Chapter One Meeting Alex

The first time I set eyes on Alex Rider, I was still recovering from my broken leg. My cast had just barely come off the week before; there was a slight limp in my step. I had several cuts and gashes on my arms and neck, compliments of the deceased's homemade pipe bomb. A special present just for me, now wasn't that thoughtful? Not.

I also had bruises from where the man had hit me. Not that I hadn't given him any broken bones, but I was still bitter that he'd been able to get past my defenses enough to land a couple hits.

I waited patiently in the Royal & General Bank elevator, and hit the basement button. The other passengers looked at me curiously, but I paid them no attention. Everyone was off by the time I made it to my destination, which was the whole reason. No person other than MI6 operatives, generals, spies, and head honchos was supposed to see the secret MI6 base underneath the fake face of the Royal & General Bank.

The elevator dinged, and I stepped into a white room filled with computers, suits, and high-tech maps. At the end of the small pathway between computer desks, there was a large glass office, the windows tinted so dark that you couldn't even see in. I stalked past twenty year olds and older men, my flat leather boots making almost no sound on the polished marble floor.

"Hey, babe, want to go out for a bite? Lunch on me!" a young man called out. I stopped and turned to look at him. He had brown hair that was cropped short, and bright blue eyes. He probably thought himself as handsome, but I didn't agree.

"Listen," I said, "First of all, I'm fourteen." That seemed to catch his attention. "Secondly, I am a spy and an assassin." He started to back away slowly. I took a step toward him. "Thirdly, you need to get back to work. I've got a mission call." I turned away again. I could hear his rapid, panicked breathing as I left. Good. I'd scared him.

I placed a hand on the smooth metal doorknob of the tinted glass door. Should I knock? Before I could decided, a cold, stony voice called, "Come in." I turned the handle of the door, and stepped in.

The floor was the same colored marble as outside. There was a large computer like screen that took up an entire wall. A dark cherry wood desk was sat in a corner with a sleek black laptop sitting on top of it. Behind the desk, an old man with gray hair, gray eyes, gray skin, and wearing a gray suit sat on a black leather seat. Shivers ran up and down my spine as I looked at Mr. Blunt, the head operative of MI6.

Standing next to his seat, Mrs. Jones, wearing a purple skirtsuit, and sucking a peppermint, was looking at a young teenage boy. He wore loose denim jeans, a black striped polo shirt, and black Vans. His blonde hair fell into his gorgeous green eyes, and his expression was one of surprise.

"Mrs. Jones, Mr. Blunt," I said stiffly. Mrs. Jones smiled, suddenly all motherly. Mr. Blunt simply nodded.

"Annamay, welcome back," Mrs. Jones said warmly. I graced her with a small grin; she wasn't too bad.

"Yes, Miss Gregorovitch, welcome back from your mission." Blunt sounded bored. "As you might have heard, you are needed on yet another mission. I hope you are ready."

I glanced at the teenager. He met my gaze squarely, and in his eyes, I saw nothing but bewilderment. I stalked up to Blunt's desk, and slammed my hand down on the dark cherry wood, making everyone jump.

"Listen, Blunt," I spat, "I have been on fifteen missions in a row, without any respite, or anything. I have gone from one assignment to another. I haven't had any sleep in three weeks. So, no, I am NOT ready for this assignment." My furious voice resounded throughout the office.

"You will have three weeks to rest up, then," Mr. Blunt said, not at all surprised at my outburst. I glowered at him, not at all impressed by his cool mood.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Mrs. Jones said to the teenager, "Alex, this is your partner for this mission, Annamay Gregorovitch. Annamay, this is Alex Rider." I stared at the handsome blonde boy, and thought of Ian Rider, comparing the two faces. I noticed the same high cheekbones, and the same piercing gaze. Oh, god, he was so hot...

"What is our assignment?" Alex Rider asked. His voice was soft, and yet...commanding. Just like Ian's.

"Your assignment," Mr. Blunt said, "is to infiltrate Sayle Enterprises."

"No," I said, "I'm NOT going back there."

"You don't have a choice," Mr. Blunt said. I ground my teeth in frustration, but said nothing.

"There was a competition in a computer magazine, Disk Drive World," Mrs. Jones continued for Mr. Blunt. "Have you ever read it?"

"No," Alex admitted. I smirked; too bad I was the computer geek this time.

"The first prize was a visit to Sayle Enterprises, to try out the new Stormbreaker," Mr. Blunt cut in, throwing a nasty look at Mrs. Jones. She didn't seem to notice. A picture of the front page of Disk Drive World popped up on the large computer screen, depicting a young man with braces, glasses, and a bad hair cut.

"This youg man's name is Kevin," Mr. Blunt said, a little bit bored. "You will be going in his place."

"One problem," Alex muttered. Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones stared at him blankly. A little suprised, he said, "I look nothing like him." The picture changed; this time, it had a picture of Alex on it, and at his shoulder, of a beautiful young woman with long red hair, and icy gray-blue eyes. That was me, I realized. Was that really what I looked like? I hadn' t looked in a mirror for a while.

"We've spoken to the editor," Mrs. Jones said, smiling. I still didn't get one, itsy-bitsy little detail.

"Where do I fit in to all of this?" I demanded. Mr. Blunt glared at me, his gaze icy.

"The competition allows the winner to take along one friend," he murmured.

"And..." I prompted, knowing I sounded a little impatient.

"You are going as Alex's girlfriend." Just like his name, Mr. Blunt was absolutely...blunt. I stared at him, not comprehending.

"Girlfriend?" I managed to choke out. Alex looked at me, a little startled. Like he couldn't think of anything wrong with that. And I certainly couldn't either; it just sounded a little extreme.

"Annamay, you've got three weeks to recover," Mrs. Jones told me, breaking through my thoughts. "But you, Alex, will be going to training camp."

"I think that's a little unfair," I put in. Alex threw me a grateful glance. "I've been there lots of times; no reason for me not to go now."

"Fine," Mr. Blunt grunted, obviously tired of this conversation. "You can both go. But before you start packing, you might want to the toy shop down the road, and get your gadgets." I nodded. Alex's brilliant green eyes lit up.

"I get gadgets?" he cried. I raised my eyebrows, but said nothing. Of course, I'd been excited to get my first gadgets, too. Mr. Blunt snorted, and then turned to his laptop, which signified the conversastion was now over. I turned toward Alex, walked over to grab his hand, and then pulled him out of the door after me.

"Where are we going?" he asked. I slowed down so that we were walking side by side, although I kept my hand in his.

"We're going to get your gadgets, silly," I said, smiling at him.

"Then what are we waiting for?" he asked as we stopped at the elevator. I cuffed him lightly over the head, already at home with him around.

"The elevator, idiot."