Here's the next one. I managed to get it done before my midterms, yay for me. ^^ Please enjoy, and drop a review! Thanks!

ELEVEN

He gazed out the window, watching the dark ocean below. Patches of clouds temporarily blocked the view. The dull thrumming of the engines vibrated throughout the large cabin, creating a constant sound. That did not bother the man seated next to Alex; the balding fellow was awkwardly sprawled in his seat, his head thrown back with uneven snores emitting from his open mouth.

A few seats away, a young mother was trying to shush her whimpering baby. The little one was threatening to break into earsplitting wails.

Alex closed his eyes, and turned away from the window. There wasn't much to see, anymore. The clouds were growing thicker. He leaned back in his seat, and followed the balding man's example.

However, he wouldn't sleep. He couldn't. Ever since then, he hadn't had a real sleep. He merely existed on fitful naps with echoing screams and raining blood.

Beside him, the man snored. The baby broke into angry shrieks. At the back of the plane, there was a loud crash as a flight attendant dropped a tray of dishes. The air thrummed relentlessly, resonating with the roar of the engines.

But Alex didn't hear any of it. He was already far away, floating in a dark, silent place.

ARAR

The plane was old, noisy, and cramped. Not to mention shaky. However, it was the only thing that MI6 had in the area that could get them to Washington in the same day.

It could hardly be called a plane. As Eagle put it, it was a scrap pile of metal that gained the ability to fly. Their pilot was a nervous, young guy who looked fresh out of high school.

Their ride lurched suddenly, nearly throwing them out of their seats. Eagle let out an annoyed sound, while their pilot shouted out something that sounded apologetic.

Fox smiled to no one in particular. "I'm surprised that MI6 had something as junky as this thing around."

"Tch. I'm just glad that it flies," Snake muttered. His thin face seemed somewhat green. It wasn't surprising, with the way the old plane seemed to skitter and bounce across the sky.

Wolf was turning over a strange gun in his hands. It was lighter than most its size, yet the barrel was wider and longer. It was currently unloaded. The weapon had been given to him by Algonthin just before they had taken off.

"Hey Wolf. What's that?" Eagle asked. Actually, he had a very good idea of what it was, but he wanted to hear it from their team leader.

"Hn," Wolf grunted, putting the weapon inside a holster that was slung across his shoulders. With his heavy, brown jacket over it, it was hidden from view. "Tranq gun."

"Oh..." Eagle grew somber. Just as he figured, but hearing it made him recall just what exactly this mission was about.

"If it doesn't work, our orders to aim for the legs or arms," Wolf spoke softly. His dark eyes were anything but happy. "We can't go back without him."

For a while, the only sound was the groaning of the fuselage, and the angry sputters of the twin engines. K – Unit fell silent, thinking over their grim task. And each of them wondered why. Why did Alex Rider join Scorpia? Why did he kill the former deputy head of MI6. And why had he chosen to become an assassin?

ARAR

On March 13, at 2:15 p.m., the President of the United States would address the general public about the issue of the worsening global environment.

At 2:20 p.m., Alex had to be at the very front of the crowds, no less than fifty feet away from the President himself. Which wouldn't be very easy, due to the secret service. But they figured Alex could manage it, be the innocent looking boy he was. Alex inwardly scoffed at this.

When the clock hit 2:45, Alex was to let out an alarmed cry, and tackle the President. The sniper, who would be somewhere hidden, would send a bullet into the podium, making it seem like Alex saved the President's life.

The whole thing was full of holes and insanely risky. What was to stop the secret service from shooting Alex on the spot? How would the sniper even remain unnoticed from all of the security sweeps? Alex thought it was a stupid plan, and he'd even said so.

Scorpia didn't seem to care. All they did was smile, and tell Alex that his partner would take care of everything. All he had to do was play his part, and make sure the President got dead at the right time. Alex got the feeling that they were not telling him something. That they were withholding a ton of information that might have been otherwise handy. . .

He was probably going to die on this mission. There was no where in their plan that spoke of any measure of success, he thought.

Alex looked at the insanely crowded airport around him. People were everywhere, raising up such a noise as they talked, argued, laughed, or shouted. There were so many shapes, colors, and sizes, Alex figured that a seven foot tall circus clown would have fit right in.

Where were they? Someone was supposed to meet him. Alex checked his watch; he'd been waiting for over ten minutes now. He glanced at his one suitcase, making sure it was still by his feet. With such diverse people crowding into one place, it wouldn't be shocking if luggage mysteriously went missing. Of course, if someone tried to take the teenager's suitcase, they'd probably find his foot in their face.

"Alex Rider?" The cool, male voice spoke softly, from directly behind him.

Hackles rising, Alex slowly turned. A man in his mid-thirties stood there, dressed in loose black jeans, and a stylish trench coat. Dark hair cropped short, and dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, the man gave off an eerie, intimidating presence.

"Who're you?" Alex warily asked, on guard.

The man smiled, showing flawless teeth. "I am your partner."

"Partner?" Alex frowned. "You're the - ?"

"Doesn't really matter," the man interrupted smoothly, smile still in place. "Now come. Let's get out of here." He turned, and seemed to glide over the floor as he easily slipped into the milling crowds. Alex nearly lost him; as it was, he had push himself just to keep up.

"Oh," the man called over the noise of the airport. "I'd nearly forgotten. You can call me Scare."

Alex brushed past a young couple, ignoring their dirty looks. He drew up beside the man. "Scare?" he asked, dubiously. "That's not a name."

The man flashed those white teeth in a predatory kind of way. "It's what I do best," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low tone that sent shivers down Alex's spine. Even as it were, Alex could barely tell whether the man was being serious, or joking.

Alex suddenly became aware of the oddest thing. Scare did not have any trouble navigating the rush of people. In fact, around him, there was no rush of people. Every nearby person that he approached instinctively stepped aside to create a path for him. And they weren't even realizing that they were doing so. It was some kind of subconscious thing, like the way smaller animals went into hiding when they sensed predators about.

Alex could feel it, too. He felt nervous and uneasy, and wanted to put some distance between himself and this mysterious 'partner.' It was then that he decided that Scare was a very dangerous man.

ARAR

"I see." Algonthin murmured into the mouthpiece of the phone. "Thank you." And with a blink, he severed the connection. Leaning back in the leather chair, he surveyed his office. It formally had belonged to the late Mrs. Jones, and even though it had been cleaned out, someone had forgotten to remove the bowl of peppermints from the top of the desk.

Algonthin eyed them with faint disdain. Sweets, he thought, were utterly disgusting.

There came a faint knock on the door, and none other than Jack Starbright entered. No doubt to question the status of the boy. He blinked at her, making a smooth gesture to a chair in front of the desk. She sat obediently.

"You are inquiring about Alex?" He asked, even though he knew the answer. It was all just formalities, anyway.

"Yes," she answered. She looked exhausted, with those dark rings beneath her eyes. And her hair was a bit stringy – she probably hadn't showered in a few days, as well. "Have they found him?"

"I suppose so," Algonthin said. He was glad he had no remaining family members or friends alive. He would loathe having to be in such a miserable state as the woman in front of him. "Although, he got away from them."

"When was this?" Jack exclaimed. "Is he all right?"

"Fine, fine. It was at the airport, but I wouldn't fret so much over it." Algonthin eyed the bowl of peppermints on his desk. Just the sight of them were making him sick. He really should have them removed. He frowned ever so slightly. Of course, the expression never showed up on his face. It remained as blank as ever.

He pushed the bowl towards Jack. "Peppermint?"

She seemed a little surprised, but nodded a bit hesitantly. "Thanks." She took one, and unwrapped it. Algonthin watched as she slipped it into her mouth. Well now, he was making good progress. There was one less of the miserable candies.

"The whole situation is under control, Miss Starbright," he told her. "The boy will be back in England in a few days."

"Really?" She didn't seem to believe him. Her doubt almost hurt him. Almost. "How can you be so certain? Those men – the, uh....C- Unit? They didn't seem - "

"K-Unit," he corrected, a bit sharply. He hated such errors. They annoyed him. Especially spelling errors and messy handwriting. "Yes, they will find him. And I've got another few people in it as well. I wouldn't worry, if I were you."

"Other people? Who?" She stared at him, her eyes tired. But fierce. He liked that. Weak people were another thing that bothered him.

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you that. But rest assured. He will be found." He folded his fingers, and smiled kindly. Of course, the smile never showed on his face. "Perhaps you should get some rest, Miss. Starbright. You look quite tired."

"Ah...thank you. I will. I just wanted to see if anything happened."

"As soon as anything does, you will be the first one to know." First civilian, that is. Alan Blunt would be the first, in all reality. But she didn't need to know that. One had to tread carefully with the civilians.

He watched as she got up from her chair, and left the room. As soon as she was gone, his smile faded. Exhausting. He'd never had to deal with this much hogwash before he became the deputy head. Really. It was all exasperating.

And that bowl – he had to get rid of it. Immediately.