Dear Alex,

If you're reading this, then I'm dead. If that is the case, then there is a lot that you need to know and a lot of that will probably change your world.

First and foremost, I am a spy, not a banker. All of the trips that I had to take for business were missions. Because of my work, I have missed a lot of important moments in your life and, for that, I am truly sorry.

Secondly, MI6, my actual employer, will likely be after you to work for them. Alan Blunt, my boss, is an utter bastard, and he will likely try to get you to finish whatever I started. He will try to threaten you, maybe threaten Jack, or anyone else that you are close to. If that should happen, then you and Jack need to run as fast as you possibly can. Enclosed with this letter are some names, addresses, and phone numbers of people that will try to help you should you need it.

Third, your father was a spy. He ticked off several very powerful terrorist organizations and they assassinated him for it. He and your mother did die in a plane crash, but the crash was caused by a bomb on board the plane, not by a technical error. You deserve to know that.

Finally, you need to know that all of your life, I have been training you. Not to be a spy, not to follow in my footsteps, but so that you can run if you ever have to. I, like your father, have ticked off some pretty bad people, so the time might come when we have to run. You speak four languages, so you will be able to assimilate into many different cultures. You take karate because I believe that it may one day be important for you to know how to defend yourself. You can mountain climb and scuba dive because we might have to do that one day. I know that I am being paranoid, but I want you to be prepared so that you will be safe.

Even though I am not a religious man, I pray that you never have to read this. I hope that you can go through your whole life and never know what I do for a living. If you are reading this, then I'm dead and you have every right to know about everything in this letter. I'm know that you are a boy with an insatiable curiosity, so, hopefully, this will save you some trouble.

You have a good heart, Alex. You want to protect people and do the right thing. Your father would be very proud of the man that you're growing up to be and I want you to know that I am proud of you, too, Alex Rider. If I had my own son, I wish he would be like you. However, that would be a bit redundant because, to my way of thinking, you are my son.

I love you, Alex.

-Ian Rider
Special Agent
MI6 (Military Intelligence: Special Operations)

Ian Rider put the letter in an envelope, sealed it, and carefully wrote Alex's name on the front. Alex was twelve years old now and he would soon be looking for answers to questions that Ian would prefer to never be asked. He knew that he would have to answer them in time, but that fact of life didn't stop him from hoping that that time would never come.

A banging on the door of his office interrupted his thoughts. "Ian, my football game starts in fifteen minutes. We need to go," Alex called through the door."

"Coming, Alex." Ian put the letter in the top right drawer of his desk and closed it before grabbing his nine millimeter pistol and putting it in the holster in the small of his back and throwing his corduroy blazer over top of his white button down shirt. It never hurt to be too careful. Especially not where his nephew was concerned.

Alan Blunt had received the contents of Ian Rider's office that morning and had insisted upon going through them personally in the evidence locker. In the top drawer, he found a letter addressed to one Alex Rider. Alex Rider. That gave Blunt an idea. Returning to his office with the letter, he decided to make use of a loophole in Ian Rider's will, a loophole that could make the Royal and General the official guardian of Alex Rider. A fourteen year old boy could be useful and easily manipulated. He picked up the phone in his office and dialed his constituent. "Mrs. Jones, get me the status on Jack Starbright's visa." As he spoke, the letter went into the top right drawer of his desk where it would stay for a while.

While cleaning out Alan Blunt's office after her promotion, Mrs. Tulip Jones found something in the top right drawer of Blunt's desk: a letter addressed to Alex Rider and the handwriting was his uncle's. Turning on her computer, Mrs. Jones quickly accessed the Pleasure's address and filled that in on the envelope. Adding a note of her own and appropriate postage for international mailing, Mrs. Jones placed it down the mail chute. It was high time that the boy received his mail.

A week after moving in with Sabina and her family, Alex checked the mail and found a letter addressed to him. It was his uncle's handwriting for his name, but the writing was a little different for the address. The letter smelled faintly of peppermint. Curious, he opened it.

The first thing that he found was a sticky note.

I thought it's high time you received this. Good luck, Alex Rider.
-Mrs. Jones
Director of Special Operations
MI6

The next was a carefully handwritten letter in his uncle's handwriting.

Fifteen minutes later, when Sabina came looking for him, he was sitting on the doorstep, letter in hand and tears leaking from his eyes despite his best efforts to stop them.

A/N. I couldn't help but wonder if Ian Rider was ever going to tell Alex about his job and his family's past. So, I assumed that he might have written a letter. If Alan Blunt got a hold of Ian Rider's stuff (from his office) before Alex and Jack could go through it, then he might have found the letter himself. Therefore, you have a case of delayed delivery. But, anyway, not a lot is known about Ian Rider, so I took a little bit of liberty with the way he would talk, especially if he is writing a letter to Alex to be read after his death. So, just a little bit of musing.

If this story made your day or made you happy or sad, please R&R to make my day.

-hey