Two people sat across from each other in the bland office of the Royal and General Bank on Liverpool Street with only a bowl of peppermints on the desk between them. They had been staring at each other for the past ten minutes, neither backing down. As Mrs. Jones waited for her deputy to bring in the last guest for their meeting, she examined the boy in front of her and was surprised to see the changes that the last month and a half had wrought. The teen was calmer, physically fitter, and even more observant than the last time she had seen him. Even though they had been staring at each other, Mrs. Jones knew that the boy had taken in all of their surroundings, aware of everything at all times. It was in the way that his muscles tensed at the slightest sound, the slightest movement. But even more noticeable was the lack of questions. The boy had always been quiet but he never held back on questions, particularly when the espionage world came calling, so it was disconcerting to not hear anything for once. As soon as she had intercepted Alex when he came out of the showers at Brecon Beacons, he had followed her into the waiting helicopter, neither saying a word. They still hadn't said a word, even after the half hour flight back to London. The silence threw her off and Mrs. Jones had prolonged it by keeping quiet as well. Besides the unsuitability of discussing confidential information outside of her office, and without the deputy or their guest, she wanted to test the teen. To see how much silence Alex could take before his innate curiosity became too much. Judging by the silence, these past few weeks had taught him more control and patience. He hadn't even fidgeted. Then again, she didn't think that she had ever seen him fidget. It wasn't normal for a child to act this way. She found herself wondering, again, if she was making the right choice.
Alex had a good idea of what Mrs. Jones wanted when he walked out of the showers and saw the head of special operations waiting for him. Like he told the soldiers, he had already guessed the reason for pulling him out of training early. With that in mind, he kept silent the whole way back and was amused to see a flicker of confusion in the woman's eyes. Fleeting enough that Alex almost thought he imagined it. But still there. With the continued silence from both of them, Alex studied Mrs. Jones in return, trying to figure out what her motives were. Because Yassen was right. Everyone in the intelligence community was always plotting something. And if there was one thing he had learned about Blunt and Jones, it was that they never did anything without a reason. Most of the time, if not all, that reason played into a long range game filled with carefully calculated moves. Ones that were five steps, even ten steps, ahead of their allies and opponents. So, although Alex had an idea of what the woman wanted, he still had plenty of questions. Why was he pulled from the camp without the soldiers being informed? He grimaced inwardly at the thought of the welcome he would receive when he went back after the mission. Alex could already almost hear Wolf and the sergeant screaming at him, demanding answers. Why the continued silence? Normally, the woman would have attempted some small talk at least. Although, her confusion at his own silence might have prompted some sort of test to be thrown his way. What were they still waiting for? The silence, and their staring contest, had continued after reaching her office. And the thing that had been bothering him since the last time he had been in this office, why did she give him those files on K-Unit? Other than the surprise of receiving any information at all, there had been much more information than necessary in those files. They were a glimpse into each of the soldiers' minds. A look into everything that went on behind the scenes of a mission. Alex couldn't help but wonder what this sudden willingness to hand over information to him meant. He intended to find out something about Jones' agenda by the end of this meeting though.
Three sharp knocks on the door sounded before two men walked into the office, interrupting Alex and Mrs. Jones from their musings. Recognizing the limping, grey-haired man and remembering Jones' request to get along, Alex smiled and said, "Hello, Mr. Morris."
"Rider," Morris greeted stiffly, barely looking in Alex's direction, as the two men sat down.
"So this is Alex Rider," exclaimed the brawny man that Morris had brought, sizing Alex up. "He certainly doesn't look like much."
"Alex, this is Richard Barker, the head of MI5," Jones introduced, unwrapping a peppermint. "As he has requested your services, he will be your handler for this mission, should you accept."
"Mission handler?" Barker questioned disgustedly. "I'm the head of an intelligence agency. I don't monitor details every step of the way or coordinate logistics and communications for individual missions."
"That's fine," Alex said coolly, interrupting whatever Jones was going to say. He already didn't like this man's attitude. Barker seemed like the kind of arrogant man that overestimated their own value and underestimated everyone else's. "I don't need a mission handler anyways."
Morris glared at the teen. "Everyone needs a mission handler. It's a standard operating procedure. They're your link to the chain of command and a lifeline. It could save your life."
"Or get me killed," Alex countered blandly. This was the first time he was hearing of getting a proper mission handler. He supposed Blunt and Jones had kind of been his handlers but they never communicated beyond the mission briefing and debriefing. In between those, they certainly weren't of any help to him. Although he knew that communication with the intelligence agencies during the mission was important and had always wished for it, Alex wasn't comfortable with putting that communication in the hands of someone he didn't trust. He'd already been through that experience when he was partnered with Ash for his mission with ASIS. That had nearly resulted in having his eyes gouged out for sale on the black market.
"It doesn't matter," Jones cut in. "Mission handler or not, Richard will still be overseeing your mission in some capacity."
"You can't be serious!" Morris hissed furiously, an incredulous look on his face. "There needs to be a mission handler."
"Alex has proven successful without one," Jones said. "So if he doesn't want a mission handler, we won't give him one. He makes the decision."
Both men gave Jones bewildered looks. It seemed that the head of MI6's Special Operations division would be disregarding protocols when it came to the teen. Neither knew how to respond to this unfamiliar situation. Meanwhile, Alex took in their reactions with a smirk. It felt good to have his opinions considered in the decisions for once. Then, he studied Jones as another thought came to him. When he had offered to continue working for MI6, her condition had been that he was to follow standards and protocols. So why was she suddenly allowing him to make the decisions? He filed it away in his mind to examine some other time. For now, he broke the silence by asking, "So, what's the mission?"
Barker cleared his throat. "Your mission for us is simple - eliminate any threats to the Prime Minister's family."
"Bodyguard duty?" Alex asked with a raised eyebrow. "That's a new one."
"I'm sure you're aware that a new Prime Minister was elected a couple of months ago," Mrs. Jones said. "In an effort to build relationships and get to know his colleagues better, he has decided to host a Christmas gathering of British government officials at Downing Street for a full week, including Christmas Day. The family and friends of these government officials are invited as well to make the gathering more friendly and welcoming. Several activities have been planned to take place inside and outside of the building."
"The problem is that there is a huge security risk in having so many high-ranked people in one place, particularly when they are outside of the headquarters' walls," Barker continued. "It becomes even more dangerous because, according to intelligence reports that my agents have gathered, there is reason to believe that the Prime Minister and his family are being targeted by the Hunt Syndicate. However, we're still trying to figure out the motive."
"The Hunt Syndicate," Morris explained, "is one of London's major crime families. Not much is known about how they operate because they have managed to evade significant penetration from law enforcement in all the years they have been around. There are three things we do know though. The first is that the leader is David Hunt, known as Long Fella because of his height. The second is that their criminal activities include racketeering, drug trafficking, murder, extortion, bribery, pimping, bookmaking, money laundering, smuggling, fraud, arms trafficking, and theft. The third is that one of their major allies is the biggest criminal organization in London - the Clerkenwell Syndicate, otherwise known as the Adams family or the A-team."
"So what do you want me to do?" Alex asked, fully aware that the lack of information on the Hunt Syndicate made his mission much harder. With politics and two potential major criminal organizations being involved, it was definitely not a simple mission, no matter what Barker had told him.
At his question, Alex sensed a rapidly rising tension in the room. Barker glared at Jones as she explained, "Of course, the Prime Minister and his family already have tight security surrounding them but they are too conspicuous. That's where you come in. I'm sure you remember Sir Graham Adair, the Permanent Secretary to the Cabinet Office." Alex nodded. "He has agreed to bring you to the gathering as a guest. While you are there, your job is to befriend the Prime Minister's wife and daughter so you can watch over them and deal with any threats to their lives during this week. Will you accept this mission?"
The men each raised an eyebrow at her question. "You're giving him a choice?" Barker asked incredulously.
"Well, yes," Jones replied, turning her stony gaze towards the head of MI5. "As I'm sure you're aware, Alex is not actually employed by us so we cannot order him to do a mission."
"And when he is employed?" Morris questioned.
"We have already come to the understanding that he will have to follow orders and adhere to standards, procedures, and protocols," Jones answered. "However, as one of this country's most valuable agents, he will have some privileges, such as choosing some of the missions that he undertakes. Further details will be discussed when he signs the contract." Turning back to Alex and ignoring the glances that the men exchanged at her response, she asked again, "Do you accept this mission?"
Alex stayed silent as he regarded the three heads, deep in thought. Barker was clearly unhappy about the mission's plan. Alex didn't know how he felt about it. Unlike the Friend family from his second mission, at least the Adair family liked him. But the reason they did was because his father, John Rider, had saved their son's life on Albert Bridge. James Adair had even named his own son after Alex's father. Knowing all this history between their families, Alex wasn't sure if he was ready to face the Adairs again. It didn't matter how he felt though. If he accepted the mission, it seemed that everything had already been arranged for him to get started. Alex would be spending a whole week with the Adair family in order to get close to the Prime Minister's wife and daughter. Finally, he said, "I accept. Is there anything else I should know?"
"Not really," Barker answered with a hint of relief in his voice, straightening his suit as he got up from his seat. "MI6 will be providing you with the equipment you need, along with the files we have on both criminal organizations and a blueprint of Downing Street. I'll leave you to it. Nice meeting you, Rider."
With that, Barker walked out, not even bothering to say goodbye to the two heads of Special Operations. Silence followed as Mrs. Jones waited until she was sure that Barker wouldn't be eavesdropping. After a few minutes, Alex saw fleeting hesitation in Jones' eyes, filled with worry and indecision. Then, she wiped all emotion from her face. "What are you keeping from me, Mrs. Jones?" The woman stayed silent with her blank expression, mind racing as she considered how much information to reveal. "Tulip," Alex prodded deliberately in warning.
Mrs. Jones stiffened and huffed out in annoyance, "Don't call me that."
"Then, tell me what it is," Alex simply said, enjoying the fact that he had managed to annoy her for once. And judging by Morris' wide eyes, that was no easy task. Of course, what he didn't know was that, besides the uncharacteristic show of emotion, Morris was also hearing the woman's given name for the first time. No one, except for Alex and Blunt, had known that piece of information.
Jones examined Alex, causing them to enter into another staring contest. This one was a test of wills, each of them determined to make the other give in. Eventually, Jones broke eye contact and sighed, putting another peppermint into her mouth. "There are two things that make your mission more complicated. Because of the lack of information about the Hunt Syndicate, Barker wanted you to infiltrate the organization itself. He's bitter that I insisted on putting you among the government instead. In fact, I made it a condition of lending your services out to him."
So that was where the tension came from, Alex thought. He didn't know which method of getting the mission done was worse. But either way, he knew enough about intelligence agencies to guess that Jones would want him to find out more about the inner workings of the Hunt Syndicate if the chance presented itself. The question was why she was so insistent on protecting the Prime Minister's family by close proximity instead of taking down the plot from the inside. As Jones and Morris waited for some sort of response from him, Alex continued to steadily gaze back at the woman and turned over all of the information he had so far in his mind. To be safe, he knew he had to think beyond just this mission. After awhile, he asked, "Does the current Prime Minister know about me?"
"No."
Interesting. Especially considering the circumstances surrounding the demise of Blunt's career within MI6. Another moment passed. Then, Alex stated, "You turned down BND's request for this. Why?"
"It was better suited to you," Jones answered, repeating her reasoning from his last mission debriefing.
"I'm hardly trained for close protection work," Alex countered dryly.
"I'm sure you can handle it."
"It's not my skills that makes this mission better suited to me, is it?" Alex asked, realization dawning on his face.
"What do you mean?" Morris cautiously joined into the conversation. He had been watching the teen's interactions with his boss, baffled by what he was seeing. He wasn't even sure which one of them was in charge at the moment. The informal way that the teen addressed the head of special operations showed a blatant lack of professional respect, a disregard for the chain of command that he had never seen in an MI6 agent before. Then, there was the way that Jones had conceded to the teen and followed his lead as she answered his, seemingly unrelated, questions.
Both pairs of eyes flicked towards Morris at his question before promptly returning back to assessing each other. As an indirect answer to Morris' question, Alex speculated out loud. "The last Prime Minister forced Mr. Blunt to resign after finding out about me working for MI6. To keep your job, you want to control how, and when, I show up on the current Prime Minister's radar, manipulating him into being on board with my employment as early as possible. That's why you want me near the Prime Minister for this mission and why it's more important than the mission for BND, isn't it? And then, the cherry on top is that MI5 will owe us a favour. Did I miss anything?"
A look of understanding flickered across Morris' face as Alex finished up his theory, making Alex realize that Jones and Morris weren't on the same page like Blunt and Jones had been. He filed that piece of information away in his mind for later too, turning his attention back to the woman.
As Jones sat back, still studying the teen in front of her, she wondered why she still bothered to hold expectations that allowed the teen to surprise her anymore. In the past, she and Blunt had overwhelmed the boy with information and conveyed barely veiled threats to get him to agree to anything. They had never given the teen enough time to think about the situations. Now, she was really regretting the way that they had handled the boy. When she had finished talking about Barker's intentions, she had deliberately paused to test the teen's reactions to the news. She had expected an outburst of adamant refusal to make sure he never went anywhere near the Hunt Syndicate. But that was not what she had gotten.
Although Alex didn't know it, he had just given her the best reaction she could have hoped for. In this moment, Alex had identified himself as one of them and shown how insightful he could be about the situation when he was given the time to think. The teen was definitely in the right career. His potential was beyond her wildest expectations, Jones thought. Finally, she told him with a hint of pride in her voice, "Very good, Alex. However, you are overlooking one thing." She paused, neither she or Alex missing the surprised, wide-eyed expression that Morris was giving them. Alex gestured for her to go on.
Complying, Jones explained, "When you gave us the report on Desmond McCain's plan to poison all of the wheat crops in Kenya, we immediately took it to the Prime Minister at the time. Apart from an issue with your age, he had no reason to trust anything that you said. Even after we gave him a version of your file, it wasn't enough. He couldn't be certain that your information was good. It was incredibly difficult to get him to do what we wanted. Of course, it didn't help that his advisers were present for the briefing. Those two were more focused on sabotaging each other than anything else. All the same, I want you to gain the current Prime Minister's trust so that anything involving you will go much more smoothly than the mess with Desmond McCain. Considering your track record for ending up in the most unbelievable situations, we'll need that trust to get anything done."
"Alright, I'll do what I can," Alex agreed. "But I'm not that bad!"
"You ended up in outer space," Jones said, giving him a pointed look.
"That... does sound insane," Alex admitted. "What's the second thing that makes this mission more complicated?"
"Cameron and Sahara Sands," Jones answered.
Alex frowned. "What do they have to do with this?"
Jones hesitated, taking another peppermint from her bowl. "They will be guests of the Prime Minister and his family."
Morris frowned, creasing his forehead in confusion while Alex groaned inwardly. Sahara Sands was a girl that he had met two years ago on a Christmas vacation with Ian in Colorado. Her father, Cameron Sands, was an American government official who never went anywhere without his laptop. The device must have contained important information because someone had wanted it badly enough to kidnap Sahara to get it. Alex had waited for the exchange to finish before skiing down at a breakneck pace and snatching the laptop from the kidnappers' hands. Then, he had stalled for time until Ian came to rescue him from the pursuit that followed. He hadn't seen the Sands after that. Never even said goodbye. Depending on Sahara's reaction to seeing him again, it could either make it easier or harder to get close to the Prime Minister's daughter. He sighed. "How much do they know?"
"Nothing," Jones said. "To them, you and Ian were just brave tourists who helped them out of an unfortunate situation."
"Hold on!" Morris interrupted. "You're saying that Ian took you on his missions before you even knew about all of this?"
"Yes."
Morris stared. "That's not right. You should never have been involved."
"I didn't want to be," Alex argued. "But I was. And there's no turning back now."
Morris stayed silent for a long moment. "Neither John or Ian would have wanted you to follow in their footsteps this soon."
"You knew my father and uncle?" Alex asked.
Morris nodded. "I've worked with both of them many times. They're fiercely protective of their families and would have wanted you to be of age before letting you know about any of this business." He paused and gave Alex a wistful smile. "Although, watching you at work today, figuring out how everything is connected... It showed me that you're capable enough to do this job, even if you are still a child. John and Ian would be proud."
Alex nodded, not sure how to respond to that statement.
Running a hand through his hair, Morris sighed. "This isn't right, but I can see that you aren't leaving this line of work anytime soon. I suppose we can look forward to working together."
Alex nodded again, smiling inwardly at the man's less hostile attitude and noting the approval in Jones' eyes. "Yes, I suppose we can."
"Good." Handing Alex the files in his hand, Morris instructed briskly, "Read these."
Alex took the files and did as he was told, reading the information they had on the two criminal organizations and memorizing the blueprints of Downing Street. It took a couple of hours to get through everything, Alex asking questions once in a while. By the time he was done, there was a crick in his neck from bending over the files and he handed everything back to Morris as Jones said, "Go back to your house to retrieve that iPhone and bring it to Smithers. He'll do some updates on it and give you some things. I suggest you use the rest of the day to prepare. At 1800 hours, a driver will meet you at the entrance and take you to the Adair residence tonight."
Alex nodded to each of the heads and left the office. Taking the tube back to Chelsea, he soon found himself walking down the street towards his house. It was quiet out, the city just starting to wake from its slumber, and no one saw Alex stiffen as he noticed that one of Jack's flowerpots was out of place. Quickly creeping around the perimeters of his house with the neighbours' vehicles and bushes as cover, he kept an eye out for any unusual movements. Alex knew he was being paranoid. Some Girl Scout hoping to sell cookies could have accidentally shifted the flowerpot on her way to the doorbell. Even a curious dog could have done it. But considering his life, he thought it was better to be safe than sorry. After a few moments of observing the place, Alex was satisfied that no one was currently occupying his house. Still, he cautiously opened the door and stepped inside.
Immediately, his sharp eyes picked up on the large footprint marring his rug, certain places where the dust had been disturbed, and a mug that he had definitely not left by the sink the last time he had been here. Silently, Alex checked every room on the ground floor to make sure they were clear. Then, he went upstairs to do the same. It was only when he reached Ian's office that he realized what had happened while he was gone. Alex stared at the open card sitting on the desk before him as Smithers' voice boomed out.
"Alex, old chap! Good to see you've survived training so far! This card has been made to activate upon recognizing your face. I made some security upgrades to your house while you were gone. Your doorbell is now fingerprint sensitive so you can only get into the house by pressing it before you use the key. If you're in a hurry or don't have your key, ring the doorbell three times to get in! Any visitors you get will also have their fingerprints scanned and sent to your iPhone for identification. Moving on, this office has been soundproofed like you requested and the office door will require a retina scan to get in. That's all for now, my dear boy!" The recording paused for a moment. "Also, this card will self-destruct in five seconds!"
Sure enough, the card went up in flames at the specified time. Alex smiled at the man's familiar methods, sweeping the ashes into the waste bin. Leaning back into the office chair behind the desk and spinning it slightly from side to side, he looked over the rest of the room to see what else MI6 had put in. There were filing cabinets lining the wall to his left and bookcases lining the wall to his right. In front of the desk were two leather chairs. Behind the chairs, a sofa sat against the wall in front of him. He wondered if this was what the office looked like when Ian had used it. Idly, Alex opened up one of the desk drawers, finding the keys to the drawers and filing cabinets. Getting up from the chair, he left the office and heard the door automatically lock behind him as he headed to his room. Alex checked the time and sighed as he realized that he had been here longer than he had intended. Quickly, he turned towards his closet and dug the legal documents and phones out from the pile of junk he had hid them under. He made his way back to the office and stood in front of the door, letting it scan his retina before pushing it open. Alex dumped the documents in a filing cabinet, put Yassen's phone in one of the desk drawers, and his personal phone in the drawer below it. He locked everything up in the office and left the house with Smithers' iPhone.
The ride back to the Royal & General was a little livelier as Alex watched the people around him hurry along. Perhaps to a Sunday brunch or a day at the park. His stomach grumbled at the thought of food. He hadn't eaten since yesterday evening and it was nearing lunch time now. Getting off the tube, Alex walked back into the bank where the receptionist directed him to the lift. The second the doors closed, the lift started moving towards the eleventh floor before Alex could press the button. Shrugging, he got off at his stop and made his way to the gadget master's office, knocking twice on the open door.
"Alex, dear boy! Come in! Door!" The door swung shut behind Alex and he sat down on the chair in front of Smithers' desk. "Now, I hear that you're going to be working with MI5. Our domestic counterparts are usually quite useless, if you ask me. I wouldn't trust their information or judgements much. But, no matter! I'll have you fitted out with enough gadgets to deal with anything that comes your way! Did you bring your iPhone?"
Alex nodded and slid the device over to the man, taking the five tranquilizer darts that were offered to him at the same time. "What kind of updates are you doing on it?"
"I've got quite a few things planned," Smithers beamed. "This is your work phone now so you should be carrying it at all times. At school, within reach at home, even into space! Although, I have to say that I never expected you to actually end up in space."
"Neither did I," Alex admitted. "Our prediction skills would have to be out of this world to anticipate that."
"Quite!" Smithers chuckled, putting three more darts into the phone and plugging the device into the computer before typing out some commands. "Now, these system updates are very versatile for you to use. In fact, I have just added another operating system in this device. One system has all the capabilities of a normal iPhone. That is the cover system. It is whatever you want other people to see."
Smithers unplugged the phone and slid it towards Alex. "But press and hold the home button for seven seconds." He followed the man's instructions and was surprised to see the whole display on the screen change. "That is MI6's system, pushed behind the cover system and hidden from everyone else. I've been working on this operating system since your first mission! I'm quite pleased with the result and you're the first person to use it! The home button is fingerprint sensitive and will unlock the device like other iPhones but only your prints can switch between the systems."
Alex spent the next half an hour learning how to use the MI6 system. With Smithers' guidance, he discovered how to search the mobile version of the MI6 database with his clearance level, use the map function to find his current location and look up the blueprints to any building in the database to help with navigation, and create different profiles for the cover system to display. The default profile was the one he would use the most. It was for times when he wasn't on a mission or when the mission required him to act as his civilian self like his current one did. Once the profile was set up in the MI6 system, the cover system would display a whole history of applications and activity to match the profile so that anyone looking at his phone would find nothing out of the ordinary.
"And before I forget! There's a couple more things about the phone. I've taken the liberty of putting in some contacts for you. I would recommend that you memorize the numbers in case you can't access this phone. Anyways, speed dial one will connect you to Mrs. Jones directly. Two will ring Mr. Morris. Three will put you in touch with me. And I understand that Joe Byrne gave you his direct line as well so that's speed dial four." Smithers paused and leaned in towards Alex, lowering his voice and giving him a pointed look, like he was sharing a secret. "Lastly, Ben Daniels wanted you to have a way of contacting him so that's speed dial five. He has your number too."
Alex raised an eyebrow in surprise at this new information. "Ben wanted to keep in touch?"
"Of course, old chap! He cares about you, you know."
"But we've only worked together twice!" Alex exclaimed, nonplussed.
"Must be the Rider charm!" Smithers declared cheerfully before moving on. "Now, these speed dial numbers and the functions from your time in Berlin will work in both operating systems. Any calls you make or messages you send will be untraceable, except by us, and any communications with us won't show up in the cover system's history."
Alex nodded and pocketed the phone once again. "Do you have anything else for me?"
"As a matter of fact, I do!" Smithers got up and lumbered over to a shelf. The man came back with a suitcase, gesturing for him to open it. Once he did, Alex saw a watch sitting on top of neatly folded clothes. There were several sets of jumpers, button down shirts, and trousers. A couple of dark suits were included, along with dress shoes. This was the wardrobe that a politician's son might have which was quite fitting for the next week that he would be at Downing Street. The only thing that didn't fit in with that image was the t-shirt and shorts for him to sleep in. It couldn't be a coincidence and it was a little unsettling to know that MI6 had even paid attention to the fact that he never wore pajamas, preferring to sleep in a t-shirt and shorts.
Done looking everything over, Alex paid attention to Smithers' explanation. "The watch has several useful features besides telling time. It hides some tools that make it somewhat like a Swiss army knife! Pressing the top left button will let you access the lock picks, diamond-edged blade, and flashlight. If you want to send a distress signal and activate the tracker, set the hour and minute hands to twelve and then press the top right button three times! Also, the watch is connected to the suitcase and all of these bulletproof clothes. It will vibrate to alert you every single time the suitcase is opened so you know when someone is going through your stuff! On the shirts, the top button is a smoke bomb and the bottom one is an explosive. They will only activate when they are disconnected from the shirt and you press the top right button on your watch twice. The bottom buttons are powerful enough to take out a small chunk of a door or a person's hand. Both types have a five second fuse so make sure you get out of range in that time! That's all for now, old chap!"
"Thanks, Mr. Smithers!" Alex said warmly, closing the suitcase and grabbing the handles as he got up.
"Anytime, m'boy! Don't do anything foolish and try to stay alive! You can come around for tea someday after your mission. I still have to make that up to you from last time!"
"I'll call to check if you or your hologram are in the country," Alex replied dryly as he left the office.
Smithers watched him leave, dropping the cheerful personality as soon as the door closed behind the boy and ran a hand through his hair. He worried about the teenager but wasn't about to let Alex see that. The child had been used in a horrifying manner and no one had been able to put a stop to it. All he could do was keep working on new gadgets for the boy, regardless of whether or not there was a mission in the works. It became something of an obsession for him, working endlessly on new designs for Alex and testing them much more thoroughly than he did for the other agents' stuff. He needed to be 200% sure that everything he gave the boy worked. Because that was the best he could do in his position to help the teen survive in a world that the boy should never have been involved in. At least, not at this age. And not as a result of blackmail. Even then, he never knew if he gave the boy the right tools. Every time the teen was on a mission, it was like he couldn't breathe until the latest disaster was stopped and he knew that Alex was still alive at the end of it.
A few months ago, after everything in Egypt, there had been hope that the last of the Rider family would lead a normal life. True, the boy had lost everything and would carry the mental and physical scars for the rest of his life. But there was a chance to be normal, away from the intelligence world. Disgusted with the kind of people he worked for, the kind that would use a fourteen year old as a weapon, he had even made plans to retire. It made him feel ill that he was a part of ruining the boy's life and there was no point in staying with MI6 when the boy had managed to get out of the game, leaving him with no one else he wanted to protect that badly. Even as he was making plans, he had only stayed because he knew the Rider family and their luck.
John Rider had gotten out of deep cover and was promptly pulled back in for one last mission, only to be assassinated along with his wife a few months later by one of his best friends. Yes, he knew that Ash had betrayed the Riders. ASIS had been kind enough to share with MI6 the results of the mission Alex did for them. His heart ached for the betrayal that Alex had experienced on that assignment.
Ian Rider had gotten out of his mission in Cornwall, was so close to coming back home with the information they were looking for and coming back to Alex, but was assassinated by Yassen Gregorovich. Dead by the hand of John Rider's apprentice.
So, yes, he had stayed for a while. A year or two was his plan. Just in case the Rider luck got to Alex and pulled the boy back into the intelligence world. And it, perhaps inevitably, had done just that. Smithers heaved a sigh and went back to his work, vowing to keep doing everything he could to help Alex survive. He was not retiring until the teen did. And if the boy didn't retire, then he would keep making gadgets until he died. Smithers didn't think he could handle it if he outlived Alex and refused to even entertain the possibility.