Title: Too Close to Home (Chapter 1 - Prologue)

Author: Anne Phoenix

Rating: R for violence. There are no sexual situations in this fic.

Disclaimer: The characters represented in this story do not belong to me. This story is written for entertainment and non-profit purposes only.

Too Close to Home --- Prologue

It was a typical London day. The sun peeked shyly out from between dark clouds, only slightly brightening up the otherwise grey surroundings. The schoolyard was silent and deserted, rain dripping from empty swings and running down the slide in little sparkling torrents. Inside the building, corridors and stairwells were just as empty; human presence was evidenced only by the tracks of muddy footprints that the porter would have to scrub up later.

In the silence, only one sound could be heard, and that was the steady drone of a monotonous voice coming from behind a blue door. It was a familiar voice, reminiscent of any school at ten o' clock on a Monday morning. Brookland – a Chelsea-based Primary and Secondary school – was just a morning school on a normal day.

Morning assembly was long over and teachers, students and support staff alike had disappeared behind brightly coloured doors for the day. Rows of children sat in the classroom behind the blue door, either paying attention to the teacher ahead or daydreaming. One child in particular found himself daydreaming even though he was actually doing his best pay attention.

Alex Rider had already missed too many weeks of school, and he was worried that he would never be able to catch up on his lessons. He was one of those rare children who actually wanted to pay attention and learn something, to do something with his life. But Alex found his mind wandering as the droning voice of Mr Donovan washed over him. Trigonometry, Alex decided, was probably not going to play a significant part in his life.

If he had any say about it.

Unfortunately, Alex rarely had much say about anything that happened in his life.

He rolled his head around on his shoulders. He'd been back at school for three weeks now and his wounds sustained at Flamingo Bay had only just finished healing. He found it hard to concentrate and the minutes felt like hours – every time he closed his eyes, he could see the large bloody hole Alexei Sarov had blown into his own chest; he could feel the hot splatter of blood hit his face and drip into his eyes, clouding his vision in a red haze. He'd been having nightmares about it for weeks. Sarov's face would turn into Yassen Gregorovich's, twisted in pain and pleading with Alex to help him; to save him. Sometimes, Alex saw Paul in his nightmares. Paul, falling back after his father shot him; falling back and never getting up …

With a start, Alex realised that Mr Donovan was addressing him. He glanced up at the blackboard, and then shook his head to indicate that he hadn't been listening. Mr Donovan sighed.

"Alex, you really need to get a grip on this material if you want to catch up with this class!"

A few boys sniggered. Everyone knew that there was something strange about Alex. He was away from school for weeks at a time and seemed to become more aloof with each absence – many people assumed that he was in trouble with the police. Only his best friend, Tom Harris, knew the truth about Alex, but even he wasn't truly able to appreciate it. He assumed Alex's life was exciting and glitzy, like some kind of junior James Bond

Alex nodded in resignation. He knew his teacher was right, and he really didn't want to be held back a year, because then he would lose the few friends he had. But he only managed to listen to the lesson for a few minutes, before that feeling of listlessness took over again.

Sighing, Alex turned back to the window. The last of the raindrops were rolling down the glass, leaving scaly stains in their wake. Beyond them and the glass, the murky schoolyard still stood empty.

A black car on the street attracted Alex's attention.

It was a Jaguar – not the kind of car that would usually be found standing on the double yellow outside Brookland school. He felt instantly uneasy about the car and the background drone of the classroom faded away as all his senses focused on it. Could it be another drug dealer? It seemed a bit early in the day for drugs, and the car seemed a bit too flashy.

In his heart of hearts, Alex thought he knew to whom the car belonged.

MI6.

It had to be. They'd come for him. Again. His jaw set angrily. Well, he wasn't going. Not this time. He'd had enough of being sent to his death.

Just as he was about to turn back to the class, a black Humvie cruised down the street. It paused by the Jaguar, momentarily obscuring it from view, before moving on. Several minutes later, it appeared again. By the third time, Alex had no doubt that the Humvie was circling his school. And that meant it was circling him.

But why?

His fingers clenched on the mobile phone MI6 had given him. They'd said he should use it in case of emergency … but this wasn't an emergency, was it? It was probably them, MI6, trying to intimidate him. Or maybe trying to test him, to see how alert he was?

"Alex?"

Mr Donovan sounded sharper now, angry that Alex was still ignoring his class.

"I'm trying, Sir," Alex answered, "But I don't feel well. Can I go see the nurse?"

Mr Donovan sighed deeply. He did not know what to make of this student. Alex used to have such excellent results in class, but since the death of his uncle, he had changed almost beyond recognition. Still, Mr Donovan supposed it had to be hard for a child to lose his entire family before the age of fourteen. One had to make exceptions for that. He nodded. "Go on, Alex. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ignoring the derisive glares of his classmates, Alex packed up his schoolbag and made his way out of the classroom. But he had no intention of going to see the nurse. Moving stealthily, Alex made his way down to the main doors of the school. He paused, watching through the glass as the Humvie wound its way around once again. The Jaguar still stood on the double yellow lines, looking eerily out of place on the dirty, grey street. Right, that was it, he was going to march right up to the car and tell MI6 what he thought of them!

He was just about to exit the school when his sharp eyes caught a glint from the top of the building across the street. He quickly stepped back, his heart leaping to his throat. It shouldn't be possible, but … Alex peered upwards through the glass door and exhaled shakily. It was a sniper.

Ok. This was definitely not MI6. Now that he knew what he was looking for, Alex could suddenly spot several snipers, all of them aiming towards Brookland school. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest – he had to alert MI6!

He pulled out his mobile phone, but was horrified to find that it showed no signal. He tried dialling the number anyway, but was met with nothing but a series of beeps and a voice telling him he was out of range. How was it possible? Someone had to be blocking the mobile coverage over the school … and that was very bad news.

Knowing that he had to get to a landline, Alex turned and sprinted back up the muddy stairs toward the headmaster's office. He froze at the top of the stairs, before ducking behind a door: a group of men with guns had just entered the corridor from the other side, evidently heading for the administrative offices.

Pressing himself against the wall, Alex caught his breath. He was trapped. And the school was under siege …

To be continued ...