𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬

➜𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

THE BOY IN ROOM NINE

The nurse was twenty-three years old, blonde and nervous. This was only her second week at St Dominic's, one of London's most prestigious private hospitals. Rock stars and television celebrities came here, she had been told. There were also VIPs from abroad . VIPs here ment Very Important Patients. Even famous people get sick, and the ones who wanted to recover in five-star comfort chose St Dominic's. The surgeons and therapists were world class. The hospital food was so good that some of the patients had been known to pretend they were ill so that they could enjoy it while longer.

That evening, the nurse was making her way down a wide, brightly lit corridor, carrying a tray of medicines. She was wearing a freshly laundered white dress. Her name - D. MEACHER - was printed on a badge pinned to her uniform. Several of the junior doctors already placed bets on which of them would persuade her to go out with them first.

She stopped in front of an open door. Room nine.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Diana Meacher."

"I'm looking forward to meeting you too," the boy in room nine replied.

Alex Rider was sitting up in bed, reading a french textbook that he should have been studying at school. His hand stroked the black fluffy surface, its body moving up and down lightly showing that it was alive. He was wearing pajamas that had fallen open at the neck and the nurse could just make out the bandages criss-crossing his chest. Her eyes moved from him and towards the dark brown eyes, boring holes through her skin. She shuddered at the look of her, her head up and attentive watching her without batting her eyes. Her eyes quickly moved back up, watching the boy stroke its fur. He was a very handsome boy, she thought. He had fair hair and serious brown eyes that looked as if they'd seen too much. She knew he was only fourteen, but he looked older. Pain had done that to him. Nurse Meacher had read his medical file and understood what he had been through.

In truth, he should have been dead. Alex Rider had been hit by a bullet fired from a .22 rifle from a distance of almost seventy-five meters. The sniper had been aiming for his heart - and if the bullet had found its target, Alex could have had no chance of surviving. But nothing is certain - not even murder. A tiny movement saved his life. As he and his companion had come out of MI6's headquarters on Liverpool Street, they had stepped off the pavement, his right foot carrying his body down towards the level of the road. It was the exact moment that the bullet had hit him, and instead of powering into his heart, it had entered his body half a centimeter higher, ricocheting off a rib and exiting horizontally under his left arm.

The bullet had missed his vital heart structures, but even so it had done plenty of damage. Alex could have easily have died from shock or loss of blood. If he had been a man he almost would definitely have. But the body of a child is completely different from an adult. Alex was unconscious leaving his frantic companion barking and whining, but he was breathing, four minutes later, when the first ambulance arrived.

Alex had been rushed to St Dominic's, where surgeons had removed the bone fragments and put a graft on the artery. He had been in the operating theater for two and a half hours. It was surprising that they kept his companion with him, though they really did not have a choice, it would have barked or growled if it felt threatened. They didn't want it biting anyone so they left it be.

Now they were looking almost like as if nothing had happened. As the nurse came into the room, he closed the book and settled back into his pillows, and as if on cue the little one cuddled up beside him, making sure he and herself are warm. Diana Meacher knew that this was his last night in the hospital, he and his companion. They had been here for ten days and tomorrow they were going home. She also knew that she wasn't allowed to ask too many questions. It was there in large print on his files:

PATIENT 9/75958 RIDER/ALEX: SPECIAL STATUS (MISO). NO UNAUTHORIZED VISITORS. NO PRESS. LEAVE THE DOG. REFER ALL INQUIRIES TO DR HAYWARD.

It was all very strange. She had been told she would meet some interesting people at St Dominic's and she had been required to sign a confidentiality agreement before she began work. But she'd never expected anything like this. MISO stood for Military Intelligence: Special Operations. But what was the secret service doing with a teenage boy? How did Alex manage to get himself shot? Why are there two armed policemen sitting outside his room for the first four days of his stay? And who in their right mind would keep a whole wolf with them?? Diana tried to push these thoughts out of her mind as she put the tray down. Maybe she should have stuck with the NHS.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Looking forward to going home?"

"Yes."

Diana realized she was staring at Alex and turned her attention back to the medicines. "Are you in any pain?" she asked. "Can I get you something to help you sleep?"

"No, I'm alright." Alex shook his head and for a moment something flickered in his eyes. The pain in his chest had slowly faded but he knew it would never leave him completely. He could feel it now vague and distant, like a forgotten memory.

"Would you like me to come back later?"

"Ah, yes, I just want some treats for Atlas.." he ruffled the pup's fur, her tail wagging, patting the bed softly.

"I already have it sorted, should I leave it on the table or on the floor for her?" Diana asked with a nervous smile.

The boy chuckled softly at her and gestured to the table, "She'll have it there, thanks."

"your welcome, if you need me again, I'll be just down the hall. you can call me any time."

"i might do that."

The nurse picked up her tray and walked out of the room. she left behind the scent of her perfume - heather and spring flowers - in the air. Alex sniffed. It seemed to him that since his injury, his senses had become more acute. Atlas sniffed her bowl of little boned shaped cookies, she made one hundred percent sure that it wasn't poisoned with anything.

"Aku, go ahead its fine. They won't poison you." Alex smiled at her when she swiftly turned her head at the nickname he had for her. She gave him a little "woof" and took one out, crushing it with her canine teeth happily enjoying the taste it left in her mouth.