Alex Rider Series cont.
A lone assassin silently scaled the walls of a house in a cozy suburb of England. The window of the room where the boy slept was open. “Perfect.” The cool voice blended in with the night breeze. The Assassin knew why her master had sent her; they had nothing more to lose. This boy, this Alex Rider, had to go. The assassin smiled menacingly, teeth locked in a ferocious grin. Looking again at the still form of the boy, one thought of many was repetitively prominent, He may not look like much, but he must be eliminated now. No mistakes. The assassin felt a strange pang of regret; she would miss this boy, the only one with a chance of defeating them.
Sixteen year old Alex Rider was asleep in his bed when something woke him. Out of tendency rather than need, he froze and listened hard. A light brushing sound, and there it was again! Something or someone was coming up the side of the house. Alex froze and closed his eyes, faking sleep. He knew he was to stiff, to still, not at all how he slept, but the person at the window would not know that. Alex heard the almost imperceptible creak of the floorboards as the person swung down through the window and approached stealthily. Taking his time. Alex grew cold and barely repressed a shiver and felt his hairs rise on end. A professional. Alex’s instincts told him to run. He knew he was out of his league. It had been a year since he’d really fought anyone, though he’d taken care to resume Karate when he returned from his confrontation with Snakehead and Scorpia in Australia.
In front of him sat Mr. Blunt and Ms. Jones, who (as always) was sucking on a peppermint. He looked at them expectantly. They were both silent. He sighed. Things were never easy with the two of them. Oh well, one thing had changed though. Him. This time they would speak first. He knew it was childish but he kept his mouth shut and stared them fixedly in the eye. Ms. Jones shifted uncomfortably and her eyes drifted towards the clock. The steady tick of time passing was the only noise. Alex wondered if it was his imagination or if Blunt really was antsy. He doubted it. The man’s eyes narrowed expectantly and Alex suppressed a grin. He would willingly wait in there in the dull office for hours if it meant making Blunt uncomfortable. He deserved it for bringing him back here again…
Of course Alex knew Blunt wasn’t really what, or who, had brought him there. It was that girl. It seemed he could never stay away from this part of his life. He had made it a year without any major catastrophes, but he was, it seemed, destined always to be shoved back into the waiting arms of MI6.