Author: wolfern PM
The world's largest urban warfare training compound. Forty British commandos are being hunted by an American battalion. The British have an ace up their sleeves: CHERUB. But so do the Americans, whether they know it or not. CHERUB, meet Alex Rider.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Alex R./Cub - Chapters: 6 - Words: 7,342 - Reviews: 40 - Favs: 40 - Follows: 50 - Updated: 05-27-12 - Published: 04-05-12 - Status: Complete - id: 7991603
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Thus, I disclaim.
AN: This story begins at the start of The General, by Robert Muchamore.
The young man wearing a trenchcoat stepped out of his black Porsche onto the crowded footpath, shutting the car door behind him. Men and women swarmed around him in business suits, like so many bees in a hive, of which he was just another insect, just another stranger. Nothing to worry about, and nothing to draw attention. Ignoring them, he moved off the busy footpath and strode up the few steps to the entrance of London's Crowne Plaza Hotel.
Entering the heated building, he removed his black calfskin gloves, rubbing his hands slightly to warm them. From the entrance, he moved purposefully through the lobby to the pair of golden doors waiting at the other end. He reached out with a slender finger and pressed the up button for the elevator. After a short wait, in which his eyes flicked casually over his surroundings, the doors opened and the man stepped inside.
Arriving at the door to his room, he reached into one of his pockets and retrieved a plastic card. Deftly he swiped it, twisting the door handle when a green light flashed. He entered the carpeted room and slid off his shoes, leaving them beside the door. Almost as if predicting his presence, the phone on the kitchenette counter rang. When he picked it up, a cool female voice informed him of an external caller bearing the name 'Tom'. Grinning a little, he accepted the call.
"Hi Tom. What have you got for me?"
A beat. His eyes widened slightly.
"Really? How 'bout you come here and tell me all about it . . . Ten minutes? . . . Great."
He replaced the phone on its holder.
Tom arrived in ten minutes precisely. Alex greeted him at the door with a cup of hot chocolate – his favourite drink. The cup was accepted with enthusiasm and the two made their way to the sofa. Alex could see Tom was barely containing his excitement, so he humoured the other and, instead of making Tom wait as usual, let him inform Alex of the latest news.
Since learning of Alex's long involvement in the world of spies, Tom's obsession with espionage and the military had been awakened. The man kept his ears to the ground and always made sure to pass on any bits of juicy gossip he heard.
The latest news was of a recent initiative by the Americans to train their soldiers in urban warfare. There had been a few military exercises between various teams comprised of American soldiers. Now they had invited British troops to train on a joint military exercise, with the British acting as the enemy. A Ukranian, Kazakov, had been nominated as a British team commander. The interesting thing was that MI5 (fondly known as 'the Security Mob' by MI6 agents) had been secretly training orphaned children to spy, much as Alex had been. These kids were called 'CHERUBs'.
There was a rumour that Kazakov would be using ten of these teen-spies to gain an advantage over the Americans, against whom he held a private vendetta. Alex couldn't bring himself to be even slightly annoyed at anyone about the whole child spy thing, really. It wasn't as if MI6 had known about the other child spies, and it was all a long time ago – well, long enough for Alex to have become a legal adult.
Tom declared it would be a very exciting experience, and wouldn't it be nice for Alex to show Tom how a real spy worked? Alex wasn't sure, but Tom certainly was. If Alex didn't want to come, then that was his problem, and nothing to do with Tom, who would be going at all costs. Alex decided he should accompany Tom. Just to even the stakes on both sides. That was the only reason. Really.