
However then he suddenly recalled hearing the sound of a blazing horn somewhere in the distance from inside his cell. They say that London traffic could often be heard echoing from the North side of the Atlantic.
After deciding that his best chance of getting out alive was to test at least one of the doors in the hope of finding an exit, he gripped his hand around the first door knob in sight, only to be greeted by a wailing siren tearing through the building.
As if in response to an emergency evacuation sequence, Alex heard instantly the sounds of running feet striding towards him, with purposeful determination. Feeling as if he had just been electrocuted, Alex acted on the first impulse that came to mind and push himself through the nearest door and out of sight.
It struck him instantly on entering that this must be the boiler room that the kidnappers were referring to in their earlier discussion of his fate.
Spaced out in front of him with vaulted high ceilings was a room packed to the brim with rows of gantries, metal containers and boiler room equipment. Alex stared in awe as he realised that out of all the rooms he could have chosen to invade, he had managed to pick the one with the most effective hiding places.
A sharp screech of metal quickly brought him back to reality and he hastily sprinted towards the other end of the room, swerving through metal gauges and steel columns. Crouching low behind a metal barrel that was emitting loud groaning noises, Alex peered cautiously over the top of the machine towards the open doorway.
"He must have came in here Johnny, there's nowhere else for him to go..."
"Shut the hell up Mark" replied the voice that caused a shiver to run down Alex's spin "Come out now boy and we promise we wont hurt you. We only want to make sure you don't hurt yourself 'cos places like these can be very dangerous for little people like you."
It was then that Alex heard the familiar clicking sound from the direction of the two kidnappers that made his blood run, if possible, even colder than before. The sound of a loaded gun.
On hearing footsteps approach the aisle across from the place where he had taken refuge, he began to back up slowly, making sure not to drag his feet across the concrete floor any louder than necessary.
While attempting to move discreetly out of sight, as if by an unwelcome chance, his hand suddenly struck the leg of a metal table and a variety of tools and wrenches came raining down on him, clattering noisily to the ground.
Quickly alerted by the shattering sound of metal hitting metal, the two captors with their machine guns came sprinting adamantly towards his location, just as Alex reviewed the processes of a split second decision. Doing the only thing that he knew would save his skin at this point in the game, he came to the only conclusion which indicated of a possible way out.
As the men quickly approached him, their guns at the ready, Alex dived beneath the metal barrel in front of him just as bullets went flying. As he had predicted the cylinder had acted as a deadly shield of defence, creating a dividing line between himself and the kidnappers.
The only difference with this shield, was that on contact with the bullets that had now lodged in its' side, a faint hissing sound began to emit from the top of the cylinder.
As if they had suddenly collided with an invisible glass wall, both captors stopped abruptly in their tracks to stare in horror at the gas that was now being emitted from the top of the cylinder rising to fill the room.
Alex then took this cue as his opportunity to plan his escape. Shuffling silently on the floor, using his elbows and knees for support, his aim was to move as far away from the gas as possible knowing that it was only a matter of time before destruction followed.
The two men having momentarily forgotten him in their state of panic, now started to make their way hurriedly towards him, deciding that he was worth more than the destruction of an abandoned building.
Realising at that point that he was not yet free from danger, Alex jumped to his feet and began to sprint lightly towards the door at the far end of the room with the two men in close pursuit. He knew that his two captors would not make another hasty attempt to shoot at him but that did not mean that they weren't prepared to do what they originally said they would and hang him from the roof.
Alex could definitively hear his feet pounding against the metal floor as he struggled to continue leading the chase through the building. He could feel the sweat soaking through his hair, giving him relief from the intense heat that was now soaring through.
Vaguely wondering whether or not the men had thought to turn off the gas cylinder before they left the boiler, his thoughts were soon answered with a shattering explosion that appeared to rip through the whole building.
Alex was instantly thrown off his feet as the entire building appeared to erupt in a mass of fire and debris. Concrete rained down from every crack and crevice as he struggled to breath through the cloud of dust that was now settling all around him.
His cheek which was now pressed against a damp concrete floor, was suddenly exposed to a searing blast of heat as flames ripped through the interior of the building with a roaring magnitude of intense heat.
Alex thought he could faintly hear the welcoming sound of sirens blaring in the distance and he struggled shakily to his knees in his efforts to locate the two men who had been chasing him at the time of the explosion.
On examining his surroundings, with his vision less than bleak in a heavily burning building, he noted to his intense surprise that the two captors had suddenly disappeared. He figured that the sight of the flames ripping through the building must have encouraged their departure.
Suddenly, as if his cries for help had been unanimously answered, a fleet of men dressed in firefighter uniforms barged through one of the bolted doorways and flooded into the ashen covered corridor. Instantly spotting him as if he had been their primary goal, several of the firemen started towards him while others quickly spread through the building, attempting to tackle the flames.
"You okay?" One of them shouted towards him, over the ear-splitting alarms that were echoing through the building. Alex nodded quietly, not trusting himself to speak at this moment in time.
The man who had spoken to him gently took him by the elbow and steered him towards the exit where several firefighters carrying hoses were gathering equipment outside, awaiting instructions to seal off the entrance to the building.
As they approached the edge of the parking lot where several emergency service vehicles were camped out expecting a full-scale evacuation, the fireman holding Alex began to lead him towards the back of an awaiting ambulance.
Alex then started to protest as it suddenly dawned on him where they were going. "No really, I don't need a hospital. I'm not hurt" Alex started to explain but the fireman evidently pretended not to hear him as they rapidly approached the rear end of the ambulance.
Alex suddenly stopped in his tracks as the sight in front of him slowly unravelled to reveal a visage of familiar fear and uncertainty. In the back of the awaiting ambulance with the doors flung wide open, were four men dressed in leather jackets, two of whom were heavily armed. It was men from the SUV.
"No -" Alex started to back up, his eyes widening as he was grabbed roughly from behind and thrown face down into the back of the vehicle, just as the doors were shut firmly behind him.
As if to confirm his worst expectations, firm hands pinned him down, pressing his cheek against the floor of the ambulance. At the same time, tape was placed accordingly around his mouth as his hands were seized and mercilessly pinned together with cold slabs of metal.
Alex vaguely wondered in the midst of his subconscious what they were talking about as he watched their lips moving, their slurred words making little or no sense to him. Then he suddenly realised on examining their curious faces peering down at him, that he was on top of the examination table in the back of a now moving ambulance.
As if they had somehow readily predicted his momentary sense of panic, one of the men withdrew a knife and held it to his throat as if to warn him of the consequences of any possible mishaps. On impulse, Alex felt himself tense at the stir of the metal blade against his skin and remained agreeably quiet for the remainder of the journey, not wanting to give these men an excuse to kill him.
After what seemed like hours, but what was more than likely only a couple of minutes, the vehicle came to a gentle stop, to which the men with guns and knives reacted to with the reverse. One of them hauled him to his feet with such force that Alex was propelled forward out of the ambulance and tumbled into the midst of what appeared to be an abandoned underground car park.
Alex could feel a trickle of blood moving slowly down his face as he lifted his head up off the tarmac to see a pair of shiny black shoes planted on the ground in front of where he was crouched. He began to shake slightly as the man standing in front of him suddenly barked out orders to his men in a language that he didn't understand.
As if on cue, two of the men then lifted him to his feet, but with noticeably less force this time round. That was when Alex first encountered the man who was unknowingly to haunt his subconscious for many years to follow.
Standing in front of him was a towering figure of a slight build and a tint of closely shaven red hair. His arms folded neatly in front of him, he struck Alex as a remarkably confident figure, whose dark and unforgiving eyes appeared to tell the story of a life once forgotten.
However in spite of his exceptionally cold demeanour, Alex was surprised to discover a hint of amusement dancing around the edge of this man's vision as he slowly examined him with a calculated inquisitive gaze. After several seconds of stoned silence and thoughtful reflection, the man gently spoke to him.
"Your name is Alex?" He asked quietly but confidently as if he didn't expect an answer but required some form of acknowledgment. Alex recognised his voice to contain and embedded Russian influence.
He nodded slightly, unable to adequately communicated with a piece of tape still covering his mouth. The man's eyes seem to drift over him with an apparent sense of ease, as if he was a familiar presence that he had encountered many times before.
After several minutes of quiet contemplation and nervous anticipation on Alex's behalf, the man who stood in front of him contemplating his fate, finally came to a decision.
"Let him go" He man said confidently, his eyes never leaving Alex's face as he addressed the men who were stationed behind him keeping guard.
"What?" one of them answered with several moments later, as both of the men holding him upright loosened their grips slightly but remained firm in their purpose. Judging from the abrupt stiffness of their posture and their expressions of pure disbelief, Alex guessed that this new development had not been part of the plan.
"Sir... our orders were to take him directly to Three for the routine evaluation and assessment" Another of the men contributed cautiously, his voice faltering slightly, as if he greatly feared the consequence of speaking out of turn when in the presence of this man.
Alex briefly wondered with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity what he meant by taking him to three? Was he referring to the number Three or a place named Three? Judging by the direction the conversation was taking, he guessed he might never know.
"I know what your orders are Schinsky, and now I'm telling you to release him" the Russian replied evenly, the clear hint of a warning lacing his voice as he gestured to the two men behind him drop their stance, to which they availed.
Alex suddenly felt the movement of his arms being returned to him, as he briefly glanced over his shoulder to witness all four men draped with guns and artillery line against the back wall of the compound in accordance with the Russian man's orders.
As he faced forward once again, Alex suddenly withdrew, barely managing to stifle a gasp as the man who appeared to radiate authority towered fearlessly over him, their faces only inches apart.
"Do you know why you're here?" his eyes suddenly adopting a slightly threatening ora, as his piercing gaze seemed to reach inside his very soul, unearthing its most human attire.
Alex gulped involuntarily under the sheer weight of the man's gaze and slowly shook his head in his efforts to appear unfazed by his unpredictability.
"You are here because your Uncle is an irresponsible man who is trying and failing to live two lives which do not coincide well together" he explained lightly as if this explanation cleared everything up perfectly. "Your Uncle is a dishonest man Alex, but he his trying to protect you from a life that has been predetermined by the people who are bound to direct the course of your downfall. For that, I cannot criticise him."
The Russian man paused for a moment in hesitation, waiting for a reaction to accompany this recent turn in the conversation. When he received none he continued.
"The reason that I have decided not to allow a part of this development take place today is because I am giving you a chance. A chance to live but more importantly, a chance for your Uncle to redeem himself in realising that by lying to those most important to him, his lying to himself" he reasoned in an astonishingly gentle tone.
"You could describe this encounter as his opportunity to set his affairs in order" The Man smirked slightly in satisfaction as if had just predicted a forseeable future that Alex held no knowledge of.
In response to this testimony, Alex replied with the bravest and most accurate retort he could muster under the intensity of the present circumstances.
"I don't understand" he voiced with a tone of distinctive clarity, in his efforts to prevent himself from shaking. As he said this he looked up questioningly into the eyes of the man who had decided to spare his fate, under circumstances he was completely ignorant of.
The Russian man appeared to consider this for several moments before responding with an outburst of statements that seemed to contradict his previous intentions.
"It would be easier for me to kill you Alex, you do realise that" the man replied carelessly, momentarily averting his gaze from him as he allowed him to mull this over with a respectful distance.
"I could arrange for you to be taken away by these men and you will never see your friends or family again" he declared harshly "Or you can leave here now and it will be as if we had never met. To your ... guardian, this conversation never took place. Are we understood?"
The Russian man glared vehemently down on him waiting for an approved form of acknowledgement. Alex took several more seconds to consider this offer before realising that he wasn't being given a choice. It was either to live with impending uncertainty or die with a perception of unwelcome truths.
Both realities offered him a window into another life which before now had not been available for him to explore. By right, they went against everything he was taught to conform to; honesty, trust and the right to freedom without exception.
However Alex now knew that whatever happened from this day forward, his life would never hold the same degree of entitlement and simplicity it once had. His Uncle was not the man he had once believed. For whatever reason he had decided to retain the knowledge of his true self from him, Alex could not help but feel a hint of betrayal at the deceptive hand of his only relative.
The only form of acknowledgement that he secretly vowed to make, was the promise that he would uncover the truth of Ian Rider's unknown intentions. Only one thing in his life at that moment seemed completely certain - whatever happened next he was on his own.
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"You're telling me you escaped a burning building, only to encounter two firemen who you believed to be criminals and henceforth ran away from. Is that right son?" questioned the astounded police sergeant seated in the chair opposite as he stroked his head in a perplexed state of submission.
"That's right" Alex contributed helpfully, idly swinging his legs beneath his chair as he watched the man in front of him deeply furrow his eyebrows in apparent frustration at his obscure level of calmness.
The doubtful police officer took several more moments to consider this response before a knock sounded at the door, signaling the end of their eventful conversation. However, before the sergeant could issue a confirmation of this assumption, the silence was suddenly shattered by a shrill of raised voices that sounded distinctly familiar.
"...want to see him. Don't you eyeball me like that Mister, I'm a housekeeper and I'm perfectly capable of swinging a frying pan in the right direction when necessary" Jack's shrieking cries, distilled with fury drifted out to him as he jumped up off his seat, eager to embrace a sense of familiarity.
He reached out to unlatch the door but halted suddenly as another voice entered the charade, one filled with the coldest edge of malice he had ever encountered.
"I'm warning you now" his low voice dripping with hostility "If you do not open this door, I can assure you without a shadow of a doubt that the next job you work in will require a lot more effort than detaining a kidnapped eight year old" he declared menacingly, his voice tightening as he struggled to keep it under control.
Alex realised then and there that in spite of everything that he had learned about his uncle that evening, there was only one person in the world he really wanted to be rescued by.
Wrenching open the door and nearly collapsing under its' weight, Alex started forward into the hallway only to collide with Jacks outstretched arms which wrapped themselves around him in a soothing notion as she whispered reassurances to him.
As Alex looked over his shoulder in his attempt to reconnect with the light, his eyes suddenly locked with Ian's. They both stood there unmoving for several moments, their eyes communicating unsaid things before Ian finally grabbed him, bending down on one knee so that their eyes were level. "What happened?" he asked quietly but urgently, clearly determined not to be overheard.
However his attempt was proved to be in vain as the unruly police officer who had taken the liberty of questioning Alex suddenly stepped forward to address Ian, who straightened up tensely to receive him.
"This boy has had a terrible ordeal" the sergeant began as if he were reciting from a prerehersed script "Judging from the contents of our interview, I am of the opinion that he is severely traumatized by the days events and cannot be accounted for his statement at any given time" he pronounced before pointedly ripping the document he held in his grip, without a shred of sentimentality.
Alex guessed that was the sheet the sergeant had used to make notes of during their interview and smiled serenely to himself as he secretly marvelled at how often coincidences seemed to work in his favour. Much to his dismay, this small victory did not go unnoticed as Ian's suspicious glare suddenly caught the corner of his eye. However in spite of this he remained pensively quiet throughout the Sergeant's evaluation, absorbing every detail and capturing every fraction of his nephew's movement all the while.
"...should I believe the boy may be subjected to further danger we shall inform you immediately. However until then we shall do our best to be on the alert and to inform you of any possible developments if any" concluded the man, looking severely doubtful as he graced Alex with a condescending nod of approval.
Ian who had remained completely silent during this entire procedure with Jack by his side looking decidedly confused, suddenly approached the Sergeant with an outstretched hand, a look of masked composure and politeness blanketed across his face.
"Thank you very much officer this was greatly appreciated" Ian contributed as a deliberate gesture of acknowledgement in the face of a profoundly astounded police officer, who clearly had not expected such an easy defeat.
"Oh...ah... well...you're welcome" the Sergeant stuttered, his cheeks colouring slightly in embarrassment as Ian made his way directly towards the exit without confronting either of them. Jack and Alex followed suit as they climbed into the back of Ian's jeep, knowing with undoubtful certainty that the case was far from over.
"What the hell was that about?" Jack exclaimed in frustration before they had even fastened their seatbelts, always the first to jump the gun. "I mean the guy looked like he was about to throw up from just looking at us let alone attempt to explain the situation! Am I right?" she looked desperately back and forth between Alex and Ian for confirmation but neither replied.
Ian, Alex had noticed, had remained completely silent throughout the entire journey home since parting ways with the police station, his eyes never leaving the road as they made their way in stony silence through the streets of London.
To Alex, that meant only one thing. He knew.
He knew that the sergeant was covering for him but more importantly he recognised that Alex had lied deliberately in giving a false statement to the police regarding his kidnapping. He wondered briefly if he was in trouble but then decided that it didn't matter considering that he almost didn't make it out alive today, under the circumstances.
They pulled into the driveway of their Chelsea town house shortly before the rain started to cascade down and both Alex and Jack waited in the front hallway with tense apprehension for Ian to make the first he hung up his coat, he seemed to notice their attention and turned towards them, though looking only at Alex. His inquisitive gaze seemed to penetrate right through him.
"Well talk about this tomorrow" was his only response, as he averted his gaze away from them before making his way upstairs. Alex glanced towards Jack, seeking reassurance and she responded graciously with a warm smile and a tender hug.
"He just missed you that's all" Jack whispered in consolation before she too made her way to bed. However Alex knew better. Ian Rider did not have the heart to face him because he suspected more about the kidnapping than he was letting on.
Alex then wondered exactly how long their abiding relationship of mistrust was bound to last and if it would at all.
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"How far are we going?" Alex asked curiously, peeking out over the dashboard of their moving car to examine the surrounding areas. They had been driving for what seemed like hours through open countryside and he was now beginning to wonder what exactly the purpose of this trip was.
"It's not much further Alex" Ian reassured him, though Alex could no longer tell from the serious look in his eyes whether or not he was telling the truth. He did not appear to be as cold and off-hand as the previous day but he still remained passive and withdrawn, as if his every movement required constant state of durability.
True his word, they pulled in on the side of the road several moments later and made their way across a green towards a sheltered churchyard, which appeared to be hidden in the shade of grand and towering oak tree.
"This way" Ian said quietly taking his hand as he led him silently through the undisturbed graveyard, towards the back of the yard where the tree stood rooted in the full bloom of spring. Alex remained silent all the while in a state of nostalgia as his senses began so slowly recollect having made a journey here in previous times.
Finally they stopped in front of the looming tree where a weathered grave stone marked In Loving memory of John and Helen Rider stood staring up at him as he now struggled to contain his underlying emotions.
"Do you know why I brought you here?" Ian asked gently still clutching his hand as they stood examining the spot where his parents remains lay.
Alex shook his head silently as he drew a sleeve across his eyes, blinking up a the morning sun.
"I brought you here because this is the last place I've ever issued a promise with absolute honesty. A promise that I have broken on several occasions" he continued, his voice filled with contained emotion. "I felt it was only right that in order to redeem that promise I should return here, only this time with you" he explained looking at him, his eyes as deep as the ocean appeared to felt the sorrow that threatened to consume him.
"When they left us Alex, I vowed to do everything in my power to protect you from what was out there. I know that in many ways I have failed you in this sense, that I haven't always been truthful to you but what's really important is that you are true to yourself" he declared, his voice stronger now as he came to the end of his objective.
Alex could see clearly the strength and determination that propelled him forward and allowed him to persevere in times of self-doubt and uncertainty.
"I don't want you to ever end up the way they did" he voiced sincerely, a look of tenderness entering his eyes as he peered down on him. "That's why I want us to talk and be more open with each other, so that we can both have the best chance of survival in every form" he concluded his head bent in the direction of his parent's graves.
Alex took a moment to recognise that this was what the Russian man had meant about his uncle 'redeeming himself', by asking for forgiveness in the only way he knew possible - through a physical representation of love.
Knowing that there were no words which could live up to his array of affection, Alex wrapped his arms around him, giving thanks that for the first time in so long, they shared a mutual concept of understanding to which no other existence could ever relate.
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Far across the other side of the green, unknowingly at their disposal, a man with close-cropped red hair and thick rimmed dark shades, watched closely the unfolding events that had taken place in the fluorescent lit graveyard. He could not hear the motive of their conversation but his binoculars had sufficed enough to provide him with the relevant information that he needed to know. This is where they buried him he thought, as though the location could give him some confirmation of what he already knew. However he knew better than to linger on past grievances. They are only an unnecessary distraction, he thought feebly. In spite of this he could not help but wonder, not for the first time this week, about the boy whose time was up in accordance with the laws of his people. Scorpia never forgives, Scorpia never forgets.
Slowly lowering his binoculars, he sighed inwardly knowing that his superiors would not be happy but also knowing that ultimately, he had made the right decision. Alex Rider's time will be soon enough. With this knowledge at hand, Yassen slowly withdrew from his vantage point, mindful that Ian Rider's fate would be not be so amiable as he set about securing his most challenging pursuit yet - The Wait...
Okay, so I realise this is a very long chapter so I apologize for the length because it just didn't feel right to split it into two parts. Also, I know that Ian didn't appear an awful lot in this story and the purpose of this was to give Alex an independent train of thought away from Ian's viewpoint. I thought it might be interesting to see what goes on inside his head during times like these. Oh and I should probably point out that there will more than likely be only one more two-part to this series as do plan on starting another Alex Rider project once this is completed, with a much more complex storyline than I've attempted before (possibly with the reappearance of dead people:-))
Oh and also, I'd just like to say that if you've read this and you like it, please review and let me know what you think - I'm very open to any possible ideas for a conclusion seeing as I haven't started it yet!