AN: I'm going to ask for forgiveness. This was never written to be a multi chapter and so I didn't have the chapter breaks that I usually take great care in setting up. I'm just copying and pasting it into chaps, so bear with me.

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Alex had an appointment with Smithers before he left, and then would be taken immediately to the airport. He couldn't help but smile back as the large man greeted him warmly from his desk.

"Alex, old chap. Very nice to see you again, though I must say, I rather hadn't expected it to be this soon."

Alex shrugged carefully. "National Emergency, yadda yadda."

Smithers laughed. "Too true, too true. Come now, I have some very nice gadgets for you this time. Your short time off has given me an excellent chance to play with some ideas. It's marvelous working with you, dear boy, simply marvellous."

Alex smiled fondly as Smithers spoke into a pencil on his desk requesting his newer projects be brought up.

"Now, I'm afraid they've been rather secretive about this mission of yours. That never bodes well, no sir. Ah well, let's have a look, shall we?" Smithers asked as his secretary laid out the tray of new toys.

"Smithers, they're sending me up against SCORPIA again. I appreciate all the work you've done, but I'll never be able to smuggle anything in. Not after last time."

Smithers' normally jolly face dropped into a severe frown immediately. "How do they intend you communicate with us?" he asked.

Alex offered him the same kind smile he had offered Jack not hours before. "I don't expect they do."

He was trying to be gentle. Smithers had been his only true friend and supporter at MI6, and he was didn't like disappointing him. But it was true, nonetheless, and he didn't think that trying to stuff probably thousands of dollars of gadgets into a pack he had every intention of getting rid of was very appreciative.

He had failed. Smithers almost crumbled right in front of him, reading the subtly of what Alex had said perfectly. Sad eyes looked at him, and seemed to sadden more when they encountered calm acceptance.

"I must say this is rather disappointing. But here, I do have one item for you." He picked up what look like a thumb nail. "This will pass as a natural nail, even fitted over your own real one. Press here, at the bottom, and you'll be able to inject one fairly large person. It's a chemical that will add a certain signature to their brain. For example, if you inject me with it, and then manage to convince me I'm a chicken, then I will firmly believe I am a chicken."

"Is there an antidote?" Alex asked curiously.

Smithers shook his head. "I'm afraid not, so be very careful not to inject yourself with it, eh old chap? The effects can be overcome, in time, but there are no guarantees. The amount of time it needs to take effect depends largely on the size of the person. For myself, it could take up to half an hour. For a woman, or someone your size, it would take merely minutes."

Alex nodded, and allowed Smithers to affix the fake nail.

"Now then, there's just one more item of business to attend to," Smithers forced out with a smile. He took a hypodermic from his desk drawer. "This is standard protocol for most agents, and to be frankly honest, I have no idea why we haven't done this before now."

Alex hesitated. He trusted this man more than almost any other adult in his life, but he really had a hard time trusting injections after the Invisible Sword incident. Smithers must have understood, because he smiled.

"Do relax, dear boy. It's merely the worlds smallest tracking device. Unfortunately, its signal can be detected eventually. However, this device will not activate unless your heart stops. It's so we can bring you home."

Alex understood immediately. If there was a body to bring home, then obviously MI6 did their best to do so. He nodded and held out his arm.

That done, Alex prepared to leave. He turned to the normally happy now somewhat deflated agent. "Thank you, Smithers, for all you've done. I very much hope to work with you again."

It was a nicety, a socially acceptable way to deny what they both already knew. Smithers forced a smile to his somber face. "My dear boy, from your lips to gods ears. Be safe."

With that, Alex left.

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Wolf paced around the cell for perhaps the thousandth time since their capture. The other three members of his team, Fox, Snake and Eagle, watched him carefully. This was their fourth day since they'd been caught, and Wolf was very much starting to act like his name.

"Sit down, will ya? You're driving me batty," Fox complained.

Wolf didn't even spare him a glance as he continued. Why hadn't they been retrieved yet? What was MI6 doing? And perhaps the more haunting question had to be, why had they not been harmed?

He knew who had captured them. He'd never personally tangled with SCORPIA, but he was very well aware of their reputation. Most SAS learned it very early on, which was immediately followed by two months intense anti torture training. He thought that sort of had a tendency to solidify the situation, just in case you missed the memo.

But they hadn't been touched. They'd been given some food, and plenty of water. Their cell was dirty, but not filthy. There was a chemical toilet in the corner, a sink with working taps, and four cots, one on each wall of the cell. They'd even been provided with thin blankets, which didn't do much against the constant chill of the basement, but were a surprise nonetheless.

The more time he spent caged up here, the less sense any of this made.

"Wolfie, you're scaring the troupes," came a calm voice from behind him, the light Scottish accent not hiding it's owners irritation.

Wolf sighed. Snake was right, of course. His pacing probably wasn't helping morale. But, at this point, he really wasn't sure what would.

"Ya know, I don't ever remember you being claustrophobic Wolf Man," Eagle commented.

Wolf growled. "I'm not. I just don't like it when things don't add up."

"You are NOT going to tell me you're complaining about not being tortured?" Fox demanded in astonishment.

"Well, we could fix that, if you really do want to," a voice came from down the hallway. The voice was most definitely heavily laced with an English accent. The body that went with it was a man in his early forties, hair that had once been brown but was now peppered with grey, and an athletic form. The smooth face was lean, but also had a large scar across the cheek.

"No thanks," Eagle piped up. This was the first person who had actually spoken to them since their capture.

The man bowed his head slightly to acknowledge Eagle's rejection of his offer. "I thought so. Well, what do we have here? British Special Air Service. I do feel honored. My name is Troy Dellaware, and I'll be your host for as long as you live."

Fox snorted. "Great, we get stuck with a comedian."

Snake gave Fox a stern look. "Let's not make the nice Tupperware man mad and want to torture us, buddy."

Eagle chuckled. Despite all that, Troy merely smiled at them. "Poke your fun while you can, gentlemen. I have a special treat planned for you."

"Really? Okay, who didn't tell me it was his birthday? I hate surprises you know. If it's mine, you have to tell me," Eagle directed at his other teammates.

Troy twisted his neck to the side to crack it, his only sign of irritation. "I've come to extend an invitation," he motioned several guards forward. "We've received word that we have a rather special guest coming."

The guards unlocked their cell, but were obviously ready for anything they might try. Each man had two guards, eight in total, and soon had guns pressed to their sides as they walked. Knowing when the fight was over before it started, K Unit obediently followed where they were led- or shoved. Apparently the guards weren't quite as eager to show their hospitality as Troy seemed to be.

They were ushered through too many hallways to keep track of, and took too many turns to count before they found themselves in a large, polished board room. Each man was firmly and securely tied to a stainless steel chair, and then dragged over to the side of the wall to sit like wallflowers, still surrounded by guards.

Just as everyone was getting settled, Troy's cell phone rang, and he immediately picked it up. "He's here? Take as many as you need to capture- he what? Bring him to the Board Room, with no less than a dozen guards on him. Do not underestimate him. I assure you that you have no idea what he's capable of. And search him. Every inch! No less then a dozen, in escort formation!" He flipped the phone shut. He seemed distracted even as he settled himself at the head of the table.

K Unit had watched with interest. Whoever it was had obviously thrown Troy off track, and the man was clearly nervous. Twelve guards for one man? Who the hell was showing up? And why had Troy ordered his capture?

Exchanged glances told each of the men that they were all on the same page, and each had to admit that they were hopelessly curious.

Alex walked carefully in the middle of his entourage. For a moment, he had to admit to feeling some pride at having twelve guards just for him. Four at his back, four at the front, and two to each side.

He allowed himself the moment to feel smug, before he sobered. He was sore from the impact of his parachute jump into the forest, and then from the hike to find the place. It hadn't been hard. MI6 had fairly accurate maps of the area, and it seemed logical to move toward the signs that read : keep out. He never had been very good at taking instruction.

Obviously SCORPIA had done their homework. The guards had searched him embarrassingly thoroughly. Unfortunately, they had also found his one and only defence, the fake nail. He had been slightly disappointed when the guard hadn't even asked him what it was, and had merely tossed it out.

He mentally ran over his plan again. It seemed to be working extremely well so far, so he saw no real reason to change it. He just wanted to get it over with, and hoped his gamble would pay off.

He was led into a very modern boardroom. He had even been expecting to see the man at the head of the table. What he had not, however, anticipated was K Unit being tied to chairs on the other side of the room.

Wolf couldn't stop from opening his mouth in shock when he saw who had been escorted in.

"Cub!" Eagle greeted cheerfully.

Wolf saw the boy's eyes flicker to them for a second before returning to Troy. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this! Why had MI6 sent in only one man? And a teenager no less! This couldn't possibly be the rescue! And why the hell had Troy made such a fuss about it? Twelve guards for a kid?

"Ah, Alex Rider. Welcome. It's good to finally meet you in person," Troy exclaimed happily. "Though, I must say, your entry was somewhat disappointing. I had expected so much more of a challenge from you."

Alex shrugged. "Sorry. Better luck next time."

"Would you care to tell me why you simply walked into our compound and sat until someone found you?" Troy persisted. He hadn't expected the move and it irked him.

Wolf raised an eyebrow. Obviously Cub had wanted to be caught, but why?

"Worked, didn't it?"

"No weapons, one tiny little gadget that was easily found, no back up. You can't honestly expect me to believe MI6 sent you here in hopes of us taking you back? Is that it, Rider, did you come here hoping to be one of us again?"

K Unit exchanged surprised glances. What on Earth was going on? Who was this kid? Wolf returned to watching the boy, and was suddenly wary of the defeated sigh that was heaved by the youth. He felt a tensing of his muscles that always signalled bad news.

"No, Dellaware, I came expecting to die."