DISCLAIMER: I don't own Alex Rider. I'm also not very sure where this came from...

Agents and Assassinations

"We make war that we may live in peace."
- Aristotle

Alex was having a rather enjoyable morning walk to his school when the Bank called him. He sighed irritably, lifting the vibrating cell phone to his ear.

"Yes?"

"Alex," Mrs. Jones was on the other side. It was unusual, considering how it was always the receptionist that called him, "Are you at school yet?"

Alex looked up at the grey building in front of him. He shrugged inwardly and made his way through the doors, "I just arrived."

He could hear Mrs. Jones unwrapping a peppermint on the other side. She was obviously stressed, "This is going to make things complicated."

Alex glanced at his watch. He was ten minutes early, "What do you mean?"

"This morning, around 0527 hours, we received a letter." Mrs. Jones said professionally, despite the peppermint in her mouth.

Alex raised his eyebrows, "Great for you?"

Mrs. Jones let out a breath, almost like she was laughing. Alex knew that was impossible. Mrs. Jones never laughed.

"It contained anthrax spores, biochemically modified to be lethal. It wasn't something we'd encountered before," Alex realized why Mrs. Jones seemed off, "Thankfully, since the Amerithrax case in America, Smithers has designed a detector for this sort of stuff."

"Oh," Alex didn't know what else to say.

"When we managed to open it in a safe environment," Mrs. Jones rolled the peppermint around in her mouth for a second before continuing, "We found that the letter was addressed to you."

"You look through my mail?" Alex blinked disbelievingly at his phone. What kind of person did that?

"You should be grateful," Mrs. Jones said dryly, "We saved you from dying."

Alex snorted.

"The letter was a threat. They want to kill you."

"They always want to kill me," Alex rolled his eyes, "Be more specific with the 'they'."

Mrs. Jones typed something on her computer, rolling the mint in her mouth. Alex could hear the steady tapping of her fingers, "There are thirty-three signed terrorist organization names."

Alex felt his mood drop, "You've got to be joking."

"I rarely joke, Alex."

He made his way towards a bench by the wall. It was unoccupied. Alex looked down at his watch. Six more minutes.

"What are you going to do about it, then?" Alex asked, half hoping she'd just tell him to fend for himself. He knew that the head of MI6's plans were usually bad.

Mrs. Jones typed some more for another few seconds, "Since these organizations have proved themselves capable of making biological weapons, we're taking this very seriously. Not to mention that these organizations are very skilled. Every person in your school could potentially die without any of the organizations stepping foot in the school."

"But that won't happen," Alex said confidently, "because they never learn. They want to make a big show of things."

"I wouldn't count on it." Mrs. Jones responded darkly, "I'm sending a few teams of SAS, a few of our agents, and emergency responders."

"I hope you're notifying the headmaster."

Mrs. Jones paused, as if she hadn't thought of that, "I'll get someone to call him."

"They're not going to interfere with the school day, are they?" Alex took a look around, seeing kids filter in now, "You know. The teams."

"We'll have an SAS soldier stationed in every class that you go to," Mrs. Jones replied, "As well as some other classrooms."

Alex sighed audibly, "Alright. Just…make sure they don't give me away."

"Of course."

AGENTS*AND*ASSASSINATIONS

It was right after his first class when Alex's phone went off. He glanced down, narrowing his eyes at the contact. Joe Byrne. While Alex had a lot of respect for the guy, it didn't mean he wanted to converse with the man for no particular reason.

Alex picked up, "Rider."

"Alex!" Came Byrne's voice, "I heard about the situation. I just wanted to let you know that I've sent some of my agents to come to your school too."

Alex ran a hand through his blonde hair, "Is there a reason why you guys were on British soil?"

Byrne's laugh boomed in his ear, "Let's just say I owed MI6 one."

"Right." Alex said, unconvinced, "Listen, I appreciate it and all, but I've got to go-"

"Of course! You have school. Good luck," Byrne paused, "and don't die."

He hung up. Alex raised his eyebrows for the second time in the morning. He shook his head, unsure of what to make of that.

An SAS soldier that Alex recognized was waiting in his maths classroom. He recognized the man from his training three years previously. It was doubtful that the soldier would recognize him, though. Alex had grown out of his child-like face.

Alex sat, keeping an eye on the windows, the door, and the soldier all at once.

"Quiet down, class!" The teacher, a frail, elderly woman called, "As you may have heard, there is a situation that requires the presence of this fine soldier. And before you ask, no, I do not know what the situation is."

Whispers broke out throughout the class. Alex did his best to not appear suspicious. He cast another glance at the Hispanic man by the door. He was staring right back at Alex. So he did recognize him.

Alex phone vibrated in his pocket. Glancing quickly at the teacher, who had turned and was now writing something on the board, he checked his texts.

From: '5

Heard about it from Jones. Sent some help.

Alex snorted at this. MI5 being helpful? That was unlikely. They probably just didn't want to miss out on the fun.

He looked out the window, which gave a perfect view of the assembled soldiers and spies. From what Alex could tell, several of the men and women were arguing.

It was like a playdate for the military and military intelligence. Alex wanted to laugh.

"Mr. Rider," the teacher had turned back to them, "Would you like to tell us what is so funny?"

Alex quickly pocketed his phone, "Nothing, ma'am. I was just seeing how many people outside were arguing."

The teacher swiveled to the window and sniffed delicately, "I don't see anything funny about that."

Alex bit the inside of his cheek, "Yes, ma'am. Sorry."

AGENTS*AND*ASSASSINATIONS

By the end of lunch, Alex had received twelve texts from twelve different military intelligence agencies, offering their help. It was chaotic.

"Do you reckon they're all here for you?" Tom peered outside at the people milling around. Some were stripping their guns. Others were just arguing more.

"Yeah," Alex looked out, defeated, "You'd think they'd be smarter than to stand out there as targets."

A soldier that Alex vaguely recognized was standing close by. He took the liberty to tell Alex, "That's what they're arguing about. Intelligence wants to place people in strategic locations, while everyone else wants to barricade the doors."

'Everyone else' was the British Army, the Royal Air Force, and various special services groups.

"They could kill us through the air vents if they wanted to, too." Alex pointed out, not clarifying on who they were.

The soldier grinned, "That's what they're saying too. You're intelligence through and through, kid."

Alex scowled, walking away with Tom in tow. He was talking in gibberish until Alex asked, "I wonder who'll win: the spies or the soldiers."

Tom scrunched up his face into an exaggerated thinking face, "The soldiers."

"Nah," Alex smirked, "Definitely the spies.

In the end, it seemed that the spies did win. Alex grinned at his friends as they were about to leave, nudging Tom with a, "I told you so."

"Wait one moment, Mr. Rider!"

Alex turned to face a teacher. He couldn't quite remember his name, since he didn't have him as a teacher, but Alex was pretty sure his name was something like 'Mr. Waters'.

"Yes, sir?" Alex asked respectfully, though he was itching to go.

The man tried to look down on him disapprovingly, but Alex was a bit taller than the man, "Mr. Bray wants to see you for a quick moment before you leave. I hope you didn't do anything bad…?"

"No, sir," Alex quickly said, "He probably just wants to talk about my absences."

While Alex still disappeared frequently, each mission usually wasn't as long and his classmates mostly accepted his excuses of being sick.

"Right," the teacher didn't sound convinced, "Off you go."

Alex nodded his thanks and sped off to the office, waving at his friends over his shoulder. He entered, muttering a greeting to Miss Bedfordshire.

"Hello, Alex," she smiled kindly back, "Mr. Bray is waiting in his office. I think your guardian is with him."

Guardian? That was news. The only 'guardian' he had was the Bank…

He paled.

"Are you alright?" Miss Bedfordshire was looking at him, worried.

Alex forced a smile onto his face, "Yeah. Fine. Thanks, miss."

Miss Bedfordshire continued to stare after him, perplexed, as he strode over to the headmaster's office and knocked.

"Come in."

Alex tentatively looked around the room, noting Mrs. Jones in the seat before Mr. Bray's wooden desk and the two soldiers by the exit.

"What's going on?" Alex asked, closing the door behind him and making his way towards the empty chair next to Mrs. Jones.

Mr. Bray shifted uncomfortably, "Your guardian was just explaining your… situation… to me."

Alex stared at him for a moment, then rounded on Mrs. Jones, "You told him?"

Mrs. Jones looked faintly amused, "Yes, Alex. I told him how your uncle worked for the government and how he got tangled up with a gang with good connections while trying to take them down."

Alex inwardly relaxed, "Oh."

Mr. Bray fiddled with something on his desk, "I understand why you're always away and why there were so many military personnel-"

Gunfire broke through his sentence. The headmaster just sat there, looking stunned.

"We should get going." Mrs. Jones said, standing. Her face didn't display any emotion.

Mr. Bray gaped at her.

"Come on, Alex."

Alex followed the woman out the office, the soldiers trailing after him. She made her way briskly to the fresh air outside, and into an armored car.

He sat beside her, looking amused, "What was that all about?"

Mrs. Jones handed him a folder. Judging by the words on the top of it, the information that the folder contained was 'top secret'.

"What's this?" Alex raised an eyebrow at her.

Mrs. Jones motioned for him to open it, "At approximately 0132 hours, a COBRA meeting was called. Because of the threat and the fact that we couldn't get you out of school safely, I decided to extract you after the school day ended. We're a bit late for the meeting, but it should be fine."

"Does this meeting have anything to do with me? And the threat?"

Mrs. Jones reached in her pocket and pulled out a peppermint, "Oh, Alex. It always has to do with you."

A/N: LOL. That idea came to me while I was studying for the three tests that I have today... It's a bit disorganized, but...

Tell me how good/bad you thought it was! And don't be afraid to tell me that it's bad...

I'm thinking of writing a Classified: COBRA Edition, following my "Classified" mini-series. WHAT DO YOU THINK?

I'm going to go cry in a corner now. Stupid tests.

-Alice