Alex and Tom rode their bikes through the rainy London streets. Alex smiled as he watched Tom jump off the curb. He was happy, for the first time in months. His "spy life," as Jack called it, was put on hold for the time being.

Tom turned left, and Alex followed. They found themselves on a quiet side street full of little tourist shops and cafés. Tom jerked his head toward one, and they went in.

The café was warm and cozy, with a fireplace in one wall. The tables were made of a polished mahogany, and the chairs were rather elegant, with silk cushions. Tom and Alex shook off the rain from their jackets and sat down at a table, ordering two fresh squeezed orange juices and some scones.

There were only five other customers in the café: a boy of about thirteen with black hair; his companion, a giant Eurasian man; a small, nervous-looking man also sat with them. He kept wringing his hands and looking towards the door, obviously impatient to leave. At a table on the other end of the room, two punky teens sat, looking apathetic.

Their orders came and the two boys began scarfing down scones. As he ate, the hairs on the back of Alex's neck stood up. It was the same feeling that he had had when he was at Point Blanc--the feeling that someone was watching him. Shaking off the feeling, he took a sip of his juice, and then leaned close to Tom.

"Look around," he said. "Is there anyone looking over here?"

Tom blinked, and did as he was told. "Yes," he said. "That big bloke over there. Keeps staring over here. At you."

Alex immediately tensed up. He had learned that when a person is staring, injuries followed.

"Alex, do you want to leave?" Tom asked nervously. Confusion and concern covered his thin face, "We can go, if you want, but that giant man is beginning to creep me out."

Alex nodded. Pulling some money out of his pocket, he left a few bills on the table. Then, he and Tom stood up and headed back out into the rain.

Alex had just gotten on his bike when the door to the café opened. It was the Eurasian. He motioned for Alex to stop. As he did, Alex saw the glint of a pistol inside the man's jacket. Alex knew better than to risk running, so he planted both feet on the ground and looked at the man square in the face.

The large man walked over to Alex. Grasping his chin, the man forced Alex to look at him. Alex fought back tears of pain. The man's grip was very firm. He took in Alex's face, memorizing every feature. Finally, he gazed into Alex's eyes; this unnerved Alex greatly.

Who was this man? What was he doing holding his face like that?

"Rider."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Shocked, Alex nodded. The man released him, smiled slightly, and then walked back into the café.

"That was odd," Tom said. He had watched the entire scene in silence. "Maybe we should report him--"

At that moment, something small and circular landed between the two youths. Tom shrugged and bent down to pick it up. The boys examined it for less than ten seconds before Alex slapped it out of Tom's hands. It bounced on the slippery sidewalk and landed barely a yard and a half from the door of the café. A red indicator light began flashing quickly.

Alex jumped off of his bike, grabbed Tom round the middle, then threw both of them through a window. Seconds later, the small, circular bomb exploded.