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Chapter 2

'Where have you found him?' Mrs. Jones asked her deputy.

'We got an anonymous call to search in an old warehouse at the harbor. There we found seventeen bodies, all men, clothed in black suits and black sunglasses. They fitted the description of a killer commando which had recently wiped out all evidences from the plane crash four days ago.'

'And Alex was there, too?' she asked in disbelief.

'Yes, he had obviously been tortured and he was found unconscious. He now is in hospital but is still unconscious. His condition is stable and the doctors suggest that he'll wake up within the next twenty-four hours.' Mrs. Jones nodded.

She had no idea how this could happen and who made this happen but she was sure that Alex could never carry on his life like that. He would be hunted to death and she did not want to get so far.

He needed to become someone new, unknown. A new identity was all he needed now.

'Are you sure?' she asked and looked around. Nobody noticed her, she was one of thousand, standing in the crowd of the airport, she has just arrived in Washington.

'Absolutely' the voice from the other side of the phone connection answered. 'He should get some time to get used to his environment.'

'Just make sure that he doesn't get into any trouble.'

'I'll do…How are you recovering?'

'I miss the old times. It will never be like before.'

'Does Blunt suspect anything?'

'He is retired.'

'That was not my question.'

The man laughed. 'No, neither Blunt nor Jones are suspecting anything.'

'Your father has spoken.'

'Nobody is knowable about my existence. My father has never told them about me and he does not know my plan. But he knows that my only goal is to revenge him and Scorpia. And I will do so' the man, the son of Zeljan Kurst said.

He was in hiding since his father has been arrested with the last words to his son, ordering him to do vengeance. His son accepted the challenge and thankfully used the preparation his father has done: Gathering weapons such as Yassen, Jack and Julius.

So now, already having changed his name to Keith Collins, he was in an unknown country of Europe, calling his most trustful disciple who he had ordered to take direct care of Alex himself.

'Good luck with it' she sighed and ended the phone call. She took her rolling case and her rucksack and entered American soil.

Alex hadn't responded to anything. He had just sit there and listened to Mrs. Jones. She had tried to be kind but it was difficult because he didn't show any emotion or reaction. She hasn't even been sure if he had been listening.

He seemed not to be there, kind of. He stared into nowhere, didn't want to participate to life anymore. She knew that it was best for him to go to a complete new environment where he knew nobody and nobody knew him.

He needed to get away from the dangers and fears of his life and started a new one. This was what she had thought when she gave him the name Alex Doyle and sent him to Washington North High in DC.

He had missed a lot in classes last year and she sent him to tenth class, he would have the whole summer vacation for practicing.

One week he needed to gather the rest of his things, pack them and take a flight to the USA which wasn't going to end with a crash landing in the water. A taxi driver brought him to an orphanage in which Mrs. Jones had wanted to send him. It was especially for children between thirteen and twenty, when they were still visiting school or doing a low paid job formation.

He was not very enthusiastic when he entered the sad house. There were three leaders, two women and one man and Alex was sent to the third and highest floor. He was glad that it was very modern there and that he had his little own room. There was a loft bed, a couch and above it the bed, two cupboards, a big one for his clothes and a small one for books and similar stuff.

A tiny window and in front of it a desk. There were about two more square meters where he could freely stand but he was glad to have anything at all. He unpacked his luggage and stored it in the cupboard.

He hesitated when he took out a postcard from Paris. He turned it around, there was something scribbled on there, and there was a blurred little red point on it, indicating the room he had once searched, he decided that the postcard wouldn't hurt and put it into one of his books and stored it in the cupboard. He was nearly finished when someone knocked on his door.

'Come in' he said politely, but in a neutral voice. Life was unimportant anymore, why did he exist? He looked up when a girl entered the room.

'Hey, I'm Sasha. I arrived three days ago and I'm knew here, too' she said smilingly and they shook hands.

'I'm Alex' he answered.

'You're British, right?'

'Yes. You have an accent, too…right?'

'Yep, my father was actually Russian' she admitted.

Sudden images of Yassen Gregorovich appeared in front of Alex' eyes. He felt numb for a second, everything got blurry, he saw the dead body, or at least, believed dead body of the Russian hatchet man lying next to him, the plane, it was too fast, Sabina, she was dead, too.

'And your mother?'

'German. But I never really got her to know. She left my father one year after I was born. And my father didn't want to care for me for long either.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.'

'What about you, Alex?' she asked and they both sat down on the 'couch', a mattress that belonged to the bed with a blanket on it.

Alex blinked, he remembered how he opened the door, seeing the blue light from the police vans, knowing that something terrible has happened. He entered the MI5 office once more, saw Mr. Blunt's face and didn't believe what he spoke, that his uncle had been a spy. His father, a paid hit man, a lie, he had been undercover as well. He didn't want to live through all this again and told the story of another boy, the life story of Alex Doyle.

'My mother died in a car crash ten years ago and my father was killed during a bank robbery two years later. I haven't had any more relatives.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, Alex.'

Right in that moment, another boy, Greg, fourteen came in, and told them that dinner was ready.

Sasha took Alex' hand and led him downstairs where he encountered his new family, wondering how long he would have to stay here but being glad, that they all welcomed them.

They welcomed Alex Doyle, not Alex Rider, because Alex Rider was already lost, unreachable lost in Alex' body and waited for someone who was going to find him.

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