(Alex Rider Fanfiction) Floating in the Dark

Eleven

He gazed out the window, watching the dark ocean below. Patches of clouds temporarily blocked the view. The dull thrumming of the engines vibrated throughout the large cabin, creating a constant sound. That did not bother the man seated next to Alex; the balding fellow was awkwardly sprawled in his seat, his head thrown back with uneven snores emitting from his open mouth.

A few seats away, a young mother was trying to shush her whimpering baby. The little one was threatening to break into earsplitting wails.

Alex closed his eyes, and turned away from the window. There wasn't much to see, anymore. The clouds were growing thicker. He leaned back in his seat, and followed the balding man's example.

However, he wouldn't sleep. He couldn't. Ever since then, he hadn't had a real sleep. He merely existed on fitful naps with echoing screams and raining blood.

Beside him, the man snored. The baby broke into angry shrieks. At the back of the plane, there was a loud crash as a flight attendant dropped a tray of dishes. The air thrummed relentlessly, resonating with the roar of the engines.

But Alex didn't hear any of it. He was already far away, floating in a dark, silent place.

ARAR

The plane was old, noisy, and cramped. Not to mention shaky. However, it was the only thing that MI6 had in the area that could get them to Washington in the same day.

It could hardly be called a plane. As Eagle put it, it was a scrap pile of metal that gained the ability to fly. Their pilot was a nervous, young guy who looked fresh out of high school.

Their ride lurched suddenly, nearly throwing them out of their seats. Eagle let out an annoyed sound, while their pilot shouted out something that sounded apologetic.

Fox smiled to no one in particular. "I'm surprised that MI6 had something as junky as this thing around."

"Tch. I'm just glad that it flies," Snake muttered. His thin face seemed somewhat green. It wasn't surprising, with the way the old plane seemed to skitter and bounce across the sky.

Wolf was turning over a strange gun in his hands. It was lighter than most its size, yet the barrel was wider and longer. It was currently unloaded. The weapon had been given to him by Algonthin just before they had taken off.

"Hey Wolf. What's that?" Eagle asked. Actually, he had a very good idea of what it was, but he wanted to hear it from their team leader.

"Hn," Wolf grunted, putting the weapon inside a holster that was slung across his shoulders. With his heavy, brown jacket over it, it was hidden from view. "Tranq gun."

"Oh..." Eagle grew somber. Just as he figured, but hearing it made him recall just what exactly this mission was about.

"If it doesn't work, our orders to aim for the legs or arms," Wolf spoke softly. His dark eyes were anything but happy. "We can't go back without him."

For a while, the only sound was the groaning of the fuselage, and the angry sputters of the twin engines. K — Unit fell silent, thinking over their grim task. And each of them wondered why. Why did Alex Rider join Scorpia? Why did he kill the former deputy head of MI6. And why had he chosen to become an assassin?

ARAR

On March 13, at 2:15 p.m., the President of the United States would address the general public about the issue of the worsening global environment.

At 2:20 p.m., Alex had to be at the very front of the crowds, no less than fifty feet away from the President himself. Which wouldn't be very easy, due to the secret service. But they figured Alex could manage it, be the innocent looking boy he was. Alex inwardly scoffed at this.