Journey - REVISED EDITION

SCORPIA

DISCLAIMER: Do I look like an older British dude? I thought not. No, of course I don't own Alex Rider...honestly, it's perfectly obvious.

Soon after arriving, Fox got called into the Sargent's office for the third time in the last 24 hours. He didn't like the thought of leaving Alex alone for even a minute but he had no choice. Besides, the unit would probably still be in the cabin, with the knowledge that their newest team member would be arriving soon.

"Sir." He clicked his heels together, saluting. The sound of the AC was disturbingly loud.

"Fox. It seems that Blunt has retired." The Sargent's voice was tired, but Fox barely registered it.

Blunt.

Had.

Retired.

"What?" He finally managed to get out.

"Why don't you have a seat, soldier." The Sargent gestured to a nearby chair.

Fox collapsed into it. His shock must have been written across his features because the Sargent's voice softened marginally.

"Mrs. Jones has taken over. She wants Alex, or Cub," Here he gave Fox a knowing look, "taken to another safe house as soon as possible. Her excuse is that this place hasn't had a background check in months and there is a possibility that Scorpia might have infiltrated it. In which case..."

"Alex could be in danger." Fox finished for him, the pieces finally falling into place.

"Yes. K-Unit has already been informed, but I wanted to tell your personally that I-"

His voice was cut off by gunshots. Shouts and running feet sounded from outside.

"Alex." They both said, standing up and rushing out the door, guns at the ready.

******************************

Alex slowly walked under the hot sun, towards the barracks, towards his new home. For that was what it was. What it would have to become. No matter how much he didn't want it, it was what was and he needed to learn to just accept it.

For once, it wasn't muddy and pouring. In fact, little clouds of dust followed the teen spy, his head held high and proud. Several of the soldiers, leaving their classes and heading to lunch, stared and whispered amongst themselves, curious as to why there was a teenager in their midst.

Alex ignored them, walking with a lethal grace, the silence of a spy surrounding his form. But although he could ignore their pointed looks, he couldn't block out their voices.

"What's he doing here?"

"He can't be much older than sixteen."

"Is he lost?"

"Are visitors even allowed?"

"Hey, kid!"

Alex's hand tightened imperceptibly on his bag, although he kept up his relaxed stance. He kept walking.

"Kid. I'm talking to you!" Someone reached out and grabbed his elbow. He twisted around, dropping the bag, and slamming his elbow into the man's arm, breaking the hold, before sweeping the man's legs out from under him. It happened in less than five seconds, and before he knew it, the man was on the ground, breathing heavily, staring at Alex with barely disguised shock. Alex felt no remorse. The man should have known better than to surprise Alex. Surely, they'd heard the rumor about MI6 top agent. He'd made sure of that. Maybe they were new? Or maybe they didn't know that it was him? Either way, they at least should know not to surprise people, especially ones who want to be left alone (and it's painfully obvious).