Keysmith [NOT FANFICTION] ✓completed

The Art of Monologuing // Joey

THERE ARE TWO WAYS THAT CRIMINALS ARE CAUGHT.

The first kind are the ones that are caught through rigorous planning, years of experience, careful action and a foolproof strategy on the captor's behalf.

The second kind are those who are caught through cards of coincidences, shuffled by the hands of Fate or Destiny or whatever you want to call it, leaving the criminal stuck like a poker player with a deep debt of things they couldn't possibly have foreseen. 

As much as I hate to admit it, Lex's capture was of the second kind.

It was pure coincidence that Lex had decided to start from scratch instead of keeping a reserve, resulting in the fact that he needed a job to maintain himself. It was pure coincidence that the British Reporters Sunday Standard — which, in case you missed it, is a cover-up for the Highcrest branch of Britain's Reserve Secret Service, the BRSS — really needed someone capable of handling technology since Agent #078 had moved to the HQ in Glasgow. And it was pure coincidence that this desperate need on our side coincided with Lex's desperate need to get a job.

Fate is a horrible cheat when it comes to poker.

Interestingly enough, all of us missed the Ace of Spades when it was first handed to us. Despite having been on and off the Most Wanted list for the past ten years, nobody really knew what Lex London looked like. So Lex Lestrade wasn't instantly in our field of suspicion — that is, until I started my weekly scour of suspects.

I, Jordan Rivers, am in charge of sweeping through this branch of the organisation on the lookout for traitors. Now I must admit, over the years I've only ever found one, so I may or may not have been slacking off a bit. Which is only helped by the fact that the BRSS has appointed a backup searcher, who's identity I don't know because it could hinder them in their job.

But even despite my slacking, I noticed that something was off about Lex.

First of all, I observed that he certainly didn't act desperate, but it radiated off him nonetheless to an expert like me. He needed a job, and fast. And now that he had one, he would do anything to keep it.

Secondly; I've seen him behind a laptop. His fingers fly over the keys so quickly you'd need a slow-motion camera to really see what he was doing. He spews out strings of code like it's nothing. Why would a guy like that have so much trouble getting a job?

And of course the way he floored George freaking Jackson without so much as a moment's hesitation was a bit of a giveaway.

Now I'll be honest with you again — my first conclusion was not Lex London. I suspected that he had some sort of dark history that stopped others employers from accepting him, and considered advising Mr Peak to fire him. After all, a spy in an organisation of spies would be disastrous.

But I chose not to, deciding instead to inform Mr Peak that I didn't trust him, and then resorting to observation.

I googled Lex Lestrade, and got no useful results. So I decided to resort to seeing how he would react to a threat.

By now you're probably all screaming "[insert slang exclamation of surprise] Joey, what the [modern swearword] are you doing? Of course it's Lex, wasn't that obvious?"

Well, no it wasn't. Like I said, nobody really knew what Lex London looked like. Besides that, he hadn't been on my top-list priority in a while, and wasn't exactly dominating my thoughts at the time. And next to all that comes that fact that after you've falsely accused three people called Lex of being Lex London, you kind of come to the conclusion that he must've changed his name. Because who in their right mind doesn't change their first name if they're undercover?

Lex, apparently.

So I hid a threat letter in his bag, knowing he'd find it. "I know who you are, bla bla bla" — all the usual. I knew — because I had deduced that he was desperate for a job — that he didn't have the amount of money I'd asked for, unless he had some sort of reserve after all. But I was counting on him to show up at the Highcrest Bridge nonetheless, even if only to find out who had written the letter.

I was right.

He kept his distance at first, eyeing the bridge from a hidden location. It was only at half past two that he finally became desperate enough to make his way to the small strip of shoreline under the bridge.

At first, I barely recognized him. He was wearing a black hoodie, with the hood pulled up over his characteristic wild hair. I tried to get closer, out of curiosity, and it was only then, when I saw him silhouetted against the river dressed in black, that I finally recognized him.

The irony — Lex London's identity was discovered the one time that he was trying to keep it hidden.

I didn't go any closer after that, of course, not wanting to risk revealing myself. I informed my superiors — and Red — and then backed away on orders from Mr Peak.

We knew the location — and identity — of the Ace of Spades. Now all that was left to do, was trump it.

And we did. Well, Officers London and White did, anyway. They got Lex into a containment van set for the HQ in Glasgow, which is where I'm heading to now personally as the person who discovered his identity. Red's coming too, because like me, she spent a lot of time around Lex while he worked at the British Reporters Sunday Standard. 

In about 48 hours, we'll be able to finally lock up the threat that is Lex London for good.

Such a pity really, I was starting to like him.