Chapter 1-2-3

Chapter 1 - A New Beginning

Alex Rider woke up early that gray January morning. The biting cold of London seemed to seep into every crevice of his modest bed in his small Chelsea apartment. He had been standing for a few minutes, watching the dim light filtering through the curtains. His gaze was fixed on an envelope that rested on the table next to his bed. It was the enlistment form for the British Army.

Ever since the death of his uncle Ian and the traumatic months spent being manipulated by MI6 into dangerous missions, Alex had sworn that he would never let anyone control him again. But instead of turning his back on everything he had learned, he decided to do things the right way, in his own time and on his own terms.

Today was the day.

In the kitchen, Jack Starbright was finishing making toast while humming a song from the 80s softly. She was still the same warm and slightly disorganized figure that Alex had known since he was a child, but there was something different about her now. Maybe it was the way she seemed more relaxed, without the worries of caring for a teenager in constant mortal danger.

"So, today's the day, huh?" Jack asked casually, pushing a cup of tea toward Alex.

"Today's the day," Alex replied, his voice firm but with a hint of hesitation. He held the cup and stared into the dark liquid as if it would answer all the questions that occupied his mind.

"You don't have to do this, you know?" Jack sat across from him, looking him in the eye. "I know you want to move on, but there are other ways, Alex. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

Alex looked up at her, a slight smile on his lips. "It's not about proving, Jack. It's about doing something I decide. Something I control. The Army... it's my choice."

Jack sighed, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "Well, I just hope you know what you're getting into. Soldiers can be just as insufferable as spies, you know?"

Alex chuckled softly. "I'm sure I can handle them."

Hours later, Alex stood in the Whitehall recruitment office, surrounded by young men like himself, some older, some more inexperienced. The room was functional and characterless: hard chairs, white walls, and the constant sound of keyboards being used.

"Rider, Alex," a sergeant called out in a deep, experienced voice.

Alex stood, straightening his denim jacket. He walked to the counter, handing over the necessary forms and documents. The sergeant, a burly man with graying hair, studied the papers before looking up.

"Eighteen, huh? Looks like you're straight out of high school." He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to size Alex up. "Any previous experience?"

Alex hesitated. He couldn't exactly say he'd taken down international criminal operations and escaped from professional assassins.

"Something like that," he replied simply.

The sergeant raised an eyebrow, but didn't press. "Well, you look in good shape. That should help. Let's see if you're on your feet when training starts."

Alex simply nodded, feeling the adrenaline start to run through his veins. This was the beginning of a new journey.

On the way back home, Alex reflected on the decision he had just made. He knew that military life would not be easy, but compared to what he had already faced, he felt more than prepared. Either way, he knew he would have to work hard to prove himself worthy of being here, just like any other recruit.

When he arrived at the apartment, Jack was waiting for him with pizza and a worried look on his face. "So? How was it?" she asked, cutting a generous piece of pepperoni.

"It was pretty straightforward," Alex replied as she took a bite. "I start basic training in two weeks."

Jack stopped chewing for a moment. "Two weeks? That's fast."

"That's how it works, Jack," Alex said, trying to keep his tone light. "Besides, I'd better get started soon. The longer I wait, the more I'll doubt myself."

Jack shrugged, but there was something in her eyes that said she was reluctant to let him go. "Well, just make sure you write every now and then. Or at least send an email. I'm not going to sit here wondering if you're alive or dead, got it?"

Alex smiled. "Understood, Jack. I promise."

The day of departure arrived faster than Alex expected. He carried only a backpack with the essentials and was dressed in simple clothes. Jack walked him to the train station, where he would catch the shuttle to the training center.

"Last chance to give up," Jack joked, though his voice was tinged with emotion.

"I'm not giving up," Alex replied, hugging her. "Thanks for everything, Jack. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She patted his back before letting go. "You'd do fine. You always do."

Alex walked up on the train and found a seat near the window. As the train began to move, he glanced back and saw Jack waving. He waved back, feeling a mixture of anxiety and determination. The train sped up, and Jack disappeared from view.

The basic training center was exactly as Alex had imagined: austere dormitories, vast exercise fields, and instructors who looked ready to scream their heads off. He was placed in a platoon with twenty other recruits, most of them with no military experience whatsoever.

"Do you think you're ready for this?" the instructor shouted on the first morning. "Let me be clear: none of you are ready. I'm going to tear you to pieces before I build anything remotely useful. Does anyone here have any doubts about that?"

The silence was total, but Alex felt the nervous glances of the recruits around him. He, however, remained calm. The shouting didn't faze him; he had faced much worse.

Over the next few days, Alex quickly proved himself to be different. He had skills that most of the other recruits didn't even come close to possessing. His stamina was impressive, his focus unwavering, and he knew how to think under pressure.

"Rider," one of the recruits called out one night in the dorm. It was a tall young man named Davies. "How do you know all this stuff? Like…no one here can keep up with you."

Alex shrugged, lying back on his bed. "I had an uncle who taught me a lot. And I pay attention, that's all."

Davies laughed. "Pay attention, huh? I guess I need to start doing that too."

The training continued, and Alex stood out unintentionally. He wasn't an attention seeker, but he was impossible not to notice. While other recruits struggled to scale walls or traverse muddy terrain, Alex seemed to do it effortlessly. This, of course, caught the attention of the instructors.

By the fourth week, the sergeant in charge of basic training called Alex into his office.

"Rider," the sergeant said, motioning to a chair. "Sit down."

Alex did so, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"You're not like the other recruits," the sergeant continued, staring at him intently. "And I'm not just talking about your physical abilities. There's something about you... something that tells me you've seen things none of these other boys have."

Alex was silent for a moment before answering. "I've had an... unusual life. But I'm here to start over, Sergeant. I don't want any special treatment."

The sergeant studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Fair enough. But know this, Rider, the military is a place for those who want to grow, not hide. No matter what happened before, what matters is what you do from here on out. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Alex replied, his voice firm.

As he walked out of the office, Alex felt a new wave of determination. He was no longer in the shadows of MI6. Now he was forging his own path, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Chapter 2 - Interest in the Recruit

On a cloudy London morning, high above MI6 headquarters, Alan Blunt stood by the window, looking out over the Thames. His hands were clasped behind his back, his expression as impassive as ever. Sitting at the desk nearby, Miss Jones was leafing through a report with a watchful eye, but the tension in the room was palpable.

"So he's enlisted," Blunt said, not turning his head from the window.

"Yes," Jones replied, without looking up from the paper. "Alex Rider is now officially a recruit in Her Majesty's Army. He entered basic training a few weeks ago."

Blunt was silent for a moment before continuing. "An interesting decision. Yet predictable. He's always had a strong sense of independence. Something even we couldn't break."

Jones closed the file and folded his hands over it. "The question is, what do we do with this information? He's no longer a kid being manipulated by us. He's under the protection of the Army now, and interfering would raise unnecessary flags."

Blunt turned to face her, her gray eyes fixed. "We'll keep an eye on him. We can't afford to lose sight of an asset like Alex Rider, even if he's no longer under our direct control."

"This won't be easy," Jones said, arching an eyebrow. "Any move we make could draw attention. And frankly, we've already done enough damage. The last thing we want is more scrutiny of our actions with him."

Blunt shook her head slowly. "Calm is essential. We'll need caution... and patience."

Meanwhile, in a lavishly appointed office on the top floor of the building, "M," the overall head of MI6, read a classified report delivered that morning. With each page she turned, her expression hardened. Finally, she closed the file and set it on the mahogany desk.

"So they used a fourteen-year-old boy for field missions," she said, more to herself than to the others. Her eyes were bright with disapproval.

A trusted agent positioned in front of her stood silently, awaiting instructions.

"Blunt and Miss Jones may be competent in some areas," M continued, "but this has gone too far. I knew there had been irregularities in some of the Special Operations Division's operations, but using a child? That's absolutely unacceptable."

M sighed, her gaze wandering for a moment before returning to the agent in front of her. "I want you to keep an eye on them. Both of them. They're good at operating in the shadows, but I don't want any more unpleasant surprises. And one more thing…"

She picked up a second, smaller file, which contained Alex Rider's background. "I want you to monitor this boy. He's in the Army now, but he could still be useful to us in the future. If that happens, I want him treated with respect. We've done him enough harm already."

The man in front of her nodded. He was a seasoned agent, calm and lethal, known only as 007. His real name, James Bond, was rarely used within the agency.

"Understood, ma'am," Bond replied, his voice low and controlled. "But what exactly do you expect me to do with Rider? Just observation?"

"For now, yes," M. said. "He's an interesting piece on the board. We don't know how or if he'll be useful in the future, but we can't ignore his existence. Just make sure no one else manipulates him. Not even Blunt."

Meanwhile, Alex continued his routine at the training center. He was increasingly integrated into the group, but his natural ability and past training put him a step ahead of the other recruits. He tried hard to keep a low profile, but that didn't stop the others from noticing his efficiency.

That morning, the platoon was taken out for a combat exercise in a muddy field. The recruits sweated and groaned as they ran with heavy backpacks and simulated rifles. Alex, however, kept a steady pace, his mind focused.

"Rider, are you a machine or something?" Davies shouted, running alongside him, out of breath.

"No, I just know how to conserve energy," Alex replied, offering a brief smile before quickening his pace.

Later, after the exercise, Alex was sitting in a corner, cleaning his muddy boots, when the drill sergeant appeared.

"Rider, with me," the man ordered unceremoniously.

Alex followed the sergeant into the office, where he was greeted by a stern-faced senior officer.

"Private Rider," the officer began, "we are impressed with your performance. You seem to have a solid foundation that goes beyond what we would expect from someone of your age and experience. Where does that come from?"

Alex kept his gaze steady. "I had an uncle who taught me a lot before he died. He was a disciplined man."

The officer assessed him for a moment before nodding. "Keep it up, Rider. Soldiers like you make a difference."

Alex thanked him and left the office, but he couldn't help but feel there was more to this sudden interest.

Across London, James Bond was receiving the latest updates from an informant. He was in a discreet bar, sitting casually as he surveyed his surroundings. When the informant arrived, Bond leaned forward slightly.

"So," Bond began, his voice low. "Is Blunt still keeping tabs on Alex Rider?"

"Yes," the informant replied. "But they're being cautious. Any direct interference with the Army could be problematic for them. It seems they're waiting for the right opportunity."

Bond shook his head. "Classic Blunt. Always operating in the shadows. Keep monitoring. I want to know every move they make."

The informant nodded and slipped away. Bond finished his drink, considering the situation. He knew that dealing with Blunt would require patience, but he also knew that Alex Rider was someone not to be underestimated.

"A boy in the middle of all this," he muttered to himself. "I hope he gets the chance to live the life he deserves."

At MI6 headquarters, Blunt and Jones continued to discuss strategy.

"You do realize that M is keeping an eye on us now, don't you?" Jones said worriedly.

Blunt adjusted her glasses, unfazed. "Yes, but there's no concrete evidence of wrongdoing. And even if there was, our previous actions have produced results. Alex Rider saved lives. That's undeniable."

"But at what cost?" Jones countered. "If M decides we've gone too far, she can take us out of the game."

Blunt was silent for a moment before answering. "Then we need to be more careful. Rider isn't just a kid; he's an asset. If he's ever useful again, we need to make sure he's accessible."

Alex, unaware of the interest he still attracted, continued his Army training, focused on moving forward. But somewhere, he sensed something was lurking. After all, he had learned a valuable lesson from his experiences: even when you leave the past behind, the past doesn't always do the same.

Chapter 3 - Eyes on the Recruit

The sky was gray over the training camp, and mud had become a constant in Alex Rider's daily life. Between exhausting exercises, endless runs, and nights of little sleep, the young man not only survived, but excelled. He performed tasks that challenged experienced recruits as if they were trivial routines. It was as if he was made for that environment.

That day, the platoon was involved in an urban combat exercise. The simulated streets of the training camp looked like a war scene: abandoned structures, smoke in the air, and the sound of blank shots echoing in the distance. Alex led his group with precise strategy, coordinating movements like a veteran.

"Rider, we're surrounded!" shouted Davies, the recruit who always watched him with admiration.

"We're not," Alex replied quickly. "Hold position and cover my rear. I'll flank."

Before Davies could protest, Alex was already on the move, moving swiftly through the shadows. He neutralized the simulated "enemies" with precision, ensuring the team's victory.

Outside the camp, a man in camouflage fatigues and a beige beret watched the scene. He crossed his arms and let out a slight smile.

"This kid is different," the man commented. Beside him, the drill sergeant nodded.

"I knew you'd like to see him, Carter," the sergeant said. "I don't see many recruits like him. He's got something special. I thought it would be interesting to introduce someone in the SAS to his talents."

Later that day, Alex was cleaning his gear in the dormitory when the drill sergeant entered. He looked pleased, but there was a hint of seriousness in his expression.

"Rider, I need a word with you," he said, beckoning Alex outside.

Alex followed the sergeant to a quiet space near the training area. The man was silent for a moment, scanning the horizon before speaking.

"You know you're doing well, right?" the sergeant began, crossing his arms. "I'm not just talking about doing the drills. You have something that can't be taught."

"Thank you, sir," Alex replied, maintaining his formal posture, but not knowing where this would lead.

"It's not just your physical ability," the sergeant continued. "It's the way you think. How you anticipate moves, how you lead. That's rare. I'm starting to think this isn't the right place for you, Rider."

Alex arched an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean you have potential for something greater. Have you ever heard of the Special Air Service Regiment? The SAS?"

Alex nodded. It was impossible not to know the SAS, the elite of the British Armed Forces, made up of highly trained soldiers who were considered some of the best in the world.

"Of course," Alex replied. "But I didn't think it was for me... at least not yet."

The sergeant smiled slightly. "Not yet, really. But I have a friend in the SAS, Sergeant Carter. He was here today, watching. And you know what he told me? He said you've got what it takes."

That same evening, in the instructors' quarters, Sergeant Carter sat with a mug of coffee, discussing the day with his old friend.

"That kid, Rider," Carter said, shaking his head as he took a sip. "I've never seen anything like this in a recruit. It's like he's been through real life situations before."

"I thought so too," the instructor replied thoughtfully. "He doesn't talk much about his past. He only mentions that he was raised by his uncle, who was apparently a disciplined man. But something tells me there's more to the story."

"That explains a lot," Carter said, looking down at his mug. "Some guys are natural talents, but Rider... he operates on a different level. He thinks like a seasoned soldier, not a kid fresh out of school."

The instructor nodded in agreement. "He still has a lot to learn, but the foundation is there. If he keeps up this pace, you might see him in the regiment sooner than you think."

Carter smiled. "I'll keep an eye on him. I don't want to rush things, but when he's ready, I want him to consider the SAS. Talent like that shouldn't be wasted."

Meanwhile, Alex, unaware of the interest he was attracting, was in the dormitory with the other recruits. Davies, as usual, couldn't hide his curiosity. "So what did the sergeant want with you?" he asked, sitting on his bed.

Alex shrugged, trying to play it down. "He just talked about my performance."

"Oh, sure," Davies replied with a smile. "I'm sure he said you're a prodigy and that we should all be learning from you."

Alex laughed, shaking his head. "Nothing like that. Just a few words of encouragement, that's all."

Davies narrowed his eyes, feigning distrust. "You're too humble, Rider. I'm telling you, you're going to end up in some elite unit or something. You're not going to be alone."

Alex smiled, but didn't answer. Although he tried not to think about it, he knew that the Army was just the beginning. His experience with MI6 had changed who he was in ways he was still figuring out. And even though he tried to fit in with the regular recruits, he felt like his life would never be completely ordinary.

Over the next few days, Carter continued to observe Alex from a distance. He watched combat training, endurance races, and even survival exercises. With each test, Alex exceeded expectations.

In one observation, Carter told the instructor, "He has an incredible ability to adapt. It's like he knows exactly what to do, no matter the situation."

"Yeah," the instructor agreed. "And he never loses control. Even when he's under pressure, he thinks clearly."

Carter was silent for a moment, thinking. He knew Alex was still young and had much to learn, but he couldn't ignore his obvious potential.

"I'll let him follow the natural course of his training," Carter said finally. "But I'll be with him. When the time comes, I want him to have the opportunity to join the regiment."

Meanwhile, Alex continued to dedicate himself to his training. He didn't know what the future held, but he was determined to do the best he could. He still carried the ghosts of his past, but for the first time, he felt like he was in control of his own life.

Little did he know that watchful eyes were watching his every move, both inside and outside the Army. And although he didn't know it yet, his destiny was far from ordinary.

New stories in my Patreon 

This story is already complete there 

p@treon.com/SHADOWGHOST07 

Just replace the @ with an a