Becoming Agent Rider

Family Business

Wind whistled past Alex, numbing his skin, as he strained his muscles to hold onto the van while memorizing the route they were taking. He should have grabbed his jacket. The frosty air chilled him to the bone and made his eyes water. Shivering, Alex hoped he wouldn't catch a cold. He could almost hear Jack and Ian scolding him for not taking better care of himself.

How much time had passed? Five minutes? Ten? He wasn't sure he could hold on much longer. Every bump in the road threatened to dislodge him. His arms and legs burned with the effort of staying on the thin ledge while crouching low enough to not be seen through the back window. His dress shoes weren't helping him stay on either. And with the letter opener he had shoved into his shoe earlier, the sole of his foot was sure to have a bruise too. But if he gave in and fell now, at this speed, he would be as good as dead. Or, if he was lucky, severely bruised and cut up with a few broken bones. He couldn't afford either of those. Not with John and the girls' lives on the line. Gritting his teeth, Alex renewed his efforts to hang on and carefully adjusted his position. At least there were very few vehicles on the road at this time of night.

Muscles screaming in protest, the van finally stopped just as Alex feared his grip would fail. He checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes. They were in the docks in Canning Town, on London's East End. Interesting location, he thought as he silently got off the van, careful to remain crouched and out of view. He was lucky that he was positioned in such a way that the moonlight didn't cast a shadow to give away his presence. From Treat's politics lessons, he remembered that the Labour Party, and Baster by extension, had the majority vote in this area. It was also one of the Hunt Syndicate's territories - the founding location - if he recalled MI6's files correctly. A convenient place for smuggling and trafficking operations. That couldn't be a coincidence.

The driver cut the engine, doors opening and slamming shut a second later. Heavy footsteps approached on both sides and Alex flattened his back against the rear doors of the van. There was nowhere to hide. So, straining his ears, he listened for the pair of footsteps that would reach him first.

Turning towards his right, Alex popped up and grabbed the nearest kidnapper by the shoulders, pulling the man off balance, towards himself. Then, he continued pulling as he turned his body, pushing at the last second, so that the man was sent crashing into the two men on Alex's left. His foot connected with the temple of the remaining gang member on his right at the same time. The man dropped like a brick but Alex wasted no time in celebrating that fact. Instinctively, he dodged a punch but tightened his stomach muscles to lessen the damage as he deliberately let the next hit fall there. Still, he doubled over. Partially from the impact, partially to keep up an act. Before he could straighten up, Alex felt his arm being twisted behind him, forcing him down. He winced as his knees hit the hard concrete. There would definitely be bruises there. Defiantly, Alex raised his head to glare at the man in front of him, only to find a gun pointed in between his eyes. He swallowed thickly.

"You!" the gunman exclaimed. After a pause where he looked at his unconscious accomplice, he snarled, "That's my brother! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now!"

Well, that was just bloody fantastic, Alex thought. Family bonds meant a high probability of much more motivated revenge schemes. Outwardly, he raised an eyebrow and calmly replied, "You kidnapped my friends. How about we call it even?"

The gunman growled but, before either of them could do anything, another cold voice rang out. "If you pull that trigger, I'll finish off your brother."

They all turned towards the direction of the voice, the gunman reluctantly lowering his weapon and snapping to attention with the rest of his team. To Alex's surprise and immense relief, it was Binoculars, with his own gun pointed at the unconscious man in preparation of carrying out his threat. Based on the supposed interest of their boss, Alex had taken a chance in attacking the men without using the tranquilizer darts or his full training. He wanted to be captured so that he could stay with his friends and there was no use in having either act tip them off that he wasn't a normal schoolboy. For now, it seemed that his gamble had paid off.

As Binoculars approached them, Alex got a better look at the vaguely familiar man. Binoculars had fair hair like himself, blue eyes, and pale skin. There was something about the man's facial bone structure that seemed almost delicate while being quite handsome and reminded Alex of someone that he couldn't place. Once the man reached them, he surveyed the damage to his men that Alex had wrought. Addressing his men, Binoculars sneered, "At ease. Evidently, your team is incompetent if a teenager has managed to get past your defences. I've warned Commander David that you've been getting sloppy and overconfident but he didn't listen. Perhaps, this time, he will take my advice and demote your team." Then, he turned his attention to Alex, narrowing his eyes. "Although, there is something special about this boy. Alex, isn't it?"

Alex widened his eyes. "How did you know my name?" With the number of bugs that he had found earlier that week, Alex expected them to know some information about him. The schoolboy with political connections that he was currently playing, however, would be surprised and afraid.

"We have people everywhere. One of our specialties is information," Binoculars answered proudly before turning back to the other men and instructing, "Tie him up and lock him away with the others. I'll be back to deal with them after I report this to the higher ups."

With that, Binoculars strode off and Alex was roughly tied up with some rope. Then, the men threw open the van's back doors and pulled their captives out. John and the girls were frighteningly pale, eyes darting everywhere for an escape. When they caught sight of him, Alex tried to give them a reassuring smile but it didn't have any effect. He didn't blame them. They were probably in shock and scared out of their minds. Especially John.

Once they were all out, the men yanked them into a warehouse, past several sorting and packing stations with the finished canned goods stacked onto wooden pallets, and up into a second floor office that would allow managers to oversee the workers down below during normal operation hours. The gang members left the office with a slam of the door but Alex could hear them on the other side, staying to make sure they wouldn't escape. Alex let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and examined John and the girls properly while trying to discretely undo his bonds enough to make a move if necessary.

"Is everyone okay?" Alex asked softly. All three of them nodded. "Good. Don't worry too much. We'll get out of this."

"How can you say that?!" Sahara burst out, stalking up to him just as he managed to loosen up his bonds enough to slip out if it came down to it. She probably would have been poking his chest again to emphasize her words if her hands hadn't been bound behind her back. "We've just been kidnapped, from Downing Street of all places! And how stupid could you be?! You could have been safe with everyone else! But what do you do instead?! You come after us and get yourself kidnapped as well! Don't shake your head at me like you know better!"

"Sahara," Alex said placatingly while crouching down to dig around in his shoe, feeling warmth blossom somewhere in his chest at how much she cared. "You know I can take care of myself. Remember the last time you were kidnapped?"

"Of course, I do!" she exclaimed indignantly, as if she could ever forget.

"Then, trust me, we'll get out of this. You just have to play along and do as I tell you when the time comes. I promise."

Both girls looked at him doubtfully while John started to shake uncontrollably. "How can you be so certain and calm about all this?" Sophia asked.

"Because I've been here before and I know what I'm capable of," Alex replied grimly. Then, he smiled in satisfaction as he managed to get the letter opener out of his shoe. Before the girls could question him further, Alex walked over to the three of them and did his best to tuck John into his side while still having his hands tied up behind his back. It calmed the boy down a little bit and Alex kissed the top of the child's head before continuing in a low voice, "Sahara, come around and stand back to back with me. I want you to take this letter opener while I loosen up your ropes. Sophia, talk to John."

The girls complied with his instructions and, within a minute, Alex had them switch places. Another minute later, Sophia's ropes were loosened too. "Don't let anyone know that the ropes have been tampered with, alright? Sophia, look after John. And Sahara, hide the letter opener and use it to defend yourself if you need to, okay?"

"But - "

"No buts," Alex interrupted firmly. "When it comes down to it, would you rather stab someone or die without a fight?" Seeing Sahara's expression, he sighed and explained gently, "I know you don't want to and don't think you can do it. That's okay. I hope you don't need to use it either but it's there, just in case. It's better to have options, right?"

Sahara took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Okay... I think I can do that."

"Do you want to switch with Sophia?"

The girls looked at each other for a long moment. Then, they simultaneously answered, "No."

Alex nodded. He had expected as much. Out of the two of them, Sahara was better suited to the task he had given her. There was a certain spark and impulsiveness that Sophia just didn't have. Instead, the other girl was calmer and more logical but tended to take the time to think first. The girls balanced each other out. "Okay, stick to your roles and follow my lead then."

"Are the bad guys going to hurt us?" John finally asked shakily in a small voice, lips trembling as he tried to put on a brave face.

Crouching down, Alex looked John in the eyes. "No, I won't let them. We'll be okay."

"Promise?" came the small voice.

Alex smiled. "Promise. And I don't break my promises, do I?" He'd rather die than break this promise to the child.

John finally relaxed as he was reminded of their fun day at Hyde Park. "Okay."

"Well, isn't this just touching," Binoculars drawled as he slammed the door open.

Alex straightened up immediately and placed himself in front of the girls and his young charge, glaring at the man. "What do you want with us?"

"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" Binoculars asked. "This will be even more interesting than I first thought. But to answer your question, we were hired by Liam Baster to use whatever means necessary in forcing our dear current Prime Minister to step down, leaving the position open for his taking. Interfering with elections through threats, blackmail, and having our more "upstanding" members launch propaganda campaigns to convince the citizens to vote for Baster in the fallout is just the beginning. Although, that leader from the Democratic Unionist Party is being a pain. Haven't been able to convince her to show some support for Baster yet. Might have to kill off that bitch. And unfortunately for you, Baster wanted the girls kidnapped so that the Prime Minister would agree to resign."

"Charming," Alex said sarcastically while the girls went pale, swallowing audibly at the announcement. "We'll be getting a dictatorship soon with the way Baster is going. What's in it for you?"

"Money," the man simply replied. "And power. This gives us plenty of blackmail material to use against Baster. It'll be much easier to influence and control the direction of policies and laws made so that it benefits our businesses."

"For your sake, I hope you're prepared to deal with the resulting protests," Alex replied in a deadpan voice.

Binoculars chuckled. "You know, you remind me of an aunt I once had. She had fair hair and quite the fiery personality too. But very kind and understanding at the same time. When everyone else in my family was angry or disappointed in me, as they always were, I could count on her to listen to me. It didn't matter how much I screwed up. She would listen, offer some advice for me to think over, and give me a hug. Patch me up if I needed it too. I was always welcome to stay with her. But one day, she just disappeared and left me alone to deal with my family. I don't know where she went but I wish she had taken me with her," Binoculars finished up wistfully.

"So she can see you kidnapping children?" Alex snorted derisively. "Can't imagine she'd be happy about that."

"No, she wouldn't be," Binoculars conceded. "But she would still listen to my side of the story which is more than I can say for anyone else. I've tried to find someone as kind as my aunt but I never did. At least, not until that day at Hyde Park when I saw how you were with little John here. There was something in your expression, in the way you moved, that was exactly how my aunt would care for me. It was intriguing to see and made me realize that, if I wanted to talk to you, I had to take the child."

Alex wanted to scream. The Adair family had been in his life for a week and John was already in danger just by being associated with him. He felt his jaw clench and gently nudged the curious boy behind him so that John was out of sight, the girls shooting him uncertain glances. It didn't escape the man's notice.

"See, this is why you remind me of my aunt! The child is no relation of yours. You are but an orphan yourself! So why do you care so much?"

"It's called being a decent human. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Shaking his head, Binoculars barked out a bitter laugh. "Why should I when no one else is as decent? I know that I am not what others would consider a good person but I'm glad for that. They're hypocrites anyways. Not being so bloody good has saved my life. With my way, I have a stable job, plenty of money, and people that respect me." He paused, considering his next words. "You know, you could have that too. School life hasn't exactly been going well for you in the last year or so. You even moved to America for a little while! Seeing as you're back, it looks like that didn't go too well either. Wouldn't you want to be accepted by your classmates once again?"

"Who wouldn't?" Alex retorted, still playing the role of an affluent schoolboy with connections, while internally clamping down on the panic that arose. It seemed that Binoculars had been busy digging into his life, the last thing that he wanted anyone to do. Although, the thing that calmed him down quickly was the fact that the man didn't seem to know anything about his work with MI6 yet. Putting some fear in his voice, he continued asking, "And how do you know anything about my school life?!"

"Like I said, our specialty is information," Binoculars smirked. "Well, that, among many other things. The Hunt Syndicate is the most powerful criminal organization in the London area. We could help you get ahead in life. The rumours at your school indicate that you haven't been around much and come back injured all the time. Abuse, perhaps? Our organization could help you put a stop to that." The man paused, considering Alex. "You know, at first, I just wanted to talk to you. But, it seems that you have potential. Following your friends without being detected? That takes some skill and determination. Fighting off four men and managing to down one of them? Quite brave of you. Reckless, which we'll have to train you out of, but brave. And your combat skills are good for a schoolboy too. Still needs work but you've clearly had some training. Yes, I think it would be beneficial to both you and the organization. Of course, the commanders will have to approve it but what do you say to joining the Hunt Syndicate?"

Alex stared at the man. What was it with criminals wanting him to join them? Well, at least the gang's attention was on him instead of his friends. "Thanks, but I'll pass. I'd rather be abused and face my school's judgement than harm innocents."

"So much like my aunt," Binoculars sighed. "I suppose I should have expected it. That part of your personality is what drew my attention in the first place. But, you know, getting involved with us doesn't have to mean that you harm innocents. Like I said, our specialty is information. You could just help us gather that information and, in return, we can help you get away from whoever is abusing you. We'll provide you with tutors to help you get ahead in school too! You're no use to anyone uneducated anyways. Also, with the reason for your absences eliminated and an improved academic record, you'd be accepted by your school again."

He could just help them gather information? Now, where had he heard that one before, Alex thought sarcastically. To him, it was way overused. Blunt and SCORPIA had promised him the same thing. It never did turn out that way. However, a normal schoolboy wouldn't know all this. In fact, an abused outcast would see this as the perfect way to improve their life without compromising much on morals. In the silence that Binoculars had given him to think over the offer, Alex schooled his features to flit from adamant refusal to thoughtful to uncertain, before finally settling on cautious agreement. He asked slowly, "What would happen if I joined?"

"What?!" Sahara screeched, attempting to kick at Alex from behind. "You're just going to betray us all?! Just like that?! You coward!"

"Quiet!" Binoculars commanded as Alex turned his head to conceal his face from the gang and shot the girls a warning look. "Or I'll put a bullet in one of your legs."

The girls stilled and Sophia pulled John behind her while Sahara silently fumed. Turning back to the man, Alex shouted with a deliberately wavering voice, "Don't you dare hurt any of them!"

"Or what?" Binoculars sneered. "You're in no position to bargain. How does it feel to be powerless, hmm?"

Alex bowed his head, shoulders slumping in a show of defeat while his mind raced through the possibilities. As far as he could see, Binoculars was serious about wanting him to join the Hunt Syndicate. It would provide him with a good opportunity to gain information on the inner workings of the crime organization which would fulfill his secondary mission objective. After all, "joining" the other side was a tactic that had worked with SCORPIA and Sicherheit. But how safe would his friends be without him to keep an eye on things? He supposed that would depend on how badly Binoculars wanted him to join. Based on the emotional attachment that the man had developed from his personality resemblance to the man's aunt alone, Alex was fairly sure he could keep his friends unharmed for at least a little while longer. Hopefully, his distress signal was actually doing some good and the intelligence agencies hadn't just decided to ignore it. In addition, with his command of the kidnapping team, Binoculars clearly had some power. But not quite at the top since the man still had to report to the higher ups earlier, one of which Alex assumed was the Commander David that had been mentioned. Probably David Hunt, the leader of the Hunt Syndicate. The other thing that caught his attention was the use of "Commander" and the way that the kidnapping team had saluted Binoculars, almost like they were in the military. It gave him confidence that the gang members were disciplined enough to actually follow orders. So, best case scenario, he could convince Binoculars to give the order to keep the gang away from his friends. At least until backup arrived. If the intelligence agencies had decided to ignore his distress call, perhaps he could keep them safe long enough for him to obtain the information and get them out of this place himself. Coming to this conclusion within a few seconds, Alex raised his head again and quietly asked, "Is that how you always felt without your aunt? Powerless because no one would listen?"

The man sighed wistfully. "Perceptive. My aunt always knew just what to say to get to the heart of the matter too. You'd do well in an information gathering role."

Licking his lips nervously, Alex asked, "If I agree to join you, the Hunt Syndicate, will you leave my friends alone? Will you make sure they remain unharmed?"

Binoculars considered him for a long moment before his expression softened slightly. "Yes, I think that can be done. As long as you cooperate, I will make sure your little friends are safe." Gesturing sharply to his kidnapping team, the man instructed, "Untie Alex. He will be coming with me to meet the commanders for approval. If a hair on any of these three is harmed, the offender will be kneecapped. Your team is capable of this much at least, yeah?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. I expect to find them in excellent condition when I return then. Alex, come with me."

Having tightened the bonds again to avoid raising suspicion just before they promptly untied him, Alex hurried to comply with Binocular's command, only sparing a backward warning glance at the girls. Sahara was still glaring but Sophia only looked at him dubiously. Their anger and distrust couldn't be helped. Although, he hoped that Sophia would be able to figure out the broad strokes of what he was trying to do. Otherwise, he was going to have trouble when it came time to free them.

Leading Alex down the stairs and out of the warehouse, Binoculars gave him an idea of what to expect. "The commanders demand respect so don't go giving them lip. You'll be punished for it and, trust me, it won't be pretty for you."

"Why do they have a rank of Commander? They're aren't military, are they?"

Binoculars beamed, pleased at his interest. "No, but the whole idea of our organization is based on the way an army operates. I'll let the higher ups explain more about that because I don't have the authority to reveal it without permission from them. But I'll tell you this. We don't have as many different ranks as a proper army. The Commanders are the highest ranking in our organization. That would be the Hunt family. Next are the Lieutenants, like me. After that, there are the Officers, like those men that kidnapped your friends. The Lieutenants and the Officers come from all types of different backgrounds and mostly carry out the spying and information gathering. All of us know, or have some idea of, what the true nature of our organization is, not just the front that we put up for the rest of the world. Everyone else in our organization are just assets. We make sure they only know enough to carry out their orders. Nothing more, nothing less. There's not much variety in their backgrounds either."

"You're proud to be a Lieutenant," Alex observed as they passed by another warehouse and some cranes. Then, he added bitterly under his breath, "Must be nice to be so high up in the organization."

Catching his words like Alex had intended, Binoculars nodded understandingly. "Yes, I am proud of my rank. It took a long time and a lot of hard work to get here. You can achieve it too. And then, you'll practically have the world at your fingertips. No one would ignore or spread rumours about you again."

"What did you have to do to be promoted to Lieutenant?"

"Offed my whole family as an initiation test to get accepted into the organization and then completed years of successful assignments for the commanders. The assignments nearly got me killed more often than not. I've got several scars to show for it too," the man answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What do you think my initiation test is going to be?" Alex asked, peering up at Binoculars warily as they weaved through a few ships in the dry docks that were in the middle of repairs.

The man shrugged. "Not sure. If you get approved, it could be anything. Depends on what tasks the commanders think you'll be good for."

"And if I don't get approved?"

Binoculars was silent for a moment. Then, he said quietly, "You'll be killed and I'll be punished for my decision to bring you in."

Alex grimaced inwardly but didn't get a chance to reply as they had stopped at a sleek, white yacht with guards stationed at the perimeters. Looking up at it, he could easily imagine the watercraft holding up to forty rooms with a swimming pool and theater room to boot. There were three decks - a lower, main, and upper. He'd probably get lost if he tried to navigate through the yacht himself. As it was, one of those guards waved them on and Alex followed his guide through the yacht and into the lounge on the main deck where thirteen people, clearly siblings, were gathered. Binoculars saluted and stood at attention, nudging for Alex to do the same. It was only after he clumsily followed suit that the tallest of the siblings spoke.

"Lieutenant, why have you brought a child to us?"

"Sir," Binoculars answered respectfully. "This boy managed to follow the children we kidnapped and knock out one of our men in a fight against a full unit. We are always on the lookout for new recruits and he has potential. I have been watching him for a week and believe the boy would do well in our organization."

All attention turned towards Alex, re-assessing their opinions. The oldest brother narrowed his eyes and said, "You may be right about that if the boy was a few years older. He is too much of a liability right now."

"Sir, with the right training to cultivate his existing skills, the boy would be a great asset to us."

"Or he would become a great asset to law enforcement," one of the sisters countered. "Considering his apparent political connections."

"I think that depends on training," another sister commented. "Especially in this boy's case. He is still young enough that we could mould him into whatever we like."

"Come here, boy," the tallest of the siblings commanded.

Hunching his shoulders a little bit and bowing his head slightly, Alex walked forward warily, heart pounding. The only thought running through his head while listening to the commanders debate his usefulness and allegiance was that he was going to be shot if they found him lacking. His body would probably never be found.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Alex."

"Sir," the man snapped. "You will call me sir or Commander. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

A beat of silence passed. "Good. Obedient, at least. My name is David Hunt and these are my brothers and sisters, who run the Hunt Syndicate with me. Most people out on the streets call me Davey or Long Fella though. Usually, only my most trusted subordinates will even know that the rank of Commander exists in our organization. Make no mistake, Alex. I do not trust you. Now, why do you want to join us?"

"I want the abuse to stop, sir. Because God knows the government isn't going to do squat to stop it."

The siblings nodded slowly. "Not unreasonable," the oldest one said. "What has our Lieutenant told you so far?"

Alex looked back at Binoculars nervously. He took it as permission to answer honestly when the man shrugged at him. "He told me you're the biggest criminal organization in the London area and you were planning on doing everything you can to make Baster the next prime minister."

"Yes, that would be the general idea," David agreed. "What most people don't know is that, instead of just being allies, our organization actually owns the Clerkenwell Syndicate. Think of it as a parent-subsidiary business relationship. Although, one where only the top dogs of the Clerkenwell Syndicate know that they are under our control. That way, no one has enough information to leak anything to the authorities unless they are high up in the command chain. We have sufficiently... insured ourselves against any betrayals there. It's worked quite well so far. And as two of the largest organizations in the area, it doesn't take much for word to get around to us that Baster was looking for someone to do a big job."

"Operation London Star began when we set Baster up to approach us with the job of forcing our current prime minister to resign from his post," the oldest brother took over. "To ensure his win in the emergency election we're inducing, we've blackmailed, bribed, and threatened anyone that has some influence. Politicians, police officers, figurehead protesters. You get the idea. For the citizens, we've launched several campaigns to plant the idea of voting for Baster in people's minds. Some of these are even subliminal messages. It's been going on for months so, as you can imagine, our campaigns have quite a bit of influence. Of course, there will always be people who resist. If they are important enough to the outcome, what do you think we do to them?"

"Kill them, sir," Alex answered quietly, stomach clenching at the scale of the operation. While Binoculars had given him the general plan, the details that he was hearing now emphasized how important it was that he succeed in his mission. Otherwise, their whole government could collapse.

"Yes," came the reply. "That is exactly what happens. We had researchers develop a new poison to use against any key opposition in this operation. It's odourless and tasteless – undetectable. All it needs is someone to slip it into the target's food or drink and then the target's insides will start liquefying. There was only just enough made for the ones we anticipated the need to poison before we killed off the researchers. No witnesses, you understand. So, you see, we can't afford to waste any of it. Do you think you could carry out that task without failing even once?"

Muscles stiffening and closing his eyes, Alex focused his thoughts on the people he had killed on his missions, flitting through them in seconds. He let each memory wash over him until he felt the same determination that had driven him in those moments. Then, he opened his eyes. "Yes."

"Hmm... interesting," David deliberated. "I think a little test is in order. Follow me. You too, Lieutenant."

As Alex was lead out of the lounge, he saw the siblings exchange smirks in his peripheral vision while Binoculars eyed his commanders uncertainly. Ice settled in his stomach with the realization that, whatever David had planned, it was probably gruesome and he might not make it out alive. Still, he followed the tall man down to a room below deck. No, it wasn't a room. It was a brig of sorts with eight dogs behind locked prison bars, growling menacingly at the sight of them. Feral eyes tracked their every move.

"Do you know what breed these are?" David asked.

"No," Alex replied. "But I suspect you'll tell me."

Binoculars shot him a warning look as annoyance flashed across the commander's face.

"Norwegian elkhounds," David continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "They are hunters of large game. And while they tend to have a friendly disposition, they gain weight rapidly so must not be overfed and my habit of starving them until their next hunt has turned them into something quite wild. Of course, their meals consisting mostly of human flesh might have something to do with it too."

Alex stared at the commander as Binoculars paled at the implications.

"Yes," David said, lips curling in amusement at their reactions. "My hounds help me get rid of bodies without leaving a trace of evidence. You see, my siblings and I have always been fascinated with myths and legends. We were especially interested in the Wild Hunt. And not just because of our surname. The idea of being feared and respected, of being unseen as we worked, was enticing. So, our organization was founded on certain aspects of the Wild Hunt. Things like military rankings, death if our members try to leave, and keeping our activities hidden so no one has enough evidence to blame us for anything. Any of our members who try to leave us are burned alive. We have a cremation business to cover these up. But, besides any assassinations we might do, anyone else I want to kill off are given to my hounds. Either solely for the body to be disposed of or eaten alive. Now, I don't want to kill you off. But I do want to see how well you would do in the field. So, you are going to be locked inside that prison cell with my hounds for the rest of the night. And since my Lieutenant was so hasty in bringing you into the fold and seems to be fond of you, his punishment will be to personally put you in that cell himself. If you die, that's no loss to me and it will serve as a reminder to everyone, like my Lieutenant, that children are liabilities. If you live, then I will welcome you into the Hunt Syndicate with open arms."

Looking at each other warily, Alex and Binoculars grimaced. "Sorry, kid," Binoculars said before striding forward to throw Alex into the cell, locking it once again.

"Árás!" David ordered. (Attack!)

Immediately, the hounds howled in glee and pounced. Alex jumped at the last second to avoid their teeth, making three of the dogs crash into each other. Desperately, he ducked another hound's snapping jaws as he pressed the top left button on his watch to take out the hidden flashlight and diamond-edged blade that Smithers had put in, thankful that the dogs were concealing his movements and that his clothes were made to withstand bullets when a hound bit his shoulder. Even so, the force behind the teeth exerted enough pressure to make him cry out in pain.

"See you in the morning, Alex," the commander smirked as he sauntered back up to the lounge.

"This is my fault," Binoculars said regretfully as he watched Alex shouting at the hound and struggling to throw it off. "Maybe this time, I'll actually learn that everything good I touch ends in some way or another. And don't bother trying to control the hounds with commands. They only respond to Icelandic. Even that is only when Commander David gives the order. I doubt you'll make it out of this alive. Goodbye, Alex. It was good to meet you."

With that, Binoculars turned away and followed his commander back up, leaving Alex to the hunting hounds. As soon as the man was out of sight, he shone the flashlight into the hounds' eyes, blinding them momentarily to give himself enough time to jump out of their jaws' reach. Latching onto the prison bars, he swiftly climbed his way up to the top, which was made more difficult by the pain from the bites he had sustained so far. Even though the skin hadn't been punctured, the strain of using his feet and one arm to keep supporting himself into a horizontal position at the top made the nastiest bruises he'd ever experienced very apparent to him while the hounds barked and pawed at the bars. The strain on his body, the fear of being eaten alive. It was like the crocodiles all over again. Except this time, he knew how to save himself.

With his free hand, Alex put away the flashlight and pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking aim. Within seconds, three of the hounds were put to sleep and the remaining ones were worked into a frenzy at the sight of their unconscious companions, leaping in an attempt to get at him. Reloading the phone twice more, Alex put the rest of the hounds to sleep as well before dropping back down to the ground. He had used up all of his tranquilizer darts and hoped that he wouldn't need any more tonight. If he did need more, he would just have to get creative. Better take more drastic measures with the gang members than do it to the hounds that didn't have a choice, Alex thought as he used the lock picks concealed in his watch to break out of the cell. As soon as he was out, he made sure to lock up so the hounds couldn't escape when they woke up. Then, he stilled, listening for any sign that someone had been alerted to his escape.

Hearing none, Alex searched the other rooms, diamond-edged blade clutched tightly in one hand. The first few rooms held nothing much of interest. Just supplies to keep the yacht well-stocked and running smoothly, including sleeping areas for the crew and a kitchen for the chef. None of these were occupied. However, the next few rooms were locked. He made short work of them with the lock picks and found that they were mostly offices and a weapons room. Quickly rifling through the rooms, Alex snatched up anything that seemed useful. A blueprint, some research notes on the poison, and a pocket calendar went into the waistband of his trousers, settled against his back. He chose a fully loaded Sig Sauer P365 to replace the blade in his hand. Small enough to hide, but it had a ten-round capacity which should be plenty to defend himself with at the moment.

Towards the last few rooms, Alex found the poisons. In fact, it was a roomful of different hazardous substances and he recognized many of them from his training with SCORPIA. Hesitating for a moment, he shrugged and stuffed a few vials of poison that he recognized into one of Smithers' special hidden pockets in his dress pants. Then, he turned towards the new poisons that the Hunt Syndicate had the researchers develop. Alex decided to keep two of those vials too. Whether it was for evidence, research, or future personal use, he wasn't quite sure yet. The rest needed to be destroyed. It only took him a few seconds to figure out a plan.

When Alex left the room, he went back to the supplies and pulled on a uniform to make himself less conspicuous. Then, he went back to the brig and put life jackets on each of the hounds, loading them up into a large bucket. Melting into the shadows, he crept up to the main deck to hear that the siblings were still on board and ducked into an empty cabin, gently lowering the bucket into the water through a window and checking the positions of the perimeter guards. There were four of them facing the docks instead of towards the yacht, just as expected - two at the middle where Alex and Binoculars had boarded and one at each end of the watercraft. The two at the end were switching off with their replacements, clearly at the end of their shifts and distracted by their own conversation. Perfect. Swiftly exiting the cabin, Alex tucked the Sig Sauer away, ripped off the top button of his dress shirt and pressed the top right button on his watch, timing the five second fuse. Trusting that the uniform and apparent confidence would identify him as an employee and delay their responses, he walked down the plank towards the middle guards. Alex tossed the button their way, just as they started to turn towards him, and surged forward to knock both of them out as soon as they were engulfed in smoke. At the same time, the yacht exploded, taking care of the end guards and killing anyone inside. He knew no one inside the yacht could have survived an explosion of that magnitude.

Alex hissed as flaming debris struck him between his shoulder blades and he immediately rolled on the ground to put it out before too much damage could be done. Grimacing while he gingerly dusted himself off, Alex supposed he only had himself to blame for these burns. Before leaving the poisons room, he had ripped off the bottom button of his dress shirt and strategically placed several flammable substances around it, pouring bunker fuel over everything for good measure. He knew that there was a chance he'd be caught in the explosion as well but took the risk anyways. It provided his escape, destroyed the poisons, and took out the Hunt Syndicate's leadership. And he was still alive. Overall, not a bad job in meeting his objectives.

Looking towards the water, Alex was reassured that the hounds were still alive so focused on getting back to John and the girls. The explosion would have drawn attention and alerted the other gang members that something was wrong which meant he was running out of time. Following the mental map that Binoculars' tour had created, Alex pulled out the gun again, ducked out of sight of the gang members who were running towards the destroyed yacht, and darted through the maze of warehouses until he was back at the one that held his friends. He kept to the shadows and slipped in, closing his eyes to listen for any sign of more gang members. The four kidnappers - the one he had knocked unconscious had clearly woken now - were still stationed outside the offices, arguing about whether or not to just kill their hostages and get out of the country, but Alex didn't detect anyone else's presence. Just as he was considering the best method to take out the kidnappers, one of them yelled out their decision in anger and yanked open the office door. Alex didn't think. He shot four times and four bodies hit the ground, each with a bullet through the heart.

Sprinting up to the office, Alex sighed in relief when he saw John and the girls sitting on a couple of chairs in front of the desk. They seemed to be alright, if a little panicked.

"UNCLE ALEX!" John cried, running to him before the girls could stop the child. "You're okay! I was so scared!"

"Hey, buddy. It's okay," Alex said softly as he pulled John into a hug to comfort the boy while using the diamond-edged blade to cut through the child's bonds. "Anyone hurt?"

"No," Sophia shook her head warily.

"Good. Now, toss those ropes and let's get out of here!"

"And why should we trust you?!" Sahara shouted defiantly even as Sophia followed his instructions. "You joined up with a bunch of criminals! You just shot those people!"

"Sahara, there's something called acting and self-defence," Alex replied tightly. "Do you want to get out of here or not? Cause we don't have time for explanations and your yelling is going to attract the gang's attention."

"Fine," Sahara glared at him before slipping out of her bonds. "Only because Sophia seems to think it's a good idea for now."

"Wait," Sophia called out as they started towards the door. "We heard the kidnappers talking outside and there's some more hostages in the next door office."

Alex swore in his head, mindful of John's presence, and closed his eyes briefly. "Okay, just in case there's trouble, stay in here while I free the other hostages so that you aren't in the immediate line of fire. Sahara, now would be a good time to keep that letter opener ready in your hand."

Without waiting for a response, Alex rushed over to the other office and tried the door. It was locked. Hoping no one was too close to the other side of the door, he kicked it in to find a mother and her ten year old child bound and gagged, tears streaming down their faces in fear.

"It's okay," he told them in a soothing voice. "I'm going to free you but we're going to have to run. Can I come closer?"

The mother nodded nervously. Striding over to them, Alex took the gags out of their mouths first, introduced himself, and asked for their names as he cut their bonds.

"Melanie Baster," the mother whispered in answer to his question. "And this is my son. Please, those people, they injected us with something when they kidnapped us tonight. They said it was a tracker."

Alex froze for a second and heaved a sigh. Baster's family hadn't attended any of the activities in the last week so, clearly, the protection around them wasn't as strong as it would have been and they were now being used as an insurance policy to make Baster cooperate. Brilliant. He had two more important people to protect. "Okay, let's get both of you out of here first, Mrs. Baster. We can deal with the tracker later. Stay behind me."

Cautiously exiting the office, Alex made sure the coast was clear before beckoning for his friends and Baster's family to come out. Everyone, except Alex, blanched at the four dead bodies and carefully skirted them, looking sick. However, just as they were descending the stairs, a pair of German shepherds bounded into the warehouse, barking constantly as they headed straight for them with teeth bared. Cursing softly, Alex herded his charges back up. They couldn't go down. The dogs would tear them apart. In addition, the gang members would not be far behind the guard dogs so barricading themselves in the office was out of the question. But there were six large pallets of canned fish pushed together down below, a few feet away from the railing. He darted into the rooms and collected the chairs from both offices while yelling, "Climb onto the railing and jump! Aim for that pallet!"

" What?!" Sophia exclaimed just as Mrs. Baster fearfully shouted, "Are you crazy?!"

"Just do it! Unless you want to be bitten! I'll slow them down!"

Alex threw a chair at the dogs before they could reach the foot of the stairs, scattering and forcing them back to buy some time. The German shepherds kept approaching them after dodging the chair, but more careful now, and Baster's son was the first to follow his directions. The boy scrambled onto the railing with all the reckless bravery that could only belong to a child of his age and jumped before his mother could grab him. Terrified for her child, Mrs. Baster did the same as Alex threw another chair at the dogs. A moment later, Sahara jumped as well but Sophia was frozen with fear and John was too small to make it on his own.

"Sophia, you have to jump!" Alex yelled, chucking another chair even further than the last one to drive the dogs back.

"I can't! I won't make it!" Sophia shouted, eyes wild and shaking her head.

Making a split second decision, Alex shoved the last chair into Sophia's hands. "You trusted me in your ballet sessions to do the overhead lift. Do you trust me now?" he said hurriedly. She nodded hesitantly. "Okay, I'll jump with John and I want you to throw the chair as hard as you can at the same time. Then, I want you to jump. I'll catch you."

"Okay," she replied shakily.

Immediately, Alex swooped John into his arms and leaped over the railing, using a hand to pivot as he controlled his fall. He sank low into his crouch when he landed, minimizing the impact, and handed John over to Sahara. Turning to face Sophia, he called up to her. "Your turn!"

Unsteadily, Sophia climbed onto the railing and jumped. The terror on her face turned to relief when he caught her and she sagged against him. But he had no time to comfort her or anyone else. While the dogs could no longer reach them, the gang members could as they had finally reached the warehouse. The four men instantly looked in the direction of their dogs' gaze as they barked at Alex and his charges. Even though they were bewildered by their targets' position, the men never faltered as unskilled, small time criminals might. They wasted no time in pointing their guns at them but Alex was faster. In the next second, the gang members were dead, much like their comrades at the top of the stairs, and the dogs howled but kept their distance. While there was a brief respite from the immediate danger, Alex only had two more bullets left and felt a wave of despair overcome him as he heard more people fast approaching, the sound of the gunshots having drawn their attention.

"Lie flat on your stomachs as close to the middle as possible," Alex instructed everyone, trying to exude a calm that he didn't feel. "It'll make you a smaller target for them to hit at this height. And stay quiet no matter what happens."

"Since you got us this far," Sahara muttered reluctantly as they obeyed him.

Ignoring her comment, Alex followed his own advice and lay on his stomach too. However, rather than laying in the middle of the pallet, he was in the prone shooting position at the edge. A second later, he felt a little bit of hope rise in him. He could still hear a lot of footsteps approaching but heavy gunfire and shouting had started. That only meant one thing. Someone was attacking the Hunt Syndicate. Likely the intelligence agencies, considering the night's kidnappings, but he couldn't be absolutely certain. In any case, it bought them some more time.

Soon, a group of gang members burst into the warehouse. Some were wounded and Alex drew back a little. After checking to see if the coast was clear, they scrambled for cover between other pallets of canned goods and the machinery, trying to stem the flow of blood with makeshift bandages. It didn't take long for their attackers to catch up to them. Alex nearly let out a sigh of relief as he recognized Agent Williams from the Sicherheit mission and an MI5 operative that had been at Downing Street the whole week among the attackers cautiously entering the warehouse. The first shot came from one of the gang members. That was all it took for the warehouse to be turned into a battlefield. Gunshots sounded all around them. Sometimes there was a break, sometimes he wondered if it would ever end. When some of them ran out of ammunition, they turned to grabbing anything as a weapon or fighting with their hands.

Still, Alex lie in wait. He didn't want to waste those last two bullets or give away their position. If that happened, there was no way he would be able to shield five people all at once. It was only when some new gang members entered the warehouse, about to kill off the outnumbered MI5 operative, that he fired once. As soon as he pulled the trigger, Alex moved back further towards the middle of the pallets without checking to see if he hit his target. He already knew he did. Listening to his surroundings, there was a pause before the fight resumed and he gathered that the intelligence agents were bolstered by the conclusion both sides had come to. That there was a sniper on the intelligence side. But just as he had predicted, the shot had given away his position and one of the gang members slipped through enough to go up the stairs.

"Stay down," he hissed to the others, shooting the last bullet as he got to his feet. It was time for him to move. He didn't want to endanger the politicians' families. Hopefully, the gang members would think he had been the only person atop the pallets. Jumping off and knocking a gang member down, he was pulled into the battle as soon as he hit the ground. Somehow, Alex ended up fighting three gang members simultaneously. Individually, they were well trained for a local gang but, as a group, they were unorganized and lacked cohesion. It was a short but challenging match.

No sooner had Alex downed the last man and mentally thanked the SAS for their training, a bullet slammed into the middle of his lower back. He gasped for breath in pain and collapsed to the floor, pretending to be dead so the gang members wouldn't start taking head shots. Ash had made that mistake in Mdina and Alex wasn't going to repeat it. He was just glad that the shot had hit low enough for the remaining part of his intact bulletproof dress shirt to protect him from the worst even if there would be a nasty, deep bruise where he'd been hit. Closing his eyes, he listened to the fight and heard footsteps coming towards him.

"You did this," he heard Binoculars say disbelievingly. "You – a schoolboy – escaped Commander David's personal hellhounds, killed off the whole Hunt family, and destroyed the poison. HOW?!" The last word wasn't so much shouted as screamed. "Decades of hard work gone in an instant because of you!"

Behind his eyelids, Alex sensed Binoculars raising a gun. Without waiting, he rolled to his feet, dodging the bullet at the same time, and managed to disarm his attacker before the man recovered from his shock. Still, the lieutenant reacted faster than he was expecting and Alex cried out as his right arm was smashed hard enough against the machinery that he could feel the bone fracture, possibly break. The gun clattered to the floor. Kicking out at Binoculars to keep the weapon out of reach, he sent the man toppling into the pack of German shepherds that had joined the battle sometime ago. Alex looked away as Binoculars met the same fate that David Hunt had intended for him earlier that night. He was pleased to see that the intelligence agents had rounded up most of the gang members and the battle was drawing to a close.

"Rider!" Agent Williams called out, walking to him, as some others subdued the dogs and salvaged the mangled body in the process. "Good to see you're still alive. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Might have broken something though," Alex replied, gesturing to his right arm.

Williams grimaced and clapped him on the shoulder, making Alex fight a wince. "We'll get you to St. Dominic's soon then. Good work tonight, by the way! That was you shooting up there, right?"

Alex nodded.

"You saved my life with that shot," the MI5 agent strolled up beside him. "I guess I owe you one."

Shaking his head, Alex said, "No problem. You would have done the same for me. At least, I hope so."

"Of course I would! Sworn to protect the country and all that. I'll admit, I thought you'd get yourself killed, throwing yourself into the fight like that. But you're clearly trained. You could come work for us when you're older." The agent grinned and held out a hand to him. "Gary Cooper, MI5 liaison to MI6 and GCHQ. If you ever need a favor, just ask."

"Alex Rider. Technically MI6," Alex shook Cooper's hand.

"MI6? Technically? How old are you?!"

"It's complicated," Alex grimaced. "Anyways, we should probably get the hostages back to Downing Street, right?"

The men nodded so Alex called out to the girls. After assuring them that it was safe to come out, explaining who everyone was, and instructing them in what was happening next, he helped get the politicians' families down from the pallets. Just as the last person came down, Alex saw two black cars pull up in front of the warehouse. Mrs. Jones and Barker got out of their respective vehicles. He sighed and the girls had to pry John away with his promises that the child would see him again. Then, Alex trudged over to the heads of the intelligence agencies. Wordlessly reaching into the back of his waistband, he pulled out the documents from the yacht and handed them to Mrs. Jones.

Accepting his offering, Jones said quietly, "When we got the distress signal, I had Smithers hack into your phone again to listen and record everything. This plot, Operation London Star, targeting the Prime Minister was much worse than we anticipated. We had some difficulty calling in enough people to deal with the situation here, and at Downing Street, on such short notice."

"What about the other MI5 operatives that have been at Downing Street all week?" Alex asked.

A flash of annoyance crossed Barker's face. "Most of my agents decided to drink tonight and were easily knocked out by the Hunt Syndicate. That's why you were on your own. They'll be fired in the morning. You did well," Barker told him reluctantly.

"I hear your arm needs medical attention though. And those burns don't look too good either," Mrs. Jones pursed her lips as Barker went to give out orders for the rest of the agents. "Go wait by that car. Williams will drive you to St. Dominic's to get those looked at. Baster's wife and child will follow in another vehicle to get their trackers safely removed as well so don't think you're being tailed by an enemy. After you are discharged, I will be debriefing you in the Prime Minister's office. The analysts need to go through these documents before we have a better picture and the Prime Minister should hear what has been going on."

Alex nodded and reached into his hidden pocket. Pulling out one vial of the new poison, he held it out and said, "Your analysts might want to take a look at this to see if they can create an antidote. I destroyed the rest but kept this sample, just in case."

She took the vial from him. "Thank you, Alex. Was the explosion necessary though?" Jones said blandly.

He shrugged. "I don't know enough about it to tell if it can be destroyed some other way."

"Very well. More lessons are in order then. Anything else we need to know before you go to the hospital?"

"The elkhounds. I sedated them and put them in a bucket before setting off the explosions. They're still floating around the water somewhere. You should probably keep them sedated until they can be safely contained and trained to be less aggressive. They only listen to Icelandic commands."

Jones nodded. "I'll have them found. Go wait for Williams."

Alex walked over to the car that Jones had pointed out to him. Leaning against the vehicle, he tiredly watched the agents clean up the operation but still paid attention. He was sure that, someday, he might be required to do the same and take care of the loose ends. Sensing John and the girls approaching, Alex looked up and waited for the girls to speak as he stroked the child's hair. John had wrapped his arms around, and buried his head in, Alex's leg.

"So...you're a spy," Sahara started nervously, pacing back and forth. "And I accused you of betraying everyone when all you were trying to do was protect us. I feel so stupid now! I was a complete bitch to you. Stop smiling! Why aren't you angry? You've saved my life twice now and I'm supposed to be your friend but I jumped to conclusions and thought the worst of you!"

Alex laughed, relieved that they were taking the news well. "Relax, Sahara. It does sting a bit but I suppose it's not exactly unexpected. After all, it's my job to deceive."

"Well, your job sucks," she complained. "When did you start working as a spy anyways? It can't be legal! Wait, were you a spy back at Gunpoint? Was your uncle?"

"I started after Ian died on the job. Before that, I had no idea about any of this but I think Ian's mission at Gunpoint was to make sure the information on your dad's laptop didn't fall into the wrong hands," Alex answered patiently.

"So, when I was joking about you saving people's lives on a regular basis," Sophia chimed in, "it was true?"

Alex shrugged, looking away. He didn't want to think about how often he had been called in for missions. Or how often trouble seemed to find him.

Sophia smiled softly and shifted the subject. "Thank you, Alex. For tonight and everything else that you have done so far. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."

He shook his head. "You can both thank me by not telling your parents about my spying career until I've told them myself. Sophia should be good to tell them in a day or two. I'm not sure about your parents though, Sahara."

The girls looked at him strangely for a moment. Then, Sophia nodded while Sahara said, "Okay, we won't tell them then. But we're still going to think of some other ways to thank you."

Smiling faintly, Alex thanked them for agreeing to the secrecy and pried John away again with the girls' help as he spotted Williams heading towards the car. Saying their goodbyes, it took him another few minutes before he was good to go. He spent the ride to St. Dominic's with Williams in comfortable silence. Both of them were too tired to make conversation but, when they arrived at the hospital, Williams went in with him to explain their presence to the staff. It helped that the man had some official ID. As a nurse lead Alex to an examination room, the agent left to do some more clean up work.

Within a few minutes, a doctor came in to see him. Being a hospital for the military and the wealthy, the doctor was used to people like Alex, who couldn't reveal much of anything without breaking the OSA, so didn't push for answers when Alex disjointedly recounted the events of the night that resulted in his injuries even if he was intensely curious. After answering all the required check up questions, Alex stripped off his clothes for the doctor to look over his wounds and was shocked to find black bruises where the elkhounds had bitten him. There were purple ones too. Some of those were layered underneath the black ones on his shoulders and others were littered across his back and arms from the fight. The darkest purple bruise came from the bullet he had taken to the lower back, right in the middle. He knew he was lucky the impact hadn't damaged his spinal cord. And like he had expected, there were second degree burns between his shoulder blades and light bruising on his knees as well as the sole of his foot too. The doctor took all of this in, alongside his old scars, with a raised eyebrow but otherwise said nothing. It was only after each bruise had been examined that the doctor called in a nurse. Alex was to get an x-ray for his right arm, plenty of ice applied to his bruises with a prescribed dose of vitamin C for faster healing, and antibiotic cream applied to his burns. The x-ray that Alex was ushered off to only took ten minutes. Then, he returned to the examination room, where the nurse fussed over him as he lay on his stomach. He shivered a bit when the ice touched his bruised skin and winced as the antibiotic cream was applied but accepted the dose of vitamin C without a word. Once he was settled, the doctor walked in with the x-ray images and explained it to him, pointing out where the fracture was. It wasn't a bad one, all things considered, but it would still need a splint for a couple of weeks. Within an hour, the splint was put on and the doctor had decided his bruises had been iced for long enough. He was discharged with bandaged shoulders and walked out of St. Dominic's to the beginnings of a sunrise gleaming off a car waiting to take him back to Downing Street.

When he arrived at the government headquarters, Mrs. Jones led him through the sea of agents that were milling about in an effort to restore some order, explain the official story for the situation, and calm down the politicians and their families. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Alex saw Baster being detained by a pair of intelligence agents. He guessed they were MI5, seeing as this was purely a domestic threat. The Labour Party leader did not take well to being detained and caused a ruckus about it, drawing the attention of all the other politicians. None of them moved to question it, preferring to stand aside.

Baster and the agents passed by Alex on the way out and he couldn't help but mutter just loud enough for the man to hear, "I guess your name says all we need to know, you slimy bastard."

The man snarled and tried to lunge at Alex, even while the pair of agents restrained him with suppressed smirks. Jones just coughed and beckoned him to follow her as Baster was hauled away. Shrugging in response, Alex let Jones lead him to the Prime Minister's office, where the man himself was waiting for them.

"Mrs. Jones, Alex," the Prime Minister greeted with guarded eyes. "Have a seat."

They sat in the indicated seats in front of the desk and waited for the Prime Minister to speak again. The man spent a long moment examining Alex but could find no answers in the young, blank face. There was no trace of the teenage traits that he had become accustomed to seeing in the boy this past week, only that of an experienced professional. He rubbed his temples in an attempt to soothe the hangover he had and get rid of the headache that the latest national security matters brought. It didn't do much good.

Sighing, the Prime Minister said, "Mrs. Jones has replayed the recording of last night's events for me so I am somewhat up to date on what is happening. I suppose I should thank you, Alex, for rescuing my daughter and the families of my colleagues. However, in the future, I would ask that I be fully informed of any threats and the agents that you have placed in my circle, Mrs. Jones."

The man gave a very pointed look which Jones ignored. Instead, she replied monotonously, "This was a domestic matter so you will have to take it up with Richard about not being fully informed as this was his operation. I only supplied an agent as a favour to MI5."

"Very well," the Prime Minister accepted reluctantly while Alex suppressed a grin at Jones passing the blame. "I will still require the same of you in the future though. It would be quite inappropriate if the Permanent Secretary is continuously better informed on national security than the Prime Minister."

"Naturally."

Seeing that he wasn't going to be getting anywhere else with this, the Prime Minister switched topics by saying in a hard voice, "Speaking of supplying an agent, I would also quite like to know why the intelligence services are using a minor to do their work. There are child labour laws to uphold and this is completely unacceptable, in a legal and moral standpoint."

This was the confrontation that Jones had wanted the mission to lead up to and she was prepared, even if Alex hadn't given it much thought. "There were extenuating circumstances that led to Alex working for MI6's Special Operations division," she explained. "It started almost two years ago when Alan Blunt, my predecessor, recruited Alex as a last resort. The Prime Minister at the time accepted it due to the unusualness of the situations that he was made aware of. However, your most recent predecessor did not accept it so Alan was forced into early retirement. Since taking over Alan's position, I have done my best to keep Alex out of this business but he attracts trouble too easily and he made powerful enemies in his time with us. It is up to Alex what he wants to do now."

"I see," the Prime Minister said quietly. "Be that as it may, he is still a minor and you will not use him again. Not until he reaches the age of majority. If you continue to use him, I will have you replaced. Do you understand?"

"I cannot do that," Jones replied firmly. "Alex is legally emancipated and has chosen to continue working for Special Operations. He will be sixteen in just over a couple of months which will make his employment legal and he is well within his rights to choose so. Since there is nothing wrong with his abilities and he has a record of top job performance, there are grounds for an age discrimination case if we refuse this right."

The Prime Minister clenched his jaw. While her argument wasn't strong, neither was it weak. Even though allowing the employment to occur would cause a public outcry, the courts could still rule either way. It would depend on the circumstances and the boy in question, who hadn't said anything about this whole affair yet. Taking a deep breath, he tersely requested, "I would like to speak to Alex for a few minutes. Alone."

Jones hesitated, then briskly nodded once and rose from her seat, going outside to wait until she was called in again. After she left, Alex watched as the Prime Minister took a few moments to calm himself. Jones had laid the foundation for their case. This was his cue to build upon it.

Once the Prime Minister was calm, the man fixed him with a cool gaze and asked, "Was anything about this past week real? Your friendship with my daughter, our conversations, your personality - anything?"

"Unless it was directly related to the protection of you and your family, or about my past with MI6, everything was real," Alex answered quietly. "I am Sophia's friend. I just couldn't tell you why I was here. This Christmas gathering was a security nightmare, an assassin's dream, especially because we didn't know where an attack would take place. Mrs. Jones positioned me close to your family because the agents you had as bodyguards were too conspicuous. She thought that having me undercover as a sleeper agent of sorts would add an extra layer of security."

"You're just a child!" the man protested. "Even if you are a very capable one. Jones and Barker still shouldn't have kept me in the dark about any of this."

Alex leaned forward. "Let me ask you a question. If you had known that I was an agent, would you have treated me differently?"

The Prime Minister opened his mouth to answer but paused and frowned, crinkling his forehead. "Yes, I would never have trusted you."

Sitting back again, Alex said, "Exactly. Anyone with enough training would be able to pick up on it and your reactions to me alone would have blown my cover, making me useless to you in an attack."

"Fine," the Prime Minister huffed out, conceding to his point. "But they should have still let me know the severity of the threat."

"We didn't know how serious it was. Mr. Barker had only received reports that the Hunt Syndicate was involved. We didn't even know if there were traitors inside this building."

Letting out a sigh, the man fell silent, deep in thought. Eventually, he said, "From the recording I heard, I owe you a lot. Not just for rescuing my daughter but for preventing a coup as well. So, thank you. But, I have to ask. Why you?"

Alex shrugged. "I suppose my age makes it easier to get closer to your family."

"And your previous...dealings with MI6?"

Examining the Prime Minister, Alex pondered on how to answer that question. There were so many things he could say about his past missions. Finally, he went with, "My uncle trained me for this as soon as I could walk and my age allows me to go places where adults cannot. It was useful when they ran out of options."

"... How did you get started in this business in the first place?"

Here, Alex considered his possibilities. Answer truthfully or twist it so that it sounded more consensual? There was a time when he would have given anything to answer truthfully to someone high up enough that was willing to help him get out from under Blunt's thumb. Now though... he considered which one would make the Prime Minister accept his employment more easily. Alex made his decision and said, "Blackmail. My American guardian was going to get deported if I didn't take that first mission."

Horrified, the Prime Minister asked, "And you still want to work for them?!"

Alex gave him a cold smile that almost made the man flinch. "That was under Mr. Blunt. Trust me, if he was still the head, I would not set foot in this country again unless absolutely necessary to survive, let alone offer my services."

"What changed?" the Prime Minister asked cautiously.

Sighing, Alex answered tiredly, "I got out of the business earlier this year and moved to America. My... retirement... lasted two months. And then, the enemies I'd made caught up to me. MI6 was in a better position to negotiate with the criminal organizations than the CIA so I came back here. After that, I became entangled with another security threat and realized that I couldn't just stand by and do nothing anymore. Not when I know I can help. I've served for roughly one year. It's changed me and I don't fit in with civilians anymore. There is no going back for me."

The Prime Minister nodded, slowly starting to understand the boy in front of him. He couldn't imagine what the teen had been through but was very familiar with the difficulties that veterans often had with becoming a civilian once more. "Why go back to an organization that treated you so badly though? If you wanted to serve the country, you could have gone into the army or become a police officer."

"I know. The CIA or ASIS would be glad to have me too. I've gotten offers from both before. So, I know there are plenty of options for me but this is my country and intelligence is where I belong. Besides, Mrs. Jones was always better than Mr. Blunt in their treatment of me. I can work with Mrs. Jones. We've already been negotiating employment terms." Alex offered the man a lopsided grin. "If you want to thank me for the work I did last night, you could just let me make my own decisions and continue working for MI6."

Shaking his head, the Prime Minister said, "Fine. I'll let you decide your own career. But if they try to force you into the job, I want you to come to me with it."

Alex thanked the man and Jones was called back in. She looked to Alex first and was satisfied to see the small nod he gave her, indicating their success.

"Mrs. Jones," the Prime Minister addressed his spymaster. "Alex can be employed by Special Operations as long as he agrees to it. However, there better be no more underage employees in service to this country. I will be keeping a close eye on this matter. Also, I want Alex's file so that I can see the extent of his involvement so far."

Jones nodded. "You will have his file by tonight."

"Good. Now, let's talk about what we have so far on this attempted coup."

Because listening wasn't the same as experiencing, the next hour was spent debriefing and going over the details of last night's events that Alex had seen and heard. At the end of it, Jones and the Prime Minister discussed different ways that they could deal with the aftermath. Somewhere between arguing about whether or not to tell the truth to Baster's family and what measures needed to be taken to deal with the Hunt Syndicate, the talk turned to the documents that Alex had filched from the yacht.

"The analysts have gone through that pocket calendar. It belonged to David Hunt. There are meetings, events, and notes in the margins that detail plans for the next two years. Among those, the analysts have identified several phases left in the Hunt Syndicate's plans," Jones told them. "Those phases involve Baster's family being put at risk in order to force a relaxation of anti-racketeering laws, something you have been trying to tighten up, Prime Minister. Baster's family should be warned and told the truth so they can't be used so easily against us."

"Are they trustworthy enough to reveal what we know?" the Prime Minister asked.

"They were kidnapped and injected with trackers," Jones answered coldly. "That would not have been needed if they were willing participants in the Hunt Syndicate's plans. As it is, even Baster never realized how in over his head he was until last night."

Sighing, the Prime Minister agreed to Baster's family being told the truth. However, the official story given to the public and the rest of the politicians was settled to be a kidnapping gone wrong that was targeted towards Baster for the politician's drug debts. The intelligence agencies already had people planting evidence in Baster's home to support the story even while they searched for more evidence of the man's true involvement with the Hunt Syndicate. With that decided, they turned their attention to the expectations of the crime organization's future.

"Thanks to the secretive nature of the Hunt family preventing anyone from fully knowing how to run the organization and Alex's explosion killing off the leaders, the analysts think that both the Hunt and Clerkenwell Syndicates are close to collapsing." Jones revealed. "Even so, some of their lieutenants could still have enough information on the plans to try something and the collapse means a very large space needs to be filled in London's criminal underworld. That space will lead to a war as other gangs fight for the vacated leadership positions and the businesses. I imagine there will be infighting amongst the surviving lieutenants as well. Richard will need to keep a close eye on the development of London's crime organizations and identify the likely successors."

The Prime Minister froze for a moment while running a hand through his hair and Alex frowned at Jones' expectations. He had never thought about the consequences of getting rid of the leaders of such a big organization. But now that Jones had mentioned it, the possibility of the resulting chaos was a very likely one. He could almost see the future casualties piling up.

"You think a gang war is likely?" the Prime Minister asked.

"No," Jones answered. "It is not just likely. Some of the crime syndicate's members escaped capture last night. I have no doubt that the war already started as soon as news of the Hunt family's deaths circulated throughout the city."

"I shouldn't have set off the explosion then," Alex said quietly. "I've made everything worse."

Both of the adults looked at him. Shaking her head, Jones replied, "Actually, there was no right or wrong answer to this at the time of the explosion. If you hadn't done it, we could be dealing with the potential deaths of several key politicians and a complete collapse of government. Now, we are facing the uncertain state of criminal politics with a high possibility of civilian casualties. However, you may have provided us with an important opportunity to influence the direction of the gang war and what alliances are formed which will help minimize the casualties and dictate the future of the city's criminal activities."

"... I never thought about that," Alex frowned. "Any of this."

Jones smiled faintly at him, amused. "You will get better with experience. As it is, we had high expectations of you and you have exceeded it. After all, you did manage to protect five family members of three different politicians, bring back vital information, and take down two criminal organizations in one night."

Alex stared at her. "That sounds better than what it feels like," he muttered.

The Prime Minister laughed lightly at his comment and got to his feet. "Well, I believe that concludes our meeting for now. I expect Alex's file tonight and another update when the analysts have finished their work and this whole operation is wrapped up."

"Of course," Jones said. "Richard will give you the final debriefing."

They shook hands with the Prime Minister and left the office in silence. As they reached the entrance hall, Alex heard a soft pattering of running feet and looked down just in time to swing John up into his arms, the Adair men approaching at a more leisurely pace with a grin on each of their faces. Sophia, Sahara, and Mr. Sands were not far behind.

"Uncle Alex!" John shouted happily, arms wrapped around Alex's neck. "You got us away from the bad men, just like you promised! Where were you? I missed you!"

"You saw me last night!" Alex laughed, clutching the child to him in relief that John didn't seem to have any adverse psychological effects from the kidnapping.

"Yeah, but that was hours ago! You didn't see me play with the Legos! Look, I made this for you!"

Taking the proffered figurine of what Alex guessed was a replica of himself, he ruffled John's hair and said, "Thanks, buddy. It looks great! I missed you too."

"Are you staying?" John asked.

"Er... Sorry, kid. I can't. I'm going to be busy for a while," Alex answered, aware that the rest of the group was looking at him intently.

"When will you be back?" John asked.

"I'm not sure," Alex said quietly.

"You will come for John's birthday party though, right?" James chimed in. "It's in July."

"Come on," Graham joined in, seeing Alex's hesitation and guessing the reason for it. "Don't go blaming yourself for what happened last night. It wasn't your fault. We still want you in the family. And we've all gotten attached so don't go disappearing on us. You wouldn't want to disappoint the kid, would you?"

That drew a reluctant smile from Alex and he gave in. "Sure, I'll be there. As long as Mrs. Jones doesn't have plans for me during that time."

"We'll see," Jones said quietly. She was glad that Alex had some people in his life and would try to give the teen that time off but they never knew what would happen in their line of work.

"Good," James said as his son cheered. "I suppose that's all we can ask for. Come on, John. Say goodbye to Alex now and let him talk to the girls."

"Bye bye, Uncle Alex," John said, giving him another hug that Alex returned.

Once the Adair family was out of sight, Mr. Sands thanked him for saving his daughter's life again and made him promise to contact them if he was ever in the States. Then, the girls pulled him into a hug and made it clear that he was to keep in touch with them. When they left, Alex finally relaxed. There was a time when he wanted to be recognized for his espionage accomplishments but now that he was being acknowledged, he was just tired of it all.

"Mrs. Jones, if you ever put me on another mission that results in this many people thanking me in person, I'm going to tell everyone what your first name is," Alex said dryly.

"Noted," Jones replied blandly. "However, I will be forced to retaliate by letting a certain unit know how easily a child can make you give in."

Alex stared at her. "Well, I guess we'll end up trying to outdo each other then," he murmured as they got into the rear passenger seats of the vehicle waiting to take them back to the Royal and General. Jones smirked and the rest of the ride was spent in silence.

When they arrived at the bank, Jones surprised him by getting breakfast in the cafeteria for the both of them to bring up to her office. The few agents in the cafeteria this early in the morning saluted the head of Special Operations respectfully but openly stared at them in curiosity which they ignored. It was only when they were finished eating that Jones spoke again.

"The Hunt Syndicate being the Clerkenwell Syndicate's parent organization," she quietly deliberated, almost to herself. "No wonder no one could get any useful information about the Hunt Syndicate all these years. They were being protected by the Clerkenwell organization. We'll have to look into how the Hunt family managed to bring the Adams brothers under their control."

"My next mission?" Alex questioned.

Jones shook her head. "No, that will mostly be MI5 responsibility. Although, seeing as the two organizations are so closely intertwined, I imagine the Clerkenwell Syndicate and the remnants of the Hunt Syndicate will be out for your blood for killing off their leaders."

Alex's heart plummeted. He knew it was going to happen but it was more worrying to hear it spoken out loud. "So, I need to lay low for a bit. Where do you want me to go?"

"Back to Brecon Beacons. A car is already waiting for you at the entrance. You need to finish off your SAS training. I believe you still have a week left of it, for the final phase. While you do that, we will negotiate with both organizations to prevent them from taking revenge." Jones' lips curled into a cold smile. "I don't think they'll need much persuasion. The Hunt Syndicate has been so elusive, for so many years, that they have a reputation of being invincible. Impossible to infiltrate or hurt in any way. The fact that you managed to cut them off at the head will make both organizations fear you. I wouldn't be surprised if they steered clear of you and kept their heads down in your presence."

Grimacing at the thought that he was feared, Alex asked, "When do I leave?"

Jones unwrapped a peppermint. "As soon as this meeting is over. There are... some things that you should know."

Sensing her hesitation, Alex looked at the woman carefully. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Jones asked, "Do you know the identity of the man that was mauled by the German shepherds? The one that brought you before the Hunt family?"

Alex shook his head. "It was never mentioned. I just called him Binoculars in my head." Jones didn't even react to the nickname that Alex had come up with. She was too busy weighing her next words. That made him nervous. He cautiously asked, "Who was he?" More silence. "Tulip," he said warningly in a hard voice.

She gave him a dirty look and sighed. "I don't want to tell you but you said no more lies. And I'm not sure how to tell you this. There is a reason why you remind him so much of his aunt. When we recovered his body, our facial recognition software identified him as Thomas Beckett."

"Beckett...," Alex repeated faintly. "As in Helen Beckett? My mother?"

Jones nodded hesitantly.

"So, Binoculars was my cousin. I killed my cousin."

"You did not kill your cousin," Jones said sharply. "That would be the German shepherds."

"But I was the one who kicked him to the dogs," Alex insisted firmly. "Which means I may as well have killed my own cousin." Jones had no answer to that and Alex ran a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell! My own cousin tried to kill me first!" He paused, then let out a humorless laugh. "This business really does run in the family, doesn't it? Father, uncle, godfather, cousin, and myself. Do I have any other living relatives?"

"No," Jones said gently. "I'm sorry. Our records show that all four of your grandparents died young. Your grandfathers were soldiers in the second World War and died on the battlefield. Your maternal grandmother was a nurse, who was sometimes stationed in those war zones. She died when one of those military hospitals was bombed. Your paternal grandmother was a spy and was shot in front of John and Ian. They never knew it was an assassination."

Alex swallowed, grateful for the information about his family even if it all ended in tragedy. "What about aunts and uncles?"

Shaking her head, Jones said, "You heard your cousin. His initiation into the Hunt Syndicate was to kill his whole family so there is no one left on your mother's side. That's one cold case that we can close. Your father's side, you already know."

Burying his face in his hands, Alex took a moment to center himself. There was no use in mourning for the family he had never known. For now, he would accept what Jones was saying. But he would do some digging of his own as well to double check that the information was good and this wasn't just another manipulation that the head of Special Operations was trying to pull. When Alex looked up at Jones again, he said dryly, "Well, I may have physically kicked my cousin to the dogs but, in truth, he was already there. And good riddance."

Jones examined his blank face and wished that she could read the teen. Alex had already killed himself when he shot his clone for blowing up his beloved housekeeper. Now, he had caused the death of his own cousin. She was sure the psychologists would have a field day with these alone to work with, not to mention all the other trauma Alex had been through. That she and Blunt had put him through. Making a mental reminder to schedule the teen for a round of sessions with the MI6 psychologists, Jones said, "He was still your cousin. That knowledge doesn't just go away."

Alex nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else?"

"No."

"Can I ask you some questions before I go back to Wales?"

"Of course."

"Are you going to continue hacking into my phone whenever you want?"

Jones blinked. "No. It just so happened that the success of your last two missions depended on us being able to hear everything you were hearing and track your location."

He accepted the answer but resolved to get another secure phone soon for everything he wanted to keep away from MI6. Otherwise, nothing in his life would be private. Besides, he had more pressing issues to discuss. Moving on, he asked, "You've never given me much information before. No files, no proper warnings on the true nature of missions. So why did you give me K-Unit's entire files to read? I mean, nothing was left out. I wouldn't have thought that their therapy sessions were necessary for me to know."

Considering the teen for a moment, Jones thought about what to say. She decided a partial truth couldn't hurt. "I did say that I wanted you to see how things are normally run before you officially committed yourself to working for us. The files were a theoretical glimpse into the inner workings of our business."

"We're not the SAS though."

"But we work with them often enough." She paused. "Actually, your missions have involved the SAS more often than the norm. It's one reason why I'm having you complete SAS training. You'll start MI6 training on top of that when you go back to school in a week."

That information was surprising. He didn't know how often MI6 and the SAS usually worked together but he supposed it was a perfectly good reason for the files. Still, Alex sensed that there was something that Jones wasn't telling him. The amount and type of information in the files didn't quite make sense for just the purpose of looking at how things were done. Deciding to think it over some more before pressing the matter, he let it go for now in favor of the one thing that was really bothering him ever since reading his own file.

"A week ago, I was reading my own file and noticed that I have access to everything in it except for the Falcon's Edge mission in Afghanistan," Alex said casually, staring hard at Jones. "It also says I have a 100% success rate. But that's not true, is it? I watched Mr. Blunt stamp the Afghanistan mission as failed."

It was in that moment that Alex knew that Jones could be rattled. It happened so fast that, if he hadn't been paying such close attention to her response, he was sure he would have missed the slight hitch in her breath before she swallowed hard and reached for another peppermint. There was something about the whole affair that he needed to know. Her reaction had confirmed it.

Seeing that she wasn't going to be speaking anytime soon, he pressed on. "Then again, nothing about that mission added up. I never could figure it out though. Either my file's 100% success rate is a lie or you both lied to me about Afghanistan being a failure. Which one is it, Mrs. Jones?"

Slowly letting out a shaky breath, Jones closed her eyes briefly and whispered, "I'm sorry, Alex."

"So Afghanistan was a success," he stated flatly. Alex let the silence continue for a moment. He was afraid of the answer but it needed to be asked. "What was the true purpose of that mission?"

"This is something I never wanted you to know," Jones said quietly, finally having composed herself. "But I suppose you have a right to." She fell silent again, whether to gather her courage or to find the words, Alex wasn't sure. "You already know how high the stakes were for that mission. If Darcus Drake were able to unite all of the Middle Eastern terrorist organizations and supply them with nuclear weapons, we'd all be dead before a war could even start. It would be a worldwide massacre. The point of the mission wasn't to see if Drake had managed to get the calutron to work. That didn't matter. What did matter was that the calutron and the rallying point for uniting the terrorist organizations were eliminated."

Mind racing to put the pieces together, Alex dreaded the answer even more with each passing second. He had been involved in espionage for long enough that he knew "eliminated" was just a detached way of saying destroyed or killed. The rallying point must be referring to Drake himself. Which means the objective of the mission was to kill Darcus Drake. But Alex knew he hadn't done it. Drake was still very much alive with a fully intact compound when Alex had escaped. However, all of his gear and gadgets had been left behind. Was it possible that one of those gadgets contained something that would kill Drake? If they did, his bet was on the Leica camera he had been supplied with. It was the only thing that stood out as unnecessarily expensive and the man was a photographer so would have been naturally interested in it. He didn't know what would fit in a camera to cause a death though. Within those few seconds, Jones could see the realization dawning in his eyes, just falling short of the full truth, and braced herself for the inevitable explanation.

"The camera was his downfall," Alex said without a trace of doubt, surprising Jones with how accurately he was able to pinpoint the source of all their efforts. Muscles tense with dread, he asked, "What was in it? What happened to Drake after my escape?"

"The camera had a miniaturized homing beacon for two ground attack missiles," Jones answered quietly. "The RAF fired them while we debriefed you."

Alex stared at her, foolishly hoping for a moment that she wasn't serious. Then, he swore. "You had me assassinate a whole entire compound without telling me?! How many people died?"

"We're not sure."

Examining the woman in stony silence, Alex wondered when Blunt and Jones had lost their morals and humanity. If they ever had any in the first place. Were all spies like that? What did it say about himself that he felt like he belonged in this world? He hoped he never found killing everyone in an entire compound to be acceptable. And yet, he had a feeling that SCORPIA was right. Killing became easier and easier each time. Even last night, he had shot ten people straight through the heart when he couldn't even bring himself to shoot the person he had believed to be his father's killer just over a year ago. It may have been in defense of other people's safety, but he had killed them all the same. And he couldn't even be considered a criminal for it because he had shot those men with the full blessing of the law. No matter who he worked for, he was turning into something he didn't recognize.

"Is that why you accepted me back so easily after I defected from SCORPIA? Because you were already trying to turn me into an assassin?" Alex asked emotionlessly.

"No," Jones said sharply, almost shocked at the very thought and afraid that the teen had shut down. "We accepted you because, even if you lose your way, you will always end up doing what is right. Even if the rest of the world disagrees with you." She sighed. "In a way, Alan and I are responsible for your defection to SCORPIA in the first place. If we had been more open with you, told you everything about your father's work for us, then you would never have gone seeking answers. You would never have been vulnerable to Rothman's manipulations. In truth, you have always deserved our honesty but we have made the mistake of lying to you, time after time."

"Does that mean you'll stop keeping stuff from me?" Alex said wryly.

"Yes."

Alex nodded, not quite trusting her word yet, and ran a hand through his hair. "I still can't believe you made me an assassin," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," Jones repeated. "If there were any other way - "

"Don't," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "What's done is done. Just... don't run things the way Mr. Blunt did."

"I won't."

Nodding, Alex stood up and left Jones to her work. He went downstairs and got in the black car waiting to take him back to Brecon Beacons, still deep in thought. Looking down at the splint on his arm, Alex groaned. There were a lot of things he needed to work off from this meeting with Jones and his injuries would only exacerbate them. The sergeant was definitely not going to be happy about the fracture, or the burns, hindering his performance either. His last week of SAS training was going to be even more hellish than usual.