Alex groaned as the sound of a phone ringing woke him up. Rolling over to look at the clock, he was surprised to see that it was nine o'clock on a Saturday morning. He had gotten a full eight hours of sleep, the first in a long time. It seemed that the meditation had helped a lot. He still had nightmares that left him covered in sweat but it wasn't bad enough to wake him up and send him retching into the toilet anymore. Rolling onto his back again, he ignored the ringing phone, thinking that Jack would get it. Then, he froze and his heart clenched painfully as he remembered that Jack wasn't around anymore. Sighing, he got up, blinked away the last remnants of sleep from his bleary eyes, and padded downstairs to answer the phone.
"Hello?"
"Your presence is requested at the Royal and General Bank to discuss your account," a female voice said emotionlessly on the phone.
"I'll be there."
The dial tone was all that could be heard as soon as Alex finished his reply. He stared at the phone, slowly putting it back in its place. Typical intelligence agencies, Alex thought. They never bothered with niceties. It had only been three days since his meeting with Jones. He wondered what he was being called in for this time. Shrugging, he went upstairs to do his meditations before getting ready for the day. He would find out what Jones wanted when he got to the bank.
A couple of hours later, he found himself being led by Morris, in stony silence, to Jones' office. Morris clearly didn't like his presence and that was fine with him. Alex knew Jones wanted him to convince the man to accept him but he just couldn't be bothered at the moment. In any case, he didn't know how to do that yet. Rapping sharply on Jones' door, Morris opened it without waiting for a reply and gestured for him to go in. The door closed behind him, leaving Alex alone with the head of MI6.
"Alex, take a seat," Jones said. As he sat down, Jones pushed an envelope towards him. "These are the documents for your legal emancipation. Now that you are no longer MI6's ward, the documents for the trust fund that Ian left for you is also included. You have full access to it. In addition, the Rider family has always made investments and owned several properties. Those are also yours now. The documents in there will detail everything."
Alex looked at Jones in surprise. He had known about the trust fund but this was the first time he was hearing about the investments and properties. Slowly taking the documents out of the envelope, he flicked through them. Apparently, there were mutual funds portfolios in England, France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Japan, and the United States. The properties were in the same countries and most of them looked like safehouses. All of these countries were ones where Alex could speak their language with some degree of proficiency, if not speaking like a native. Looking up at Jones again, he asked, "How many people knew about the investments and properties?"
"Only Alan and myself."
At least the safehouses were unlikely to be compromised. Alex sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He would have to add learning to manage these assets to his list of things to do. "Do you know where I can find someone to help me make sense of all this?"
"We can find someone to teach you." She paused. "Actually, this would be beneficial for us too. As our cover is a bank, the knowledge would make your eventual cover as an overseas finance manager more believable."
Alex nodded. That was one thing he didn't have to worry about then. It made sense and he would have been surprised if Jones didn't have an ulterior motive for helping him with his newly acquired finances. He wondered if Ian had ever taken financial management courses.
"There is something else," Jones continued. "In order to meet your terms for training before your next mission, you will start in a couple of days. For security reasons, I want the knowledge of your involvement with us to be kept to as few people as possible. K-Unit is back from Baghdad and their rest period is nearly over. They will be at Brecon Beacons for one month doing a refresher course. You will be joining them for training."
"What about school?" Alex asked. He hadn't expected training to come up quite so soon, especially since this would make him fall further behind in his classes. He had missed the last month of his Year 10 studies in England and had only attended a month of classes in America. In England, it was already nearing the autumn half term break. Even now, there would be a lot to catch up on when he went back to classes at Brookland Comprehensive School to start his Year 11.
"A tutor will be sent to Brecon Beacons to help you catch up on your regular studies as well as giving you extra lessons that will be useful in this line of work. You should be caught up by the time you return to school in January for the start of spring term."
Alex raised an eyebrow. The last part told him all he needed to know about Jones' plans for him for the next two months. Either he would be training extensively or he would be on a mission. Or both. He wasn't looking forward to his reunion with K-Unit. Their reaction to him staying with them for eleven days of SAS training last time was bad enough. If he was going to be spending two months with them, then he needed to mentally prepare himself. "Anything I should know before going to Brecon Beacons?"
Jones considered him for a moment before saying, "I noticed your uncertainty when you mentioned your involvement with SCORPIA during the debriefing. If you are questioned about the Invisible Sword incident, you should use the cover that Alan gave you. In fact, no one at the camp is to know the details of any of your missions." She opened her top drawer and drew out a thin file, pushing it towards him. "This is a heavily edited version of your file. It will be read by the sergeant and your unit. I want you to go through it and see if there is anything else you would like to remove before I send it over to Brecon Beacons. While they read your file, you will also be reading K-Unit's."
Alex pulled it towards him, curious as to what his file contained, and stared. He could see why no one was to know much about him. Without seeing his full file, he already knew there was a lot of information missing. Still, he went through it thoroughly, picking up a pen on the desk and crossed out some more things. When he was finished, he handed it back to Jones.
Accepting the file, Jones said, "A car will be sent to take you to Brecon Beacons. Tell the driver 'it's a fine day to go for a run'. If he responds with 'I'd rather go for swim', you can get in. Any other response, then you need to alert us and get out of there. Be ready at 0800 hours on Monday."
Recognizing the dismissal, Alex nodded and got to his feet. He left without a backward glance, already making a mental list of things he needed to do before he resumed SAS training. Among these things was a visit to a certain small boy with spiky, black hair and blue eyes. The boy, Tom Harris, was one of his best friends and the only person at school who knew about Alex's involvement with MI6. His friend deserved to know what was going on. He was going to talk to him at school on Monday but that wouldn't be possible anymore. Taking the familiar route to Tom's house, he hoped that it wasn't a bad time to go calling. The last he heard was that Tom was living with his mother after his father walked out. Tom's parents had been going through a messy divorce and after being away for so long, Alex had no idea what the current situation was. As he reached the house, Alex paused, suddenly nervous about seeing his friend. They hadn't had any contact for almost four months now. He wondered if Tom would be mad at him. The boy had good reason to be. Pulling himself together, Alex raised a hand and rang the doorbell.
It only took a moment for the door to open. The boy stared in shock. Then, his face morphed into anger. "What the hell, Alex?! The last time I saw you, the school was being shot at and I had a bullet go through my arm! A month later, we were told that you were moving to America! I don't even get a text to tell me you're back in the country?!" He paused. And then, "How long have you been back?!"
"Sorry, Tom," Alex winced, knowing how bad of a friend he had been since Ian's death. "Things were...," he struggled to come up with an accurate description that would tell his friend there was a good reason without letting eavesdroppers know about his secret life. He finally settled on, "A lot worse than usual."
Understanding that it had something to do with MI6, Tom suddenly deflated and waved Alex inside. Once the door was closed, he said, "Alright, you can talk. My mom is out so we're alone right now."
Alex nodded, glad that his best friend understood him enough to know he wasn't going to talk where anyone could eavesdrop on their conversation. As they went upstairs to Tom's messy bedroom, Alex explained emotionlessly, "I was sent to Cairo and Jack went with me. Blunt didn't tell us that SCORPIA was involved. None of us, not even Blunt, knew it was a setup from the start. SCORPIA already had my location and undercover details. In the end, Jack was blown up, trying to find a way to get both of us out of SCORPIA's grasp. They made me watch."
Tom stayed silent throughout the explanation. When Alex mentioned SCORPIA, he went pale and wanted to curse out everyone that had dragged his friend into that world but he held his tongue to listen to the rest of it. Just as he thought it couldn't get worse, he was told that his best friend had been forced to watch as his guardian, best friend, and sister was murdered. He had only met Jack a few times but he knew the cheerful American had meant the world to Alex. Tom had liked the fiery red headed woman as well. The few times that he had met Jack, she had let him stay the night when his parents' fights had gotten too bad and cared for him like an older sister. He couldn't stay mad at his best friend for this.
"Are you okay?" Tom asked, not knowing how else to gauge his friend's mental state.
Nodding, Alex said, "The Pleasures became my guardians. That's why I moved to America. Even though they weren't prepared to deal with my problems, they've helped me to heal a lot."
"Where are they now?"
"Still in America," Alex answered with a sad smile on his face. "They're better off without me. A few weeks ago, there was a threat on my life as well as theirs. Because of this, I had Mrs. Jones send an agent to tail you while I went on another mission. I got back from that a week and a half ago and decided that I'm going to continue working for MI6."
Tom stared at Alex, then shrugged. If his friend thought he could do it, he would support the decision. Besides, if there was anyone their age that could handle the stress of that world, it was Alex. Brightening, Tom said cheerfully, "So, I'll see you on Monday then? We've only got a week until autumn half term starts. I can't wait to see the school's reaction to your return!"
Alex laughed and shook his head. He was amazed that, just like that, they were on good terms again and his resolve to keep Tom at a distance for safety's sake melted away. "Sorry, Tom. I start SAS training again on Monday. I won't be back until spring term starts."
Tom looked crestfallen at this news. "Aww... I was so looking forward to having you around again!"
"I promise I'll be there in January," Alex said solemnly.
"I'm holding you to that!" Tom paused, a thought just occurring to him. "Wait, you said there was an agent following me? How come I never noticed?"
Alex laughed. "They're spies for a reason."
"Well, Mr. Teenage Spy, let's see if you can avoid the girls at school who have a thing for your bad boy image!"
This made Alex stop short. He knew there were a couple of girls like that but something about the way Tom said it had made it seem like there were more now. Frowning, he asked, "When did that happen?"
Tom shrugged. "After your warning saved everyone at school from being shot. Anyways, you won't believe some of the rumours that are still going on about you..."
And so Tom started to recount all of the gossip at school that had happened while he was gone as they played video games. Most of the rumours were just good for a laugh but there were the occasional ones that were interesting or outright bizarre. After going through the gossip, Tom started complaining about his parents' petty fights whenever they had to be in the same room to finalize divorce details and being behind in the homework that he never really did anyway. It was a good few hours to unwind that Alex hadn't even realized he needed. He felt much lighter by the time he left to go home for dinner.
The next day, Alex was dragged out of bed at seven o'clock in the morning by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Groggily making his way downstairs, he grumbled to himself about how it was too early in the morning for this. Alex stiffened when he opened the door and was suddenly much more alert. A man with thinning hair and old-fashioned clothes stood before him, along with several other people grouped behind him.
"Mr. Crawley, I don't think now is the time for a party," Alex said in a deadpan voice.
The man smiled blandly. It still reminded Alex of a snake poised to strike. "Of course not, Alex. Mrs. Jones wanted the security system reinstalled today." Gesturing to the doorway, he asked, "Would you mind letting us in?"
Alex stood aside wordlessly, letting them pass before closing the door again. Crawley stood off to the side with Alex, watching the group of people bustle around. The efficiency reminded Alex of an anthill, where everyone had a role and knew what they were doing. After a few minutes, Alex asked, "What exactly is being installed?"
"Just the usual," Crawley assured him. "Mostly outside cameras and detectors. There are detectors for motion, doors and windows, glass break, smoke, carbon monoxide, and various other poisonous gases. Any alarms that go off will alert our company. We're also switching out your windows for bulletproof ones."
Alex stared. It sounded like he wouldn't be able to sneeze without Mrs. Jones knowing about it. "Are you going to put cameras in the bathrooms too?" Alex asked sarcastically.
"That depends on what Mrs. Jones wants."
Ignoring the implications of that statement, Alex commented, "They're paying a lot of attention to Ian's office." Old office, he corrected himself.
"Yes, that office will be yours now. As you will be dealing with sensitive information, it needs to have better security than the rest of the house."
Nodding, Alex walked off to make breakfast. It seemed that they would be here for awhile. And he was right. They only finished installing everything after he had had breakfast, did his meditations, and sorted through perishable foods that he would donate later in the day. He left the frozen and canned foods for when he got back from wherever Jones was sending him for two months. Just as Crawley and his people were about to leave, a thought occurred to Alex. "Can the office be soundproofed?"
"It can," Crawley answered. "Mrs. Jones would have to approve it but I can ask her."
Satisfied with the answer for now, he thanked the man. There was so much security in place, MI6 would be tracking his movements just as much as any intruders. A soundproofed office would at least provide Alex a little bit of privacy.
"Goodbye, Alex. I look forward to working with you," Crawley said. And then he walked out the door, leaving Alex alone again in the silent, empty house.
With everyone out, Alex examined the house to see the exact locations of what had been added. He discovered that the agents had done a very thorough job of warding the house against intruders. It still wasn't good enough to keep one of the world's top assassins out though. That was a shame. He didn't want to wake up to another gun pointed at him for the sole purpose of talking.
After examining the house, Alex had a quick lunch and then donated his perishable food to the homeless shelter. On his way, he could spot a different agent that Jones had sent to tail him. It looks like this one wasn't competent enough either. He took photos of the agent but otherwise ignored his tail.
Continuing to make his preparations for Brecon Beacons, his next destination was the barber's shop. Alex's hair had grown out and was starting to obscure his vision. Even if he wasn't going to be training with the SAS, he would still have needed a haircut. His upcoming training just meant that he got a military buzz cut instead of just a trimming. With all the mud in the Welsh Beacons, he would have had trouble keeping his hair clean with any other haircut. Besides that, the sergeant was sure to scream at him and assign punishment duty for having hair that was too long. Alex would take the odd look the barber had given him when he requested the military cut over a screaming drill sergeant any day.
Paying for the haircut, Alex thanked the barber and headed home to pack a duffle bag for the next day. He wouldn't need much. A uniform would be provided for him, along with combat boots, so he only packed a change of clothes, underwear, and socks. Other than that, toiletries and a lock were the only other things to go into the bag.
Finished with his preparations, Alex settled down on the couch for the rest of the day to study the legal documents Jones had given him. The legal emancipation documents were fairly straight forward. With the exception of voting and driving before the legal age, he had full legal rights in everything else. The investments and properties documents were not so clear. His cursory glance in Jones' office only gave him a very broad view of what he owned. Now, as he was reading the details, Alex found that there were some mutual funds portfolios that had been passed down through multiple generations. The same could be said for the properties. In fact, there seemed to be a tradition where each generation would add at least one mutual fund portfolio and one property to the family's assets to pass down. Suddenly, Alex remembered something that Jones had told him. The Rider family has always made investments and owned several properties. Those were her words. At the time, he had sensed something odd about the words but was too surprised to fully process it yet. These documents confirmed her hint that it wasn't just his father and uncle that had done it. That previous generations had too. The question was why? Were they spies too? Or just people trying to build their wealth? His uncle had never mentioned anything about his relatives. He didn't even know if he had any cousins. He made a mental note to look into his family history. Maybe Yassen would know something. Speaking of the assassin, he should probably let the man know that it would be difficult to reach him for the next two months. He wasn't keen on finding out what his punishment would be if the man tried to contact him and received no response.
Yawning, Alex realized how late it was and hid the documents under a pile of junk in his closet before getting ready for bed. He knew he should put the documents in a safer place but there wasn't anywhere like that in the house. The office wasn't ready yet as MI6 had stripped everything from it when Ian had died, including the desk. He would have to get another one when he returned, Alex thought as he took out the phone Yassen had given him. He paused, wondering if he would be interrupting something important. Like an assignment that would get the man killed if he was distracted. He shrugged to himself. If the assassin was in the middle of something, he'd make sure there were no possible distractions. Yassen wouldn't have survived as long as he did if he were that careless. After a minute of deciding what to say, he texted the assassin.
Going camping for a couple of months.
Nearly six thousand miles away, a phone vibrated in a hotel room. Yassen looked at the message with an almost imperceptible downturn of his lips. The teen had barely been given any down time and it seemed that he was being sent off again. The standard for anyone in their world was at least two weeks of vacation between missions that took more than three days. Longer if they were high level ones like the boy had been consistently involved in. If there was a gunshot wound, the standard was three months of vacation and then light active duty for another three months before being fully back in the game. Even criminal organizations like SCORPIA followed this practice. Alex might not want to train as an assassin but Yassen strengthened his resolve to teach him to be one anyways. Even if the teen wasn't going to pursue an assassination career, it made him feel better to know that the training would give him the choice should the situation with the intelligence agencies get bad enough. Besides, the knowledge of the illegal side of things would help the teen develop the instincts needed to thrive, no matter which side of the law he chose to operate on. Scanning the message again, he texted Alex back.
Don't let the wolves bite.
Alex smirked as he read the message. That was one way of describing the intelligence agencies. Although, there was a particular wolf that he would have to watch out for in the immediate future. He wondered if Yassen knew about that one. Or how much the man knew about his connections in this world in general. He would have to ask in person the next time they met.
They won't if they know what's good for them.
Yassen nodded to himself, reassured that the kid wasn't going to submit to the whims of the governments around the world. Even after all he'd been through, Alex still had some fight left in him. There was never any doubt that the boy could take care of himself. He was counting on it. For both of their sakes. It would make the plans he had recently formed go a lot smoother. Everything depended on the boy.
Don't do anything rash.
Alex looked at the message and stared. Was Yassen trying to be parental? He snorted at the mental image of the assassin taking care of a kid. The man might have some personal code of honour that prevents him from killing children by his own hand in cold blood but that didn't mean he was capable of looking after a kid.
I won't.
Knowing their conversation was over for now, Alex hid the phone and set his alarm for 5:00 tomorrow. He fell asleep thinking it would be a long two months.