Prologue

Yassen Gregorovich had always been a careful man, but he had spent the last two years being especially so. You had to take precautions when you were meant to be dead. Because of his care, never before had Yassen been surprised by anything. Until now. Somehow, despite all the security measures he'd taken, someone had made it into his home. He could hear them now, breathing softly on the other side of the Living Room's door. As quietly as humanely possible, the Russian brought his silenced Grach MP-443 up, ready to kill if need be. Slowly, Yassen pushed the door open, revealing the modern room on the other side. No sooner had he stepped forward then he spun around to grab the hilt of the knife that came flying. Without pausing he blocked the savage kick that followed. For a few minutes, Yassen Gregorovich struggled with his attacker before throwing them to the ground. Raising his gun again, Yassen waited to see what he was up against. As the intruder stepped into a beam of moonlight, he felt the unfamiliar sensation of surprise jolt him. His intuition told him straight away that tonight was going to be a long one.

His attacker, so skilled in stealth and attack, was a girl, no older then 16. Seemingly amused by his reaction, she spoke quietly in a faint but definite Russian accent.

"I'm not sure why you are so surprised, you never were by Alex Rider."

The mention of the MI6 teen spy immediately put Yassen on edge. Tightening his grip on the Grach, he asked slowly and suspiciously,

"How do you know things like that, they're meant to be 'top secret'?"

The girl before him didn't answer immediately; she paused to flick her short, spiky hair out of her face. For the first time, Yassen saw her eyes and almost said something. If not for the suppressed rage hidden in their depths, they could have been his own. Then she spoke and he returned his attention to her words.

"MI6 has made many enemies; didn't you think someone as young as me could hate England's Secret Service?"

Yassen realized what she was trying to tell him, she was no enemy of his. Never lowering his aim, Yassen gestured to a chair across from his.

"Tell me everything, who you are, why you hate MI6, what you're doing here and how you know of Alex Rider."

Smirking coldly, the girl sat and stretched.

"Or what?"

What little emotion had crept into Yassen Gregorovich's voice and eyes abruptly left.

"Or you'll quickly discover I always leave my guns loaded."

The girl nodded as though something had been confirmed and murmured to herself in Russian. Then, she looked up at him and smiled mirthlessly.

"My name is Ivana and I have an interesting story to tell."