Disclaimer: I do not own any Alex Rider characters. Any mentioned that appear at any time in this story are the property of A.H. Any others are of my own making; and if there are any references outside of A.R series that are real, such as places or people, it is not intentional.
Yes, I see your annoyed glares. Again thank WHM for kicking my arse into gear!
Mrs. Jones leaned her head on the window. This pounding rain made the glass cold, and a mushroom cloud of her breath quickly fogged it up. Using her sleeve, she wiped off the condensation. The sky was dark and foreboding. The sun would rise soon, but now was the perfect time. This was probably why Blunt chose it. No one would be up. And the rain would be perfect cover for the car. No crunch of gravel, no revving engine could be heard. No one had come. And no one would leave.
The bright headlights scythed across the dark. They reflected off the mess hall windows. The car rolled to a stop. After a few moments the engine shut off. The rain hammered down. There was a faint click as the doors automatically unlocked. The back right door swung open, an umbrella appearing in the rain.
Mrs. Jones stepped out quickly. She was sure that she had seen something on the mess hall roof, but the umbrella had blocked her view. Now the roof was empty. She was starting to doubt what she'd seen. After what she had just been told she could be imaging things. She shook her head and ducked into the rain. When she reached the door, a quick glance back showed that the driver was still giving her a pitying look. She quickly steeled herself and stepped into the building.
The sergeant arranged his papers on his desk. Trying to appear busy. The sergeant was sure that the killer would show of his own accord. No reason to wake one of his men for a . . . traitor . He heard a door open, the brief thundering of rain, and the loud bang of an unwilling door being pulled closed. No one could sneak in. The door was an alarm in its own right! There was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in." His voice was not as gruff as it could have been.
Mrs. Jones entered. They both looked at the other's face, the expressions set and arranged. All signs of weariness and stress were erased. Replaced by smooth business and military closeness, this could have been a meeting, any time, anywhere.
Mrs. Jones smoothly took a seat. The empty chair seemed to be ignored, but both tried to look discreetly at it. A few minutes passed.
"Are you sure he is coming?" The words were not spoken as a challenge.
The sergeant did not respond. He strained his ears, listening for the door. No sound came. He became frustrated. Mrs. Jones picked up on it instantly.
"Are you sure he is coming?"
The sergeant almost snapped back, that yes the killer was coming, give him a second and he would slit your throat .
The knob turned in the door. That was the only warning the man had. It swung smoothly inward.
"I hope I'm not late?" They were spoken so softly they could barely be heard.
Mrs. Jones did not turn.
"Come in."
The assassin slipped in. The sergeant watched, but he heard no sound. No usual thud of boots, the loud sounds of an assembly of men coming to order. Barely a whisper of fabric was heard. If a heater had been on, the killer would have been little more than a ghost. He seated himself in the vacant chair. Mrs. Jones began.
"We need you help…"
She was cut off.
"Are you asking or do I assume I have no choice?"
Mrs. Jones continued without missing a beat. "Scorpia has announced an imminent attack on all the children of London. Even after we reminded them about the failure of Invisible Sword, they assured us that this time it would not fail. They have sent a letter to Canada, the Untied States, Australia, and our Prime Minister. When we reminded them about Invisible Sword, they responded that we no longer had Alex Rider at our disposal." Here she blinked. "Alan said that he had not contacted you in two years. He said that he left you alone. How…how could this happen?" She turned to the killer. "Why did you do this? Answer …"
The pause was tangible. Thick and heavy, the air seemed to crush the sergeant. Why did the boy, man, killer, really do it?
The assassin took a deep breath.
"For the pay."
Mrs. Jones looked like she had been slapped. If there had been any regret, any sorrow in his tone, she would have forgiven Alex. But the coldness, the lack of feeling, stirred a deep well of disgust and haltered she had for those kind of 6 was different. For their country, their queen. Innocence was what they protected. But this killer did none of that. If he had asked for atonement, she would have gladly given it. She would have taken blame for what he had done, the people he had killed. Now, though, she would never look at him the same way again.
The assassin barely spared a glance at Mrs. Jones. What he was more concerned with was Scorpia. Who was in charge? If he knew, he could know how they would go about their job. With flair, or drama, or mystery, or a quick blow and a hasty retreat. He didn't care that it was Scorpia. That part didn't matter. Revenge was distracting, and when acted upon, usually demeaning. Then he mentally cursed. This was a government. No where near the intelligence and security he needed for this kind of job. A few weeks ago, he would have jumped at an opportunity like this. Taking down a major player, solo, any way he wanted. But the lack of pay reduced his enthusiasm, the fact that it was forced upon reduced it to less than nothing. He waited for Mrs. Jones to continue speaking.
"You will attend COBRA tomorrow. I'll send some proper clothes." Mrs. Jones took in his bedraggled appearance. "A haircut will also be in order."
She stood and shook the sergeant's hand. "I hope to see you soon."
With that she left.
The sergeant looked at the killer. "Alright. You will change at 0400. You leave at 0500. Dismissed"
Alex quietly left the office. He had a lot to think over. The matter of operation on the threat...
OK! "Word find!" How many times did I mention Alex's name? Winner gets a prize! PM me answers!(it's a cookie! You know you want one! Yummie!)