A gentle knock on the mahogany door sounded, making Alex pause in the middle of his two hundredth press-up. He had woken up a couple of hours ago in the middle of a spacious guest bedroom, surrounded by sheets that were too soft and too silky on an unfamiliar queen-sized bed. The room that Sir Graham had put him in last night was comfortable, but too luxurious for his tastes. Even though Alex had slept soundly until the nightmares had caught up with him, the sharp contrast of his current room in comparison to K-Unit's hut at Brecon Beacons put him slightly on edge. It was like the more comfortable the accommodations outside of his own home, the more he expected something to happen. He supposed that, along with his nightmares, was why he had woken before dawn. Although, his biological clock was probably used to the military routine too. Since he was awake early with plenty of time to spare, Alex had decided to keep up his training and had either been meditating, practicing his katas, or working out. It didn't hurt that the exercises helped to keep his questions at bay either. With a groan, he pushed himself up, off the floor of the bedroom, and called out for the person to give him fifteen minutes.
Pulling back the thick curtains, he admired the picturesque view of the lawn and listened to the light pattering of rain, enjoying the brief calm that the morning brought. Alex padded silently over to the suitcase that was sitting atop a feather-soft rug on the hardwood floor and rifled through it to get ready for a hot shower, contemplating how he had ended up in another rich family's estate home. After the treatment he had received while posing as Sir David Friend's delinquent son for his Point Blanc mission, he wasn't looking forward to the rest of the week. Although the Adair family treated him well, dealing with rich and important people was not something he enjoyed. But this time, politics - another thing he didn't care for - was also involved which made it even worse. He could see why Treat had been so strict about giving him lectures on the subject though.
Thanks to those lessons, he had had the training to prepare properly in between lunch and dinner after he left Smithers' office. Going through news articles and MI6's database files on the politicians gave him enough research to have already identified potential conflicts within the government. He supposed that he would just have to see if his intuition was correct. His bet was on the leader of the Labour Party or the Democratic Unionists being problematic. In the meantime, Alex knew he had to tread lightly to avoid causing a political nightmare. The whole mission would be a careful balancing act of making friends with everyone while staying in the shadows to identify and prevent threats, preferably without anyone the wiser until he chose to reveal himself to the Prime Minister. Just thinking about the politics irritated him though, and Alex couldn't help but wonder what the mission for the Germans would have been like. It might have still involved politics, he thought wryly as the hot water ran down his bare back. But probably not discreet bodyguard duty in fancy suits.
However, this political headache wasn't the main thing he wanted his exercises to keep away from his mind. After Alex had finished his research for the mission, there had still been an hour left before he met the driver who took him to the Adair residence. He had used that time to read his own file - the unaltered version. Since he had never done any written reports for his missions, Alex wondered who had had the unfortunate task of doing his paperwork for him. Probably Jones or Crawley, he thought. His snorted to himself in amusement at the image of either of them scribbling or typing furiously to catch up with the mountains of paperwork that his missions had created, on top of their own paperwork. Even though he didn't write the reports, they were still very recognizable. After all, the reports on his twelve completed missions had been taken straight from his retelling of events during debriefings. Alex idly wondered which one of those missions had been discounted from the file that the SAS had received on him. He guessed it could have been Wimbledon. Crawley had asked him to do that one as a personal favor. At least, that was how it had appeared at the time. With his file including that as a mission though, he was almost positive that Blunt had ordered it to maneuver him in place to deal with Sarov. Then again, the excluded mission could just as easily have been the one where he went after Cray since Blunt and Jones had actually warned him away from that one. It didn't really matter though. Everything was, more or less, as he expected. Well, almost everything.
After he got back from his assignment in Point Blanc, Blunt and Jones had sent him on a short mission to Afghanistan that still made him feel uneasy. He had never quite been able to figure out the goal of that assignment and it was the only part of his file that he didn't have the clearance to see. Even more worrying to him, Alex had watched Blunt mark and stamp that mission as failed. Yet, it was marked as a success in his file. Ben's words in Berlin came back to him. Only that you sometimes helped out MI6 and have an impressive 100% success rate. The statement had slightly bothered him at the time but Alex hadn't been able to put a finger on why. Now, he knew. The heads of Special Operations had lied to him about the successfulness of that mission. Come to think of it, that was the only mission that Blunt had done any paperwork for his missions in front of him at all. It had been a show, a manipulation to hide the truth from him. But now, Jones had already given him access to just about everything else in MI6 so what was so important about this mission that he couldn't know? As much as he was burning to find the answers, Alex knew the issue would have to be dealt with after his week at Downing Street.
Exhaling loudly, Alex got out of the shower and shook himself out of his thoughts, mentally preparing to face the Adair family while drying himself and dressing for the day. As he was running late, he went down the stairs two at a time but took a moment to slow down as he walked into the Adairs' dining room. His breath caught when he saw a little boy, around six or seven years old, sitting between two familiar, tall men. Graham and James Adair. One was the grey-haired, second-most senior civil servant in an old-fashioned suit. The other was a senior lecturer at Imperial College who had curly brown hair with a beard and was wearing a white dress shirt and jeans. It was the first time that he was seeing the child.
"Good morning, Alex," Graham greeted with a warm smile. "Come eat with us. We were just about to have breakfast."
"Good morning, Sir Graham, Mr. Adair," Alex replied, nodding to each of the men but not taking his eyes off of the child.
"Just Graham," the older man chided gently as a reminder.
"And call me James," the younger man added.
Alex hesitated. Then, he repeated his greeting with their given names. After the MI6 driver had brought Alex to the civil servant's Wiltshire home last night, he was enthusiastically welcomed into the family and told to use everyone's first names. No titles were needed. Like Byrne, these men were older and in positions of power so it felt odd to be so informal with them. As he had a feeling that this would happen a lot, he supposed that he would just have to get used to it.
Satisfied with his response, James said earnestly, "Alex, I'd like you to meet my sons. Unfortunately, my younger one has the flu so he's at home with my wife right now. Hopefully, I can introduce you to him someday. But this is my seven year old, the elder one."
Alex walked over to them, smiling, and crouched down to talk to the boy. "Hey, my name is Alex. What's your name?"
The child looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Say hello to your Uncle Alex," James nudged the boy gently.
Alex snapped his head up to the men for a fraction of a second in surprise before looking back at the child, just in time for the small voice to answer shyly, "Hi, Uncle Alex. My name is John."
Even though Alex expected the name, his heart still clenched upon hearing it. Still, he kept a smile on his face and kept all of his focus on the boy in front of him. "That's a nice name, John. Do you know what it means?" The child shook his head emphatically. "It means that you are blessed. Lucky." He paused, causing the men to look at him concernedly, and then continued sombrely, "It's my father's name too and he was a very lucky man."
"I'm lucky?" John asked, a dimple forming as a slow smile spread across his face.
Alex nodded and grinned while confirming, "Of course you are." Then, he looked at the food on the table and, at the slight nod from the men when he silently asked for permission, cheerfully asked, "So, what does this lucky boy want for breakfast, John? Do you want this dry, whole grain toast?" The child shook his head with a scrunched up face and Alex continued listing the different foods on the table. Alex came up with vivid descriptions for each food he listed, making the boy laugh while shaking his head. Finally, Alex asked, "What about these fun, chocolatey Coco Pops?"
"Yeah!" John exclaimed, bouncing up and down in his seat.
Chuckling, Alex ruffled the boy's hair and told him to settle down, pouring some of the cereal and milk into a bowl. Once John was happily eating breakfast, Alex poured a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for himself and filled his own plate with eggs, bacon, and a slice of toast. Throughout all of this, he was acutely aware of the two men staring at him but only looked up to meet their gaze when he had finished filling his plate.
"You're okay with being John's uncle, right?" James babbled nervously. "I'm sorry.... I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that, with our family histories and all, I figured if anyone had that right, it would be you."
Alex was silent for a moment, taking the time to formulate an answer. "Not sure how safe it is to be associated with me but I guess I'm fine with being his uncle."
"Thank you," James breathed out in relief.
"And no need to worry about the safety," Graham added. "My position in the government makes them a target anyways. Having you as a part of the family won't change the security needed."
Alex nodded and the three of them fell silent, lost in their own memories on the matter as they listened to John playing with his food. They knew the risks all too well. James' hostage situation so many years ago on Albert Bridge was proof of that.
"You remind me of your father," Graham quietly remarked after awhile. "Not just because you're a spitting image of him either. John conducted himself in the same way – kind, totally in command, and completely at ease in every situation. And with all that you've done for the world... I can't imagine him being okay with you following in his footsteps so young but he'd be proud of you."
"You'd make a good father too," James added thoughtfully.
Alex shook his head, arching an eyebrow. "I don't think an educator is supposed to be encouraging teen pregnancies."
The men laughed and James amended, "Of course not. When you're older though..."
"Maybe," Alex said noncommittally. He was too young, and his future too uncertain, to even consider something that far ahead. Alex knew the consequences of his choice in continuing intelligence work meant that he would most likely die young. He couldn't even be sure that he would live to see twenty. Mentally forcing those bleak thoughts aside, Alex continued eating his breakfast and indulged John, ironically, in a game of "I Spy" while listening to the men's conversation about living at Downing Street for the week with the rest of the high ranking officials and their guests who had homes that were too far away for a daily commute back and forth from the government headquarters. The lower ranking ones and their guests would be staying at nearby hotels.
Half an hour later, they were ready to leave the grand Wiltshire estate after loading their suitcases into the boot and piling into a sleek Rolls-Royce for the two hour ride to Downing Street via the M4, the driver nodding his understanding of Sir Graham's instructions. The trip was uneventful, with John falling asleep and the men briefing Alex on the day's events, but he was nervous by the time they reached the foreboding gates of his country's government headquarters. Passing through security at the gate alone took about ten minutes but after that, everything happened in a blur. Suddenly, they were being ushered out of the vehicle and through the black door, into Number 10, while attendants came out to retrieve their suitcases. Before he knew it, the car had already driven out of sight and they were being led to a large, sparsely furnished room filled with murmuring government officials and their guests.
Alex grimaced inwardly as he stepped onto the Persian rug that covered most of the room's floor while Sir Graham leant down and quickly informed him in a whisper that they were in the Pillared State Drawing Room, the largest of the drawing rooms. Nodding at the civil servant, Alex felt a small hand tug on his trousers and smiled down at John. The boy was already holding James' hand but Alex obliged the child and held out a hand as well, scanning the room for faces and identifying the security measures in place as he did so. The security was more lax inside the building and he made a note of each security guard and camera's location, wondering if the place had been swept for listening devices. During his security scan, Alex picked out familiar faces from the sea of people in the room, recognizable from the news or MI6's files. There were even quite a few government officials that had been present when Alex had said his piece at the COBRA meeting about SCORPIA's Invisible Sword operation. He hoped that they had enough sense to not draw any attention to him. Then again, maybe revealing his identity was what the politicians would want. It was going to be a long and tense week for him. What had Jones been thinking? He was too recognizably associated with MI6 here. And not associated with government officials enough for this. To the right people, he'd stick out like a zebra amongst lions. Hopefully, he wouldn't end up like one. Across the room, his stomach became a pit of dread at the anticipated conversation to come as Alex spotted Sahara's pretty face with the telltale long black hair and blue eyes. He recognized the prime minister's family and Cameron Sands soon after.
A few minutes later, the prime minister cleared his throat at the front of the room, drawing Alex out of his thoughts as everyone fell silent. "Good morning, everyone. Thank you for coming to join in on the festivities for the week. Christmas is in three days and I hope you will enjoy the holiday with us. As I'm sure you're all aware, this is for everyone to get to know each other better in a more relaxed environment. The goal is to promote friendly working relations and dispel any hard feelings towards each other that the previous administration had fostered within our government. That being said, there is still work to be done so meetings will be interspersed between all of the other planned activities. Any non-government officials will have that time to do as they wish during the meetings. As I speak, a schedule for the week is being passed around for you to look at."
Indeed, attendants were moving through the crowd of people to pass out schedules to everyone, which Alex accepted with a quiet "thank you". He did a cursory glance through it as he listened to the rest of the prime minister's speech. "For now, we will be starting the day off with a meeting in the Cabinet Room. As for everyone not in the meeting, I encourage you to socialize with each other and those of you staying the nights will be shown to your rooms momentarily."
With that, the prime minister stepped away, heading towards the Cabinet Room with the other government officials, and the guests returned to their murmured conversations. As Sir Graham had left them to follow the prime minister, James and Alex looked at each other, in silent askance of what to do, before the older man led the way towards a nearby family to introduce themselves and started discussing what they were looking forward to for the week. Soon, they were talking with several families while John played with the other children. Alex, for his part, had stayed in the vicinity of James as he struck up a conversation with the teenagers of various politicians. While he enjoyed talking to someone his own age for once, Alex was distinctly aware of how different he was from them. As he asked questions and joked around with the teens, he kept half an eye on John the whole time while cataloguing every face and interaction he saw, as well as every piece of information he received, at the back of his mind. All of it was an ongoing and never-ending security assessment, including the questions he asked the teens which were meant to steer the conversation to optimize his information gathering. From the answers he received, it seemed that his suspicions on the government officials' relations with each other were mostly confirmed.
Halfway through a conversation where a teen had just revealed that his parents often clashed with members of the Liberal Democrats, Alex saw Sahara, out of the corner of his eye, turn pale at the sight of him and run out of the drawing room with the prime minister's confused wife and daughter following her. Knowing he couldn't delay that confrontation any further, Alex muttered an agreement to the teen about how annoying political arguments could become and made his excuses, quickly informing James of where he was going before following the three females.
Walking at a brisk pace, Alex slipped through the crowd and soon found himself in an empty hallway, frowning down at his wrist as the watch vibrated to alert him of someone opening his suitcase. It was probably just the security team making sure that none of the guests had brought anything to pose a threat. Nevertheless, Alex made a mental note to check his suitcase. Pausing, he listened for any sign of where to go next and heard faint voices coming from behind a closed door not too far away. Alex thought it was the White State Drawing Room he remembered seeing on the blueprint that MI6 had on the building. Gathering his courage, he softly knocked on the door. The voices stopped and footsteps came towards him, the door opening to reveal the prime minister's wife.
"Hello, Mrs. Macmillan," he greeted amiably with a pleasant smile. Peering past the woman, Alex saw that Sahara and the prime minister's daughter were also present. "And Ms. Macmillan. I'm Alex Rider, a guest of Sir Graham Adair. May I speak with Sahara?"
The woman eyed him suspiciously but before she could question him, Sahara answered in a cold voice that made him cringe inwardly. "What do you want, Alex?"
"You know this boy?" Mrs. Macmillan and her daughter turned to ask stiffly at the same time, sensing Sahara's hostility. Alex took the opportunity to step into the room and close the door behind him.
"Yes," Sahara said shortly. "We went snowboarding together for a few days. Until I was kidnapped by some people who were after the information on Dad's laptop."
The prime minister's wife and daughter gasped at this.
"And you!" Sahara suddenly stalked towards Alex, eyes flashing and jabbing a finger into his chest with each word. "I signaled for you to get help! Instead, you followed us to the top of that mountain and stole Dad's laptop back from the kidnappers! Don't you even dare deny it! I recognized your ski jacket. What were you thinking?! I saw those men go after you with guns down that mountain. A black run that you said was too dangerous and refused to go down the day before no less! You could have died! In fact, after the laptop was returned to Dad, we never were told whether or not you'd survived so we assumed the worst! I spent the last two years thinking you were dead! How did you get out of that?"
By the time she finished ranting at him, Sahara was breathing heavily and Alex twisted his lips in an ironic smile before offering an explanation, both of them ignoring the two wide-eyed, gaping occupants of the room. "It seems that some things run in the Rider family. Taking care of things ourselves is one of them. I never even thought to go to the police, just my uncle and your dad. Ian was nowhere to be found and your dad had already received da Silva's call about having taken you hostage by the time I reached him. So, I followed your dad to the top of that mountain. I made sure that the exchange was completed, that you were safe with your father, before I plucked that laptop out of da Silva's hands." Alex chuckled darkly. "As you saw from their pursuit and shooting that followed, it certainly made them go off-piste. We ended up on the edge of a lake and I was saved by the authorities. Your kidnappers were on thin ice when they showed up and you were gone by the time I made it back to the resort."
Sahara stared at him for a moment. Then, she attempted to scowl, but failed, and ended up trying to fight off a smile instead. Punching his arm lightly, she jokingly scolded, "You're absolutely horrible." A mischievous glint entered her eyes. "Did they fall into the lake?"
"Sahara!" Mrs. Macmillan reprimanded. But she was fighting off a smile as well while Alex and her daughter laughed, ruining the effect.
"What? It's a valid question," Sahara said innocently. None of them were fooled.
"I may have tricked one of them into it," Alex answered, glad for the friendly banter now that he had told her the truth. It was an edited version, without any direct mention of Ian's involvement, but it was the truth. And that was all that mattered to him. He hated lying to his friends.
They giggled at his response, even Mrs. Macmillan. Once they composed themselves enough to stop, Sahara said seriously, "I don't know if you knew what was on that laptop but Dad works in the Secretary of Defense office. I found out later that his hard drive contained classified information about an American agent working in the Middle East. It's why we had CIA agents with us that whole time. If you hadn't stolen his computer from those men, the information would have leaked and put so many lives in danger. Plus, it would have been a huge embarrassment to the United States government. So, thank you. And I'm so glad that you're alright."
"You're welcome, I guess," Alex shrugged nonchalantly. But in his mind, he was cursing Ian and MI6 for having him anywhere near that potential political disaster without informing him. Because, with this new information, Alex was certain that MI6 had sent Ian on a mission to Colorado to help ensure that the information did not fall into the wrong hands. It could have easily gone wrong. Like his poor timing in finding Ian and da Silva fighting over control of a gun. That had nearly gotten Ian shot. If he had made a single misstep, he could have derailed Ian's entire mission and put who knows how many lives at risk.
"Oh come on," the prime minister's daughter laughed. "You act like saving people's lives is something you do in your spare time."
Alex forced himself to grin playfully. Not that anyone could tell. The smile looked effortless to the three ladies. "Who knows, Ms. Macmillan? Maybe it is."
"In your dreams!" Sahara exclaimed at the same time as the prime minister's daughter wrinkled her nose and said, "Just call me Sophia. Ms. Macmillan makes me feel like I'm about to get in trouble at school."
"Get in trouble a lot, do we?" Alex smirked.
"Oh yes," Sophia nodded seriously, playing along. "All the time. I'm always late with my shirt untucked."
"Talking back to the teachers," Sahara joined in. "Unfinished homework."
"Playing pranks," Alex added.
"Distracting all the boys," Sophia finished off the list.
They cracked up at that, knowing that she went to an all-girls school. Mrs. Macmillan shook her head fondly at their antics. "Alright, that's enough," she interrupted. "It's time to return to the rest of our guests. We've spent long enough in here. Remember, Sophia, it is impolite for the hosts to be away from their guests for too long."
"Yes, mum," Sophia replied.
As they made their way out of the room, Mrs. Macmillan said, "And Alex, I believe the younger Adairs are being shown to their rooms right now. I will have someone do the same for you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Macmillan."
"Is your uncle staying with the Adairs too?" Sophia asked curiously as they entered the Pillared Stated Drawing Room once again, Mrs. Macmillan leaving them so she could entertain some guests and organize the next activity.
"He's dead," Alex said blankly. He didn't quite know how to feel about his uncle anymore.
"What?! How?! When?!" Sahara immediately rattled off, shocked.
"... I'm so sorry," Sophia apologized in the moment of silence that followed her friend's questions, biting her lip apprehensively. "I didn't know or I wouldn't have brought it up."
Alex waved her off. "It's fine. You have nothing to apologize for. Ian died over a year ago, a few months after Sahara's kidnapping. After the funeral, I saw what was left of his car..." he trailed off, shaking his head. Let them think it was an accident, Alex thought, unwilling to lie outright to the girls.
"Oh Alex," Sahara said sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry. I know the two of you were close. It must have been so hard on you." Alex shrugged. "Wait, you told me your parents had died when you were younger too. So, who's looking after you now?"
"No one. I'm legally emancipated. Sometimes, family friends will invite me to spend a week or two with them though."
"Like the Adair family?" Sophia asked.
"Yeah," Alex nodded just as Mrs. Macmillan approached them again, butler in tow.
"Alex," she said. "Alfred will show you to your room now. Make sure to come back down in fifteen minutes though."
The slender man gestured for Alex to follow him. "This way, please."
As the butler led him silently to his guest bedroom on the third floor private residence, Alex caught glimpses of each of the rooms along the way and his sharp eyes took in every detail, memorizing everything. He knew the building had over a hundred rooms and, even though he could bring up the blueprints from memory, it wasn't the same as actually seeing each place. So, Alex filed all of it away in his mind but, before long, they reached his assigned bedroom.
"Here you are, Mr. Rider," the butler said briskly, gesturing at the room. "The Adair family has the two rooms on either side of you and the Prime Minister's family is at the other end of the corridor. If you need anything else, ring the bell and one of the staff will be with you shortly."
Alex barely finished nodding at the instructions before the butler turned sharply on his heel and hurried off to attend to something else. Shrugging to himself, he poked his head into the room to see that his suitcase was already placed by the four-poster bed. He did a quick check and was satisfied that nothing had been taken or added to his stuff before heading back downstairs to the drawing room, glad that he had paid enough attention to find his way back on his own.
" – hope you are ready for some competition!" Alex heard the prime minister say enthusiastically with a twinkle in his eyes as he slipped back into the drawing room, unnoticed by anyone else. "Because we are going to have a gingerbread house contest in the next few minutes! If everyone could split into teams of six and follow me, we'll get started in one of the conference rooms. Each member of the winning team will get a batch of sugar cookies for themselves. Have fun and may the best gingerbread house win!"
All around him, Alex could hear people chattering to each other excitedly and getting into their groups, brainstorming ideas as they went. He looked around and casually made his way over to where he spotted Sahara and Sophia. "Can I join your team?"
The girls jumped and turned around in shock. "Alex! You scared me," they said in unison. "When did you get here?"
"Sorry," Alex grinned sheepishly. "I just got back in time to hear we were making gingerbread houses. So... can I join you two?"
"Yes, of course," Sahara said, smiling at him. "Our parents are partnering up with the other adults."
"We still need three more people on our team," Sophia added as they followed the crowd. "Do you think Sir Graham and his family will join us?"
Alex shrugged. "I'm sure they'd be happy to."
As though of the same mind, the three of them squeezed through the crowd as one to approach the Adair family with Alex in the lead, carving out a clear path. When they reached the men, Alex tapped Sir Graham's shoulder while calling out to them. He had to remind himself to use the man's given name.
"Alex," Sir Graham greeted warmly. "I was wondering where you went off to!"
"Finding an old friend," Alex replied. "Graham and James, this is Sophia Macmillan and Sahara Sands. I just met Sophia today but I knew Sahara from a couple of years ago."
The men smiled at the girls and shook their hands while Alex complied with John's unspoken request to be picked up. "The prime minister's daughter and the American diplomat's family, correct?" Sir Graham asked.
"Yes, sir," Sophia answered politely, just as they reached the conference room that her father had led the crowd to. "We were wondering if you and your family would like to join us for the gingerbread house contest?"
"Of course!" James agreed readily. "That would be great. Any ideas for what you want to do yet?"
"A cabin in the middle of the woods!" Sahara exclaimed as they settled into one of the stations set up for the activity.
"And lots of chocolate and sprinkles!" Sophia added, reaching for one of the chocolates and popping it into her mouth.
"What about you, Alex?" Graham asked.
"A gingerbread family," Alex tossed out casually, having given it barely any thought. He was more concerned about the nearby foreign and defence secretaries who had been at the last COBRA meeting and were currently heading their way, eyeing him with undisguised interest.
"Sir Graham," the foreign secretary greeted upon reaching their station, prompting their group to fall silent. "Would you be able to spare a few minutes to talk with us after this contest?"
"Yes, of course," the senior civil servant replied. "We can use my office. Unless you want to talk in yours?"
"No, an office won't be necessary," the defence secretary said, never taking his eyes off of Alex the whole time. "We won't keep you from your family long. Although, I don't remember you having a teenage grandson, Graham."
"Ah...no, he isn't my grandson. This is Alex. Our families have been friends for many years and we consider him an uncle to John."
"Uncle?" the foreign secretary questioned.
Graham nodded. "Yes. A little young for it, I'll admit, but it fits."
"Rider, correct? Alex Rider?" the defence secretary asked with narrowed eyes. Graham and James exchanged anxiously helpless glances at the tone, sensing that the situation could take a turn for the worse but clueless on how to diffuse it, while the girls looked back and forth in confusion. John was oblivious to all of this, happily playing with the frosting that had been provided for the activity.
"Yes, sir," Alex answered respectfully. Not knowing what the man wanted and having no desire to cause a scene, he squashed the urge to be sarcastic.
The foreign and defence secretaries considered him for a moment. Then, the foreign secretary said, "Weren't you at the last COB - ?"
"Yes," Alex cut him off in a tight voice, briefly flicking his eyes over towards the girls and the child on his lap in an attempt to warn them off of mentioning any classified information. The men clearly recognized him so it was no use lying about it. But admitting it was also a risk as he had no idea if displaying reluctance of having his involvement with Invisible Sword made known to those outside of that meeting would make the men all the more eager to expose him.
"Hmm... I do hope you aren't still with Blunt and Jones," the defence secretary stated impassively.
"I don't have any family left but Graham was kind enough to invite me to spend Christmas with them," Alex answered the man's underlying questions lightly, relieved that they weren't going to blow his cover for now. He wasn't about to tell them that he was still working for MI6 though. After all, the purpose of giving him this specific mission was to have the Prime Minister be the first politician to be aware of his continued involvement on the intelligence agency's terms.
The two secretaries accepted his answer, nodding curtly. "Well, it was nice to meet all of you but we'd better be getting back to our own teams. Graham, we'll talk to you later."
"Yes, yes, later," Graham replied distractedly, still trying to get over how easily Alex had navigated through that interaction when he, with years of experience in dealing with politicians, had no idea what to do or say.
"Alex...," Sophia said slowly, drawing out his name with her brows furrowed. "That man said you were with some people, whatever their names are. Who were they?"
"The people you were with didn't... you know.... abuse you, did they?" Sahara asked concernedly, fidgeting uncomfortably with her sleeve.
"They were just temporary guardians. The distant type," Alex assured them, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half smile. Technically, it wasn't a lie. "Anyways, I think we should get back to building this gingerbread house. We've wasted a lot of time already. The other teams have already started!" Looking down at John, he gently poked the child in his side and asked, "What do you want to put on the gingerbread house?"
The child giggled, feeling ticklish when poked, and looked up at him with wide eyes, shyly asking, "Can we put a mummy dog and lots of puppies and make a house for them? And then have Santa take care of them? Please?"
Everyone chuckled. "Of course!" Alex agreed. "Want to help me make the puppies first?"
"YEAH!" John exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands.
Shifting the child onto another chair, the next two hours were spent building and decorating the gingerbread house, eating sweets as they put everything together. Halfway through, the girls exchanged mischievous glances and took some of the extra frosting into their hands, simultaneously swiping it onto each side of Alex's face. They, and everyone in the room who had noticed it, snickered at his indignant expression. With wide eyes, the girls' amusement was cut off when a glint appeared in his eyes, accompanied by a playful growl. Alex shot out of his seat and easily snagged both girls by the waist before they managed to run away, pushing them back into their chairs and smearing some frosting onto their faces in return. John giggled continuously at their antics and the Adair men shook their heads in amusement. Smirking at the girls' shocked expressions, Alex wiped the frosting off of his own face and calmly continued to help John with the decorating. After a while, the girls got over their surprise and followed suit so the rest of the time was spent working together to put the finishing touches on their creation, completing it just as the time was up. Each group presented their gingerbread houses at the front of the room and they all voted on the best one. Their team didn't win. The leader of the Labour Party, Liam Baster, and his team won the contest, looking smugly at everyone else while some of the younger kids from the other teams cried. It took ten minutes for Alex, the Adairs, and the girls to cheer up John. But once the child was calm again, the Adairs took John and left Alex to spend some of their free time with Sahara and Sophia.
Over the next few days, Alex developed a routine with the Adair family and the girls. Free time and scheduled activities alternated but Alex rarely left the girls' side. Sometimes, the Adair family and Cameron Sands would join them. Other times, they socialized with everyone else and, half the time, John would choose to follow Alex. One could often find the three teenagers and the child together. During free time, it was just the four of them, playing in the snow, people-watching while they talked, or making something in the basement's private kitchen. Also, surprisingly, the girls still had ballet practice on a couple of days and Alex had been allowed in for the sessions. Although, that was probably more because the girls wanted him to fulfill the male role of the duets which he learned quite quickly, if exasperatedly and lacking in technique.
However, even when they joined the other guests their age in the scheduled activities, which varied from decorating Christmas trees and baking to skating at an outdoor ice rink and visiting the Hyde Park Winter Wonderland fairground, the four of them were almost always together. To Alex, the assigned MI5 agents were quite conspicuously placed for these outdoor ventures and he made a mental note to tell Jones about it. After all, MI6 agents weren't much better, especially with their choice of clothing.
Much more discretely, Alex joined the agents in being on high alert, looking for anything out of the ordinary and keeping the girls within his line of sight at all times, knowing that those would be perfect opportunities for an attack to happen. Perhaps it was because of this hyper awareness that he was able to avoid every flash of a camera from capturing his face. All the same, Alex was glad his coat had a hood that completely covered his hair and the sides of his face, protecting him from the greedy journalists or overly curious civilians' attempts to take a photo of the high profile people he was currently with. Even more importantly, his elevated awareness at Hyde Park made his skin crawl as he crouched down to help John put on his mittens for the third time that day. It felt like someone was watching them.
No, someone was focused on him specifically. That didn't make any sense. It was supposed to be Sophia that was in danger at the moment. Quickly, he ran through a mental list of people who might still be out for his blood. And came up with nothing. Everyone was either dead or MI6 just finished making deals for them to leave him alone. Although the attention didn't make him feel like he was in any imminent danger, Alex still had to force himself to appear relaxed as he scanned their surroundings. He was rewarded with a dark glint from the top of one of the buildings on the edge of the park, about two hundred meters away.
"Anyone want to take a look at some of the jewellery over there?" Alex asked the girls, pointing over to the only market stall with a mirror.
"Ooh yes, good eye!" Sophia exclaimed, bounding over to the seller enthusiastically. "I still have to get a gift for mum. This could be perfect!"
As the girls admired the jewellery, Alex kept John occupied with a shiny necklace, letting the child play with it while he pretended to look at a pair of opal earrings, occasionally adjusting the mirror for the girls to inspect their appearance, making sure to point the mirror just high enough for him to get a better look at whoever was watching him. What Alex saw in those brief glimpses did not reassure him. There was a man on the roof of that building with vaguely familiar features and a lot of surveillance equipment, Nikon binoculars trained on their group. Deciding to name the man Binoculars, he wracked his brains but couldn't figure out why the man was familiar. At least there wasn't a sniper rifle pointed at them. Yet.
Noticing that John had lost interest in the jewellery, Alex crouched down and asked, "Are you bored?"
"Yes," John pouted, face scrunched up into an adorable frown. Pointing to something in the distance, he stomped his foot while exclaiming, "I want to go on that loopy thing!"
Alex looked over to where the child was pointing and laughed, ruffling John's hair. "Sorry, kid. You won't be able to go on that roller coaster because you need to be big enough so you won't get hurt. Maybe when you're taller, they'll let you." John crossed his arms at this, lip trembling, so Alex consoled the child by hugging him and suggesting, "No, no, don't cry. We could go on the Wave Swinger over there instead. And there are plenty of other rides you could try."
John peeked over his shoulder at where Alex was gesturing and a small smile started to form before asking, "Promise?"
"Promise," Alex confirmed solemnly. "And I don't break my promises."
"Okay," John said happily. "Can we go on those rides now?"
Chuckling, Alex shook his head. "No, we need to wait for the girls. They'll be awhile though so, tell you what, we can play around with my phone while we wait. That way, we won't be bored."
"Where is it?" John asked.
Alex smiled and took his phone out of his pocket as he maneuvered the two of them further into the market stall, blocking anyone from seeing what he was doing. Unlocking the cover system with his fingerprint, he tapped on iTunes and turned the phone upside down while tapping on a few more settings to access the bug finder and listening device. A map showing a faint outline of his surroundings appeared on the screen. As did several clusters of bright red dots. Alex's stomach dropped. There were probably some bugs on the MI5 agents surrounding them so they could monitor the situation more easily. But the screen was showing way more dots than there were agents. Keeping an easy smile on his face for John, he tapped a few more settings so that different frequencies from the bugs would show different colours. Grimacing inwardly at the red, green, yellow, and blue dots, Alex fiddled around some more with the settings and put in an earbud, saying brightly, "Look at all the colours, John! Do you want to play with this?"
John nodded, clapping his hands and laughing delightedly at the different colours moving around.
"Alright, listen carefully then," Alex instructed. "If you tap these buttons here on the screen, all the colours disappear. These buttons will make one colour appear. And if you play around with these ones, you can make one of the other colours show up. Or all of them! Got it?"
"Yeah! Can I try now?" John asked. "Please?"
Chuckling, he handed his phone, still upside down, to the child. As John became engrossed in playing around with the different colours, Alex watched the dots and matched them to the people surrounding them, appearing bored and unconcerned to the casual onlooker. However, on the inside, he was tense. The blue dots seemed to match up to the MI5 agents but, compared to the rest of the dots, were very few. The majority were the red dots and those were on all kinds of adults. The gender, wealth, race, and age didn't seem to matter. And then, there were the yellow and green dots. There were only two of each. A yellow on the leader of the Labour Party and a green on the leader of the Democratic Unionist Party. Those had a corresponding dot that matched Binoculars. In fact, the man had a red dot too.
While he matched up the dots to the people, Alex kept an eye on the girls and used the listening device to tune into different conversations, occasionally tapping the screen to hone in on specific people. There were no suspicious conversations to be heard though. Only inane chatter or things that he would really rather not repeat. Satisfied that nothing was happening at the moment, Alex put away his phone and earbuds when the girls finished buying some jewellery for themselves and their mothers.
The rest of the day was spent going on rides, like he promised John, and playing games. Even though there didn't seem to be an immediate attack, Alex noted that they were followed by both MI5 agents and everyone he assumed to be Binoculars' people. As a precaution, Alex handed John over to the girls to take care of, keeping all of them within arm's reach so that he would be ready if they were attacked. Thankfully, nothing did happen and John was peacefully sleeping in his arms as they left Hyde Park to return to Downing Street.
Christmas and Boxing Day passed uneventfully, making Alex feel melancholy about Jack's absence but a little more normal with the lack of action. Even with sending reports to Jones and Barker every night, it didn't feel like a mission anymore. Just a good time spending the holidays with friends. And over these few days, Alex spent so much time with the girls that Mrs. Macmillan had warmed up enough towards him that she invited Alex to join them for their family's daily afternoon tea during free time. Because of this, even the Prime Minister became familiar enough with him that he was encouraged to play a few games of snooker with the politician and some other government officials every night, after the girls went to sleep. The first time this happened though, Alex got a sense that the Prime Minister was testing him. For what, he didn't know until the man frustratedly asked him outright what his intentions with Sophia were. Alex burst out laughing at this. It took him a full minute before he recovered enough to inform the protective father that he had only met Sophia because they were both friends with Sahara. In short, he had no intentions with Sophia. He was acutely aware that he left out the fact that Sophia was his mission. However, after hearing his response, the Prime Minister grinned sheepishly and apologized for the assumption. From then on, the rest of their conversations were much more relaxed and light-hearted.
On Friday night, after Boxing Day, the Prime Minister decided to switch things up a bit. Instead of their nightly snooker games after the girls had gone to sleep, Alex was playing Truth or Dare with the politicians. The rules were that anyone who doesn't want to answer a question honestly or doesn't want to do the dare has to drink a shot of whiskey as a punishment. Alex, being clearly underage, would substitute with a spoonful of hot sauce. He didn't mind the hot sauce. It wasn't even a punishment like the men thought it would be. Growing up with Ian meant that he got used to different cuisines, including spicy ones. However, what he did mind was the amount of drinking involved. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered Alex much but with the threat against the Prime Minister, it made him uneasy. Still, Alex went along with the game to keep watch over the men and avoid raising any suspicions. The only comfort he had was the brief look of concern that Graham sent his way. At least there was one person, besides him, who was aware of the dangers of being intoxicated at the moment.
Two hours into the game, Alex had completed five dares and told the one truth that the politicians had ribbed him into choosing. The hot sauce remained untouched while the men became drunker by the minute and provided Alex with plenty of amusing blackmail material. Some of the photos he managed to take of the government officials were quite risqué and others were just plain embarrassing.
"What secret have you kept from your parents?" someone yelled out in answer to the Prime Minister's choice of truth on the man's seventh turn.
Alex smirked to himself. This could get interesting.
"There was this one night," the Prime Minister slurred. "I was fifteen, maybe sixteen. Snuck outta the house after me parents went to bed so I could go to a party with me girlfriend. We broke up a few days later.... But 'twas late at night. So dark I couldn'a seen anythin'. On the way out, I grabbed a bottle o' rum to take to the party but tripped. Stuck out me hand tha' was holdin' the bottle - "
The story was cut off by a chorus of drunken laughter as the Prime Minister enthusiastically re-enacted the events, resulting in the man's arm hitting a box of neon pink hair dye that was leftover from a dare, knocking it off the table and onto himself. Alex snorted and took out his phone to snap some pictures of the shirtless Prime Minister who had just accidentally dyed his own chest hair an obnoxious colour.
"Look a' this!" the Prime Minister exclaimed, struggling in his reduced coordination to put the box upright on the table again. "Wonder if me wife will like it!"
As Graham was the only person besides Alex who wasn't inebriated, the civil servant shook his head with a grin and called out, "So what happened after you tripped?"
"Oh yes!" the man said, a spark of recognition for the interrupted storytelling evident in his eyes. "The bottle broke on the grass in the yard an' tha' was when I knew it wasn't a bottle o' rum but me mum's fav'rite Ming vase! Me mum still thinks 'twas the dog that broke it!"
The men roared with laughter at this until one of them decided out loud that the dye was a pretty colour and should be used to redecorate the room. With the exception of Graham, the rest of the men agreed and Alex could only watch in mild horror as the men started smearing the dye all over the walls, resembling stumbling toddlers in art class. Sighing, Alex decided that the politicians were getting too crazy in their inebriated state and needed some help in sobering up fast. He took one last picture of the men's drunken antics and gestured for Graham to do some damage control. Then, Alex strolled out of the third floor private residence's living room and down towards the private kitchen in the basement to grab a couple jugs of cold water, passing by numerous offices, conference rooms, reception halls, and sitting and dining rooms.
Somewhere along the first floor corridor, two things happened simultaneously. Alex felt his watch vibrate, indicating that someone was going through his suitcase, and four burly men with concealed guns were being led into the building by a nervous Liam Baster. Of course this was happening at, what was possibly, the worst moment, Alex thought sarcastically. His mission objectives were not only two floors away but, one of them was drunk out of his mind. And he was still in a dark suit - dress shoes and all. None of which were ideal for running or fighting. Cursing and sighing inwardly, he darted into the nearest room - an office - to listen to the intruders' footsteps as he used his phone's x-ray function to get an idea of everyone's position in the building while recording the politician's conversation, planning his next moves. If there was anything that his previous missions had taught him, it was that he needed to always provide concrete evidence for anyone to even consider backing him up, particularly when his accusations involved the rich and powerful.
" - on the third floor," Baster whispered to the men. "The guards' shift change is happening right now so you have ten minutes before the new guards realize anything is wrong. Remember, I'll send the second installment to your bosses once you succeed in kidnapping the Prime Minister's family and the last insta - "
Baster whimpered as he was cut off, his body slamming into the wall.
"Listen here, Baster," one of the intruders snarled quietly. "You're not in charge anymore. Oh, you'll still send us the money for this job. But once we help put you in power, you're going to do what the Hunt Syndicate says. Or else, your family is going to find themselves in a very small cell with the big boss' hunting dogs. Are we clear?"
"But - "
Alex heard the harsh sound of a knife being unsheathed. "I said, are we clear?"
"Yes," came the faintly whispered reply.
"Good. Now stay out of our way." A body crumpled to the floor with a thud and was dragged off to be hidden somewhere. "Let's go. He'll come around in a few hours. Kill the target if, by some miracle, there aren't any witnesses. We'll take the girl first so her parents don't try anything. Take her little friends too if you can. The boss is particularly interested in those two boys."
The last bit made Alex raise an eyebrow in puzzlement but there was no time to dwell on it. The men's voices faded as they traveled farther away from his position, bringing the kidnappers closer to the Prime Minister and his family with each step. As soon as they were out of earshot, Alex sprang into action. He made a beeline for the desk and hastily shoved a letter opener into the bottom of his shoes, sent the recording of Baster's conversation to Jones and Barker, and turned on the distress signal to let the trackers in his phone and his watch inform the intelligence agencies of his location. All of this took him less than half a minute but they were seconds that he feared would be the difference between life and death for the Prime Minister and his family, not to mention John and Sahara.
Finished with the necessary preparations, Alex practically flew down the stairs to the kitchen and grabbed two jugs of icy cold water, snagging a kitchen knife and cooking pan as he went. Then, he raced up the stairs using a shortcut he remembered from the blueprints and burst into the third floor living room. Alex wasted no time in dumping a jug of water over the Prime Minister's head. The man spluttered indignantly as the rest of the politicians just laughed at what they thought was a joke.
"Wha - ?!"
"It's Baster. No time to explain," Alex snapped, handing the other jug and the kitchen knife to a wide-eyed and open-mouthed Graham. Then, he yelled over his shoulder while sprinting towards the girls' bedrooms, "Make sure he drinks that water to help sober up! Barricade yourselves until the all clear is given but run if you need to! Knife is for last resort self-defence!"
"Bloody hell," Graham muttered after a few moments, collecting himself enough to follow the boy's orders. He yanked the Prime Minister towards a hiding place, wondering if the other politicians could be trusted or if some of the others were in on Baster's plan.
Before Alex even reached Sophia's room, he already knew it was too late to prevent the kidnapping. There was a single scream from the girl's room and two more followed, one from Sahara and one from John. For a moment, Alex panicked, a million thoughts racing around in his mind. Sophia, Sahara, or John first? In fact, why was John in Alex's room and not in James'? The x-ray had shown a much larger person than John going through his suitcase so what happened in that time frame?
But the next second, it didn't matter which one he chose first because Mrs. Macmillan and James both rushed out of their rooms to see what was going on, terror for their children plainly evident. Their questions would delay him further. To cut down on the amount of time wasted, Alex shoved the cooking pan into James' hand and quickly rapped out, "James, take Mrs. Macmillan, barricade yourselves until the all clear is given, and explain what's going on to her! Be careful of Baster and use that pan to hit someone if you need to! I'll get them back! I promise!"
"But, Alex - " James protested.
He ignored the man in favor of dashing towards the window in his room. The kidnappers were just closing the back doors of an unmarked, black van. Soon, they would be driving away and he would have no way of reaching them. He was three floors from the pavement. At least seven or eight meters to fall. He might break his legs.
Alex threw open the window and took a few steps back, taking a running leap through the opening and twisting his body so that he landed shoulder first, smoothly rolling into a crouch. He could already feel the massive bruise on his shoulder forming and hoped he hadn't broken anything. Sprinting after the vehicle that had just started to pull away, Alex took another jump and balanced himself on the van's back ledge, holding on tight to the back door handles.