Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider. If you actually read these, is it worth the wait? I am not Anthony Horowitz.

Chapter 21: Puzzle...

Over the next few days, it became clear that although his little jaunt had been short, it had been far too much for the SAS unit to accept. His hours of freedom had apparently cost him the little amount of respect he had gained with the unit. Not that he truly cared about that… but, upon reflection, it had been nice to go through the day without having to worry about someone glaring or scowling at him.

It had been a nice change… but a change that was now gone.

They seemed particularly determined that he not do the same thing again, or even have a chance at it, and went so far as to have someone in the same room as him at all times. Cameron had been quick to lay down the law that he was only allowed in his bedroom during the evening hours – greatly cutting into his ability to explore the information Smithers had passed his way.

The restrictions only increased Alex's desire to get away again, but at the moment, he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to pull that off when they were watching so closely. Not that he was ready to go the moment their guard dropped. Alex knew that in some ways, Jones had been right. The hand injury severely limited his ability to protect himself. But that was getting better, day by day.

The end was in sight.

The unit would eventually back off, and he would be ready. Prepared to take his chances and get away for good.

Oddly, Nico's anger and annoyance bothered him the most. Alex knew he hadn't been entirely welcoming toward the older man – after all, he wasn't positive he could trust him given their shared experiences – but he hadn't expected the feelings of betrayal as the only person who had an inkling of what was really going on, turned against him. He should have expected it, but still…

After two days though, Alex knew that it was going to take quite a while for them to back down and relax again. He needed to bide his time.

Unfortunately, just because he felt more in control of his life, and had a light at the end of the tunnel, didn't mean that the nightmares had magically disappeared. Though his bedroom felt more welcoming, filled with purpose, the falling asleep at night only held the dangers of more nightmares. Which he didn't exactly want to experience, thank you very much.

So as to not rock the boat too much – because screaming nightmares were really the last thing he needed now – Alex continued with his naps on the couch. For now, at least, the others seemed content to let him have that security. Out of doors had been banned though.

"Alex, phone's for you." The voice startled him out of his doze, and Alex blinked up at Jacobs with a slight glare. The man was holding a slim mobile out to him. The first cellphone he had seen in the safe house… "It's important."

Alex rolled his eyes as he took the phone. Who would bother to call him? "What?" He asked the person on the other end of the phone.

"Hello Alex." The voice was unmistakable.

Alex scowled, sitting up on the couch. "Jones."

"I've heard that you're being less than cooperative."

"What's it matter to you?"

"Come now, Alex. Your safety is one of my highest concerns right now."

Alex snorted. She had single-handedly given him over to people seeking to kill him. "Isn't it always. And you've done such a good job." He ignored the glare he was getting from Jacobs. Probably thought he shouldn't be so disrespectful. Respect is earned… "Nothing quite like getting nearly killed by my MI6 appointed guardian. That just screams that my safety is of a high priority."

"Alex, you need to cooperate with them. The SAS are out from under our purview, they're not influenced by the in-house politics."

"Like that matters," He spat out. "I was safer when I was on my own. I survived plenty well. And at least then I could trust myself not—"

She cut him off. "They can't keep you safe if you're running out on them – like you did with all of your guardian here, might I add."

Alex glowered. Guardians which had tried to kill him. "I wouldn't have the problem in the first place if it weren't for your wonderful lot." Might as well go back to the original issue. All of his problems could be easily traced back to one specific point in time – the day his uncle had been killed. Everything after that was just ripples – and his own stupid actions. "Remind me to write you a thank you note for royally screwing my life over. And maybe I should send Blunt one too, so he doesn't feel left out from my lack of respect." Spewing it all out actually felt somewhat cathartic… but the reality was that all that aside, he still had his own actions to be responsible for.

There was a long pause before Jones' trademark monotone came across again. "Blunt was found dead this morning."

Alex blinked, the color draining out of his face. He disliked the man, but never actively wished him dead. "What?"

"He was found in northern Spain this morning. He was fleeing something, we've gathered, but we're not clear on what. It's not 'reformed SCORPIA,' as that operation was taken out weeks ago. However, there are signs that it was linked to your recent kidnapping."

Alex swore loudly. Reformed SCORPIA?

"How elegantly put, Alex."

"—the hell? You decided to call me up, tell me he's dead, and then go on to say you have no idea who did it? Just so that I'd cooperate with your people? No way in hell!" If that was the level of information they had, then did he really dare trust anyone?

"Your safe house will be moved in a few days. It's important to remember that every time you venture out, you're risking being seen or caught by someone. Keep that in mind." For a moment, her voice almost sounded human and reasonable. "Don't be brash and stupid, Alex. We're trying to help you out here."

His hand curled into a tight fist around the phone. "Go. To. Hell." He didn't even wait for a response from her, just hit the end call button, and narrowly resisted the urge to throw it in anger. He shoved the phone at Jacobs' chest, before storming up the stairs toward his bedroom. Screw the rules. Using the key he had swiped days earlier, he unlocked his door and slid inside, letting the door slam shut with a resounding and satisfying noise.

If Jones thought that telling him the news that the man who had royally screwed up his life was dead, would spur him into cooperating, she thought wrong. It only served to reinforce the message that someone was after him and one of the most complex security agencies of the world knew fuck all. All he had to go on were vague feelings and impressions, but he knew they were after something. There was something he knew, some information, they wanted and apparently were willing to go to quite far extents to find out.

He glanced at the laptop. The files had remained for the most part unopened – mainly due to the lack of privacy he had been afforded in the past few days. He was also tense about opening them, the niggling sense of uncertainty as to what exactly they might hold. Was he really ready to read about someone else's views on his captivity, when he himself still could not remember?

People are dying…

Though he had no love lost for Blunt, the man who had so royally screwed up his life, he knew that whoever was after him would just continue. Not that he was about to just give himself up… Though admittedly, there were times when that option seemed like the more reasonable one. Then it would just be… over.

Alex shook his head. He wasn't going to go down that train of thought. Not today.

He sat down at the laptop and pulled up the D&T folder. He had opened the folder numerous times in the past several days, but had never delved into what it held. Even so, the password slipped off his fingers with familiarity.

kE2… a53… d… f

He hesitated once again. The same thing that had caught him from looking further the past few days.

He was scared of what he would find. He was scared that whatever these files held would either unlock all of his memories, or none at all – and he would be stuck in the same place he was currently. No idea what anyone wanted from him and no way out.

Maybe… maybe it would be best to start with the gadgets. He clicked through the layers of security Smithers had built in to the program, before settling on a page that showed three… games? Minesweeper, Chess, and Solitaire. Obviously, it was more than first meets the eye, because he doubted that Smithers would have gone through so much trouble to get it to him, only to leave it with games he could easily find on the computer already.

He opened up Minesweeper and was thrown by how… old the program looked. It honestly looked like a game, but… Alex clicked on the help tab and was rewarded with an about section. Opening that changed the entire look of the game and was clearly the portal into the gadget. A dialogue box popped up, requesting access to his files. He clicked yes, figuring that Smithers hadn't sent him a virus or something.

The screen immediately changed to something similar to a radar detector. He stared at it for a moment, picking out the walls of the house that were being detected in green, the yellow-orange hotspots within the house that indicated the SAS soldiers, and the fainter blue spots that showed… what? It wasn't clear how far the reach of the detector went, but along one edge that would have been toward the back of the house, there was a line of blue spots spaced out at regular intervals. There were other blue spots closer to him, including one that must have been – Alex looked around, taking a moment to orient the picture versus reality – right at his window.

He went over to investigate, but the only thing out of place was the panic sensor on the sill that had been there since they had arrived. It had been pretty standard in his apartment, so he hadn't thought twice about it. Obviously though, it wasn't transmitting a signal back to MI6, it was likely transmitting a signal to somewhere else in the house. Likely their monitoring room.

Alex looked again, noting that his own yellow-orange hotspot had moved when he had moved, and showed a blue spot almost superimposed on him. Probably his watch. One of the SAS dots – and who knew who it was – had a blue spot as well. So… blue spots were electronics or something similar, green showed solid walls, and yellow-orange showed people. The range of the scanning was unknown, but… it was certainly something that would come in handy.

He clicked out of it, and a second dialogue box popped up asking if he wanted instructions to download the app on his phone. Since he still didn't have a phone, he clicked no, but determined that getting a phone somehow was going to one of his top priorities. Even if it meant taking another unsanctioned excursion.

The Chess game looked similar at first, but once again, as soon as the about tab was clicked, the screen switched. This time, there was a note on the screen. Sorry, my boy, but this one is best used on another device. A laptop won't be practical for breaking any digital locks. Follow the instructions for download. Well… now he really needed a phone…

The final one, Solitaire, opened up to yet another familiar game screen. This time, there was no help tab, but there was a game options section. The screen changed yet again, with a popup requesting headphones. Alex grabbed his earbuds off the table next to the bed and plugged them in. Immediately, voices filtered into his ears. It took him a moment, but he recognized it as Mickey, apparently recording a message for his… family?

Redirect for increased clarity.

Alex turned the laptop slightly and heard Mickey's voice quiet out, but moving it in the other direction made it louder. Directional. A listening device. He supposed this was another gadget that would come in handy. He could keep track of whatever briefings they had – though perhaps even that would be unnecessary once he looked through the information he had.

Of course, if they were moving safe houses… who knew what kind of surprises there were for him.

He closed out of the program, clicking out of yet another popup box asking him if he wanted to install the app, before returning to the main screen. Useful gadgets, but… what he really needed was information.

"Ready, Rider? We've got plans for you."

He shook his head, pushing out the intrusive thought. Alex clicked through to the information folder, finding a single app, Reader. Within Reader, which looked similar to any digital reader application, there were four categories: General, Operation Freedom, POI, and Assets.

Might as well start with General…

Alex stared at the information in front of him. It just didn't add up. The numbers, and dates, and rationales… it didn't add up to what he knew was going on. Though he doubted he was missing information… what they had didn't go together. It didn't corroborate.

The general information was just that – general. There were few details, but enough that he was able to grasp the gist of what the intelligence service knew. And that was very little. From all accounts, it appeared that Reformed SCORPIA had disappeared just as quickly as they had appeared – just long enough for them to rise out of the woodwork and screw Alex up, apparently.

There was a noted rise in terrorist groups worldwide, though most of them appeared to be smaller fish. Smaller unrelated groups. Which was why it all seemed to strange. It gave a general sense of discoordination – which was to be expected with a handful of groups worldwide. It wouldn't do for one larger group to be running everything – like SCORPIA had tried to. Yet the way the data matched up – or rather didn't in just the right spots – made it seem like there was something bigger.

Jones' statement that Reformed SCORPIA hadn't killed Blunt was… likely true. Which meant that there was another player that MI6 suspected of being involved.

But then, why did Reformed SCORPIA take the fall for the kidnapping?

It seemed that not a week after Alex's rescue, all signs of Reformed SCORPIA had dried up and any known or suspected members has quickly shown up dead.

It was a dead end.

"They're SCORPIA! How long have they wanted me dead? Not enough time in our weekly meetings?" His chest heaved violently.

"Alex—"

"Don't Alex me. You knew about those bastards. You knew they were back. And you didn't even give me any warning. Let's just keep Alex on his leash, don't tell him anything. Don't bother telling me that the people who want me dead are back in business!"

"That's not—"

Alex shook his head. He remembered being furious with Jones at that point, but about what… had always been indistinct. Had Jones been trying to tell him that reformed SCORPIA was already gone…? That it was clearly someone else now that was out for his blood? But he had been too… angry to listen?

Then, the fiascos with his guardians had occurred – so obviously another party had taken interest. Or had been pulling the strings for reformed SCORPIA from the beginning. A more likely story. Mrs. Harcourt – Madam Sargent – had been tied back to a group known only as Los Ojos de Angeles, which had also promptly disappeared after her interrogation and subsequent "death". Alex doubted that the death was accidental, though on whose side the blame laid… was more difficult to pinpoint.

Alex wasn't even sure what he was feeling anymore. He wasn't sure if he dared look at the other information sheets – the details of his captivity were hiding somewhere in the midst. And while he knew he needed to remember at some point, he worried that it would only serve to drive his nightmares even further…

Now… Now was not the time.

But it was coming. And he would know the truth.

They had left him alone for only a few hours that morning – apparently deciding that his blow-up at whoever it was on the phone wasn't an indicator that he was going to try to pull a runner again. It had given him some "cool off" time, to let the simmering anger at Jones die down at least a little bit. But by noon, they had restricted his movements again. There was no option to explore the other files left to him by Smithers.

The unit had, in fact, been so controlling in his movements that the next opportunity he had was late into the evening. Alex knew that these reports were certainly not bedtime stories, but… He needed to know what was going on. It was clear that MI6 hardly knew what was happening, so could he really trust them to be responsible and keep him safe? While Blunt was clearly not Jones' highest priority, him getting killed was just… a huge strike against her.

The information on his own captivity hadn't been under the general section though. And supposedly, he was no longer counted under assets by MI6 – Jones' excuse was his age. Though he found that he didn't really believe her on that, so far, it seemed that she was trying to stay on his good side. Believing that he could actually be something in the future – more than just an MI6 plaything.

He clicked on it anyway. In it were personnel files. For the most part, on people Alex knew very little about. There were a few familiar files here and there, Ben Daniels, Smithers, Mrs. Jones, and… Nicolas Kendrick. Though his own paranoia and uncertainty had kept Alex from daring to ask Nico about anything that had happened… he couldn't help but admit he was slightly curious. He obviously had all his memories intact…

The file was bare-bones – unsurprisingly – with limited information about his training and skills. He was apparently the signals expert in the unit and had trained at Brecons for quite a number of months before deploying with his unit to… Gibraltar. They were apparently part of a new initiative of language intensive units – which made sense, considering how they all spoke Spanish like natives.

The unit had four members. In the file, it only referred to them by their code names: Cougar, Antelope, Frog, and Zebra.

Zebra.

"You can call me… Zeb."

Alex rolled his eyes, not ready to get familiar with his cellmate. "Yeah, well, you can call me Alex."

Alex blinked, remembering the interaction. Clarity for a moment. Zeb. Zebra. It made… sense.

It wasn't… a lie?

Not entirely.

More than ever, Alex wondered what Nico's thoughts on the experience had been. If he hadn't been lying… then maybe Alex could trust him…

He skimmed over the other information – including the note that Nico was the designated guardian of one AJR. Well, there was that question answered. The reality though was there was very little information. There had to be a… a… dossier or something on that subject. Smithers said it was there somewhere.

Which left Operation Freedom – which, really? – and POI. POI was quickly ruled out – though it appeared to have lots of information on various terrorist groups, worldwide. Meaning that Operation Freedom was somehow associated with him. He wasn't sure if that was Smithers' clever naming, or really something that Jones herself had designated…

Alex clicked to open the folder, but blinked when a dialogue box popped up. 'Warning: Contents accessed by AJR on June 2, at 3:00 pm. If you do not remember these actions, stop now.'

He stared at the flashing warning.

June 2.

That was two days ago.

Two days ago, when he had first entered the password.

Which meant… he didn't remember.

He couldn't…

He just…

But that meant….

That meant his memory was still being messed with.

He recognized the sound of shattering glass before he knew what he had done. The photo frame that had once sat on the edge of his desk was now in scattered pieces on the other side of the room.

"Shit," he breathed. "No. No, no, no." His hand reached up to grip his hair, yanking on the strands and trying to bring a bit of clarity back to his thoughts. This wasn't how he dealt with things. He knew better. He had learned better…

But he didn't remember…

He scrambled for the bedspread on his bed, pulling it around himself as if it were some sort of shield. He sank down into a crouch between his bed and the wall, effectively blocking himself in. Nothing more. No more could go wrong. He kept pulling on his hair, trying to find his ground again.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He knew that. But he didn't know why.

He just… couldn't remember.

A/N: Apologies, I had this edited and then life came and smacked me down before I could post it. Enjoy and let me know what you think.