DISCLAIMER: I don't own Alex Rider

Alex squeezed himself out of the skylight, his whole body aching for some unknown reason. He pulled himself upright on the rooftop, glancing around. The roof he was on slanted only slightly, as did the roof directly opposite him. Standing carefully, he slid closer to the edge so he could see how far above the ground he was. His head swam as he saw the five story drop and he quickly scrambled away from the guttering.

Alex took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He had to get off this roof and away from the building – away from the people inside it too. He didn't remember much about what had happened while he was inside the building. His only memories were from the moment after the boy had woken him. Alex didn't know why he was wearing the white crew shirt or the white shorts. He didn't know why his skin prickled all over or why his vision blurred every now and then. All he knew was that the boy had ordered him to get out of the building using any way but the obvious exits.

So he had. Resting on the roof, Alex leaned back to glance into the skylight again.

He remembered hurrying out of a nondescript room and into a hallway, the boy going in a different direction after whispering something of great importance into his ear. Alex had heard the boy clearly but didn't understand what the words meant.

"…wish that you never messed with Nikolei Drevin."

Alex shuddered as he heard the voice. His eyes widened as he stared into the skylight. He may not remember much but he remembered that voice. A voice he'd not heard in a long time and had thought never to hear again – and was glad of it. But there was no doubt about who spoke as the words drifted up to him. They sounded close, but Alex couldn't see anyone.

Filled with a sudden desire to get away from the voice, Alex stood and without a further thought, ran down the slope of the roof and launched himself across the void between the two buildings. His hands were flung out in front of him and he crashed into the tiles on the neighbouring roof, gripping on tightly to whatever he could.

Once he'd regained his footing, Alex scurried across the roof. He straddled the apex and surveyed the area he was in. It was foreign to him. He didn't recognise any of the streets that branched away from the one he was in, nor could he find any identifiable landmarks. Biting his lip, he began searching for a path away from the next door building.

Some instinct took over and within seconds, he had memorised a route out. As he slid down the other side of the roof, the one furthest from the building he'd just escaped, he wondered about the boy. He hoped he'd managed to get away so that he could thank him and ask him what he'd meant by his parting words.

Squatting in the gutter of the roof, Alex took a firm hold of the flimsy metal and swung himself over the edge, so that he was dangling in thin air, suspended only by his hands gripping the gutter. He quickly glanced to his right then his left and finally spotted it, just as the metal gutter groaned under his weight. He had to keep moving or else he'd fall and land heavily on nothing but cement. So he sidled over to the down pipe and grabbed on tightly.

As silently as he could, he lowered himself down the drain pipe, wincing every time the rusting metal bit into his skin. When he was a meter from the ground, he released his hold on the pipe and dropped, landing lightly on his feet, like a cat. Then he took off at a run, following some instinct that he couldn't name.

***

The boy, a seventeen year old by the name of Weston Harper, stared defiantly up at Nikolei Drevin, his hands balled into fists so that the man wouldn't see them shaking. He had been tied tightly to a chair in Drevin's office, his wrists and ankles already going numb.

"Why are you here Wes?" Drevin demanded.

He had dismissed his guards the moment he was sure that the boy was secured sufficiently. The two were alone and neither was happy about being in the presence of the other.

The boy swallowed down a lump in his throat and answered.

"Somebody had to get Alex out of here and hide your stupid weapon."

"But why you? Shouldn't you be at school?"

Wes shook his head. "Nah, mum doesn't mind. She's happy as long as you're not going to get away with whatever you're planning."

Drevin growled at the reference to the boy's mother. He knew that his ex-wife had remarried and that her new husband had brought his only child from a previous relationship into the family, giving his son Paul a step brother. And here he sat, Gavin Harper's – CIA explosives extraordinaire – only biological son.

"Where did you take my weapon Wes?" Drevin asked.

Wes watched as the man who had been presumed dead until two days ago filled a glass with wine. As Drevin sipped it casually, he watched the boy opposite him. He'd never seen the boy before but he had all of his father's good looks. Wes's dark brown hair was spiky and his skin was a soft caramel colour, which complimented his chocolate brown eyes.

Stubbornly, Wes kept his gaze on Drevin, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He didn't say a word.

"Weston," Drevin said in a soft warning tone. "This is not advisable."

Wes shrugged. He just hoped that Alex had managed to get himself away from this town and into a safe area where he could stay out of trouble.

"Well if you're not going to tell me where you've taken my weapon then may I ask where Alex Rider has gone."

"You can ask, but don't expect an answer," Wes replied.

Drevin took another sip of wine then placed it down on his desk. Slowly he stood and walked around until he was standing in front of his prisoner. Drevin lent back on his desk, surveying the boy. He looked scared but defiant. It shouldn't be too hard to crack him, he thought.

"Do you know where he is going?"

"Isn't that the same question?" Wes stated.

Drevin shook his head. "I think that you told him to go somewhere that would be far away from here. And do you want to know why I think that?"

"No."

Drevin went on anyway. "I think you told him to hide himself because he knows where the weapon is. And all you know is that the weapon is with Rider. You don't actually know where Rider is taking the weapon; you just want to buy him time to get away with it."

Wes didn't say anything but just looked at Drevin as though he was bored. Inside his heart was bumping wildly at the man's accurate guess. But if he wanted to live, Wes knew that he must make it look as though Drevin had guessed wrong.

He knew that Drevin would have already sent a team of his best to get Alex back and while he was a prisoner, there wasn't much he could do to help Rider. He just had to hope that Rider still had as much luck and skill as he'd had four years ago when he'd first been recruited by MI6. And Wes was not going to sit around being the perfect picture of compliance; he would find a way of helping Rider from this side, even if it killed him.

Hope you like it so far! Please review as it will encourage me to write faster!! Thanks for the support though…