Sigh. It's been fun. But here we are, at the end. Again. But this time, it's for reals. So I'll say good-bye. When the chapter's done. I promise. And I want to try to get 40 reviews for this story though, okay? So that means…2 more reviews. Not that hard. Thanks to everyone who stuck through this with me! Thanks to all the alerters, reviewers, and favorite authors. You guys rock my world.

And who could forget the special thanks to my beta, Emmy-loo? She rocks.

Disclaimer: I own only what you don't recognize. Damnit.

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Mrs. Gritowsky, 54, with graying hair, was whistling a cheery tune as she walked down the street. In fact, Mrs. Gritowsky was none of the above.

In fact, Mrs. Gritowsky was a 22 year old man with brown hair who had no clue how to whistle. She was playing a cassette tape and pursing her lips.

More importantly, Mrs. Gritowsky had been trying to kill Alex Rider for two and a half years now. And, finally, she had succeeded.

A phone rang in her…erm, his sweater pocket. Answering in his real, gruff voice, he asked, annoyed, "What?"

A teasing voice came on. "Come on Kev. You know I'm asking you if he inadvertently thwarted your plans again. And don't act annoyed, I can hear that smile.

Still smiling, 'Kev' sighed. "I better have killed him. It was a fool proof plan. And how can you hear a smile?"

The teasing voice became serious. "You didn't blow him up, did you? Cuz he's gotten out of that 'little situation' before. And you can hear a smile when someone's pretending to be annoyed and failing miserably."

Kev's smile grew wider. "I put some sodium azide on his ice cream spoon. Before you ask, the ice cream spoon was white. And I was not failing miserably! I was doing an excellent job."

Sodium azide is colorless, odorless, white powder poison. It can cause immediate death if put in contact with moisture. Moisture included saliva. Especially his saliva.

The voice on the other line laughed. "Why would the great Alex Rider be out getting ice cream? And that was the worst annoyed act you've ever pulled. Trust me, you've pulled some pretty bad ones. I'm still wondering how you keep your cover."

"I dunno. He had a girl with him. Maybe he knocked her up and she had a craving?" Kev snickered. "And you just happen to be speaking with the best field agent there is. Me, the master of disguise."

"Haha, very funny. I'll be scouting the papers for a recent death of a certain Alex Rider. Anyway, I've gotta go. Dinner. Time difference really screws things up. And do you realize who your talking to? You are talking to the master. I am the best. Why? I have a better memory than you. And I can make my smiles deaf to other people's ears. So HA! Talk to ya tomorrow."

Kev said his good-bye a little too late. The line had already gone dead.

Kev smiled wider and started humming the tune to "Tiptoe Through the Tulips." He'd had to listen to old music to stay in character.

Maybe, now that the Rider guy was finally finished, he'd get a break. Be himself for a week.

Kev was about to step over a crack in the sidewalk when a figure zoomed by. Taking on his old woman persona again, Kev called out, "Excuse me! Do you want to break my back?"

The figure turned around and stopped. "Mrs. Gritowsky?" the figure asked softly. Kev only stared.

"Alex Rider," he muttered viciously. Then he spat out every curse word he knew, which happened to be a lot. Quietly, of course.

Unknown to Kev, Alex had extraordinary hearing. He found this situation slightly ironic. Here was the woman who had yelled at him for saying crap in public, saying curse words even Alex didn't know! Then it made sense.

"Mrs. Gritowsky, what's your first name?" he asked cautiously.

"Delilah," Kev answered curtly. And silently cursed himself. When he had first introduced himself, Kev had said, "I'm Delia Gritowsky. You will call me Mrs. Gritowsky and absolutely nothing else." He just hoped that Alex wouldn't notice.

He did.

Kev slowly got up, his eyes never leaving Alex. Slowly, he took a gun out of the pocket the cell phone hadn't been in. Before the trigger was out, Alex bolted in the direction of Liverpool Street.

Kev knew that, in his attire, he wouldn't ever be able to catch up with Alex.

He had failed.

Worst of all, he had been beaten. Oh, yes, there was a difference between failing and being beaten. When you fail, you make a mistake. There is no competition, no one to win or lose. When you're beaten, you lose. There is someone to lose to, and you've lost. In the deadly world Kev lived in, failure was punished. But being beaten was punishable by death, and nothing else.

Sighing, he brought the gun to his head. He would rather kill himself than be killed by his superiors; the ones who had been obsessed with killing Alex Rider to get themselves back on the market. Scorpia.

Kev had one last fleeting thought before he died, one that made him pull the trigger smiling.

That guy really isn't normal.

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I promised. So, I guess this is goodbye. Don't ever forget what reviews do. Ding-nessheaven. Thanks, faithful readers, for stickin wit me til da end. So, goodbye.