AN: My third fan-fiction. Soon, I will be a qualified beta-reader!
If you've wondered why I wasn't posting much recently, it was because I was working on this one.
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Alex waved his arms and shouted out, "Car Wash to your left!" to the oncoming traffic. The football team had not received much money from the budget for this year, so the team members were running a variety of fundraisers.
Alex was standing on the street on the little patch often found in between the two lanes, advertising for the car wash at the gas station nearby and accepting donations when cars held them out their windows. He ran up to a Jeep that had a dollar dangling from a hand and profusely thanked the driver before the traffic light turned green. The dollar fell into a nearly full jar; not that a passerby could see the money already collected.
Alex ran across the street with the walking sign to drop off the donation he had collected. He helped wash a few cars and then ran back out for more donations.
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As it grew to be the afternoon, Alex was starting to get a bit tired. The coach preferred that he collected donations, claiming Alex raised the most. Alex didn't know why he did- most of the cars he got money from had cute girls in them, though, and he swore he saw one car at least 4 times; it hadn't gotten a wash yet, though.
"Get your car cleaned at the gas station to your left!" Alex cried. Tom was standing beside him, holding the sign for advertising. Another person held out some money, so Alex, being the runner, darted up the large minivan to accept the donation.
As Alex reached for the money, the driver's other hand caught his wrist and pulled him towards the car. Alex obliged, startled, but tried to twist away when the man turned the money over to reveal a hypodermic syringe. It was inserted into his wrist as the passenger door slid open next to him.
Black spots formed in the corners of Alex's vision. He heard Tom calling out and felt arms drag him into the car's midsection before he lost consciousness.
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"Mr. Blunt, Mrs. Jones, we have received a threat," said one of the office workers as she entered the bland office.
"What is it?" Alan Blunt asked, comfortably seated behind her desk.
"A boy was kidnapped on Riverbed Street today, and the two kidnappers are demanding a ransom from the government for the boy's safe return."
"Then why are we being contacted? This sounds like the police's job," Mrs. Jones asked.
"The boy was Alex Rider, ma'am," the secretary answered. "The kidnappers had threatened to hurt the child if the government did not pay. The amount wasn't outrageous, but the government refused to pay into their bank accounts because there was no guarantee that the kidnappers would return the boy. Police are on the lookout, but there's not much hope." The threesome in the room all knew that the government would hush up any 'mistakes'.
Mrs. Jones didn't waste a moment. "I want all agents on duty trying to find him, if possible. We do owe him a few favors."
Alan Blunt added to her comment. "It would also be ideal to keep him in good condition should a need arise." Mrs. Jones stiffened but didn't speak.
"Right away, sir. Should we attempt to involve the Secret Air Service?" A pair of curt nods came in reply. "Very well, sir, ma'am." The secretary left the room.
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Alex awoke. He didn't know where he was, but his wrists were duct taped together behind a simple office chair with wheels. He realized he was in some sort of a car when the 'room' turned and stopped. As his senses grew sharper, Alex eavesdropped on the robber's conversation in the front seat.
"That's right, they'll be looking for that jeep we drove up in. Didn't I tell you it was genius to do rent a moving van? We drop the van off in someone's drive and take the van away. Simple, easy, efficient, and foolproof. No one would ever suspect such a bulky vehicle!" This man sounded like the leader, Alex thought.
"Where are we going?" This man was apparently in the passenger's seat.
"Oh, we're just going to drive around for a bit. They've probably got checkpoints on all the highways and there'll be officers patrolling the streets. If we have to make a video with the kid, then it'll look like an office building, so they'll stop looking around the town's outskirts; then we can leave then for another place to hide. With luck, we'll get our cash and can drop the kid off without doing that, though." Sure enough, Alex noted the back part of the car was decorated like an office.
"Oh shoot!" the other man cried. "I forgot to say we'd drop off the brat in that email I sent to the police."
"Great. You know just as well as I do that we can't possibly make contact with the government again without being traced. We'll have to make the video and send it to the media now – the government is not going to pay without some more persuasion. It's your mistake, so you do it!"
Alex stilled as the moving van stopped. He heard the back door open but knew better than to call out. He looked up when he heard rustling behind him, presumably the henchman opening the back door.
The door was closed and Alex saw a man with a mask on holding a knife. Alex's eyes widened as he realized the man's intentions. The man looked at Alex and saw he was awake.
"Hey, kid, no hard feelings, okay? I want to get this done with as soon as you do," he said apologetically. The man reached up to a video camera and turned it on. He started holding up signs, obviously with some text. Alex didn't speak, for he guessed the camera lacked sound. Alex leaned away from the man as he approached. "Kid, scream if you want, but the camera's got no sound. Just look really scared, alright? I don't want to do this either."
"Then why are you?" Alex replied. He kept his expression calm and collected. He could kick the man if he had to.
"Money," was the short answer. Alex's kicking plan failed when the man moved behind Alex to work; it would let the camera see everything, Alex realized. The man proceeded to cut Alex's shirt down the middle, from top to bottom. The man opened the 'jacket' he made, but not enough to see Alex's scar. Alex remained emotionless, even as the knife drew several lines across his chest and blood trickled from where the blade had touched. The man went back to the front and held up a few more signs. Alex felt faint as more blood trickled out of him, but he didn't let it show. The man ended the video.
The other more-leader-like kidnapper entered the back of the vehicle and watched the video. "Darn kid, you've got one heck of a poker face," he said. "Well, time to deliver to the media. Don't move, kid. If you do, I'll need to use this" – the man held up a wet handkerchief – "to make you stop. Go," he commanded the other man. The henchman wheeled a motorcycle out the back of the van, down a ramp, and onto the pavement. The motorcycle had been out of sight under a tarp, not in the camera's view. The moving van remained parked.
Alex watched in silence as the man drove off with a video.
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Wolf frowned as he looked at the video he received. He couldn't see the kid's face, but the color red was vivid. It was around 6:00 PM, and now there was a hostage situation.
"One thing's for sure: that's not an office building," commented another officer, who watched over Wolf's shoulder. "See, the desk is broken and the walls are wrong." Wolf nodded in agreement.
One question was in their minds: where was that kid?
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AN: I hope you like it!
I wanted to write a cliff-hanger; I did so for every chapter. Everyone's jumping off cliffs, so I will too!
But I hate cliff-hangers when I read them, so I posted all the chapters at once. I suppose that defeated the purpose... Pace yourselves!