Disclaimer: I own everything

That was the day the earth stood still.

Or that was how it seemed to Alex, he was kneeling on the floor covered in blood, he was not sure who's it was, holding the gun which had seen much death, trembling in his fingers. He looked, just stared at the bodies of the two people who he loved the most.
Jacks red hair dyed by the juice of her life, now spilt and lost her white blouse stained red by the blood of the boy she died protecting. Tom lying motion less, curled up in a ball, just like in Sleeping Lions, his favourite game Alex recalled, because as they say once you turn 16, you turn 6 again.
MI6 came and went but Alex still just sat and stared, he didn't feel anything, that was the thing that scared him the most, that numb feeling. he swore, as he knelt there, that one day he would have revenge on the organisation which killed Jack and Tom, his Jack and his Tom even if he it took him his whole life to find out who it was.

-=-=-=-

As he entered the bank of the following Friday morning he confronted Marabelle, the new woman at the office, and as he asked to see Blunt and Jones, she told him no-one under that name worked there. She soon dropped all pretences as Alex slid on the cold emotionless mask, eyes that had seen too much, the eyes of a veteran; the pale, marred skin which bore the scars of his work; the cool lethal expression which was the last think many of the people who crossed his path saw.

Sitting in front of Mrs Jones, Alex contemplated how to say the thing which would stop many of the hearts of many of the people in this very building. But he decided before be told them he would need an update on the killers, but as he asked he saw a flicked of guilt pass over their usually emotionless faces, it was then he knew. It was then he realised why they hadn't gotten where with the investigation, why the body's had been taken away without any DNA checks or life checks, why they hadn't even gotten round to accusing Scorpia yet.

Because it was MI6, bloody MI6! They would pay, if it was the last thing that he did in his sorry little life. He would make them pay.

If you actually thought I owned this, you need a physiatrist. But seriously I'm not Anthony Horowitz; if I were I would be a whole lot richer.

P.S. I won't update until I have at least 5 reviews