The ringing of a phone echoed through the waiting room despite the dozen posters on the wall urging silence. But rules didn't apply to Mrs. Jones, and there was no one in the room to side-eye her.

"Jones," she answered the phone.

A desperate voice greeted her, one she had learned to identify over the past few weeks. "I think something's wrong with Alex. He was acting weird and cold, and now he's not answering his phone. He left hours ago."

Mrs. Jones closed her eyes. Another headache was incoming. "Jack, listen to me. We're handling it."

"What? Do you know where he is? What's going on?"

"I will tell you later. Something went wrong, but we're taking care of it."

"What went wrong? Is Alex okay?"

"I'm with Alex. I'll contact you when everything is solved." She hung up before Jack could say anything else.

She didn't like keeping Jack in the dark, but she couldn't have her interfere at this moment. Yes, Alex would probably want her to be at his side. Yes, his condition was precarious. But she couldn't risk it; there were too many security risks.

But it wasn't just that. Mrs. Jones didn't know if Alex would make it. She didn't want to give anyone false hope, including herself. She would give some news when she was sure of it.

Someone entered the room, making her look up. It was Crawley, coming to assist her as promised.

"The clone was transferred," he stated, breaking the silence. "How's Alex?"

"The clone was wrong. Alex is still alive. He was found outside the school, passed out in the snow," she paused. "He's in pretty bad condition. They took him to surgery a while ago."

Crawley already knew that. She had reported to Blunt the moment Alex was found.

"It's not your fault, you know."

"He's my responsibility, I'm his handler. And I let him behind to die and brought a fake in his place," she admitted, and it was true. It was her job to take care of Alex as an agent, and she couldn't do it. She failed him, and now he was in a hospital bed paying the consequences.

"We couldn't have known they had made a clone of him."

They shouldn't have assumed. It was ridiculous, the level of carelessness they had shown in such a short span of time.

"I don't even know what to say to Jack Starbright. She called already."

It was strange to hear her say something like that. It had always been her to deal with the emotional side of things when it came to this job. It was always her who knew what to say. Leave it to Alex to change that.

"Blunt wants him transferred to Saint Dominic's as soon as he is cleared," Crawley said instead.

It was easier that way. With Alex in Britain, they could control security better, not risking having to be held back by foreign procedures or resources.

Before she could respond, a doctor entered the room, making them sit up instantly.

"Alex Rider?" he asked, but it came out more like a statement. They were the only ones in the room, after all.

She nodded anyway. "Come with me," he said, gesturing to the hallway.

"Alex came in not in a very good condition. His leg was the worst of it. Luckily, the metal didn't cut into any major artery. But he lost a lot of blood anyway and had to receive a blood transfusion. He is stable now, but he will have a long recovery ahead of him," the doctor explained.

Mrs. Jones sighed in relief. Alex would live. Her hands wouldn't be stained with more Rider blood, for now.

Alex may still be in a hospital bed, but at least he wasn't dead.

"With our major concern out of the way, we are able to assess the other injuries," they stopped in front of a door.

"We started raising his body temperature during surgery. It's a slow and continuous process that, for now, didn't raise immediate concern. What we are worried about is potential brain damage." The man put his hand on the doorknob. "I would never allow visitors in, but seeing his... special conditions, I was forced to allow. But take note that any disturbance, and I don't care about the above orders, you will be returning to the waiting room." He opened the door, showing an observation room surrounded by screens. In the other room was Alex, lying on a bed, leaving an MRI machine.

Mrs. Jones could barely see the state of the boy from where she was standing before nurses blocked her vision in the process of preparing him to move to another room.

"We're moving him to a private room, the same as before," from the tone, Mrs. Jones could sense the judgment underlying those words. It wasn't like they told everyone that they used Alex as a spy, but it didn't take a genius to put it together, not after the show they had to put on the last time they were here.

"What about the head injuries?" she asked. It was the whole reason Alex had been put in the machine.

"A concussion, but nothing major that could raise any immediate concerns. We will monitor forward development. For now, we just need to wait for Alex to wake up for further evaluation."

That was something. Every minute that passed gave her more hope that Alex would be alright, that he wouldn't be permanently damaged because of something she allowed to go on. He wouldn't be stuck in a hospital bed. He wouldn't be stuck in a wheelchair. He would still be able to go to school, to be a normal teenager, as normal as one could be after living through such a traumatic experience.

She entered the room they had taken Alex to, followed by Crawley. The room was empty, the only sounds were from the machines Alex was attached to. She sat down in one of the chairs, sighing. What a mess.

Beside all the assurance that Alex was out of danger, it still hurt Mrs. Jones to see him in that bed covered in bandages, connected to machines she didn't know the function of.

"I already informed Blunt," Crawley said, sitting in the chair next to her. "Maybe you should go and rest. He isn't going anywhere," Crawley said, noticing the dark bags under her eyes.

She shook her head, opening her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the door opening. A nurse entered. "I need to exchange the hot packets," she said, approaching Alex before taking off the blanket that was covering him, revealing multiple bags placed on different parts of his body.

The nurse wasn't the only one entering the room; a broad figure also entered.

"Wolf," Mrs. Jones said. "You can go back to base."

"I know. We wanted to know how he was doing," he said, gesturing with his head to Alex. She knew that Alex had grown on the man, and that he also felt guilty about what happened to him at that school.

"He's out of danger for now," it was all she needed to say. He understood the message. Wolf nodded once, and with one last look at the boy, he was out of the door, probably heading back to London.

Meanwhile, the nurse was also finished with her job, pushing the blanket back to Alex's shoulders before leaving the room once

again.

"I was serious; you should get some rest," Crawley persisted when they were alone again.

"I can't leave him alone."

"I'll stay here, I'll watch him."

"He's not your responsibility. I'm his handler."

"Jones, you're tired. He won't wake up anytime soon. Go. I have some work to do, so I'll stay here and make sure he doesn't attract any problems."

She stayed there for a moment before sitting up. Clearly, her tiredness had won her over. "Alright, but if anything changes, you call me."

Back in London, Jack was pacing back and forth, worrying about Alex. Her mind kept replaying the phone call she had with Mrs. Jones. Something was seriously wrong with Alex, and she didn't know what. She picked up her phone.

"Tom," she said as the other side answered.

"Jack? What is it?" he asked, noticing the desperate tone in her voice.

"It's Alex," she heard the other boy sigh.

"Did he say something to you as well? Look, he's been an ass to the whole school."

"No, Tom. Something is wrong. He didn't come home last night, and Mrs. Jones was all weird, telling me that something went wrong. Tom, I don't know what to do."

"I'll be there in 10 minutes."