Ian locked up his bike, and with his bag slung over a shoulder, walked into the school. He was fairly early, so there weren't that many students in the halls. Just as he passed the boy's bathroom, the janitor stepped out of it, pushing a cart of cleaning supplies right into Ian's path.

"Oh, sorry," the janitor apologized.

"I'm sure you are, Joseph," Ian muttered, stepping around the cart. He cast a covert glare at Wolf, who didn't look sorry at all.

"Don't call me that, Cub," Wolf hissed back. He cast a quick glance around to make sure that nobody was watching them, then stepped closer. "I'm supposed to tell you. That Jasmine girl - she doesn't know that you used to be-" Wolf stopped, seeing the expression on Ian's face. A small frown crossed his own face, but he went on. "You're supposed to keep that classified. Don't tell her anything about what happened or what you did, all right?"

Ian backed up, scowling. "I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed, while trying to keep his voice low. "That wasn't me!"

Wolf just looked at him, and Ian could read the concern and sympathy there. It irritated him to no end. He didn't do anything, so he didn't need the man's pity! Wolf must've seen it on his face, because he quickly backtracked.

"All right, all right. Take it easy, kid. I just want to make sure you understand that you need to be careful around her. She's CIA, and she'll dig for any information she can get. Just keep it tight, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ian mumbled. "I got it."

"Good." Wolf noticed a few students approaching, and raised his voice. "Now, if you find out anything about who was flushing cigarettes down the toilet, you let me know, you hear?"

"Sure, Joseph. You'll be the first to know." Ian adjusted his bag, and walked away. He could feel Wolf's hard gaze on the back of his head, and he could just imagine that pitying look in the man's eyes. His hands clenched.

Why was Wolf pitying him? He didn't do anything! There was nothing, so why? Why that look?

ARARA

The morning passed by fairly smoothly, although Ian still couldn't make much sense out of what the instructors were talking about. He hoped that Jasmine would be a good tutor, but he wasn't getting his hopes up. It looked like he was doomed to fail this year.

So, everything was going well. Lunch hour came.

And then he screwed up.

He had decided to eat his lunch outside so that he could be by himself. It would become annoying if people wanted to talk to him, and try to find out more about him. Ian found a nice big tree, and sat in its shade, leaning back against its sturdy trunk.

As he ate his lunch, he leaned his head back, and stared up at the leafy mass above him. Silence, save for the flock of birds chirping in the tree's branches. Silence, save for the wind rustling through the leaves. It was nice. Ian relaxed for the first time in a long while, listening to the quiet sounds. Peaceful. . .

"N-noooooo!" A girl's scream shattered that silence into a billion pieces. It came so suddenly that Ian was startled jerking forward, which resulted in a spilled lunch.

Ian sucked in a shaky breath, eyes widening. He'd just realized that his right hand had automatically dropped to his right pocket, feeling around for a -

- a gun.

No, no, no. He clenched that hand into a fist, and brought it away. That - It. . .I didn't do that. Just forget it.

"St-stop it! Please, don't!"

Ian got to his knees, and peered around the tree. The source of all the noise was a rather pretty girl. Long black hair, almond-shaped eyes, about five-four. . . She was surrounded by about four rough-looking characters. Oh, wait. . .there was a male figure curled up on the ground.

As Ian was watching, one of the thugs gave the figure on the ground a kick. The girl wailed in response. Ian pulled back, and sat back down. It was the classic bully situation with a small twist. The thugs were beating on the girl's boyfriend, and she happened to be there when they caught him. Something that happened frequently. It was a normal occurrence.

It was also none of his business. It would be better if he stayed out of it. And besides, it be just thing he would do - to run in there and stop the whole commotion. But I'm not him. So I should do the exact opposite, right? Some teacher or supervisor would discover it soon anyway and stop it.

Ian closed his eyes, no longer feeling hungry. He tried to ignore the girl's wails, which were increasing in volume. He tried to ignore the dull, familiar thuds which he knew were the sounds of the girl's boyfriend behind beaten. He tried to ignore the bullies' satisfied snickers, who were obviously enjoying the superior feeling they got from picking on the weak.

He really did try.

"Please, stop it!" The girl cried.

"This is getting boring," one thug muttered in disgust. "Guy's not even fighting back."

"Hmm, yeah. . . .hey! Why don't we make it more interesting?"

"Yeah? Whatchya thinking?"

"I got a new knife yesterday. Let's see if he squeals when he gets cut." Cruel, excited laughter drifted to Ian's ears, followed by the girl's shrill cry of horror.

None of his business, none of his business.

So why was he walking around the tree, and towards the group?

He had a vague idea. It was stupid, but he just couldn't sit there and let a girl watch her boyfriend get sliced up by idiots.

Ian strode towards the group quickly, not even realizing that his hands were curled into fists. "Hey!" he called out. "What do you think you're doing?"

Four big, brawny teenagers turned to look at him, disbelief and scorn all over their faces. They were clearly thinking something along the lines of "what does this stupid twerp think he's doing?" The girl was staring at him with teary eyes, hopeful and pleading at the same time. The poor boy on the ground didn't move at all, or even make a sound. Was he even still alive?

Still alive? No. . . dead. . . An innocent woman, dead. An innocent man, dead. Death by bullets. Death by a teenager. . .

Ian stumbled, eyes widening in horror. No! Not mine. Not mine! He forced his mind to clear, to empty, to become blank. He's gone. Gone. . . He recovered quickly enough, and focused his attention on the matter at hand. Now, why was he doing this again?

"Whaddya want?" The boy with the knife drawled lazily. He was smaller than his cronies, but with the knife in his hand, he was feeling pretty confident. He was sure he could scare this newcomer away.

However, Ian wasn't planning on being scared away. "Leave them alone," he said quietly. "Just go away, all right?"

"Now why would we do that? We're having so much fun, aren't we?" The knife-bearing bully looked over at the girl, and smiled a grotesque smile. She made an odd sound, something between a sob and a hiccup, and gazed pleadingly at Ian.

"See that?" The bully turned back to Ian. "We're having lots of fun, so why don't you join in, too? Let's see how long it takes for Mr. Boyfriend to start crying for his mommy."

A man flashed before Ian's mind. A man with black and white skin wearing a sickening smile. "All I had to do was send a bullet right through the window, and straight into his head. It was great; and incredibly thrilling, you know? One second he was telling some old story to all those little children, and then pop -" The man pointed a finger at his own head, and mimed shooting - "He was dead. Easy as that."

Disgusted rage and hatred welled up like a tidal wave, almost overwhelming him. "You are sick," he hissed at the four teenagers. His hands trembled. "Get out of here."

"Huuhh?" The bully leaned in closer, like he had trouble hearing. "Whassat?"

Ian glared. "I said. Get. Out. Of. Here. Now."

All four of them looked stunned. They looked at him, uncertain, and a little fearful. This newcomer - he was starting to scare them. Those dark eyes seemed to burn them alive, flay them right where they stood. But their leader still had faith in his new pocket knife.

"What're ya gonna do?" He sneered at Ian. "You're way outnumbered. There's no way - "

"Shut up," Ian snapped. He helped the bully to do it by lifting a leg and slamming his foot into the kid's face. The boy fell like a heavy stone, and his precious knife clattered to the ground a second later.

"H-hey!" The others charged Ian as one.

Ian stepped to the side, so that all three passed harmlessly by. Moving in from behind, he kicked one of them in the butt, sending him sprawling to the ground. The remaining two whirled around, shouting some angry nonsense.

They swung heavy fists at the same time, attacking him from both sides. Ian grabbed one wrist, and ducked under the other. He drove his own fist into the gut of the boy he held, then let go. Spinning around, he dodged another wild swing, and slammed his elbow into the last bully's stomach. The boy went down, and immediately vomited.

Hearing a noise behind him, Ian whirled, and glared death and daggers at the boy whose butt he'd kicked, literally. The teenager, who'd been trying to sneak up, immediately sat back down, wincing.

Ian turned away, and stepped over three twitching bodies to get to the girl's boyfriend. Kneeling down, he observed a pair wide, frightened eyes gaping at him. "Can you stand?" he asked quietly.

"Uh. . .y-yeah, I th-think. . ." The boy pulled away, and struggled to get to his feet. Ian noticed that he'd have a face full of bruises tomorrow morning. It could've been worse if he hadn't stepped in when he did. He rose, and stepped back. The girl seemed to have gathered her quivering wits because she rushed over to her boyfriend.

She clutched his arm, then looked at Ian. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Hn." Ian turned away. Most of his anger had faded away; now he was just annoyed like a hornet whose hive had just been destroyed. Time to go back inside. He was sick of being outside.

"That was really neat!" A female's voice suddenly cooed. "So you do have some useful skills!"

Ian stopped. He stared. A beautiful, long-legged girl stood in front of the school's doors, smiling mockingly at him. Her blond hair was long and curly, curving lightly about her waist. Her baby blue eyes were fixed directly on him.

"Jasmine," he growled. "What are you doing here?"

ARARA

He'd just been curious. He'd just wanted to know more. But now, Tom wasn't sure if he was glad he'd followed Ian outside, or if he was regretting that decision.

Well, he supposed he was glad, because the way that Ian took out those bullies - that was awesome! The transfer student had to have gone to some famous, huge martial arts dojo or something to learn how to do that. Barely five seconds, and all four of them were on the ground. On the other hand, Tom wasn't sure if it was a good thing. Ian had looked really angry when taking on those guys, and if he found out that Tom was following him. . .

Tom leaned against the side of the garbage container. He was lucky it was a huge, cement thing - it was big enough to hide him completely if he crouched.

"That was really neat!" The sound of the velvety, smooth female voice made him look again. "So you do have some useful skills!"

Tom became mesmerized by the vision standing in front of the door. She was definitely older than he was, but that didn't matter. She was a gorgeous, model-like beauty that just demanded to be stared at.

"Jasmine." Ian stopped right in front of the girl. In a voice that sound angry, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Huh? Wait a minute. Ian knew this stunning beauty? Tom leaned in towards the pair, trying to glean every bit of information he could gather.

"Aw, I was so excited," Jasmine pouted, crossing her arms. "I couldn't wait to get started, so I thought -"

"Look." Ian walked up to her, and stood nose-to-nose, getting in her personal space. "I don't need, nor do I want a wannabe following me around for two months. So why can't you just forget about it, and go away?"

Jasmine didn't seem fazed. "Why the harsh words? Don't you like me?"

"No." Ian tried to walk around her, but she only stepped into his way.

"I came to see you. So why can't you be nice?"

"Go away." He tried to get past her, but again she blocked his path. He let out an annoyed sound. "Why are you so persistent?"

"'Cause I'm curious. I want to know more about you. They said you're a replacement, but I want to know: Are you just as good as him? Or was he better than you? Hmmm?"

Ian went still. "Stop it."

"Tell me first. Are you just as good as the famous Alex Rider?"

Tom froze. And stared at them in shock. What. . .what was this?

"Just. . .just shut up!" Ian shouted. "He has nothing to do with me! Alex Rider is dead!"

ARARAR

I don't understand.

Why am I panicking at the mere mention of that name? It was supposed to be lost, forgotten. But. . .

I stare at her, fists clenched, shaking. . . angry. . .frightened.

"Alex is dead?" A small voice asks quietly from behind me.

I know that voice.

I turn slowly, so slowly, and face a nightmare.

Tom.

Why is he here?

Shock. Panic.

Horror.

Fear.

Blinding, overwhelming fear.