And yet the man was ordinary to look at.

Gray suit, gray hair, gray lips, and gray eyes. His face was expressionless, the eyes behind the square, gunmetal spect empty. Perhaps that was what had disturbed Alex. Whoever this
man was, he seemed to have less life than anyone in the cemetery. Above or below ground. So Alex on the shoulder and he turned around to see Mr. Crawley leaning over him. "That's Mr. Blunt," the personnel manager
whispered. "He's the chairman of the eyes traveled past Blunt and over to the Rolls-Royce. Two more men had come with him, one of them driving. They were wearing identical suits and, although it particularly bright day,
sunglasses. Both of them were watching the funeral with the same grim faces. Alex looked from them to Blunt and then to the other peo to the cemetery. Had they really known Ian Rider? Why had he never met any of them
before? And why did he find it so difficult to believe that they really work "... a good man, a patriotic man. He will be missed." The vicar had finished his graveside address. His choice of words struck Alex as odd. Patriotic? That
meant country. But as far as Alex knew, Ian Rider had barely spent any time in it. Certainly he had never been one for waving the Union Jack. He looked around, hopin saw instead that Blunt was making his way toward him,
stepping carefully around the grave. "You must be Alex." The chairman was only a little taller than him. Up close, his skin was strangely unreal. It could have been made of plastic. "My name is Alan "Your uncle often spoke
about you." "That's funny," Alex said. "He never mentioned you." The gray lips twitched briefly. "We'll miss him. He was a good man." "What was he good at?" Alex asked. "He never talked about his work." Suddenly Crawley
was there. "Your uncle was overseas finance manager, Alex," he said. responsible for our foreign branches. You must have known that."

"I know he traveled a lot," Alex said. "And I know he was very careful. About things like seat belts." "Well, sadly, he wasn't careful enough." Blunt's eyes, magnified by the thick lenses of his spectacles, lasered into his own, and
for a moment, Alex felt himself pi an insect under a microscope. "I hope we'll meet again," Blunt went on. He tapped the side of his face with a single gray finger. "Yes ..." Then he turned and we That was when it happened. As
Blunt was getting into the Rolls-Royce, the driver leaned down to open the back door and his jacket fell open, revealing a stark underneath. There was a black shape lying against it and that was what caught Alex's eye. The
man was wearing a leather holster with an automatic pistol strap Realizing what had happened, the driver quickly straightened up and pulled the jacket across. Blunt had seen it too. He turned back and looked again at Alex. S
close to an emotion slithered over his face. Then he got into the car, the door closed, and he was gone.

A gun at a funeral, Alex thought. Why? Why should bank managers carry guns?

"Let's get out of here." Suddenly Jack was at his side. "Cemeteries give me the creeps."

"Yes. And quite a few creeps have turned up," Alex muttered. They slipped away quietly and went home. The car that had taken them to the funeral was still wa preferred the open air. The walk took them fifteen minutes and
as they turned the corner onto their street, Alex noticed a moving van parked in front of the hou STRYKER & SON painted on its side.

"What's that doing ...?" he began.

At the same moment, the van shot off, the wheels skidding over the surface of the road.

Alex said nothing as Jack unlocked the door and let them in, but while she went into the kitchen to make some tea, he quickly looked around the house. A letter the hall table now lay on the carpet. A door that had been half
open was now closed. Tiny details, but Alex's eyes missed nothing. Somebody had been in the ho almost sure of it. But he wasn't certain until he got to the top floor. The door to the office, which had always, always been
locked, was now unlocked. Alex open The room was empty. Ian Rider had gone and so had everything else. The desk drawers, the closets, the shelves ... anything connected to the dead man's work "Alex...." Jack was calling
from downstairs.

Alex took one last look around the forbidden room, wondering again about the man who had once worked there. Then he closed the door and went back down." "That's the end of the chapter." Alex said.

"There it is," finished Miss Bedfordshire with sigh. "Who will be next?" "May I?" volunteered Edward, and the book was passed to him."I'm hoping for a slightly happier chapter this time," remarked Sabina. Chapter Two:
Heaven for Cars

Alex tilted his head, wondering what the chapter will be about. Then he allowed himself to grimace as he realized, that no, the chapter would not be more pleas

With Hammersmith Bridge just ahead of him, Alex left the river and swung his bike through the lights and down the hill towards Brooklands Sch was a Condor Junior Roadracer, custom built for him on his
twelfth birthday. It was a teenager's bike, with a cut down Reynold's 531 frame, but were full size so he could ride at speed with hardly any rolling resistance. "Whoever designed that bike and custom made it

1
certainly did a good job, my boy," commented Smithers. After all, experimenting and assembling mechanics w talents. He spun past a delivery van and passed through the school gates. He would be very sorry when he
grew out of the bike. For two years now, it h part of him. "Aww, you're in love with your bike," Sabina whispered, teasing him. "Would you feel anguished when you break up with it?"Jack snorted while Alex's lips twitched,
"You're acting like it's a person. I'll have you know it's a rather good one. I can get another custom made bike as good as He double locked it into the shed and went into the school yard. Brookland was a modern
school, all redbrick and, to Alex's eye rather ugly. "Busted," sang Snake with a smirk, as Alex grinned in a sheepish manner as he glanced, rather embarrassed towards his school teachers. Mr. Gray raised an eyebrow
while Miss Bedfordshire didn't know whether to be amused or offended. However, the Headmaster grinned, "It's alright to have your about your school, so long you don't try anything against it." Technically, Alex's only problem
with the school were his attendances, but he didn't mention that, k should find out soon enough.

He could have gone into any of the exclusive private schools around Chelsea, but Ian Rider had decided to send him here. He had said it would b challenge. "How was it going to be more of a challenge?" wondered
the secretary, but she got no answer.

The first period of the day was algebra. When Alex came into the classroom, the teacher, Mr. Donovan, was already chalking up a complicated e board. Mr. Donovan looked at the book and grinned at the mention of
himself. Although he supposed, it was nowhere weird for him as it for Alex. "These equations are complicated, no matter how they look it. There the simplest equations in algebra."

"You should know," said Alex smiled cheekily. "You're the Maths teacher, you studied the more complicated ones." It was hot in the room, the sun streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, put in by architects
who should have known better. As Alex t near the back, he wondered how he was going to get through the lesson. How could he possible think about algebra when there were so many churning through his
mind?

The gun at the funeral. The way Blunt had looked at him. The van with STRYKER & SON written on the side. The empty office. And the biggest m one detail that refused to go away. The seat belt. Ian Rider
hadn't been wearing a seat belt. Although Wolf had his difficulties with Cub, he felt some sympathy for the teenager. A relative dying, especially an only relative, was bad enough; but the circum Rider's death in the last
chapter were more mystifying than an ordinary death. It was obvious it had bothered Cub deeply.

But of course he had. "You are persistent about that," said Troy boldly. "Pardon?" asked Alex, confused.

"Most people would have disregarded the seatbelt," she continued. "Surely, something as small and insignificant as a seatbelt would not be worthy of notice, yet most important detail. You are persistent about it." Not knowing
whether the CIA agent meant offence, Alex insisted, "He was a careful man, that alone made it odd . . ." he subsided into silence and glanced at Ed

Byrne whispered to Troy, "Just from that comment, it is clear he is highly observant. A valuable aspect in the field if you will." As he turned back to the back, Tro glaring sourly at her superior. She really did not want a kid in her
next assignment, but it was clear she had no choice.

Ian Rider had never been one to give lectures. He had always said Alex should make up his own mind about things.

"Hence the development of Rider stubbornness," muttered Jack, though no one had noticed her comment.

But he'd had this thing about seat belts. The more Alex thought about it, the less he believed it. A collision in the middle of the city. Suddenly, h could see the car. At least the wreckage would tell him that the
accident had really happened, that Ian Rider had really died that way.

I have a sudden feeling he searched for the car?" whispered Eagle to the rest of the unit."Perhaps it's because of the title," replied Fox. "He's a smart lad from it seems, but I'm hoping you are wrong about that, Eagle.""Alex?"
Alex looked up and realized everyone was staring at him.Jack winced, "That awkward moment when you wake from your thoughts and see everyone staring at you. I hate that!""Been there, done that," said Alex as the
Pleasures laughed.Mr. Donovan had just asked him something. He quickly scanned the blackboard, taking in the figures. "Yes, sir," he said. "X equals seven and Y The math teacher sighed. "Yes, Alex. You're
absolutely right. But actually I was just asking you to open the window. . ."

2
Mr. Donovan didn't really blame Alex for that. After the class, he had contemplated asking the boy to consider going home, it was clear he had been distracted b he decided against it. Even if Alex had not been paying
attention, it was better for him to be kept busy than staying at home, where he could have dwelt on the more.

Somehow he managed to get through the rest of the day, but by the time the final bell rang, his mind was made up. While everyone else stream his way to the secretary's office and borrowed a copy of the
Yellow Pages.

"You searched the junkyards to try to find your Uncle's car?" demanded Miss Bedfordshire, surprising everyone with her stern and slightly harsh tone. She had a that's why realizing the possible dangers of why he went to her
office that day surprised her. No matter how Alex disregarded the school rules through his absen want the boy to be in danger.

Alex winced while Jack responded, "Indeed. After that incident, I know for sure Alex will think things through next time." She remembered full well how she bec angry when Alex walked through the house looking a bloody
mess.

Several people's faces paled at the implications. "I'm almost afraid to ask," sighed Edward. "But I know I'll find out anyway."

"What are you looking for?" the secretary asked. Miss Bedfordshire had always had a soft spot for Alex.

Jack beamed.

Miss Bedfordshire blushed slightly as he saw the Headmaster glance at her, but he couldn't comment. No matter how teachers could deny it, they might have so students, just as they might dislike other students. It was not
how they felt towards them, but how treated the kids at the end of the day that mattered.

"Auto junkyards . . ." Alex flickered through the pages. "If a car got smashed up near Old Street, they'd take it somewhere near, wouldn't they? "I suppose so.""Here . . ." Alex had found the yards listed under
'Auto Wreckers.' But there were dozens of them fighting for attention over four pages."Is this for a school project?" the secretary asked. She knew Alex had lost a relative, but not how.

"Sort of. . ." Alex was reading the addresses, but they told him nothing. "Oh most definitely," laughed Smithers with a hint of sarcasm. He winked as Alex looked at him.

"This one's near Old Street." Miss Bedfordshire pointed at the corner of the page. "Wait!" Alex tugged the book towards him and looked at the entry underneath the one the secretary had chosen:

J.B. STRYKER.

"And bingo! You've found your lead," announced Carver immediately.

"Perhaps it's just a coincidence?" said Edward uneasily.

"There are no such things as coincidences," said Blunt emotionlessly. That was rule was especially true in the world of spies, and he hated coincidences.

AUTO WRECKERS

Heaven for Cars

CALL US TODAY

3
"That's in Vauxhall," Miss Bedfordshire said. "Not too far from here."

"I know." But Alex recognized the name. J. . He thought back to the van he had seen outside his house on the day of the funeral. Stryker & Son. might just be a coincidence, it was still somewhere to start. He
closed the book. "I'll see you, Miss Bedfordshire."

"Be careful." The secretary watched Alex leave, wondering why she had said that. Maybe it was his eyes dark and serious. There was something there.

Those people who knew Alex had to admit the truth in those words. There was a silent determination in there, strong as steel, but how strong was his persistenc face of danger?

"I never got to thank you for that, so thanks," said Alex sincerely and Miss Bedfordshire nodded her welcome as she looked worriedly at those eyes. She felt a b gut. If he accepted her thanks, it meant somehow her good luck
was warranted.

"You're making me worried," said Sabina as her right hand grasped his left again, as she bit her lip, frowning. However, Alex didn't reply, merely leaned ever so her.

Then the telephone rang and she forgot about him as she went back to work.

J.B. Strykers was a square of wasteland behind the railway tracks running out of Waterloo Station. The area was enclosed by a high brick wall t broken glass and razor wire.

Two wooden gates hung open, and from the other side of the road, Alex could see a shed with a security window and beyond it the tottering pil broken cars. Everything of any value had been stripped away and
only the rusting carcasses remained, heaped one on top of the other, waiting crusher.

There was a guard sitting on the shed, reading a newspaper. In the distance a bulldozer coughed into life, then roared down on a battered Ford claw smashing through the window to scoop up the vehicle and
carry it away. A telephone rang somewhere in the shed and the guard turned ar it. That was enough for Alex. Holding his bike and wheeling it along beside him, he sprinted through the gates.

Mr. Gray sighed, "I really hope you knew what you were doing. Get in the wrong way of those machines, and well..."

K-Unit and the CIA agents were paying rapt attention to the book. It may have just been an auto junkyard, but for a fourteen year old boy, especially one sneaki dangerous. As obvious as it was he came out alive (and
hopefully) unscratched, the junkyard had a role in this chapter, and they were very interested to see ho situation. For Byrne, it was like a preview of his skills in a less dangerous environment. This information was important for
their upcoming assignment in Cayo E

He found himself surrounded by dirt and debris. The smell of diesel was thick in the air and the roar of the engines was deafening.

"Such a pleasant place to be," grimaced Sabina in disgust. "It is a wasteland," pointed out Jack.

Alex watched as a crane swooped down on one of the cars, seized it in a metallic grip, and dropped it into a crusher. For a moment the car reste shelves. Then the shelves lifted up, toppling the car over and
down into a trough. The operator – sitting in a glass cabin at one end of the crush button and there was a great belch of black smoke. The shelves closed in on the car like a monster insect folding its wings.
There was a grindin car was crushed until it was no bigger than a rolled-up carpet. The operator threw a gear and the car was squeezed out, metallic toothpaste bei by a hidden blade. The slices tumbled into
the ground.

"That's very descriptive," muttered Liz. Sabina was worried. Although she knew Alex was fine, she agreed with her mother. The way the book described the junkyard very accurately and the machines She was half hoping
someone had discovered Alex, because even though it meant trouble for him, at least he would be out of harm's way with chances of gettin machinery.

4
Leaving his bike propped against the wall, Alex ran further into the yard, crouching down behind the wrecks. With the din from the machines, th chance that anyone would hear him, but he was still afraid of
being seen.

"Very good, be vigilant," grunted Wolf. "Don't encourage him," sighed Jack, but Wolf did not hear her.

He stopped to catch his breath, drawing a grimy hand across his face.

"Okay, no offence, but that's disgusting," exclaimed Sabina, drawing a couple snorts from the room's occupants.

"Wastelands, they're nowhere near the most sanitary workplaces to be," smiled Fox.

His eyes were watering from the diesel fumes. The air was as filthy as the ground beneath him.

"Could be hazardous too," worried Miss Bedfordshire, mentally pleading he would get out soon.

He was beginning to regret coming – but then he saw it.

"Ian's car," affirmed Smithers, knowing what was there and quick as a blink of an eye the atmosphere got tenser.

Alex had a pained expression in face, though he quickly masked it but not before the secretary caught a glimpse of it. He leaned even closer to Sabina and gripp tighter, signalling to her something was wrong. Not caring they
were in a room full of occupants, she put her head comfortably on her shoulders. "It's alright," s

His uncle's BMW was parked a few yards away, separated from the other cars. At first glance it looked absolutely fine, the metallic silver bodyw scratched. Certainly there was no way this car could have been
involved in fatal collision with a truck or with anything else. But it was definitely Alex recognized the license plate. He hurried closer and it was now that he saw the car was damaged after all. The windshield
had been smashe the windows on the driver's side. Alex made his way around to the other side, and froze.

Ian Rider hadn't died in any accident.

Edward inhaled sharply as he glanced the next few lines, a slightly scared expression taking over.

What had killed him was plain to see – even to someone who had never seen such a thing before. A spray of bullets had caught the car full on th shattering the front tire, smashing the windshield and side
windows, and punching into the side panels.

Miss Bedfordshire gasped. Her colleagues were looking at the book with similar states of shock. "My god, Mr. Rider," whispered Mr. Brey, referring to Alex, but no Murder. That was how Ian Rider had died. The cold reality
gripped him and left him shocked. He already knew it was not some random work done by a street lun planned, ordered by someone, he was sure of it.

"What?" Liz's face was very pale, not having expected this at all. Edward, holding the book in his left hand, swung an arm around her shoulders with his right ar steeled himself to read on.

Alex ran his fingers over the holes. The metal felt cold against his flesh. He opened the door and looked inside. The front seats, pale gray leathe with fragments of broken glass and stained with patches of dark
brown. He didn't need to ask what that stain was. He could see everything. Th machine gun, the bullets ripping into the car, Ian Rider jerking in the driver's seat . . .

5
The agents, from CIA and MI6, were looking at the book solemnly. They knew Ian's death had been covered up. Death was not a stranger to them due to their li required mental strength to move on from a fallen comrade, but it
didn't make it any easier to hear.

As for Alex, he was looking above everyone's heads, avoiding the others' eyes, but he wasn't really seeing because in his mind's eye he was replying that scene Jack, this was new. Alex told her how Ian died but the very
descriptive paragraph was different from Alex vague version. And to think, he had seen it with his o

But why? Why kill a bank manager? And why had the murder been covered up? It was the police who had delivered the news at night, so they Had they lied deliberately?

"Had they?" Alex softly asked Alan Blunt.Reluctantly he replied, "Some people knew the truth, but they were not one of them."

None of it made any sense."You should have gotten rid of it two days ago. Do it now . . .""Leave!" Mrs. Jones ordered Alex's past book self, showing a parts of her softness for Alex. She ignored Blunt's disapproving
glance at what he called a weaknes

The machines must have stopped for a moment. If there hadn't been a sudden lull, Alex wouldn't have heard the men coming. Quickly he looked steering wheel and out the other side. There were two of them,
both dressed in loose-fitting overalls. Alex had a feeling he'd seen them before. One of them was the driver, the man he had seen with the gun. He was sure of it.

"What is he doing there?" asked Troy, although she was really asking: What was the man's role in the MI6?

Whoever they were, they were only a few paces away from the car, talking in low voices. Another few steps and they would be there. Without t threw himself into the only hiding place available: inside the car
itself.

Sabina groaned.

"What?" asked Alex, puzzled.

"It may be the safest place at the moment, but it's not exactly safe, is it?" explained Mr. Donovan as Sabina gave her an incredulous look.

"I can't believe you just asked 'What?'"

Using his foot, he hooked the door and closed it. At the same time, he became aware that the machines had started again

Fox turned pale as he realized what was about to happen.

and he could no longer hear the men. He didn't dare look up. A shadow fell across the window as the two men passed. But then they were gone.

And then something hit the BMW with such force that Alex cried out,

Everyone reacted with surprise while gasps echoed, even Mrs. Jones let out a wince as her breath hitched. Predictably, only Blunt remained calm. "Fuck!" yelled leaned back in his seat, gripping the sides tightly.

"Mr. Donovan!" exclaimed Alex.

6
"Silence!" commanded the Math teacher, the tension getting to him. "Just read on, Edward," he gritted his teeth.

his whole body caught in a massive shock wave that tore him away from the steering wheel and threw him helplessly into the back. The roof bu huge metal fingers tore through the skin of the car like a fork
through an eggshell, trailing dust and sunlight. One of the fingers grazed the side any closer it would have cracked his skull.

Jack looked queasy at thought of a very sharp metallic finger piercing Alex's skull, and brain and coming out through the opposite end. She tried to breathe dee shuddering breaths being inhaled and exhaled.

"That was close," said a shaky Miss Bedfordshire.

Alex yelled as blood trickled over his eye. He tried to move, then was jerked back a second time as the car was yanked off the ground and tilted air.

Aside from Blunt, those who were remained calm were K-Unit. They had already witnessed Alex in action at the French Alps, and they knew he survived that inci so that comforted them. However, looks of worries could be
seen in the soldiers' faces.

He couldn't see. He couldn't move. But his stomach lurched as the car swung in an arc, the metal grinding and the light spinning. The BMW had by the crane. It was going to be put inside the crusher. With him
inside.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod," repeated Liz in a whispered mantra, gripping Edward's arm tightly as Sabina did the same to Alex, who was wincing at the pai

He tried to raise himself up, to wave through the windows. But the claw of the crane had already flattened the roof, pinning his left leg, perhaps it.

Troy closed her eyes, letting out a breath. Compared to the dangers she faced, this was nothing to her, but knowing there was boy there – the mental images ke was too close for comfort.

He could feel nothing.

Smithers nodded to himself, knowing it was adrenaline aiding Alex.

He lifted his hand and managed to pound on the back window, but he couldn't break the glass. Even if the workmen were staring at the BMW, th see anything moving inside.

His short flight across the junkyard ended with a bone-shattering crash as the crane deposited the car on the iron shelves of the crusher. Alex t his sickness and despair and think of what to do. Any moment
now the operator would send the car tipping into the coffin-shaped trough. The Lefort Shear, a slow motion guillotine. At the press of a button, the two wings would close on the car with a joint pressure of five
hundred tons. Alex inside it, would be crushed beyond recognition. The broken metal – and flesh – would then be chopped into sections. Nobody would ever k happened.

"I'd rather not have a description of how accurate the damn crusher is," exclaimed Miss Bedfordshire, her heart racing. Beside her, Mr. Gray touched her arm in calm her before dropping it. It worked, a bit.

"He made it out there alive. He is still alive," he whispered shakily. "That's all it matters."

He tried with all his strength to free himself. But the roof was too low. His leg was trapped. Then his whole world tilted and he felt himself fallin darkness. The shelves had lifted. The BMW slid to one side and
fell a few yards into the trough. Alex felt the metal work collapsing throughout h window exploded and glass showered around his head, dust and diesel fumes punching into his nose and eyes.

Sabina cringed, imagining it was her lying down, cramped into that tiny space that was rapidly decreasing. Then the glass breaks all over her with all the muck s dirtying her. How did Alex escape that? Sensing her distress,

7
Alex pulled his painful left arm from her tight grip and – not caring her parents were there – wrapp and allowing her another grip this time on his right hand.

Miss Bedfordshire and Jack saw the action and despite the tension, they had to allow themselves some peace.

There was hardly any daylight now, but looking out of the back, he could see the huge steel head of the piston that would push what was left of the exit hole on the other side. The engine of the Lefort Shear
changed as it prepared for the final act. The metal wings shuddered. In a few seconds' time the two of them wou crumpling the BMW like a paper bag. Alex pulled with all his strength and was astonished when
his leg came free. It took him perhaps a second – one precious second – to work out happened. When the car had fallen into the trough, it had landed on its side. The roof buckled again just enough to free him.
His hand scrabbled but, of course, that was useless. The doors were too bent.

"You'd just get crushed first thing if you exit through the doors," stated Carver, worriedly, ignoring the effect his words had on the others.

They would never open. The back window! With the glass gone, he could crawl through the frame, but only if he moved fast.

The wings began to move. The BMW screamed as two walls of solid steel relentlessly crushed it. More glass shattered. One of the wheel axles s sound of a thunderbolt. Darkness began to close in.

Alex grabbed hold of what was left of the backseat. Ahead of him he could see a single triangle of light, shrinking faster and faster. He could fee the two walls pressing down on him. The car was no longer a car
but the fist of some hideous monster snatching at the insect that Alex had bec

"Get out," ordered Wolf in a commanding and stressed tone, not caring he was talking to a book.

With all his strength, he surged forward. His shoulders passed through the triangle, out into the light. Next came his legs, but at the last mome caught on a piece of jagged metal. He jerked and the shoe was
pulled off, falling back into the car. Alex heard the sound of the leather being sq clinging to the black, oily surface of the observation platform at the back of the crusher, he dragged himself clear and managed
to stand up.

Relieved sighs sounded across the room.

He found himself face to face with a man so fat that he could barely fit into the small cabin of the crusher. The man's stomach was pressed agai shoulders squeezed into the corners. A cigarette dangled on his
lower lip as his mouth fell open and his eyes stared. What he saw was a boy in t had once been a school uniform. A whole sleeve had been torn off and his arm, streaked with blood and oil, hung limply by his
side. By the time taken this all in, come to his senses, and the turned the machine off, the boy was gone.

Alex clambered down into the side of the crusher, landing on the one foot that still had a shoe. He was aware now of the pieces of jagged metal everywhere. If he wasn't careful, he would cut open the other foot.
His bicycle was where he had left it, leaning against the wall, and gingerly, made for it. Behind him, he heard the cabin of the crusher open and a man's voice called out, raising the alarm. At the same time, a
second man stopping between Alex and his bike. It was the driver, the man he had seen at the funeral. His face, twisted into a hostile frown, was curiously watery eyes, pale, lifeless skin.

"What do you think . . ." he began. His hand slid into his jacket. Alex remembered the gun and instantly, without even thinking, swung into actio "That's some instinct and quick thinking you got there, Cub,"
acknowledged Snake faintly."You don't think he has a gun?" said Mr. Brey, alarmed."He was the driver, he had a gun then, and might have now," said Carver, causing Jack to pale. "It's best not to leave anything to chance."

He had started learning karate when he was six years old.

Blunt's eyes was pleased that fact. He had already known, of course, but it was just refreshing for him to hear the skill his spy had. A skill that was very helpful, dangerous situations like this.

8
One afternoon, with no explanation, Ian Rider had taken him to a local club for his first lesson and he had been going there, once a week, ever s

Jack sighed tiredly. It was good, because karate thought many lessons: self-defence, determination, hard work and etc. But she had to wonder if, among many t done this to secretly train Alex for the life of a spy. She
wondered if she should wished he hadn't done this. Alex might not have had a lot of skills, but this way been kept away from Blunt and these situations longer.

Over the years he had passed through the various Kyu – student grades. But it was only the year before he had become a first-grade Dan, a blac

Mr. Donovan gave a grin, "Impressive feat."

When he had arrived at Brookland School, his gentle looks and accent had quickly brought him to the attention of the school bullies; three hulki olds. They had cornered him once behind the bike shed. The
encounter lasted less than a minute. The next day one of the bullies left Brookland, two never troubled anyone again.

Normally the teachers would have said something, but considering the situation, the dropped the matter.

Now Alex brought up, one leg, twisted his body around, and lashed out. The back kick – Ushiro-geri – is said to be the most lethal in karate. His into the man's abdomen with such force that the man didn't have
time to cry out. His eyes bulged and his mouth was half open in surprise. Then still halfway in his jacket, he crumpled into the ground.

Alex jumped over him, snatched up his bike, and swung himself onto it. In the distance a third man was running toward him. He heard the singl There was a crack and the bullet whipped past.

"A BULLET?" yelled Liz as Alex winced. "DID YOU JUST SAY A BULLET WHIPPED PAST?" "He attempted to shoot you," gasped Sabina.Jack was white and shaking, and Alex knew it wouldn't be long before she exploded.
"My god," said Edward. "Who were you dealing with?"

"I don't understand," Mr. Gray's steady voice got attention. "A few days ago, the driver attends Ian Rider's funeral, and now he shoots the nephew. What was go wonder if it was the driver behind it all, and to some extent –
Blunt. Casting a wary glance at Blunt, he dared not voice his thoughts.

"Just finish the chapter," ordered Jack angrily, not caring if she offended Edward. Luckily for her, he understood her distress and quickly finished.

Alex gripped the handlebars and pedalled as hard as he could. The bike shot forward, over the rubble and through the gates. He took one look o Nobody had followed him. With one shoe on and one shoe off,
his clothes in rags, and his body streaked with oil, Alex knew he must look a strange sight. But he thought b seconds inside the crusher and sighed with relief. He could be looking a lot worse.

"There we go," Edward tossed the book back on the table, glad to get rid of it. There was several seconds of silence as people regained their calm. "You never told me this, Alex," said Jack. Mr. Brey had to wonder how she
could be so calm, especially if Alex never told her."Yes I did," he protested softly. "I told you what had happened right after I came home looking like a mess."

"Yes, the watered down version that was nowhere near what really happened," snapped Jack. She knew she wasn't supposed to be angry. The incident happene nowhere dangerous as his real missions were. But she was
afraid to hear the missions, because if Alex watered this down, then chances were his past two missi been toned down too. "And damn you, Blunt!" she yelled, aware everyone was watching her. "You have a lot to answer for!"

What actually, really angered her was the fact that Blunt was involved. If Alex was in danger in his missions, it was understandable because he was against ene These people were Blunt's men, and they fired a bullet at Alex.
In her eyes, Blunt had to be connected in some way, especially as their boss. In world of spy bus least Jack wanted was that Alex was safe with Blunt's men, no matter how manipulative he was. Even though they might not
have known it was Alex Rider, sure boy would be enough to stop them?

Fortunately, Mrs. Jones intervened, "We should have a break, ladies and gentlemen. Outside in the hallway, the door across, is a coffee room. Feel free to have s refreshments. The rest of the rooms in this floor are also

9
meeting rooms similar to this. You may occupy them if you wish, especially if you prefer some privacy. ask that you do not approach the elevators or the stairs and wander past this floor. There are guards stationed everyone
so please, do not even try."

Without wasting time, the people immediately stood and left. They were grateful for the chance of the break and refreshments, glad to have some privacy, and thoughts. Alex had to wonder if it had been a good idea for this to
happen. They already were distressed from this chapter, what more when the real danger ca

He supposed this was necessary. He wanted to hear what his future missions were like, but the books would not be read if one person in the list was missing, as Smithers stated. Alex knew that everyone in the room would
have interesting conversations within the next few minutes.

Smithers knew that Jack intended to give Blunt an earful, the murderous look in her eyes was enough to tell him that. To comfort the distressed guardian, he pu shoulder and gently steered her away from the MI6 heads.
"Come on, Miss Starbright. I'd like to have a word with you."

10