Kill Me/Kiss Me- An Alex Rider Fanfic

Weakness

For the first time in years, Alex and Hera were on the same page. Staring at each other as though they just realised who the other was, the pair of teenagers averted their eyes quickly for fear of giving too much away. Alex clenched his fist beneath the table, things were getting out of control too quickly; he had to think of a way to get out of here. Hera's earrings jingled and shimmered in the candlelight as she turned her head towards her boss, awaiting an explanation. The pair knew they could not work together. There was too much lost in the space between them.

Daniel leant back in his chair as though surveying a chess board; waiting to take his next move. He glanced at Rider who sat as though to attention, straight backed, lips pursed, not wanting to give anything away. His steel eyes narrowed on the billionaire with a hard, determined look. Goodchild almost laughed; Alex was so different to Hera. She glared at Daniel with barely suppressed infuriation; Hera was not the kind of person to sit back and let things play out. She always needed to be in control or, at least, in the loop. She was itching to say something, dying to put a knife to Daniel's throat and torture the information out of him. But Daniel could also see, from the way she bit her lip and clasped her hands in her lap, as though trying to stop herself from saying anything or lashing out, that she was trying to maintain her cool in front of Rider.

"In a month's time there is to be a meeting in London," as Goodchild began, Alex was already weighing up his options. London. Home. It was a chance to escape. But Goodchild had a hold on Sabina's future, as far as Alex knew, so he had to be cautious, bide his time. "Beneath one of the city's oldest hotels, linked to an underground bunker system, a meeting of at least fifty influential and devious masterminds is to take place." Goodchild took a sip of his cognac with great relish and watched as Hera placed her hand delicately on top of her wine glass so the sommelier, who had taken a step forward, could not poor her drink. The waiter took a step back into the corner of the room as Daniel shot Hera a quick look of sympathy; she often drank red wine at the dinner table. It was rich in colour and taste, as was she. It saddened Daniel to think he had upset her so much. "The meeting is an," he searched for the right word, "auction of sorts."

"An auction for what?" For the briefest of moments, Hera glanced up at Alex as he spoke. The blonde was determined not to look at her however, and kept his eyes steadily fixed on Goodchild.

"Novavirus." As Daniel spoke, Alex couldn't help himself, he stole a look up at Hera in shock. He recognised that word, the pair of them had dealt with the virus before. Three years ago. In Venice.

Hera swallowed hard as her gaze misted over. Slowly, she removed her hand from her wine glass, an indication that she was ready for a drink. The sommelier took a step forwards and poured Hera's wine. "Nova is dead." Hera said coldly. "We saw to that."

"You saw that it never made it to production." Daniel corrected her. "There is interest rekindling in its efficacy as a bio-weapon. Naturally, I want it." Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel watched Hera take a sip of her wine; her sweet lips parted softly as the delicious liquid ran along them. "But, I don't want to have to pay for it. Call me-"

"Cheap?" Alex suggested. Daniel responded with a small smirk.

"I suppose. I want you both to attend the meeting and represent me. You" he gestured to Alex, "will go in as my employee. Hera will be your guest." Hera and Alex shared the briefest of glances; a couple would be less suspicious than male and female co-workers travelling together. And it was easy to guess the types that would attend the event; in the middle of the busiest city in the world, a swanky hotel and an auction, it would be the rich and political elite attending. An entirely different class of criminal. The men would show up with models half their age draped on their arms. A young couple would be less suspicious; there half on business, half on each other. There was no point fighting it. "The two of you will discover where the virus is being kept and how to get to it. Then you will steal it." His last words were met with an agonising silence.