Chapter 10-11-12

Chapter 10 – Joint Force

The heat in Baghdad was almost unbearable, even in the early morning. The horizon was already shimmering under the rising sun, promising another brutal day.

Alex Rider adjusted his helmet and took a deep breath, feeling the familiar weight of the L115A3 rifle strapped to his back. This time, he would be in his primary position: as a sniper, providing support for a joint force mission between the United States and United Kingdom armies.

The briefing had been quick but straightforward. The joint force needed to neutralize an insurgent cell that was heavily positioned in a cluster of abandoned buildings. The area was strategic, serving as both a supply route and an ambush point. The mission was simple on paper: move in, neutralize the threat, and secure the area.

Wilkinson walked over to Alex as he checked his equipment. The sergeant looked even more serious than usual.

"Rider, you're our eyes on the ground today. I don't want to lose any men in this operation, so your accuracy will be essential. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Alex replied firmly, meeting Wilkinson's gaze.

"Good. The Americans will provide heavy support, but remember that we are a team. Work with them and keep communication open."

Alex nodded, adjusting the radio on his shoulder. "You'll do it, Sergeant."

The British force met up with the Americans at a temporary forward base a few miles from the objective. The site was bustling with activity, with soldiers from both countries adjusting equipment, cleaning weapons, and exchanging information.

Alex eyed the American soldiers curiously. They looked confident and experienced, most of them equipped with sunglasses and gleaming weapons. Among them, a tall, burly man with a short beard and worn uniform approached the British.

"Are you infantry support?" the man asked, his accent thick with American.

Wilkinson held out his hand. "Sergeant Wilkinson, British Infantry Regiment. We will provide support and sniper coverage."

The American shook his hand tightly. "Captain Harris, Rangers. We have infantry and vehicle support. The sky is ours, but the terrain will be tricky."

Harris glanced at Alex, who was arranging his equipment next to Henderson. "Is that your sniper?"

"Yes," Wilkinson replied with an almost proud smile. "He's young, but he has eyes like gold."

Captain Harris stepped closer and looked Alex up and down, frowning. "How old are you, boy?"

"Eighteen, sir," Alex replied firmly.

Harris chuckled softly, shaking his head. "England sure does like to put its young men through the fire."

Then, in a more serious tone, he added, "I just hope you're as accurate as they say you are."

"You'll see," Alex replied confidently.

The joint forces began moving just before noon, the heat pulsing like a shockwave through the still air. The convoy of armored vehicles moved slowly, soldiers walking in formation along the sides of the road, weapons drawn and eyes trained.

Alex was positioned atop one of the vehicles, his L115A3 ready and his scope adjusted. He could see everything ahead clearly: the dusty ruins of buildings slowly approaching, shadows moving between the structures.

"Contact ahead," Alex announced over the radio. "High position on the building to the north. Possible overwatch."

Wilkinson responded immediately: "Confirm and neutralize if hostile."

Alex adjusted his scope, zooming in. The man was holding a radio and looked agitated. Hostile confirmed.

"Engaging," Alex muttered.

The shot rang out, and the man went down. Over the radio, Captain Harris responded in a more respectful tone: "Nice shot, kid. Everyone on alert. That might have alerted the rest of them."

As the forces approached the perimeter of the buildings, all hell broke loose. AK-47 fire rained down from the upper windows, forcing the soldiers to take cover. The Americans responded with precision and superior firepower, while the British maneuvered to flank.

"Rider, find those snipers!" Wilkinson shouted over the radio.

Alex quickly climbed to a safe position on a small mound of rubble, set up his rifle, and began scanning for targets. His breathing became slow and controlled as he swung the scope from side to side.

"Second-floor window, central building," Alex muttered. The sound of gunfire echoed, and the insurgent went down.

"Another one on the roof, building to the left." Another well-placed shot.

As Alex provided cover, the soldiers advanced. He knew that every shot was crucial, allowing his comrades time to move and pressure the enemy.

Henderson shouted over the radio, "Good job, Rider! Keep it up!"

After minutes of intense combat, the sound of an Apache helicopter rang out in the distance, growing louder. The air support had arrived, spitting volleys of missiles at the fortified buildings, forcing the insurgents to retreat.

"All units, advance now!" Harris ordered.

Alex dismounted his position and climbed down to follow the team. As they advanced, he saw the American and British soldiers clearing the buildings, each room being checked with precision. Small explosions could be heard inside, followed by commands and scattered gunfire.

A short time later, silence began to set in. The remaining insurgents had either been neutralized or had fled. The soldiers began to gather in the center of the area, checking for casualties and organizing security positions.

Alex, covered in dust and sweat, sat in a corner, disassembling his rifle and quickly cleaning the scope. His body was tired, but the adrenaline was still pumping.

Captain Harris approached, with a satisfied smile. "Kid, I gotta hand it to you—you're good. Saved a few lives today."

"Thanks, sir," Alex replied, not taking his eyes off his rifle.

Wilkinson joined them, smiling slightly. "I told you so. Alex may look young, but he's got more control than most veterans I know."

Harris nodded, looking at Alex with genuine respect. "Maybe you picked the right place to be, kid. Keep it up, and you'll go far."

Back at base, the night brought a rare silence. Alex sat outside his barracks, staring at the stars above the desert. He thought about the day, about every shot he'd fired, and how such a simple action could mean life or death for someone.

Henderson sat down next to him, handing him a bottle of water.

"Thinking a lot, huh?"

Alex nodded. "Just... trying to process it all."

"You did a great job today, Rider. Don't let it weigh you down. You saved lives."

"I know," Alex said, with a small smile. "But it still feels strange to be here. Like this is where I'm supposed to be, but still... out of place."

Henderson laughed softly. "That never changes. But you're on the right track. And today, you proved it."

Alex looked up at the stars again and took a deep breath. He knew there would be many more days like this challenges, dangers, and difficult choices. But for the first time, he felt like he was part of something bigger.

Chapter 11 – A Familiar Voice

Night had fallen over the Iraqi desert, and the military camp was quiet. Only the distant sound of patrol vehicles and the occasional murmur of soldiers on watch filled the air. Alex Rider sat on a makeshift bench, holding the satellite phone he had been loaned by Sergeant Wilkinson. He finally had a moment to call Jack Starbright.

Jack, his nanny and mother figure, was one of the few people Alex truly trusted. She had cared for him since his parents' deaths and continued to be a safe haven amidst the storm that was his life. Alex could tell she was worried, even though she had tried to sound calm before he left.

He took a deep breath and dialed the number he knew by heart. After a few rings, a familiar voice, warm and concerned, answered on the other end.

"Hello? Alex? Is that you?"

"It's me, Jack," Alex replied, a soft smile spreading across her face at the sound of her voice.

"Oh my God, Alex! You finally call! I was going crazy with worry. How are you? Is everything okay? Are you safe?"

Alex laughed lightly. "Calm down, Jack. I'm fine. Everything is going as planned. We've had some complicated missions, but I'm in one piece."

"Complicated?" Jack's voice got higher pitched. "Alex, you promised you'd be careful! I knew it would be dangerous, but hearing that from you... It's like hearing those stories about when MI6 put you in absurd situations."

"I know, I know," Alex replied quickly, trying to reassure her. "But this is different, Jack. Here, I have a team. I'm not alone. And I'm doing everything I can to keep everyone safe."

Jack took a deep breath on the other end. "I trust you, Alex, but it's hard not to worry. You're practically my family. If something happens to you..." She trailed off, trying to control her emotions.

"Nothing will happen to me," Alex said firmly. "I promise, Jack. I'm being careful. More careful than I've ever been."

"So tell me," Jack said, trying to sound calm. "What's it like there? How's the experience been?"

"It's... intense," Alex replied, choosing his words carefully. "The heat is unbearable. We're always on alert, always ready for anything. But at the same time, there's a sense of purpose here, you know? I'm doing something that really matters."

"You've always done things that mattered," Jack replied fondly. "Even when you were forced to."

Alex smiled. "This time, it's different. It was my choice. I'm here because I want to be. And honestly, that makes all the difference."

There was a pause before Jack asked, "What about the team? What are the people you're working with like?"

Alex thought for a moment before answering. "They're great. Wilkinson, my sergeant, is an incredible leader. He trusts me, which means a lot. And then there's Henderson... He's like a big brother. He always has my back and keeps me grounded."

"That sounds good," Jack said. "At least you're not dealing with this alone. You deserve that, Alex. People who really support you."

Jack hesitated before asking something that seemed to weigh on his mind. "Alex, I know this isn't the first time you've been in danger. Everything that happened with MI6... Do you think that prepared you for what you're going through now?"

Alex was silent for a moment. It was a question he asked himself often. He finally answered, his voice more serious. "Yes, I think it has prepared me. But it has also changed me, Jack. After everything I've been through, I don't think I'll ever be the same person again. That can be both good and bad."

"You're still you, Alex," Jack said, his voice soft. "I still see that stubborn kid who hated following orders but always did the right thing. You've just...grown up."

"Thanks, Jack," Alex said, feeling a surge of gratitude. "You always know what to say."

"That's why I'm here," she replied with a touch of humor. "Now tell me: are you eating right? Getting enough sleep? And no skipping meals!"

Alex laughed. "Yes, Mom. I'm taking care of myself, I promise."

The conversation continued, with Jack asking about lighter details what the food was like, if Alex was enjoying working with a team, and even if he'd made any new friends. But as the conversation drew to a close, Jack's tone returned to concern.

"Alex, just... promise me you'll keep taking care of yourself, okay? I know you can do it, but that doesn't mean I won't worry. You're all I have."

"I promise, Jack," Alex replied, his voice firm. "I'll do everything I can to come back in one piece. And not just for me, but for you too."

There was a moment of silence before Jack replied, his voice softer. "I believe in you, Alex. And I'm proud of you, more than you know."

The time to the call was ending, and Alex knew he would have to hang up soon. "I have to go, Jack. But I'll try to call you back as soon as I can."

"Please do," Jack said. "And take care of yourself. I'll be here waiting."

"I know. Thank you, Jack. For everything."

"Take care, Alex. I love you."

"I love you too, Jack," Alex replied, his voice sincere. Then he hung up.

Alex sat on the bench for a few minutes after the call. The night was quiet, but he felt the weight of what he had promised. Protecting his team and himself wasn't just a matter of survival it was a matter of keeping the people he loved safe, too.

He looked up at the stars shining in the dark sky, allowing himself a brief moment of calm before returning to the reality of the field. Jack was right: he had changed, but he was still Alex Rider. And that meant he would never stop fighting for what was right—no matter the cost.

Chapter 12 – The Haunting

The darkness in the desert was almost absolute, broken only by the faint glow of the stars. It was the perfect cover for the night's mission. Alex Rider adjusted his position on the roof of an abandoned building, feeling the familiar weight of the L115A3 rifle in his hands. The mission was simple on paper: protect a supply convoy that would pass through a route known for insurgent ambushes.

But as Alex knew all too well, in war nothing was simple.

"Rider, are you listening?" Henderson's voice came over the radio, low but clear.

"Listening," Alex replied, adjusting the scope on his rifle to make sure it was perfect.

"We're approaching the danger zone. All eyes open. Is your position okay?"

Alex looked around. The rooftop gave him a wide view of the road and the surrounding hills, where the insurgents were likely hiding. "Perfect," he replied.

"Good. Stay alert. Report any unusual movement immediately."

Alex nodded, even though Henderson couldn't see him. He adjusted his radio on his shoulder and continued to scan the area with his scope. The convoy moved slowly along the dusty road, the armored vehicles illuminating the darkness with their headlights.

Minutes later, Alex saw the first sign of trouble. A faint reflection of light on the distant hills caught his eye. He focused his scope in that direction and saw the glint of a weapon being adjusted.

"Contact," he whispered into the radio. "East hill, high position. Possible sniper."

"Confirmed. Take him out if you can," came Henderson's reply.

Alex took a deep breath, adjusted his rifle, and pulled the trigger. The sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the night, and he saw the silhouette of the sniper collapse.

"Target neutralized," Alex reported calmly.

But he barely had time to celebrate. Gunfire began to ring out from several directions, and the convoy came to an abrupt halt. The attack had begun.

"We're under heavy fire!" one of the soldiers shouted over the radio. "We need support!"

Alex sprang into action. He scanned the area with his scope, spotting insurgents hiding in trenches and among the rocks. Each shot he fired was accurate, taking down one enemy after another.

"Rider, there's more movement on the western hill!" Henderson warned.

Alex spun to the opposite side and saw a group of insurgents running for higher ground. He fired again, taking out two of them in quick succession. The others scattered, but not before Alex had taken down one more.

"That's it, kid!" Henderson called over the radio. "Keep it up!"

The insurgents tried to advance, but each time they moved, Alex intercepted them with accurate fire. The pressure he put on them allowed the convoy to regroup and respond to the attack.

The battle reached its climax when one of the insurgents attempted to use a grenade launcher to hit one of the armored vehicles. Alex saw the movement and fired before the man could fire. The insurgent fell, and the grenade detonated harmlessly on the ground.

"You saved our lives, Rider!" an American soldier shouted over the radio.

But Alex did not respond. He was already aiming at another target, a man commanding the insurgents from a higher position. The leader was gesturing and shouting orders, trying to reorganize his men.

Alex held his breath and fired. The man fell, and chaos ensued among the insurgents. Without their leader, they began to retreat.

"They're retreating!" Henderson announced. "Good job, Rider!"

When the battle was over, the convoy was able to continue on its way without further incident. Alex descended from his position on the roof and met up with his team, who had arrived to secure the area.

Wilkinson approached, his expression a mix of pride and disbelief. "Rider, I heard you took out over ten of them by yourself tonight."

Alex shrugged, still feeling the adrenaline rush. "Just doing my job, sir."

"Your job?" Wilkinson laughed, shaking his head. "If that's your 'job,' you're redefining the meaning of the word. You didn't just protect the convoy; you turned the tide of the battle."

Henderson also approached, giving Alex a friendly slap on the shoulder. "You did amazing, kid. You know, the insurgents are already talking about you."

Alex frowned. "Talking about what?"

"I heard it on the intercepted radio. They called you 'awesome.' They say you appear out of nowhere and no one escapes your reach."

Alex didn't know what to say. He had never cared about nicknames or reputation, but he knew they could be an advantage. Fear was a powerful weapon.

Later that night, Alex sat alone, cleaning his rifle by the dim light of a flashlight. He thought about what Henderson had said. Being called "awesome" was something he hadn't sought, but perhaps it was inevitable.

His training, his experience, everything he had past before he got here all of it had prepared him for moments like this.

But at the same time, he felt the weight of what he had done. Ten lives. Ten people he had taken, even if they were enemies. He knew it was necessary, that it was his mission, but it was still hard to ignore the impact.

Wilkinson stepped closer, interrupting his thoughts. "Don't let this consume you, Rider."

Alex looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean, sir?"

"What you did today saved lives. Remember that. They had a choice, and they chose to fight. You only did what you had to do to protect your comrades."

Alex nodded slowly, putting away his rifle. He knew Wilkinson was right, but that didn't make it any easier.

As the night wore on, Alex lay down, staring at the roof of the tent. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing: he would keep fighting, no matter what. To protect his comrades, to fulfill his mission. And if he had to, he would still be the "amazing one."

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