Summary: This fanfiction replaced the chapter in Snakehead when the SAS infiltrate Dragon Nine. The SAS landed on the helipad, but Alex was blown off by a gust of wind. The SAS proceeded to hunt down and find the system that was lowering the Royal Blue bomb into the seabed.
They met up with Alex, but were separated by a grenade after crossing the bridging walkway to the drilling platform where Alex thinks the control room is.
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Alex had been standing off-balance when the grenade exploded, so he landed on his side. Shrapnel, sharp and small, had bruised Alex in several places, but, luckily, the outfit he was wearing was similar to the ski suit from Point Blanc Academy- light and difficult to pierce. It was lucky Smithers had had some of it ready for Alex. He was otherwise uninjured.
He heard alarmed voices nearby- meaning an enemy on the platform's edge- so he stood and sprinted in the other direction in a zig-zag pattern. A bullet whizzed by his ear before he turned the corner, taking a few strands of hair with it.
Fortunately, the control room was also in that direction. Alex found a ladder and scaled it quickly- the control was higher up, if he remembered correctly, on the third or fourth floor. There was another ladder near the top of the one Alex just climbed, so Alex scrambled to the third floor. The control room was on the fourth, and there were guards that were walking along the corridor.
Alex looked around. To his right was a large crane. Alex, ready with a plan, took off towards the crane and hopped into the cockpit and found himself to be a lucky boy- the machine was still on. Carefully, he played with the joysticks until he understood how to operate the crane. The arm swung over the control room, and the hook descended until it was right outside of the door. Amazingly, the guards didn't notice, occupied by the SAS men and Ben's gunfire.
Alex stepped outside and looked up at the guards on the fourth floor. The two men were walking- and facing- away from the control room. Despite the alarm, they apparently were to continue patrolling. Alex grinned.
Quickly, he pulled himself onto the roof of the crane and began to climb up the metal arm. It had 3 large beams that ran the whole length, supported by smaller supports that zig-zagged. The crane creaked softly in the night air.
The beams were easy to grab. He could slide down the crane's rope at the other end. But, Alex forgot one thing.
He was carrying the guard's walkie talkie.
As Alex reached the rope and was thus over the control room's entrance, a voice blared through the walkie talkie. "Gregory, get your lazy butt over here, ASAP!"
Alex froze to see if anyone had heard. Someone did. He could see a vague shadow below look up and raise an arm. Metal clinked next to him, accompanied by a gunshot.
Quickly, Alex pretended to pull the antenna out of the walkie talkie with exaggerated movements, and then he threw it as hard as he could at the guard who tried to shoot him. It had the intended effect- the guard ran for cover, thinking the walkie talkie was a grenade.
Alex slid down the rope and dropped quietly onto the doorstep of what he thought was the control room.
What time was it? Alex didn't have a watch; what if he was too late, or just in time? Somewhere in his head, he noted that the gunshots had quieted. Who won?
Alex had to go in alone.