Hey, sorry about the delay. Here's some real story meat for you, hope you enjoy it! As always, please read and review!
The sight of a two-inch thick set of bound A4 sheets did not fill Alex's heart with joy, as it was handed to him across the desk.
"That is all the background information you will need to know for this assignment," Ms. Jones informed him.
"I don't suppose you have an abridged version handy?" Alex asked, staring apprehensively at the hefty collation of documents.
"That is the abridged version," Ms. Jones replied, her face unmoved.
"The drug operation of the Sicilian Families, for want of a better name, is as complex and secretive as it is successful," Alan Blunt began, observing Alex over his spectacles. "As are all their operations, drugs, arms and people. But it is the drug trade that is our particular concern."
"Much time and many resources have been spent attempting to discover the supply and distribution routes and methods of the individuals and groups who control the trade in narcotics, but while our efforts with smaller organizations have yielded some success, the Sicilian Families have evaded our every attempt to infiltrate their operation."
"They are completely hands off, as far as we can tell. None of them are seen within a hundred kilometres of a shipment or order, and anyone who we do catch is either is willing to do the time, or has no idea who owns the product they are selling."
"This process of middle men in narcotics dealing is something no law enforcement agency is equipped to deal with, because there is simply nothing else like it. The only thing that was regulating their operation was Italy's internal control, which confined their activities immeasurably."
"Since the political crisis began, things have only gotten worse. We are suddenly being flooded with illegal narcotics in the UK, as our border and coast guards attempt to fight the surge, but it is an impossible battle, one that is being replicated across the globe."
"So we have gained permission from the country's highest defence authority to undertake whatever action we feel necessary to lessen or ideally halt this flow. Agent Rider, this is where you come in."
Ms. Jones took over here, as Alex listened intently.
"Naturally, we are attempting to use conventional methods to fight the importation of drugs into this country, but we cannot win fighting the drug war like this. We need to collapse the system from the inside."
"In short, Agent Rider, you will be going undercover. Deep, deep undercover, attempting to get as close to the heart of the operation in the south of Italy as you can. This assignment has massive inherent risk factors, and as such, your cover will have to be almost impenetrable."
Alan Blunt chimed in once more.
"We have to stress the uniqueness of this assignment. What we are proposing here is like nothing we have seen since the end of the Cold War, maybe even World War II. We are looking to create the deepest cover imaginable, and essentially utilize your skills as a 'sleeper' in order to work your way inside. There is no operational objective for this mission, somewhat controversially," he added, with a dark look, "on account of the extreme risk factors."
"Instead the agency is seeking knowledge and information about the structure and operation of the organisation, to assist us in further combating their operations. We have, however," Alan Blunt continued in an indicative tone, "provided breathing room for you to undertake action as you see fit."
Ms. Jones' expression darkened almost unnoticeably, but Alex didn't miss it. She had clearly been at odds with her superior over this detail of exactly what the mission objectives were, and she spoke to this end.
"In essence, we are seeking to establish a foothold in the region, an intelligence asset. This is the primary goal. Anything more than this is considered an optional extra."
"A bonus, if you will," Alan Blunt clarified.
"Certainly, in practice, we are not expecting anything in particular in this operation. It is all in your handbook, which, I might add, cannot leave your house after you take it home to study. That is the only copy we have made of the original file, and it must be returned to us so it can be destroyed."
"The procedure is largely hypothetical, and has no time-frame for completion. Frankly, this is completely unlike anything we've done before."
Twenty minutes after Alex left, Tulip Jones and Alan Blunt remained in the main office, the only sound being the slight sucking noise emanating from the slowly dissolving peppermint in Ms. Jones' mouth. They had finished their conversation, and were now waiting for their last visitor of the day to arrive.
The doors of the elevator chimed as they opened, and a portly man in his mid-fifties was revealed, wearing a suit that looked as if the buttons might give way at any second. It was his first time in this office, but he knew the interior of it like the back of his hand. Hours of footage of it observed on internal CCTV from three floors below ensured that much.
Henry Parker was a military psychologist, who had served with the British Army in the Faulklands and advised the US in the second Gulf War. He was experienced, knowledgable, and above all else in MI6's eyes, trustworthy.
Ms. Jones had first recommended he was brought in after Alex's first mission, way back when he was fourteen. Alan Blunt had been more concerned with ensuring that Alex's identity remained a secret than his mental health, and so the idea was scrapped.
That was until Alex wound up facing Damien Cray, coincidentally another drug related mission, although for altogether different purposes. Henry Parker had been enlisted casually for years, but in the preparation for the upcoming assignment in Italy, MI6 had commissioned a study on the youngest operative in their history.
They were seeking a complete psycho-analysis of Alex Rider, from his outward facade to the depths of his mind. They were interested in his resilience, fortitude, comprehension and intuition. These were the identifiable characteristics of an undercover agent, and for the proposed assignment, Alex would have to be at his absolute best, constantly.
"Mr. Parker, take a seat."
The man squeezed himself into the chair that Alex had comfortably resided in before him, and they began to discuss its previous resident.
"Subject RA371 is a truly unique specimen amongst human beings," began the psychologist, flicking through his collated papers.
Henry Parker didn't even know the boys name, his security clearance not even granting him that. So he was simply a code. He didn't know what to think when he'd first seen this kid that they'd asked him to assess, he'd looked barely older than his own son at home.
But the boy had survived seemingly through some seriously un-teenage like situations relatively unharmed physically. Of course, given that he was not allowed audio other than some harmless, MI6 selected snippets of conversation; it was truly hard to judge.
"He appears to be completely disconnected from the world, especially after observing his interactions at his school from the footage I was shown. In any other child, he would be described as extremely mature for his age. However, this is not strictly the case; I believe he simply has no emotional connections, or if so, they are very tenuous."
"He shows little sign of post-traumatic stress disorder, which given my limited knowledge of what he has undergone, is truly remarkable. He holds exacting standards in everything he does in life, which translates well into operational performance."
Ms. Jones couldn't help herself.
"Yes, but how does he manage socially? Is he simply an outcast by nature of what he's seen and done, or is it irreversible?"
"He gains pleasure, as his file shows, from things like playing and watching sports. This is a positive sign for anyone concerned about RA371's mental health and stability."
Even though there were three people in the room, Henry Parker was sure he could safely say only two people fell into that category.
"More importantly," Alan Blunt interrupted quickly, "what about his potential for a spending long period of time in isolation from the agency? How are his resilience levels?"
"In a word? Exceptional. He displays demonstrably that he is mentally stronger than any of your other 'employees' that I've observed. It's almost scary. He shows no signs of being vulnerable to any form of Stockholm Syndrome, if that is what concerns you. " he trailed off, as Blunt nodded his head approvingly.
"Thank you, Mr. Parker, you have been most helpful. If you could leave the full report right where it is, I would appreciate it. We will ensure it is safely added to the file after we have finished reviewing it."
Alex was seated in the back of Mr. Redford's biology class with Tom, manfully willing the clock to tick half a second faster so he could escape the suffocation of Chloroplast's and Cytoplasm's.
It was nearly a week after his meeting at Royal and General, and he had heard nothing more about the assignment. Instead, he had busied himself reading the binder of documents he had been given, which was over seven hundred pages long. His homework had suffered for it, but he cared little. People went to school to get jobs, and he already had one, why bother himself overly with it he thought.
The information in the binder was extremely superficial, and much of it speculation, given how secretive the subject matter was. Still, Alex diligently waded through it, making mental notes of the most important features, such as the hundred pages of known associates, ranked from closest to most distant, and confirmed activities and investigations into the Cosa Nostra and 'Ngrangheta. Of course, most of it was out of date, and little of it could be relied upon to still hold true, but Alex read it anyway. If it pertained to his assignment, he wanted to be aware of it.
He became aware that his pocket was vibrating at him, and he raised his hand in the middle of one of Mr. Redford infamous spiels about cell reproduction, and without waiting to be addressed, he requested to go to the toilet.
"Rider, the end of the day is only minutes away, surely you can wait?"
"Sorry sir," he replied, standing up, "when you've gotta go, you've gotta go."
The words pained him as they rolled off his tongue, but he made it out of the door unchallenged, and picked up his phone with his free hand, readjusting the books which he'd slipped out underneath his jacket so Mr. Redford didn't notice. He had an idea he wasn't going to be coming back from his 'toilet break'.
"Rider speaking."
"Agent Rider," came the unmistakeably bland voice of Alan Blunt, "there is a car waiting for you at the front gates. Your presence is required."
Alex smiled as he jogged to his locker to deposit his books. He had a feeling school textbooks were the last thing he would be needing, although he was wondering exactly what he would be needing. It seemed a little sudden and unplanned for the supposedly vital Italy assignment. It was not his to wonder why, he mused, it was only his to do or die.
The black sedan with the illegally dark tinting was indeed waiting for him, and he hopped inside. As soon as he was seated, his phone rang once more, as the car pulled away speedily.
"Agent Rider, you are being taken to the RAF base at Weston-on-Green, to the north-west. Waiting for your arrival is your former SAS unit, identification letter: K, who you will be operating with on this assignment."
"You are flying on a C-17 Globemaster III which is on-route to Afghanistan. However, it will be making a stop to deposit you and the members of K-Unit at RAF Gibraltar while it refuels. Further instructions lie in the folder on the back seat of the vehicle you are currently travelling in, familiarise yourself with the necessary details. Oh, and Agent Rider?"
"Yes sir?"
"Do come back in one piece. The Italy assignment is about to be green-lit, and I wouldn't want to have to postpone it for any reason."
"Yes sir."
The folder was not particularly thick, but Alex was under no illusions. This was no walk in the park.
On the news the previous week, he'd seen a story on the BBC about the disappearance of a British diplomat working on border of Tunisia and Libya, attempting to negotiate a peace settlement for the Libyan citizens who had fled the civil war, under the terms of the combined NATO and United Nations agreement.
The diplomat, Jeremy Mendelssohn, along with all his aides and advisors who he had brought with him, had disappeared, provoking a desperate reaction from the government. A few days later, footage emerged, along with a ransom demand, calling for all those convicted in association with the 2005 London Bombings be released in exchange for the diplomat and his aides lives.
The English government quickly ruled out this idea, and the saga had been playing out on television for the entire week. And now it was right in front of him, with an A4 page dedicated to each hostage, a map of the compound where they had been located only hours before, and a plan. The offer ran out within 24 hours, and there was no doubt the kidnappers would follow through on their execution threat. They were idealist extremists who sought political gains, not monetary ones.
Jeremy Mendelssohn was a popular figure within the ruling party, however, and a personal friend of David Atherton, the Prime Minister. Alex was in no doubt as to where the pressure for this mission was coming from. He was fairly sure that if an ardent supporter of the opposition was in the same position, there would have been considerably more reluctance to impinge upon another nation's sovereignty.
Alex's first query as to why his involvement was required, but it quickly became clear; the plan was a basic bait and switch tactic, a diversion of the crudest form. Alex would play the bait, distracting the guards long enough to allow the SAS men to approach the compound from the rear. It sounded like a tactical plan made up by a kid playing a computer game, but it was all right there in front of him on the page. He sighed to himself resignedly. Here we go again, he thought, as the car swung through the open gates of the RAF base.
Not really a cliff-hanger, but I'm excited to see Alex in action! Cause you know he's going to do his thing, like he always does. Hope the politics didn't wear too thin, I think it adds realism to the story but maybe that's just me. Also, I should add a disclaimer, while I try to use real objects, places and people as much as possible; a lot of this is a figment of my imagination. So don't go using this in your school politics class, or else my schools politics teacher will murder me. You know she'll hear about it, too. That's also a disclaimer, none of my OC's are meant to represent real people...much. Anyway, please review, leave me your suggestions and comments, because you know I'll read them all!