Thanks for all the positive response!
Just to point out, if Snake was more worried about Alex's bullet wound than his fresh wounds, it was because he had already tended to his fresh wounds. I know it wasn't very clear, but, hey, I was writing it at 12:23 last night.
Sorry for any other confusion.
Disclaimer: Do not own, never will own.
Alan Blunt adjusted his tie, the only sign that he was nervous. He was about to go up onto a stage and tell millions- no, billions- of people across the globe about everything that was Agent Rider. Fun.
He was not a fan of public speaking, and would much rather be back, safe and sound, in the bullet-proof, sound-proof, bomb-proof box that was his office.
"...and now, here to talk in person about the teenage marvel that is Alex Rider,Alan Blunt, the head of MI6!"
There was applause, and Blunt, recognising his cue, stepped onto the stage and up behind the podium. At once, reporters shoved questions in his face.
"Mr. Blunt, Mr. Blunt, what brought you to use Alex Rider for this undoubtedly risky job?"
"He was trained well, and perfectly capable of handling the task."
"Mr. Blunt, is MI6 in any way responsible for his death?"
"We accept that we are, in an indirect way, responsible, but he got careless and made a foolish mistake."
"Mr. Blunt, how was he made to work for you? Certain sources say it was blackmail, is this true?"
Blunt looked around furiously (but discreetly). Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of black hair and blue eyes glaring ferociously back at him. He scowled. Harris, aka 'certain sources'.
"No, MI6 is a force of good. We would never blackmail one of our own. We simply persuaded him by telling him all the lives he could save. He said yes. In return, we helpfully supplied his guardian with the Visa she needed to stay here."
"Mr. Blunt, is it possible that Rider survived?"
"No. No one could have survived that bomb. The base he was held in had the most advanced security money can buy, or rather, assassins can steal, and one would need several security codes to escape. He wouldn't have been able to get out before the bomb went off. Our agent was lucky, but not that lucky."
The questions continued for another half-hour or so. Some were quite tricky, but Alan Blunt wasn't the head of MI6 for nothing. He could lie his way out of anything.
Meanwhile, in the background, Ms. Jones was calling in a retrieval unit, to go pick up K-unit. She had sent them in just to make sure that Alex wasn't alive, but as they hadn't tried to communicate, she assumed that they had found nothing. She was quite sad; she had grown attached to the boy.
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The hum of a helicopter cut through the silence, and there was a collective sigh of relief. K-unit just wanted to get away from this place; far too many mosquitoes.
"Cub, wake up! Our ride's here," Wolf called from across the room. Alex groaned and sat up. The pain killer Snake had given him yesterday had worn off, and the medic hadn't been able to treat his wound properly without the right supplies. Thankfully his injuries weren't that bad, but they would certainly scar. Especially the marks from the whip on his back, and the knife wound running from his temple and ending in line with his lips. Honestly, as if a bullet scar wasn't enough.
Lion, the smallest of the unit, had let Alex use some of his spare clothes, as the boy's own clothes were in tatters.
"Thanks," Alex said as Snake tossed him an apple. It was old and bruised, but Alex was starving; the mush that Scorpia had the nerve to call food hadn't been very appetising.
The sound of the helicopter was getting louder and louder, until it reached an almost unbearable level, before cutting out completely.
"Let's go!" barked Wolf. Alex was about to step outside before hesitating. This action didn't go unnoticed.
"It'll be fine," said Eagle, "I can guarantee that everyone will forget about Alex Rider: Teenage Spy in a couple o' months. And even if they don't, you can always barricade yourself in your house with a grenade launcher, before crossing the Mexican border dressed in women's clothing."
Everyone stared at him.
"What?" Eagle said defensively, "I lead an interesting life."
"Er... Right," said Wolf, "Now get into the helicopter before I throw you! I want to get away from this place!"
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Alex took a deep, calming breath. They had managed to get hold of a radio in the helicopter and had informed Blunt and Jones the Alex was okay. Now, in the space of the eight hour flight home, the entire world knew that the teenage spy was alive and kicking.
Alex and K-unit were on their way to the Royal and General Bank. They were driving a vehicle with darkened windows, so no-one knew it was really Alex, but the driver kept staring at him in the rear view mirror, and Alex found it unnerving. Usually people only stared at him that intently when they were about to shoot him.
Needless to say it was a relief to get out of the car.
Alex was pleased that no one had cornered him about his 'job', but knew it wouldn't last.
Sure enough, as he stepped up to the bank doors (glancing over his shoulder to make extra-sure there were no snipers) there was a shout of, "ALEX RIDER?" and everyone on the street turned his way. Alex cursed himself for not putting his hood up.
Luckily, before anyone could descend upon him, he was yanked through the revolving doors of the bank by Wolf.
"I was hoping that I be left in peace for at least a little longer," muttered Alex, before striding up to the reception desk.
"I'm here to see Blunt and Jones." No greetings necessary.
The lady at the desk seemed to jump slightly when she saw who it was, but quickly hid her emotions behind an expressionless mask.
"I'm sorry, sir, there are no people here with those names. Maybe you have the wrong building?"
Alex scowled, then leaned forward threateningly, both hands on the desk. "I wish I had the wrong building. I just spent two weeks in hell. The two people I hate most have exposed my secret to the world without my authorization. I will speak to them now."
The receptionist made a strangled squeaking sound in her throat, before composing herself.
"Right this way sir."
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"GET OFF OUR LAWN!" exploded Jack. Alex had just come back from an exhausting debriefing with Jones and Blunt, explaining how he had escaped from the base. When they were finally finished with him, and he had had a nice little rant about them exposing him, he had returned home. All he wanted to do was sit down and watch a nice movie with Jack. But it seemed he couldn't even leave the car, as there were a pack of about thirty reporters waiting for him outside his house.
They were now crowded around the car, and the driver was desperately try to protect his paint job. Finally, Alex snapped.
"LISTEN UP!" he bellowed, "I'M TIRED, I'M SORE, AND I JUST WANT TO GET TO MY HOUSE! I'VE GOT A GRENADE LAUNCHER AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!"
That cleared them up pretty quickly.
Jack practically crushed Alex's lungs in the death grip that was her hug. "I was SO worried about you! Alex John Rider, if you ever do that again I will KILL you!"
"I missed you too."
"Come on, inside, before those piranhas come back." Jack quickly ushered her ward inside.
Alex flopped down on the couch and stuck his feet up on the coffee table. Jack promptly smacked them away.
"What movie are we watching?" asked Alex.
Jack looked worried. "Are you sure you want to watch anything? You look exhausted."
"I'm sure. I just need to get away from it all for a bit."
Jack nodded her understanding, and decided to lighten his mood with a comedy. Eventually, they decided on 'Just Go with It'.
They watched the movie without much interruption, only pausing once to close all the curtains when the reporters tried to climb through the windows.
After the movie, Jack tucked Alex in, something she hadn't done in a long time. As she turned the lights off, something came to mind.
"Alex?"
"Hm?" he grunted
"Are- are you going to school on Monday?"
Alex sat up, wide awake. He bit his lip. "I don't, Jack. I was thinking about it last night... I think I should go. I mean, I should just get it over with, right? At least they won't call me 'Druggie' anymore."
Jack was confused at his logic, but smiled. Trust Alex to look on the bright side.
"Well, it's only Saturday, so you've got another twenty four hours to relax. Maybe ask Tom over tomorrow?"
Alex grinned. "Cool."
"Now try to get some rest. No doubt those idiots camping in our front garden will have whole new ways to antagonize us. It's still quite early; I'll give Tom a call and ask him to come tomorrow."
"Thanks Jack, you're the best."
"Night, Alex."
She got no reply; the spy was already asleep.
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Yawning, Alex stretched, got out of bed, and went to look out the window... And fell over backwards when someone looked back at him.
Scowling, he stomped into the en suite bathroom, grabbed the cup he used to rinse out his mouth and filled it with water. You can guess what happened next.
Satisfied, Alex closed the blinds on his window and went downstairs.
"Mornin', Jack," he said, taking out the cereal, milk and a bowl, before sitting down. "Can Tom come over today?"
"Yup," Jack replied, seemingly distracted. She was reading the newspaper, which was what alerted Alex. Jack never read the newspaper.
"What is it?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. Sure enough, his face was plastered across the front page. "TEENAGE SPY!" screamed the title.
Alex groaned.
"Oh, that's not the half of it," fumed Jack. Dragging Alex to the TV room, she gestured to the piles of newspapers, each one with the same message: 'Mini James Bond Among Us! , MI6's Greatest Weapon!', and 'Fifteen Year Old Spy!'.
Alex flopped onto the couch, head in hands. "When's Tom coming?" was all he could manage.
"He should be here any minute."
Exactly ten minutes later, Tom was fighting his way through the sea of reporters and ringing the doorbell.
"Alex!" he exclaimed in delight, punching his best friend's shoulder. "Knew you were alive all along!"
Alex grinned, and allowed Tom to drag him upstairs. As soon as they got to his room, Tom shoved Alex into the desk chair.
"You have to tell me everything! What happened, who captured you, how you escaped, the works!"
So Alex told him. They spent a good two hours just talking, before Jack called them down for lunch. After eating, they went outside and played football for a while, until the reporters came to the back. They spent the rest of the day watching movies, playing Wii and darts, and joking around with Jack.
It was about four o'clock, and Tom was about to leave, when Alex was hit by a brainwave. "Tom, I know how to rid of the reporters."
He leant over and whispered the idea in his friend's ear. A grin spread across his face.
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Fifteen minutes later, the teenagers were ready. Grinning at one another, they opened the front door. At once the journalists and cameramen were upon them, but Tom held a hand in the universal symbol for 'stop'. Confused, the reporters did just that.
Alex walked into the middle of the lawn, knelt down, and drove a small wooden peg into the ground. Then he got up and repeated the process. By the time he was done, seventeen little stakes were spread evenly across the lawn.
Task completed, he went back to stand next to Tom, admiring his work.
"That should do it," he announced, dusting of his hands. "Are you sure that's were all of them are?"
Tom grinned maliciously. "Yup, I'm certain. Shall we go turn them on?"
Alex's grin was, if possible, more malicious. "We shall."
"Excuse me, but what are you talking about?" asked a bold reporter.
"Oh, we're just trying to figure out where the minefields are before we activate them," said Tom airily, waving a hand in the air. Then he put on a look of mild concern. "I hope you guys can run fast; these things are pretty powerful."
The lawn cleared so quickly, it was as if a bomb really had gone off.
Laughing so hard that tears were running down their cheeks, the boys said their goodbyes, and Tom left.
As Alex was getting into bed that night, he thought, 'At least some things don't change.'
Lame ending, I know. But, hey, this is the most I've ever written. So please, REVIEW!
Next Chapter: SCHOOL