This is my first Alex Rider fic...so don't be toooooo mean, OK?

Heheh anyway, this is after Jack dies, so Alex is obviously pretty depressed etc...

DISCLAIMER – I own nothing :( I wish I did, but this entire world is the amazing story of another person :( (danngg)

Anyways...ON WITH THE 'STORY'!

'Alex!' someone yelled.

Alex jumped. Normally he was more alert, but he must have lost focus, or something. He looked around hurriedly. Who was yelling?

He sighed when he remembered he was in class. Mr Fosbery was glaring at him. The teacher hadn't liked him since he started disappearing for his missions, or in this case, his 'sickness'.

'Mmmm?' Alex responded, to the reddening teacher.

'I asked you a question!'

'Umm...yeah. I sort of realised. What were you asking me?' Alex responded lazily.

'You were obviously not listening.'

'No, I obviously wasn't. Otherwise I would have answered,' he snapped. He knew it was a mistake, but he honestly couldn't care less.

Mr Fosbery's eyebrow went up. 'Excuse me?' He reddened some more, if that was even possible. Right now he look like an extremely fat tomato. Alex stifled a grin.

'That's a detention for you, Mr Rider. I would have hoped by now that talking like that to your superior is not the correct behavior in this school.' Those who hadn't looked up from their work before, were now staring intently, some at the teacher, some at the boy.

Alex had bristled at the word, "superior". Mr Fosbery was not superior over Alex. Alex was tired of stupid men claiming they were the better person, just because they were bigger, or older. The grin that had he had valiantly been struggling against, was gunned down mercilessly as Alex came to terms with his punishment.

Mr Fosbery was fat, lazy and to be honest, quite dumb. Often Alex (and he wasn't the only student) knew more than Mr Fosbery did. In fact, he quite looked like the plump, shaven version of Damian Cray.

On more than more occasion, Alex could have sworn that Damian Cray walked into the class in the mornings to teach English.

In Alex's world, Alex was superior. He was smarter, faster, fitter and stronger than the older man, to list the common factors. And that's what you needed to survive in his world. Not age – and Alex had proved that many times over.

When Alex hadn't responded to the statement, however, Mr Fosbery snapped him out of his thoughts, 'Alex!'

Alex looked up at him from his desk, and raised his eyebrows. 'Sir!' he mimicked Mr Fosbery's aggravated tone.

'You will answer me when I say something to you! Is that clear?'

Alex didn't say anything for a while. This reminds me of Brecon Beacons, Alex thought. Just like the sergeant. Finally, he sneered, 'Yes, sir.'

He was tired of all these people trying to control him. He was not a bloody toy. It was bad enough that MI6 gave him enough trouble, after Jack died.

No, Alex thought, not that name. You do not think about her. Ever.

He shoved the thought to the cramped space in the back of his mind – things he refused to think about.

MI6, however, didn't care that Alex's housekeeper, and closest friend had just died. In fact Alex was sure, that he would get a call anytime soon, from them.

Alex, we need you to complete this one mission in...

Alex, it's just a small...

Alex, it's for the good of the country...

Alex, the country needs you...

And perhaps the most infuriating things they used to say to him:

It seems, Alex, that your housekeeper Jack, well...she might need to visit her mother in America?

Or, You never know, something might come up and her VISA will expire, don't you think?

Alex would then just grit his teeth and get on with it. What else was he supposed to do?

But they had tried to convince him to go on a mission to Africa recently. He had gotten a call, saying it was regarding the house and Jack's funeral. What a lie that was.

As much as Alex despised the building, he would still walk through the bank any day for Jack.

But this time, what did they have against him?

Nothing, and they knew it. As soon as the funeral plans and such were dealt with, they went straight onto trying to ship him off to another continent.

They used the country needs you, and do it for us, but Alex would hear nothing of it. He was in no state of mind to go on another mission just after Jack had-

Stop it, he growled mentally. He refused to think of her.

So he had stormed out of the bank, with Ms Jones following him to the doorstep. As she tried to grab his shoulder he shook her off, and gave her the finger without looking back.

So here he was...sitting in a bland English room with absolutely nothing to do. He already knew the work of Shakespeare the class was studying, so he was sitting, looking at the various posters around the room – the failed attempts of colour, to try and make the place more interesting.

After what seemed like years, the lunch bell sung loudly outside the classroom.

Alex didn't have any food – he woke up too late and forgot – so he would have to go hungry for the morning.

Occasionally Doris the canteen lady would give him pick of what wasn't bought that day, or on some good days she would sneak him one of the better choices. Other than Tom, Doris was one of the few people Alex could actually have a conversation with, without subtle (or not so subtle) questions thrown into the chat about his absences.

When people challenged him about his not-so-plausible excuses, Alex often used these opportunities by telling the people far-fetched stories to see what sort of things would spread.

The theory on Alex's recent absence wasn't far from truth – in fact, it was about him blowing up a rocket in outer space. However how he got up there – or back down – remained speculation.

As Alex walked to the canteen, ex-friends whispered and stared at him with unguarded eyes. If Alex was in a bad mood, he would often glare back at them, but today he just didn't have the energy.

The buzz of his phone attracted even more eyes. He pulled it out and saw the number on the screen. Alex had put the name on as Do not pick up. However he recognised the long thread of numbers.

But, just to stir up some people around him, he smashed the answer button with his thumb and held it up:

"Uh-huh?" he growled.

"Alex, before you hang up, we have to tell you that there is the review that must be taken by every...employee, by the heads of our company," Ms Jones rushed out.

Alex eyebrows rose – heads of british intelligence? Wouldn't that just be Blunt?

No, if Blunt wanted to talk then they would just tell him to come.

"Mmmkay...What if I refuse to come in?" he faked a cheery voice.

'Well...it isn't optional. But- but Alex, this is the best option. If you don't come in voluntarily...then..." Alex laughed as she trailed off.

"Force? You would come to my house, and force me to come to your little interview?" Alex couldn't help from grinning.

"No," the voice gained confidence, "we would come to your school – today – and we'll take you from there."

Alex stopped in his tracks. The people listening and watching started, registering the shock on his face. Not much startled Alex.

He sighed – he wouldn't win this one. He thought he would have escaped the dreaded bank and the people part of it, once Jack had died. Obviously not.

"What time?"

"As soon as possible." Alex couldn't see Ms Jones, but could hear the triumph in her voice.

"Fine. But this is the last fucking time I will see you guys. I come to this, and you leave me alone, otherwise I will do something about it."

"But Alex -"

"No, just shut up," and he hung up.

People were staring at him openly now. Alex could imagine the rumours that would go through the school once he skipped next class.

Alex forgot about the canteen run – the talk had made him lose his appetite. So, he simply slipped his phone into his pocket and turned on his heel.

When he was just stepping off school campus, a teacher (Alex thought) called his name, but he ignored it. He got to a bike rack around the block, outside a deli, and undid the lock.

It took ten minutes to ride to the 'bank' and he walked in, bike included. Leaning the bike against the far wall, Alex proceeded to walk into the lift that would take him to floor with Blunt and Ms Jones.

The security didn't stop him – they saw him enough, unluckily for Alex, to recognise him as one of their own – and he sauntered straight through.

Eventually the doors reopened with a ding, and Alex stepped out. Walking down the hallway, he found the gray door that led to the equally gray man.

He didn't knock. He simply slammed open the door, striding across the room to slouch down on the only empty chair.

He didn't acknowledge the other 5 people standing around the table.

When no one said anything, Alex growled, "Let's get this over with, then."

"Alex, may I, uh, speak with you privately?" Ms Jones asked.

Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't deny the request.

They walked outside, where Ms Jones quickly started talking.

"Alex, this is a review on your character and mental well-being in the job. They found your file very...interesting. Your review would have been next year, but I'm afraid they thought to bring it forward. Best get it over with they said. Now, they are going to be asking some strange questions, but I suggest you answer them how you think a boy your age would answer. Blunt and I, we think it's best if you appear to be no more than a teenage boy – otherwise they might try to use you on other missions. And if they think that you are no longer mentally stable, then they will get you help," she warned, emphasising the word 'help'.

Wow, straight to the point, Alex thought.

"So make sure you say the right things, OK?" Alex smiled slightly and nodded.

They walked back in, and Blunt was standing now, the other five people sitting around the table.

Alex sat straight down, and looked at each of them directly. For a while, they simply sat studying each other. Eventually, Alex got bored and started reading old texts on his phone, simply uncaring of them writing notes down.

"So, Alex, how are you?" A man on his left asked.

"I'm just fantastic. And how are you?" he asked sarcastically. Blunt glared at him from behind the strangers. They wanted teenager? Then they'll get teenager – moody, bored, snappy...everything.

He grinned inwardly.

The man gave no response, simply scrawled down some notes and didn't look back up.

After a pause, a woman on Alex's right asked him:

"Who is your closest family member?"

Why were they asking him this? They would have all of this on file.

They want to see my reaction to their questions...Alex realised.

"Tom Harris," with a blank face.

"And how is he related to you Alex?" she asked again.

"We go to the same school," he growled, looking at Blunt. If Alex was never involved in this then there might have been a proper family member to list. Not that he was related to Jack anyway, but he felt closer to her then he did anyone else.

"But you're not related to him?"

He looked at her blankly, "Is he in my file under the list of living relatives?"

Eyebrows raised, she shook her head. "Then I guess we know the answer to that question then."

Then a thought hit Alex. If these were the heads of the British Intelligence... He looked up at Blunt, who was standing. He saw his apprehension, the only trace of emotion on his weathered face.

Theywere his superior.

And so, then he could reveal their blackmail, once and for all. Blunt must have seen the realisation on Alex' face, and Alex couldn't help but grin. Blunt knew that Alex knew.

Before he could say anything, Alex chimed. "Next question then."

"What is your biggest fear?"

He gave it pause for thought – he had to make it sound normal, but hinting. Hopefully they would get the drift and ask him some more revealing questions.

If he just blurted out what MI6 did to him, then it would be totally his fault for telling them – Blunt wouldn't be happy, basically.

"Being trapped probably," he pretended to admit shamefully.

The woman saw it wasn't an entirely truthful answer and asked if he would elaborate.

"Oh, you know. Physically. I guess you could say I'm slightly claustrophobic. But more so mentally – you know, if people have you trapped in little games if your being tortured. If they can use things against you." He looked up again at Blunt meaningfully and the man winced, ever so slightly.

The woman wrote notes down again, then she asked another question.

Not really a question. It was full throttle, straight to the point.

"Tell us about Jack."

There was a pause, and Alex was almost shocked. He should have expected it though. It's probably why they were having the meeting earlier.

Alex didn't show anything physically, but mentally he was screaming at himself, warning him not to open the dusty cramped box in the back of his mind where he hid memories of Jack.

Finally, he looked her in the eyes, and answered.

"No."

This time they were surprised.

"That wasn't a question Alex. Tell us about Jack."

He laughed bitterly, and growled, "Make me."

They looked at Alex in surprise – Blunt and Ms Jones in irritated expressions.

To answer the faces, Alex hissed, eyes narrow, "You have no right to ask me after she just recently died. If I was never involved in this business, then she wouldn't have died, would she? So, forgive me,' he said sarcastically, almost wanting to add a little bow, "if I don't want to tell five complete, emotionless robots who have no concern for someone like me. And don't give me all that crap of, to be in this business, you must not grow attachments. Well guess what? I'm not an adult. I don't want to handle situations like this. So I see no reason for you to get angry at me for not answering your unreasonable question."

It took a moment for the heads to regain their composure. No amount of training had prepared them for a remark like that. Finally, the woman snapped out of the trance and said, "OK, Alex. We respect your feelings towards the matter." They probably didn't push the subject further, simply because they got a response to the question and that's all they needed. But they still wrote notes down. The scratch of their pens on the paper annoyed Alex immensely.

There was a break while they wrote down several notes and talked among themselves quietly. Alex simply glared at them the whole while, occasionally switching to Blunt and Ms Jones.

Finally:

"Do you have a role model? An inspiration?"

Alex, having recovered from his previous rant, grinned (still somewhat angrily) – this was too perfect. "Mmm, there aren't many people that inspire me, if you will. But I could say this one man did help me on more than one occasion. He spared my life a couple of times, as well as helping with some of my extra training."

There was a pause, while the heads waited for an answer. During this time, Alex stared up at Blunt, showing no emotion. Simply satisfied. He finally had the opportunity to crush Blunt. The man that had screwed his life up for so long. The man that had sent him on mission after mission after mission.

"And can we know who this man is, Alex?"

The teenager laughed, "Yassen Gregorovich, of course!"

The heads paled. "Alex, you...you knew who that man was, right?"

Alex looked confused...how should he play this? "What? You mean the man that worked with my father? The assassin?" he paused and gave a shark smile to the heads, "The one who sent me to SCORPIA for training? Yeah, I knew that man."

The heads still looked pale as they turned to Blunt and Ms Jones. The woman asked, "How were we uniformed of this...this event?"
Before the startled pair could respond, Alex feigned more confusion, "What do you mean? Don't they tell you where I was for that time? Ha! Well, to tell you briefly, I was sent to SCORPIA by Yassen Gregorovich to join the organisation. And I did join. I learnt more in that short time then I did while I was here. Especially, you know, combat fighting, shooting and so on." Alex didn't mention that the people in SCORPIA respected him more than MI6 did. Neither did he mention his attempt on Ms Jones life either.

Continuing, he flicked his chin towards Blunt and Jones, "Didn't they tell you about all the missions they made me do?"

He didn't emphasise the last few words, but the heads heard the statement. They seemed to ignore the long statement before the last few words. They turned slowly back to Alex; "Made you?"

Thinking about it later, Alex would wonder why they hadn't told their superiors what they made their little blonde minion do. As young as he was, Alex had been told – and hated the fact – that if you wanted to survive you had to obey your superiors. At least that's what Alex was told by people. And you certainly wouldn't keep secrets from people as big as these five seemed.

This might be his last - his only - opportunity to expose MI6, and Alex wasn't going to waste it.

"Yeah, it's not like I wanted to go on all those missions. But they didn't give me much choice about it – especially with Jack," he swallowed, not entirely sure himself, whether he was acting or not and continued, "...with Jack having a VISA that could 'expire at any moment.'" He mimicked Blunt. "I had to go on the mission or else they would send her back to America, and send me to some crappy boarding school." He paused and let his acting skills to kick in, (not that he needed them), "They blackmailed me." He said the three words with a perfectly straight face.

Blunt was turning pale; it looks like their little interview wasn't going as well as they had hoped. Not much showing off of their secret weapon here.

"So your saying you had no choice in the matter of your missions?" Alex nodded.

"And just how many missions were you forced to complete?" the woman didn't look up from her notebook.

"15, since I started."

"And you started...?"

"When my uncle died."

"Ian Rider I presume?"

"Obviously." Alex was growing tired of these bombardments of questions.

One of the heads smiled slightly at his bored remark – despite the situation. Alex wasn't bored, but he didn't want to make a big deal out of this. The heads could do that themselves.

"Just a few more questions, Alex." The man that smiled said to the teenager.

Eventually, one of the heads (one that hadn't said anything so far) seemed to pluck up the courage and ask, "If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?"

Alex had to think about this for a moment. What would he be? He didn't want to be a spy anymore...but he couldn't go back to school and have a proper education.

He wanted to be a footballer, and had been told he had the potential – though he himself doubted it – but he didn't think he could do that now.

"I'd join SAS, as soon as I could. I don't want to be a spy, so as soon as I can, I'm getting away from this place," he motioned broadly, "Then I don't know, just stay in SAS I guess. I didn't entirely enjoy my team from the SAS training, but I'm sure that if I went back there now, they might respect me more. I apparently wasn't worth much to them back then. Nothing more than a hindrance, I guess."

"And when would you join? Would you go back to school first?"

"No, I know all that I need from there. Like I said, I would join the SAS as soon as possible."

"OK. What quality do people have to have – what should people be – to live in this world, Alex?"

They didn't specify what they meant by 'this world', but it was fairly obvious. The man wouldn't be asking about the life outside espionage.

Thoughtful eyes trailed around the bland room. Almost as bad as my English room.

Finally, "Capable."

And he left it at that.

All eyes trained on him, "And do you think you are capable?"

"Anyone with a 100% streak is obviously capable," he said gruffly, no smile on his face.

"Thank you Alex. If the other heads and I could have a private word with Mr Blunt and Ms Jones now, please?"

He laughed and smiled at Blunt. "Of course."

As he turned away, he let himself smile, ever so slightly – he might have just exposed Blunt for the monster he was. Alex closed the door and walked on the spot, slowing making the noises quieter and quieter – eventually it sounded like he had walked away. Finally he heard a strained voice from behind the door.

Sucks to be you, Blunt.

Should this be a one-shot? Or should I have him go onto Brecon Beacons? I dunno, whether or not it's in this one, I'll do a story where he goes back. What do you think?

That little review button down there looks lonely. Maybe you should click it ;)

T xxx