This is my first Alex Rider fan-fic, no flames please. I won't do the whole disclaimer thing, we all know the drill. You give reviews, I write.
Death Comes Quickly
The point to life is Death.
I am a wanted man. A free man, but a wanted man. Some people say I am heartless, some say worse. But no matter how many people I kill, I still have a heart.
Dawn found Yassen sitting on the end off his bed, deep in thought. One thought in particular. When he was just beginning his training, on his first assassination assignment in the Amazon. By the end of the assignment he was in debt to John Rider. A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts. His head flicked to face the door as one of the guards that dotted the SCORPIA compound opened the door and stepped inside.
"What?" Yassen asked.
"The top wants you." The guard said.
By 'the top' he meant the board members, the heads of SCORPIA. He stood, and stepped out of his small cabin. The guard followed him to the main building, were he told Yassen to go inside, as there was another guard at the doors of the board room. He stepped inside into the chill airconditioned building, and walked towards the board room door. The guard stationed at the door stopped him, and radioed inside. A response came, mixed with the static. But Yassen heard the answer clearly.
"Let him in." the guard opened the door and let him through. He stepped though the heavy wood doors of the boardroom and into chilling silence. He took the spare seat, allocated, he presumed, for him. He tilted his head to look up the table at the man sitting at the head of the table. The man skimmed the last sentence of the paper in his hands, then looked up to address the board members and Yassen.
"We have an assignment for you. Darrius Sayle, a man who has invented a super computer called Stormbreaker. The MI6 is suspicious." The man stated. Another board member spoke up.
"You know the rules, anyone suspicious, find out what they came for, then kill them." He said.
"Sounds simple enough." Yassen felt no need to waste words. The first board member spoke again.
"Your flight leaves at four pm. You will arrive at Edinburgh airport. From there, you will be taken to Sayle's compound, in Cornwall, were you will spend the duration of the assignment. You will be his head of security. It seemed fitting. You have the facts, you may leave." The man waved his hand at the door, indicating that he left quickly. Yassen stood, and walked out of the boardroom, back into the main building.
When Yassen got back to his room, he pulled a metal case from under his bed. He flicked open the clips, and opened the case, revealing an assortment of weapons. Two slim guns and a larger model with a silencer, both with ample ammunition. He lifted that compartment, and checked that the arrangement of knives was still in place. The deadly blades glistened in the low light of the afternoon. He nodded and replaced the compartment, and closed the case, flicking the locks back into place. He pulled another case from under his bed, and packed it with clothes. Yassen grabbed his black jacket of the end of his bed, slung it over his arm and picked up the two cases. HE walked out of the doors, meeting the two guards who escorted him to SCORPIA's private airport.
A small Cessna waited for him. As per usual, only Yassen, the pilot and two guards boarded the plane. Once they were seated, the pilot radioed in to the control tower for clear takeoff. A moment later. The small plane lifted off the tarmac and headed towards London.
"A long flight. Better settle in." the pilot, a SCORPIA agent, commented to his passengers. Yassen peered out his window and watched as the airport faded to toy sized buildings and small glints of silver. He then settled back into his seat and, like all assassins, took this chance to sleep. Yassen guessed that he would be up the next night, being showed around the compound and organizing the security to his liking. He shifted again, then settled into a deeper sleep.
He awoke as the plane banked to land at Edinburgh, and shook his head to clear sleep away from his brain. The wheels touched the tarmac with a slight bump, and the small plane slowed, just behind the main buildings. A grey Prado was waiting off the side of the tarmac, presumably from Sayle's compound. The pilot opened the door, and stepped back as Yassen jumped out of the plane. One of the doors of the four-wheel drive opened and a man dressed in casual clothes stepped out, and walked over to Yassen.
"Lets not waste time on formal greetings, Sayle's waiting. He doesn't like to wait." The man said. He seemed almost scared of the thought of what Sayle would do if they were late. Yassen nodded, and walked over to the car. He opened the door, and slid into the car. The air inside smelt of clean leather, like a new car. It was too clean for any ordinary car, it must only be used when Sayle went out of the compound. The car started into smooth motion and slid out the gates without questioning. They drove until they reached a small, out of town private airstrip. Another small plane was waiting. Yassen was tiring of planes. The two guards parked the car in a garage, and accompanied him on this flight.
That must be the car they use to pick up people from around England, that's why it's used so little. Yassen thought. This flight was quicker, and they landed on an airstrip inside the compound. They walked over to the gates, were three guards with loaded machine guns were standing. Seeing the other two with Yassen, they let him through. The men lead him down a hallway, just of were the gates were, and stopped at the first room they came to.
"That's your room, Sayle said unpack, and meet him at the guardhouse in ten minutes." The first man said. Then he turned and walked away.
"Another guard will collect you when it is time." The last man said, then turned and followed the first one.
Yassen opened the door to a small, bare room, decorated with only a bed, a wardrobe and a small table at the head of his bed. Yassen slid the silver case under the bed and the other case he left, packed at the foot of his bed. He then inspected the rest of the room. The bedside table was made of a dark plastic, as was the wardrobe. He opened the doors of the wardrobe. Inside was just a plain ordinary wardrobe, with a set of draws put inside. He closed the wardrobe just as someone knocked on his door. Without waiting, the guard slung the door open. Yassen strode past him into the hallway. The guard started off towards the on base warehouse.
Yassen followed, and stepped into the chill of the evening air. The sun was just setting, dying the top of the barb wire fences gold and red. Gentle pattering on the roof of the covered walkway between the building and the guard house signalled rain, maybe to get heavier. As they entered the guard house, they were met by a man with a slightly balding line of dark hair, and cold, grey eyes. He was dressed in an expensive suit, with black shoes so well polished they shone like mirrors. He was only as tall as Yassen's shoulder, but he still emitted an air of extreme wealth.
"Welcome!" he exclaimed. "I trust your flight was comfortable?" Yassen nodded. The man continued at a pace not normal of conversation. "I am Darrius Sayle, as you may have guessed." He chuckled, seeming at the last statement. "Well, lets not stand here gibbering, let me show you around!" he then started off through the rest of the guardhouse, and out the other door, towards the on base warehouse. They stepped through the door into what looked like an un-loading doc. Sayle waved his hand towards the room.
"This is where everything we use to build our software comes in. regular guards are allowed in here, but no further. They stepped into the next room, much larger, filled with boxes and crates on shelves, some unpacked on tables.
"Now, this is where we sort the cargo. Only guards appointed by me, and with a pass signed by me, are allowed in here. Any other guard caught in here is fired." Sayle continued towards a staircase leading underground. They entered an underground city, it seemed, filled with machines humming, and workers in white suits. Doors led to many other rooms, but those Sayle seemed uninterested in.
"This is the main building, the real place of interest. This is where we build our wonderful computers. Only the workers and extremely privileged guards are allowed here." Sayle led them on a full circuit of the room, before heading back up the staircase, and through the upstairs warehouse. They walked back through the guardhouse, and into the building where Yassen's room was. The other three doors in the building were open. Sayle ignored the first two, and went straight to the one next to Yassen's. They walked into surveillance room.
"This room needs no explanation, and all guards are allowed in here." Sayle said. They walked out of that building and towards the gate. There, under the light of the huge spotlights that shone from on top of the gate house, Yassen could see the airstrip stretching into the darkness.
"At the end of there airstrip, there's another guardhouse, only with three guards, and a communication rooms for the comings and goings on the airstrip." Sayle said. "Well this concludes the tour, I'll leave you to organise the guards." Sayle continued back through the complex to his house. Yassen turned to the guard that had accompanied him on the tour.
"Is there a way we can call together all the guards at the gate?" He asked. The man nodded, and radioed out to all the guards.
"All squads report to gate ASAP. All guards." Yassen heard mutters and bangs coming from the guardhouse, and soon forty guards stood in line before him. The guard that stood beside him handed him a roster. It read that two guards patrolled each stretch of fence, and four stood the gate the rest helped with delivery. Yassen stood in thought for a moment then straightened up.
"Right, here it is, I want two guards patrolling the fence between each flood-light. I want the guards who are stationed at the airstrip guardhouse to have two guards patrolling around there, and one on communications. I want five on the gate. The rest help with the deliveries. Those who would usually be on patrol now, start the new roster." Yassen saw disbelief in some guards, some anger. That he had to fix. "Any one who doesn't like this can take it up with me. Dismissed." Immediately, seventeen guards broke away from the group and began the patrols and new roster. The rest started back to the guardhouse. Yassen faced the guard beside him. "When is the next delivery?"
"11:30 tonight." The man said. Yassen looked at the clock on the wall. It read 9:25.
"Good, dismissed until then." The man gratefully walked towards the guardhouse. Yassen followed. He stopped at surveillance and checked everything was working. He told one of the guards stationed there to wake him at 11:00, and continued back to his room, were he slept until the guard woke him.
Yassen stood, and pulled his coat on, opening the door. The guard handed him a radio, then walked back into the surveillance room. Yassen checked the radio was on and walked towards the warehouse. There was a squad of ten guards waiting there. The radio in Yassen's hand crackled;
"He's cleared, and coming." Soon, the truck was backing into the open door of the un-loading room. Yassen gave orders to unpack the crates and boxes, and leave them on the shelves for the sorters.
The night wore on, with day dawning to find Yassen heading back to his room after another delivery. All up, he had had only four hours sleep. He planned to sleep for another two hours. He got to his room, and slung his jacket over the end of his bed. Without further notice, he collapsed on his bed and was soon deep asleep.