It was nine o' clock in the evening, and the sun was already down

Authors Note:

Soooooo….Sorry for the super long wait peoples!! don't hit me!

First the internet was down, and then there was end of term and then Easter and revision (which I still have)….and basically an endless stream of things preventing me from doing this.

Not to mention writers block.

Unfortunately, this chapter is a tad … uneventful – but you never know… we see Jack and Tom again : )

I have to say, I have masses of revision to do for my upcoming GCSE's so updates will be few and far between. Sorry.

Thanks especially to my Beta – CunningMascara, and the only three people who reviewed chapter six; Gold Is Power, Rose-Aislin, and Jusmine!

Disclaimer: I don't think the lawsuit is worth me saying I own Alex Rider...

It was nine o' clock in the evening, and the sun was already down. A young, red haired woman was slumped against a cold stone wall, staring intently at the small barred window, through which the dying sun could just be seen.

The window had been carefully placed; high enough to be well out of reach, but low enough to tease the prisoner with the prospect of freedom. What was even crueler was the glass; bullet proof and one way, with thick bars made of one of the strongest steel alloys. No one would see her. There was no escape.

The cell was one of many, the prisoners didn't know it, but they were actually in an 'abandoned' prison – specially adapted for Viper's needs. The cells were reinforced, the weak window glass and the corroded iron bars had been replaced, the halls had closed circuit cameras transmitting constantly, and twenty armed guards with trained dogs patrolled the perimeter - with back up close by. Even Britain's most dangerous operatives wouldn't be able to escape them – and that was the point.

Currently, the prison only held three prisoners: the red haired American; a young, dark haired boy; and a man who had found out too much about Viper and had been foolish enough to attempt blackmail. They would have killed him, but people like this man were often useful – eventually.

Tom was lying on the thin material that vaguely resembled a mattress. It was only half a foot off the floor, and a meter away from what passed as a toilet. When he had first arrived at his cell – and had the thick blindfold removed – he had been both frightened and disgusted. The ceiling looked mouldy and what little light came from the tiny window shone on the grim, stained toilet and the rusty sink. When it was dark, he had shied away from using the bed; it wasn't something he was used to or wanted to be used to. It barely looked fit for vermin, but that was another matter; he was sure that in this dump, they had plenty of room to hide.

Now, he was thankful for the meager bed, and even for the toilet and the sink. Even though only a few days had passed, he understood that they didn't have to give his a toilet, or even a sink, and a bed was something that could easily be substituted. He was still terrified, but surviving came first.

He hadn't formally met his kidnappers, but he was sure that they were involved with Alex. If he was right then they would want him alive. He wasn't aware of any other kidnappings and he didn't dare ask one of the guards about what was going on. He knew that as long as he was quiet and didn't attempt to escape, he would be left alone.

He had already been warned that the sandwiches he got twice a day could easily be taken away if he was rude or provoked the guards in any way. But if he tried to escape the punishment was either torture or death. It wasn't worth it.

Alex was all too aware of the time. Jack had promised to be back for dinner, and she had never broken a promise. Nonetheless, Alex was happy to cook dinner for himself and the unit, as long as Jack had a good time – it wasn't often that she went out with her friends.

He had surprised K-Unit by preparing roast potato with stuffed turkey. It didn't matter that the turkey had come pre-prepared and stuffed since none of K-Unit had even thought of preparing food, let alone cooking it.

At one point, when Alex was still boiling the potatoes Eagle had come into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway observing the teenager prepare the food in silent wonder. It seemed as though Cub had many more talents than he had previously realised. Though, all of K-Unit—along with most SAS units that knew him—knew that there was more to Cub than met the eye. He had stood in the doorway for six or seven minutes when Alex suddenly turned on him and, jokingly, demanded that he was to wash the dishes if he was going to hang around in the kitchen.

Now, after finishing the meal, Alex and K-Unit sat around the kitchen table.

"Hey, Cub—why didn't you say you could cook?" prodded Eagle.

"I mean, we had to put up with those rations and meal packets when you could have whipped up some eggs Benedict or something!"
Even Wolf looked impressed, "I have to say kid that was a mighty good meal. But," he paused "didn't your housekeeper…"
"Jack," Alex interrupted. He hated people calling her his housekeeper.
"…Right—Jack, well didn't she say she'd be back before now?" Wolf questioned.

Alex narrowed his eyes, he didn't like where this was going. "She's probably just having a good time…" Alex stated feebly. He knew that it was unlikely as Jack, whilst not always punctual, never forgot about him. But he didn't want to think about what could happen—especially considering what was going on with Viper.

Seeing Alex's troubled expression, Ben intervened. He could see where the conversation was going and knew that Alex wouldn't like it—but it was something that had to be said. Wolf just probably wasn't the right person to say it. He was a good leader, but he wasn't especially sensitive.

"Alex, if Jack isn't back soon—we're going to have to raise the alarm. We can't take any chances. She doesn't strike me as the sort of woman who stays out late getting drunk; even if she is with a friend."
"I know." Alex admitted quietly, his voice laced with anger, "but if they have got her, then you can't stop me. I'm the only one who can do this; again."
He didn't elaborate on what he meant. He didn't have to. Too often had people's lives rested on his shoulders and too often had he been faced with no options.

Alex wasn't stupid enough to blame himself. But he did blame MI6, even if only a little. But that wasn't why he was angry with them. First Tom and now Jack; Viper meant business and MI6 weren't taking them seriously enough. As far as Alex knew, they weren't even trying to find them.

The members of K-Unit exchanged worried glances. There was very little they could say or do, short of tying him up or locking him away, to change Alex's mind.

A middle-aged woman, with dark hair and even darker eyes, popped another peppermint in her mouth. Sucking a peppermint calmed her down; it gave her something to do.

Right now, she was anything but calm. They had been in contact with both Viper and Scorpia, but not the Triads. They was no negotiating; they wanted Alex, and the kidnapping wouldn't stop till they had him.

Mrs. Jones was aware that they had now kidnapped the American woman, with a name she just couldn't remember, that stayed with Alex. It was only a matter of time before Alex decided to track her down and save her. He was emotional like that; maybe it was what made him so good at what he did. He felt things that most other, more experienced operatives didn't.

Dragging herself back to the task at hand, she walked forward and briskly knocked on the office door in front of her.

"Enter," came the almost lifeless voice of the head of MI6—Alan Blunt.

Mrs. Jones opened the door and walked confidently into the office. As usual, Mr. Blunt didn't even look up as she entered. She would wait until he was ready.

As head of the Special Operations division, it was her job to report significant, confidential developments to the man in charge, and the information she had with her was most definitely significant.

Eventually, the man sitting at his desk raised his head. Dark, cold eyes, set
in almost gray skin, looked out from behind a pair of glasses.

"Yes?"

"Sir, we have information about Vipers location."

Alex lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. It was half ten and Jack still hadn't returned, but now Alex didn't expect her too. He had now accepted that, having not handed himself over, he was paying the price. Or rather, Jack was paying the price for him.

He was sick of it. Until now, he had been the one in charge – MI6 had made him do what they wanted and now they were saying no. Unbelievable.
He made up his mind. He knew what he was going to do, and nothing would make
him change his mind. Setting his alarm, he got into bed and closed his eyes.

--

A shrill, beeping noise roused Alex from his sleep. It took him a moment to remember why he was getting up at four AM but when he did Alex leapt soundlessly from his bed and hurried over to his wardrobe.

After dressing in dark clothing, (black stood out too much) Alex gathered up the equipment, including the remnants of Smithers' 'zit cream' and an old pocket knife.

Looking out of his small bedroom window, Alex saw that the sun was just starting to rise, providing the perfect conditions for what he was about to attempt.

Alex checked over his equipment, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything, and went over to his bedroom door. Easing it open, he quickly poked his head into the corridor. The last thing he wanted was to get caught by Snake or, even worse… Wolf.

Authors note:

Okay, so it's not very long but… If you want me to continue then you're going to have to review. Three isn't inspiring… and I have other stuff to do.

You don't have to write much, but you could suggest improvements, stuff you want to happen, what you think Alex could be up to … anything really.

Click the review button…you know you want to…