Hey guys, thanks for the awesome reviews! Here is the second chapter. There isn't so much dictating from the book, sorry about that, but its Yassen's point of view and it has to play by the book. Hope you like it!

YGPOV

"Targets…" Alex whispered the single word.

Cray was foolish to reveal his plan to Alex. I could see him trying to process what he had just heard, the secrets of Eagle Strike revealed. Something like horror dawned on his face, but he kept it under control. A normal fourteen year old would have broken down by now, long ago. But not Alex, he wasn't normal. He never ceased to amaze me. Even now, he was frowning, and I knew he was trying to think of a plan, to save his life, and the many that would be subjected to Cray's plan.

I tensed when Cray took the flash drive out of his pocket. Alex knew I had a gun, and thought I would kill him if he moved even an inch. Because of this, he would be hesitant to try anything, but if he did, I would have to take some kind of action. But I wouldn't kill him. I knew I couldn't do that. It would destroy my career if Scorpia found out. I frowned.

Cray began to explain the rest of the plan, the devastation it would cause and the key to it all which he held in his hand. Idiot; he still underestimates Alex, like so many others. I had learnt my lesson quickly, remembering the day in France not to long ago.

The South of France, Montpellier

YGPOV

"Good evening, Alex" I said

I had woken as soon I sensed someone in the room with me. Opening my eyes, I saw the young, fourteen year old boy; Alex Rider, son of the only man I ever befriended, the man who had saved my life, and my mentor. Not only that, he was holding a gun an inch from my head, his hand trembling. He brought his other hand up to secure it.

"You have my gun," I said in an emotionless voice. I did not fear the boy, and was unsurprised that we had met again, as I knew we would. I did not expect it to be here though.

Alex took a breath, his dark brown eyes hard.

"Do you intend to use it?" I asked, meeting his gaze.

Nothing.

I continued calmly. He was not sure about what he was doing, and he was too young. If he killed me, it would destroy him. I would reason with him, not only for my benefit, but for his.

"I think you should consider very carefully. Killing a man is not like you see on television. If you pull that trigger, you will fire a real bullet into real flesh and blood. I will feel nothing; I will be dead instantly. But you will live with what you have done for the rest of you life. You will never forget it."

I paused, letting my words sink in, letting him see the dark side to revenge. He stared at me, indecision in his eyes.

"Do you really have it in you, Alex? Can you make your finger obey you? Can you kill me?" I asked calmly.

He was now a rigid statue. His eyes were on his finger curled around the trigger.

"Maybe you have forgotten what I once told you. This isn't your life. This has nothing to do with you."

I stared at him, completely relaxed. I bead of sweat ran down Alex's face, and he wouldn't meet my eyes. I suddenly felt immense pity for the boy. I meant what I said, this wasn't his world; yet.

"Why did you do it?" Alex demanded, speaking for the first time. "You blew up the house. Why?"

I quickly composed my face, hiding my surprise. So Alex had been staying there. It was extremely ironic. And how did he find me; perhaps working for M16 again? I was glad Alex wasn't killed; it would have been my greatest regret. I had little regrets.

"Because I was paid."

"Paid to kill me?"

I hid my smile. He must have caused a lot of trouble lately if he drew that conclusion. "No Alex, it had nothing to do with you." I said, just as Raoul opened the cabin door, taking in the scene before him.

"Then who—?" Alex began.

But it was too late. As he said this, his eyes widened, a second before he was swung violently away from my bed. I whipped aside, knowing that Alex would fire the gun, unintentionally in surprise. I stood up as Alex hit the wall, firing a bullet into the ground. The gun dropped out of his hand. I walked over to him, hoping he wasn't too hurt. I stopped when I was a metre away, looking down at him, as blood trickled out of his mouth.

Raoul grabbed him and took him to main saloon. Alex tried to break free, but there was a reason I hired Raoul; he was extremely strong. Alex was slumped into an armchair. Franco and joined us soon after, sporting a dark mauve bruise on his forehead. Upon seeing Alex, his face had darkened with anger. I smiled faintly to myself; knocked down by a child.

"Give me the little brat. I will kill him personally and then drop him over the side for the fish." Franco snarled in French, but with a strong accent. Alex wouldn't understand.

"How did he find us Yassen?" Raoul said, also in French. "How did he know who we are?"

Alex glanced at me, trying to penetrate my pale blue eyes that met his gaze. His look was almost calculative, but otherwise emotionless. I had to admire Alex. He had found out where I was staying, discovered that I had blew up the house, knocked out a highly trained employee and broke into my cabin, set on revenge. He was no ordinary boy, and I had always known we would meet again. He was also in a room with three killers and still showed no fear, his face blank. He appeared much older than the last time I saw him. He must have agreed to more assignments, despite my advice. It had aged him, and he'd seen too much.

"How did you know you would find us here? I asked, after signalling for silence.

Alex said nothing. I was in no mood for an interrogation. "You are only alive because I permit it. Please don't make me ask you a second time."

He shrugged. "I was on vacation; I was on the beach. I saw you on the yacht when it came in."

"You weren't working for M16?"

"No."

"But you followed me to the restaurant?"

Alex nodded. "That's right."

I half smiled to myself. "I thought there was someone." The smile left my face. "You were staying in the house?"

"I was invited by a friend," Explained Alex. Suddenly, his eyes flickered. "Her dad's a journalist. Was he the one you wanted to kill?"

The boy was smart. "That is none of your business."

"It is now."

"It was bad luck you were staying with him, Alex. I've already told you. It was nothing personal."

"Sure." Alex looked me straight in the eye, his face darkening. "With you it never is."

I went back over to my men, secretly eager to escape the accusing brown eyes. I felt no remorse for what I did, but it was like I was staring at the serious face of his father. They were so alike, in almost every way.

Franco at once began to jabber about killing him again, his eyes never leaving Alex.

"The boy knows nothing and he can't hurt us," I said in English so that Alex could understand.

"What you do with him?" Raoul asked, trying to speak English as well.

"Kill him!" Franco yelled.

"I do not kill children," I replied. More to the point I do not kill the son of my only friend. Alex didn't look convinced.

"Have you gone mad?" Franco asked in French. "You can't just let him walk away from here. He came to kill you. If it hadn't been for Raoul, he might have succeeded."

"Maybe." I said, studying Alex once last time. He met my gaze, knowing the verdict was coming, yet still, there was no fear on his face. I made my decision.

"You were unwise to come here, little Alex," I said. "These people think I should silence you and they are right. If I thought it was anything but chance that brought you to me, if there was anything that you knew, you would already be dead. But I am a reasonable man. You did not kill me when you had the chance, so now I will give you a chance too."

I spoke my plan rapidly to Franco in French, aware of Alex's eyes watching us wearily. I then walked over to Alex until I was a short distance away. "You have courage, Alex," I said. "I admire that in you. Now I am going to give you the opportunity to display it."

I nodded at Franco. "Take him!"

Alex uselessly tried to fight him off, and was dragged to the deck. Franco left to make the arrangements. Raoul held Alex by the arm tightly, whilst Alex stood still, his watchful eyes on me. I looked out into the night, waiting for Franco's return, though I wasn't looking forward to what was coming. Ten minutes later he stomped onto the deck, a large smile on his face, holding a sequined uniform. I looked at Alex, who was staring at Franco's arms in confusion. Franco chucked it to Alex.

"Put it on." He snarled.

Alex looked down at the uniform in disbelief, shaking it out, before looking back at me.

"You much me joking." He said incredulously. I just stared back.

Franco brought out his gun, pointing it at Alex's head.

"On!" Franco spat.

Alex's eyes flickered to the gun, and then to the water, still trying to think of ways to escape; he wisely thought better of it. Setting his jaw, anger in his eyes, he changed out of his vacation clothes and put on the ridiculous bull fighting costume. Once it was on, Franco and Raoul left, and I took out my gun.

"Walk." I said. He needed no further instruction. Without a word, he turned around and walked off the boat. I lead him off the path so no pedestrians could see them and took him to the concrete archway outside the bull ring. I explained to him what he was about to do. When I finished, there was an eruption of cheering inside the arena. The matador had won.

"Why are you doing this?" Alex asked, fear and anger in his voice.

I shrugged. "I'm doing you a favour, Alex."

"I don't see it that way."

"Franco wanted to put a knife in you. It was hard to dissuade him. In the end I offered him a little entertainment. As it happens, he greatly admires this sport. This way he gets amused and you get a choice."

"A choice?"

"You might say it is a choice between the bull and the bullet."

"Either way I get killed." His voice was flat as he took in the truth.

Hopefully not, I thought. "That is the most likely outcome, I'm afraid. But at least you will have a heroic death. A thousand people will be watching you. Their cheering voices will be the last thing you hear."

"Better than hearing yours." He growled with hatred in his voice.

The gates opened, and Alex's eyes widened as he took in the arena. I nodded at him. "Remember," He said, "Raoul, Franco, and I will be beside the barrera—that's right at the side of the ring. If you fail to perform, if you try to run, we will gun you down and disappear into the night. But if you agree to fight, after ten minutes we will leave. If by some miracle you are still standing, you can do as you please. You see? I am giving you a chance." I didn't tell him only Raoul and I would be leaving. I couldn't dissuade Franco to leave after ten minutes. Raoul did as he was told, trying to make up for planting the bomb incorrectly, almost costing him his own life.

One of the people who had opened the gate pushed Alex forward, and he walked reluctantly into the ring. His eyes were wide, full of fear. I watched him sadly for a moment, before making my way to my seat. I sincerely hoped he would survive. It might have been kinder to put a bullet in him. I walked to the far end of the stands and sat down. Alex was looking back at the gate, probably contemplating his chances of making it over before one of us shot him down. He looked at Franco, then me, then Raoul. The crowd fell silent, and Alex reluctantly let the red cape drop. The bull charged.

********

Alex staggered to his feet. He had survived the second attack; I was impressed, and relieved. I had nearly decided just to shoot the bull, but I could do that. His career would be over, and Scorpia would kill him to. Alex's hand touched his stomach and looked down to see blood on his palm. About ten minutes had passed and Alex would not survive much longer; may as well give him a better chance of escaping. Raoul looked over at me and followed suit. Franco as planned stayed where he was. I reached the exit and could no longer see the arena as another archway blocked my sight. Suddenly, the crowd roared and muttered in disbelief. I walked back up the steps and tried to see through the standing crowd. Alex was throwing the red cape over the bulls head. Without hesitating, he grabbed the banderilla off the floor and threw with all his strength at Franco, who yelped in pain as it burrowed itself into his shoulder. Alex kept on running and escaped over the gate.

"I don't believe it," Raoul muttered in French. "He's just a boy."

I smiled to myself. "An extraordinary one." I said quietly. Alex and I would meet again.

Cray's Castle, tea

"Lock them up."

I snapped out of the memory and looked up to see two guards grabbing Alex and the girl by the arms. Alex was looking at Cray in disbelief, perhaps realising how mad he really was. Cray had forgotten them and was eating another cookie. I looked at Alex with regret, anger on his face, trying to fight the guards. The girl looked at him, almost like she was waiting for instructions. As they were about to be taken back into the mansion, Alex's eyes darkened. He stopped fighting the guards, and allowed himself to be taken away. In that moment, he looked older than I had ever seen him. Not even in France. It had been a short time since then, but his had the eyes of someone who had seen about as much as they could handle. There was something else in his face to.

Determination…

Ok, so that's the second chapter. Sorry about the major flash back, but Yassen has so much to tell in that scene in France! Hope you liked it, and if you want the next chapter, please review, and I'll get it to you ASAP! P.S again, sorry about the dictating, but I cut it out when I could, and the rest just has to be there! Please give suggestions if you think Yassen would act any differently. THANKS