A/N: I have read a few reading the Alex rider books stories, but most were set in the past or did not get very far. This is my first Alex Rider story and only my second fanfiction. I'm hoping to be able to finish Stormbreaker, but I would love feedback to improve the writing style! Thanks in advance for any reviews. Hope you enjoy my story.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Alex Rider characters that feature in the books and any writing in bold was written by Anthony Horowitz, who is an amazing author!
Fifteen-year-old Alex Rider was already awake when the telephone rang, despite it being 5 o'clock in the morning. With a heavy heart, he reached over from his bed and picked up the phone, currently playing a James Bond theme tune. This always failed to amuse him, but he still couldn't work out how to edit the ringtone of the old phone from Smithers. Not that it mattered anyway, Alex thought wearily, seeing as he never let it ring more than twice anyway.
"Hello?" he said calmly, as if being called before the sun had risen was an ordinary experience. But then again, he supposed, after everything he had been through, it probably was.
The voice was cold, calculating, always a step ahead, and a wave of despair washed over Alex, he was going back. Back to missions, back to missing school, to the fear. The nightmares still haunted him from the rest of his missions, and waking up shaking in a cold sweat had become part of his routine. It was only two weeks since he had returned from Kenya, and anger rose up inside of him. Could they really disrupt his pathetic attempt at ordinary life so soon?
"What do you want?" Alex's voice shook with rage, but his mind was made up. There was nothing left for them to blackmail him with now, he and Jack had agreed. They could send her back to America if they liked, but nothing would convince Alex to go on another mission.
"There is a situation that has arisen that needs your immediate attention. If you come at 9 o'clock to the Royal and General bank then Smithers can fully explain it." Alex kept the phone to his ear until he heard the operator telling him that the other person has cleared. Lowering the phone onto the cradle, his brain was buzzing. Was this a mission? Something about the tone of the head's voice told him that something was out of the ordinary, but he was still shaking from the aftermath of the horrific nightmare. He couldn't figure it out now.
Instead he slid his feet out of bed and flat onto the smooth wooden floor. From Jack's gentle snoring, he knew she hadn't been disturbed by the phone call, and Alex was glad. He had put her through enough, and would put her through even more tomorrow. She needed her sleep for that. However, there was a small, selfish part of him that wished she had been awoken by the strange conversation. The house was so quiet, so lonely in the mornings. He pushed the thoughts aside, and started to help himself to some cornflakes. He would need the strength.
As the automatic doors of the bank slid open, a wall of cool air hit Alex with the force of a steamroller, and memories started to rise up inside him. He pushed them down and then, with a small look behind him to the receptionist, made his way towards the lift. He was starting to regret insisting that Jack stayed behind. He knew it was for the best, keeping her away from his world, but he missed the sense of comfort she brought, always on his side. Then the doors of the lift slid open, with an air of foreboding, he stepped inside just as the doors shut. When he arrived at the correct floor, he found Crawley waiting for him outside the lift. Alex found it ironic that only a short amount of time ago he had been in the same position, but innocent and blissfully unaware that his life would be shattered in the space of a year.
Crawley knocked once on Alan Blunt's office door, and Alex heard a faint,
"enter," just before Crawley pushed open the door. As Alex walked in, the first person he noticed was Smithers. It was hard not to, he was wearing an orange and green polka dot shirt, and a pair of knee length shorts in a sort of beige. He also had on his head a wide straw hat, giving the overall impression that he had just returned from a holiday in the Bahamas. When he spotted Alex, a wide grin spread across his face, displacing at least two of the many chins he has.
"Alex!" he boomed, "we have an exciting prospect on our hands, please sit down." Smithers pressed a button on his belt, and a panel lifted from the wall nearest Alex, allowing a squishy armchair to position itself next to the boy. As Alex sat down, he contemplated that the strangest thing wasn't even the chair moving, it was that the button itself had just appeared to be an ordinary one holding up Smithers' shorts. But, he supposed, the gadget master must always have more than a few tricks up his sleeve.
Jones cleared her throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable with how the situation was getting out of hand. Blunt on the other hand, showed no such signs of irritation, apart from, Alex noted, slightly moving his eyebrows upward. Then the head spoke.
"Yesterday evening a package containing nine books was delivered to us from an unknown origin." Blunt exchanged looks with Mrs. Jones, and Alex waited for him to continue, but was growing uneasy.
"We have analysed them thoroughly and can find no trace of…" but Mrs. Jones interrupted.
"They were books about you Alex."
A/N: I will update within the next week, please review I have never had one before!