Hey peeps! So first of all, I'm sorry it took me two months to update, but I've been really busy. I also had no clue how to do this chapter until about a week ago. However, the creative juices have been rolling and I should have another up soon if all goes to plan. If not, then I'm sorry twice over.

Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story and to the people who reviewed the last chapter!

I do not own Alex Rider.

The grey man was quiet as he broke into the agent's office. As he slipped through the wooden door and closed it quietly, he glanced at the clock on the desk. 05:07. He nodded in satisfaction as he approached the large oak desk. His black cost sleeves rustled as they moved., pulling open the top drawer. There was no computer; the age t didn't want to risk a cyber attack. The grey man was silent as be flipped through file after file, his photokinetic memory remembering everything.

He finished scanning files quickly. Standing from his crouched position, his eyes landed on a photo. It was of a small boy with blonde hair. There was a large smile on his face; he was beaming in delight. But what really caught the grey man's attention were the brown eyes. They were like chocolate mint; warm and smooth and sparkling with laughter. Any other person would have a smile brought to their lips, but his turned down into a scowl. That boy had a happy life; one unmarred by terror and gore and blood and fear and the secret that his father kept.

The grey man's thoughts were interrupted by a vibration on his left wrist. Glancing down, he saw that his watch read 05:45. The agent would be arriving in fifteen minutes. The grey man moved towards the door, opened it, and walked away.

The next time the grey man saw the boy, it was in real life and only a few weeks later. The child was dressed in a tiny black suit and clung to his uncle, hiding his face from the world.

The regular pleasantries were exchanged and the uncle - another agent - shook the boy softly."Can you say hi? Can you say hi, buddy?"

The boy hiccuped and shook his head. In the process though, the grey man caught a glimpse of his eyes. Instead of the light that was there in the picture, they had become dark. Not chocolate, or smog, just dark. They were only brown, the happiness driven from them. The only light came from the two small pools spilling over to run down his cheeks. They were filled with sadness and longing.

The grey man expressed his sympathies before leaving.

The third time the grey man saw those eyes was twelve years later and, once again, in a photo. He was in another agent's office, this time invited. He was talking to the uncle when his eyes landed on the picture. He only looked at it for a second before continuing he conversation, pause unnoticed by the other, but the picture was burned into his memory.

The uncle and the boy stood side by side in a park, smiling and laughing. They had arms slung around each other. The boy's eyes were chocolate again, though they didn't have mint in them. Instead they were warm, like a cup of hot chocolate after playing in the snow.

It wasn't long before the grey man saw those eyes again; only a year. The boy was once again in a black suit, though he wasn't hiding in his uncle's body. He could do that no longer. The eyes, though, we're back to dull brown, filled with longing and sorrow. While the grey man was talking to him, though, there was something else. A hint of anger that changed to love and trust when be turned to the red-haired woman; his anchor when the ship was swept out to sea without his captain.

The next time the grey man saw the boy, it was through the video feed of a camera. He was readying himself to jump to be flagpole outside the building, and there was a fire of determination in his eyes.

At that moment, the grey man knew the boy was special. He also knew that with the fire lit, it had to be controlled so that it didn't become all-consuming and destroy England.

In that moment, if there was any doubt in the grey man about using the boy, it disappeared.

Over the next year, the grey man continued to study the boy's eyes. How they were filled with molten hot defiance when going into the bank, but were replaced with hardened acceptance of defeat as he left. How the fiery determination grew less and less with each mission until it was only a single ember left to burn out alone.

This all changed at the end of the year when the anchor was unattached from the ship and sank to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again. Then, the boy's eyes were filled with an anger and fury that the grey man had never seen before. It was like the lone ember suddenly burst into flames and consumed everything in its way. And yet, the grey man knew that one thing had fed the flames, and that was grief. Grief fueled the boy in his revenge, and when it was dealt, the grief sucked in all the energy. Not even a single ember remained; just an empty pitch black pit. That was the last time the grey man saw the boy. He wished he could continue studying his eyes though; that he could see how they reacted to the boy's new life. After all, the good thing about spies is the tale told by their eyes.

So, probably not what you were expecting, but I hope you enjoyed it.

Please review!