When Circumstances Clash
By: Lore or mess.
Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider, I just write fanfictions. Anything else that seems familiar is either a feature from my other fics or utter coincidence.
Warnings: This story may contain homosexual relationships. If you are offended by this or in any way feel uncomfortable, you have the choice to continue reading or forego reading this story. The choice is yours. However, I will not entertain any sort of derogatory comments made concerning this issue. This warning has been posted.
I: Cōnsilium - Meeting
'Three entrances doubling as exits. Plenty of cover spaces. Bulletproof glass. Disguised security. Judging by the room, at least four or five hidden cameras somewhere on the ceiling.'
"—heard from your father that you've returned from France, I said to him that he simply had to bring you along for the cruise. It's been such a long time that hardly any of us recognize you. Why, I remember when you were only six years old, your father would—"
Alex turned his smile up a notch as his attention returned to the men in front of him, seemingly never having looked away at all.
"Yes, it has been a long time. France is such a beautiful and unique country that I loathe to leave it even for short times. Father understands of course. But now that I've finished my secondary education, mother insists that I return to my homeland. She was never very fond of the French." Alex was careful to allow a little of his French accent to tint his words, playing by his cover perfectly.
"Yes, the French. What can we say about them? They are different—…"
Alex tuned out the prattling man as he subtly surveyed the party lounge once more. There were quite a number of people milling about. Businessmen, millionaires, trophy wives, platinum-class escorts,… it was all about the image with these people. Luckily, Alex's cover, well, covered that part of his concern.
Basil Maitland. Only son of Abel and Richardine Maitland. The family dealt in real estate all around Europe and was estimated to be worth around several billion euros. Basil had attended boarding schools in France ever since he was seven and seldom, if ever, returns to England. From MI6's latest surveillance, he was reported to have short blonde hair and blues eyes with a lean build. Barring the need for a pair of coloured contact lenses, it was the perfect disguise for Alex. Basil was rich enough that people won't bother him too much and was absent from England for so long that most people who knew the real Basil wouldn't question his appearance.
'It's perhaps the best cover MI6 had provided me with yet', thought Alex as nodded to whatever the man in front of him said. The man was Reuben Tishkoff, a supremely wealthy Las Vegas casino and hotel owner. Next to the American stood Francois Toulour, a French nobleman with a penchant for extreme sports, and Kaito Nakamura, president of an international Japanese company, Yamagato Industries. They were supposedly friends of Basil's father and had all met the young Basil before he'd gone to France. Alex was really glad that he'd bothered to read up on his inch thick mission briefing before coming to the party. Or he'd be in big trouble right now.
"—and then we find out that the whole fuss was about the wine being a '73 and not a '63. Really, you French and your wine." Reuben shook his head fondly at Francois.
"You would not understand unless you know what it means to be a connoisseur of good drink. It takes skill, experience and passion, my friend. Not something every American has, I'm afraid." Francois sniffed semi-seriously.
"Ah, wine… well, one can never go wrong with champagne. It's fortunate that you're old enough to drink now eh, Basil?...... oh, look here. Renatus!"
Alex half turned to see another boy about his age coming towards them, having heard Reuben's hailing. He had dark hair, jet black, and icy blue eyes which almost seemed to reflect light with their intensity. His tuxedo was quite obviously tailored and clung to his body. Alex noticed that he walked with a grace similar to his own, light but confident, the prowl of a fighter hidden behind elegant strides.
The boy's presence was a surprise. Alex had assumed that all the passengers on the cruise would be adults, or at least, older than him. A high class cruise ship was not the usual haunt of teenage boys after all. Then again, Alex reasoned that if Basil could be here, so could other kids of the super rich.
The boy came to a stop before him and the three men. Blue eyes flicked across each one, pausing slightly at Alex before returning to Reuben, all the while a polite smile on his face. A practiced action, Alex noted.
"Renatus! It's been a long time. I hadn't expected to see you here. Last I heard, you were off skiing in the Alps with friends." Reuben exclaimed happily.
"Hello, Uncle Reuben, Monsieur Toulour, Nakamura-san. Yes, it has been a long time. And actually, I had not planned to come on this cruise. But there were some last minutes changes and father was busy so I came for mother's peace of mind. She was concerned I did not spend enough time away from school work."
"That's your mother for you. Always such a concerned soul. I remember when she'd heard that I had had a minor illness back a couple of years ago and she sent an entire fridge of traditional medicinal cures for me. Bless her soul. But that's a story for another time. Ren, my dear boy, do you remember Basil? You two used to play together when you were both younger. Got into a lot of trouble too, if I recalled correctly."
'Shit. The briefing said nothing about this. Then again, I suppose it can't be helped. MI6 couldn't have known that he would be here. '
It was unexpected and it was bad, but Alex let none of it show on his face. He was still pretty confident he could pull this encounter off without blowing his cover. He had to.
Renatus turned to him in what seemed like surprise. Two pairs of blue eyes, one artificial and one real, clashed for several moments. Renatus said nothing, just watching Alex and Alex, who was starting to feel slightly tense, quickly pasted a charming smile on his face.
"Basil Maitland." He said, formally extending a hand.
Renatus blinked once before accepting the handshake, smiling graciously. "Yes, of course. Renatus Helesande. I don't suppose you remember me either?"
Alex made his smile apologetic. "No, sorry."
The other teenager waved the apology away. "Don't be. It is not your fault neither of us remembers something which supposedly happened when we were mere children."
Alex chuckled lightly, relieved that a disaster had been avoided. He mentally thanked the fact that Basil didn't seem to have very many English friends, or he'd be screwed even before the mission started. Speaking of which, it was perhaps time for him to take his leave from the party.
After waiting for a few more minutes while making small talk with several people who knew his 'family' in passing, Alex casually made his way towards one of the lounge entrances. He managed to slip away unnoticed to one of the elevators. As soon as the polished doors closed in front of him, he let out a soft sigh. Pretending to be the son of a rich person in the middle of a bunch of rich people wasn't easy, but he'd done it before. He rather thought he did quite well this time considering his past two days on the cruise.
It's been close to two years since his little altercation with Scorpia which ended in Julia Rothman's death and the structural fracturing of the terrorist organization. MI6 had nearly given him a medal for that one. Unfortunately, they couldn't because Alex Rider didn't exist. And theoretically, he wasn't even an MI6 agent since his name was not on any of their databases. But in all practical means, he was one of their best spies. Or so he'd been told. The last three years has seen him completing more than 25 missions with only one or two failures. His life had changed quite dramatically since then. Jack, his housekeeper, was still with him but he no longer went to a government managed school. Instead, he had private tutors who taught him whenever he was home from missions and didn't have to be in the hospital. The syllabus he learned had been changed to accommodate his 'work' and some of it wasn't appropriate for teenagers not of his position. All of it was, of course, paid by MI6. Along with his 'salary', Alex had quite a bank account for a teen. Not that he'd ever had the time or need to use the money. Between missions, rest, rehab and lessons, he didn't have any time for vacations and the latest gadgets were always provided to him before he set out.
His life had become one methodically planned pattern with only a splattering of divergences. However, that was not to say that he was unhappy. Somewhere along the line, Alex had learned to like his job. Yes, spying was intruding, dishonest, deceitful, but he did it for a positive purpose. Someone had to do the dirty work so that the government could prevent bigger problems. And Alex just so happens to be someone who was really good at that. He had come to this conclusion sometime after the Scorpia ordeal. After setting things right with MI6, he'd agreed to work for them but they still kept him off-file because it wasn't actually legal to make a teenager a spy. Needless to say, Jack hadn't been pleased. But Alex had gotten her to understand that this was what he wanted and she'd at least accepted that.
So, here he was then, on another mission. This time, the location was aboard a posh cruise liner on route across the North Sea from the UK to Sweden, stopping briefly at Denmark. The passengers were all members of the 'very wealthy' class which constituted to the identity of his cover. Alex's purpose, as far as MI6 had told him, was to confirm the presence of a certain item and possibly guard it before alerting headquarters so that the big guys could come and do the actually 'busting the bad guy' act. He'd been told to try and keep his cover away from the entire hullabaloo if he could help it. It would be a huge mess if anyone onboard the cruise mentioned that Basil Maitland had been involved in the operation in any way when in reality, the boy was probably just enjoying a croissant in an (expensive) French café.
But back to the matter at hand, Alex was to locate one Sam Isaacs, an American scientist who had a permanent residency in the UK. He was reportedly working on developing new field weapons for the British army, but MI6 had intelligence otherwise. One of their agents stationed in Russia informed them that a prominent radical organization there had made plans for a 'transaction' with Isaacs. The details were not forthcoming but the agent knew enough to deduce that the Russians were paying Isaacs an enormous amount of money in exchange for the newest weapon he'd formulated. And there were vague hints that it wasn't just any simple weapon but one capable of destruction at a devastating scale. The agent was able to determine that Isaacs planned to fly to Saratov from Halland once he reached Sweden. Alex's job was to prevent that from happening.
The elevator chimed softly as it reached Alex's destination. Giving a swift glance in both directions and seeing no one, he casually made his way down the long and lavish corridor to room 1706. The past two days of the cruise had seen him hacking into the cruiser's mainframe computer to check the lists of passengers and infiltrating cabins to steal the necessary duplicate card keys. When he'd left the party earlier, Alex had made sure that Isaacs was busy talking to one of the guests and wouldn't inadvertently stumble upon him while he was doing his job.
Slipping the card key out from the pocket of his trousers, he slotted it through the computed lock beside the door and let himself in.
~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~
Renatus watched through the corner of his half-lidded eyes as the other teen slipped out of the party lounge. He waited several moments before politely excusing himself from the cheerful socialite who'd been accompanying him. Walking out to one of the more private balconies above the deck, he let an amused smile grace his face as he lazily speed-dialed a number on his mobile.
The tone rang twice before a familiar, heavily accented masculine voice answered.
"Ren! Salut mec, ça boume?" (Ren! Hey man, how's it going?)
"Géant. Comment ça va, Basil?" (Great. How are you, Basil?)
"Super! Gabrielle, elle s'est fait tatouer—…" (Super! Gabrielle, she got a tattoo—…)
The conversation continued for several moments, the person on the other end of the line chatting away speedily in French.
"… oh, nothing. Just wondering about some things…… Like how it'd be good to see you on English soil again, now that your school's out…… Yes, I know…… So no chance of you coming back, huh?...... I suppose I could… no, can't. Father has me hopping all over Europe, working…… *laughs*…… No, it's fine. I like my job……. Well, good to hear from you. Send my love to your family and kiss Gabrielle for me…… Tchao."
Ending the call and slipping the mobile back into his tuxedo's inner pocket, Renatus turned and gracefully made his way back to his suite.
It was certainly interesting how the day had turned out.
Entering his suite, he moved through the extravagantly decorated sitting room to his bedroom, pausing only to shrug out of his jacket and leave it hanging over the back of an armchair near the bedroom door. He went over to his laptop sitting on a table near the room's glass balcony doors, which opened to reveal the vast North Sea. The sounds of shuffling cloth and a soft moan coming from the direction of his bed did nothing to distract him as he quickly set up the device and waited for it to finish loading.
Just as the screen cleared to ask for his password, a strong pair of arms came from behind him and tightened around his waist, pulling him back into a hard chest. Lips pressed against his ear for a moment before they lowered to suck lightly on his neck.
"Hey, baby." Kiss, nibble. "How was the party?"
Barely responding to the ministrations of his naked lover behind him, Renatus stoically typed in the password to his computer. "Boring. Same old round-the-champagne-bottle party."
"Did you meet anyone interesting?" It was obviously a pointless question and one asked merely for the sake of asking, as the person behind him very clearly had no interest in the answer.
Renatus thought a moment, and smiled. "Yes, actually. There was someone."
In the meanwhile, his lover had managed to get rid of his bow-tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. Teeth latched onto the exposed skin of the junction between his neck and shoulder the moment the shirt was shifted away.
"Hmm? Who?" His lover didn't wait for an answer. "You should have invited him back with you. Then the three of us could have had some fun."
Renatus frowned slightly before twisting around in his lover's embrace, momentarily disregarding his laptop. Grasping the chin in front of him, he tilted it down to examine his lover's eyes. The pupils were dilated and his lover's gaze was somewhat unfocused.
"You're still high." Renatus stated, rather than questioned, unhappily.
A sound sounding suspiciously like a giggle escaped the taller man. "Maybe." Then, before Renatus had a chance to voice his disapproval, he jerked the shorter Renatus flush against his unclothed body and shamelessly attacked his neck.
"You told me it wouldn't last this long." Renatus deadpanned, clearly displeased that his lover was still under the effect of drugs.
"Different metabolism rates, love."
To that, Renatus remained silent as his lover proceed to suck on every inch of exposed skin his mouth could reach while his hands gained free reign over Renatus's body. He allowed the taller man several more moments before pushing him firmly away when the man started to moan and grind lightly against him.
"Get it out of your system. Take a shower." He ordered softly.
His lover frowned, dissatisfied. "Don't want a shower. I want you." He made to protest more but Renatus silenced him with a kiss and a caress across the back of his neck.
"I've got work, Tax."
Tax made a sound similar to a whine before sighing and slinking away to the en suite. Renatus watched his naked form go before turning back to his laptop. He opened several programmes, which required more passwords, then sat back to watch as a window on his screen partitioned into four, each showing a different view of a guest's room. It had audio even.
A smile broke across Renatus's face.
'Show time.'
~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~
Alex was frustrated. He'd searched the bed, the cupboards, the cabinets, the bathroom… he even went so far as to peel back the carpets to see if the object he was looking for was a compact disc hidden under there. But no. Nothing. Yes, he was frustrated.
Looking around the room once more, Alex was very aware that time was running short and that the party was due to end soon. He had to hurry if he wanted to avoid detection. Worse come to worse, he'd had to leave without securing the object and come back another time. He still had another day to try again, even though by all calculations, this was his best chance to get the mission done. It would help if he actually knew what he was looking for in the first place.
Huffing slightly in aggravation, Alex prepared to leave when a slight irregularity caught his eye. Turning, he tilted his head at the shoe rack next to the door. Sandals, sneakers, dress shoes, trainers and a variety of other shoes were clustered together on the left side of the rack. It was… an odd sight. After searching through the scientist's room, Alex had been given the impression that Isaacs was a very neat person, bordering on OCD. So it was very unusual for him to leave his shoes looking so… bunched together. Staring at it a moment longer, he realized that no matter how many pairs of shoes there were, stacked together, they shouldn't have made such a high pile. Suspiciously, he kneeled down in front of the rack and carefully moved the various pairs of shoes aside. And there it sat, before his face, a thick black briefcase. Non-descript and sealed with an in-built combination lock which even then still required a key.
'Paranoid much?'
Lifting the case out, Alex gingerly laid it on the bed and inspected it a moment. He didn't have the slightest clue for the code and he would bet money that the key was somewhere on Isaacs's person. There was no way he would be able to open it right now. Worrying his lower lip, he considered his immediate choices……
~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~
Jason checked his harness and equipment one more time before nodding to himself. There was room for mistakes in this part of the operation but he'd prefer if there wasn't. What would it say for his reputation if there were? Not that there would be anyone to see it. Still.
Relaxing the descender, he allowed for a slow fall, bouncing off the side of the cruiser. He was careful to keep from possible observation from the various balconies on either side of him. Arriving at his destination, he slowed his descent and maneuvered himself over to where he could see past the thick curtains at the sides of the balcony.
Shock.
'A kid?'
Jason watched in quiet bewilderment as a blonde teenager, perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old, kneeled by the side of the bed, seemingly tinkering with a thick black briefcase.
This wasn't right. It wasn't what he had agreed to. The contract said a middle aged brunette man, not a goddamn teenager. He was supposed to eliminate the target, dump the body into the ocean, retrieve the case, and leave with no one the wiser. He hadn't agreed to take out collateral damage. Of course, under normal circumstances, he would. It would only be a matter of making it look like a heated disagreement gone bad. In his line of work, witnesses were liabilities which often came back to bite him in the ass. But he hadn't consented to killing children. Even considering what he did for a living, Jason Bourne still had some morals. And snuffing the life out of teenagers was definitely against them.
Inside the room, the blonde boy sighed silently. He seemed to be having difficulties getting the briefcase to open. Jason pursed his lips.
'Change of plans then. Get the case, scare off the kid — he's probably just some nosy brat, anyway — and finish the other guy later.'
It sounded like a plan. But it was a really weak one. 'Ah well', Jason decided. He'll just have to play it by ear.
~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~
Renatus watched as 'Basil' kneeled in front of the shoe rack. He had enjoyed himself immensely earlier as he observed the blonde's meticulous but nonetheless fruitless attempts at discovering the briefcase. He hadn't been able to contain his chuckles when the boy had peeled back the carpets to check for god-knows-what. It was honestly quite ridiculous, watching the other teen work his way through the room. But it was all good entertainment and it seemed that the blonde had finally found what he was looking for when he'd been prepared to leave. Fortunate too, or Renatus doubted that the rest of his day would be quite as amusing.
Sounds of movement from behind him caused Renatus to turn his head slightly. He watched as Tax moved across the room towards their joint wardrobe, clad only in a short white towel around his waist. He watched as Tax clothed himself in black slacks and a navy blue shirt, leaving the top few buttons undone to reveal a tanned and toned chest. Dressed like that, with his clothes clinging to his body in just the right places, Renatus wasn't too sure some people wouldn't kill for Tax if he asked them to.
Oblivious to the thoughts running through his lover's mind, Tax moved towards the night stand where he'd left his diamond studded crucifix last night. Ducking his head slightly, he clasped it around his neck before adding a silver chain bracelet around his left wrist. Running a hand through his damp hair, he let it fall in its natural messy pattern, a finger checking on the stud in his ear before turning around.
Renatus eyes followed his lover's movements and fell onto the small but elaborate crucifix around Tax's neck. It was hard to believe that the other teen was a devout… semi-devout Catholic when one remembered the things he did. But that fact was made significant every time they were together. Tax always, always took the chain off before they had sex. It amused Renatus whenever he thought about it.
Looking up, he caught the look his lover was sending him along with a raised eyebrow. Replying with a lazy smile, Renatus leaned back into his armchair and crooked a finger at Tax in a 'come here' motion. His lover obeyed and leaned over him with his hands resting on the armrests.
Their kiss was slow and sensual. Tongues tasting, teasing and bantering with each other. Mouths moving with familiarity. It was engaging and it was controlled. Whatever remainder of the drugs in Tax's body had been processed and he was back in balance again. This made evident when they parted for breath and Tax smiled at him with his signature half smirk.
"You look nice." Renatus hummed appreciatively. Sometime during their kiss, Tax had ended up between his legs and his hands around Tax's slim waist.
Tax laughed softly, voice husky from their proximity. "You've had your chance. Now I'm going to look for someone who actually wants my services."
Renatus paused only a moment. "Client?" Tax had acted nonchalant but Renatus hadn't missed it when he'd tucked a small sachet into his pocket earlier.
Tax only smiled, if somewhat apologetically.
"Don't get caught." Renatus warned half-seriously.
"Give me some credit." Tax said, not even bothering to look mock offended as he leaned down for another kiss before straightening. "I'll leave you to your 'work'."
As Tax left, Renatus turned his attention back to his laptop. 'Basil' was still fiddling unsuccessful with the briefcase in one of the views. On the top right view, a moving shadow had fallen onto the side of the balcony.
Renatus smiled almost gleefully.
~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~
Alex had just decided to take the briefcase with him, codes be damned, when a glimpse of a shadow made his head snap up towards the room's balcony. Standing there was a man clad in unremarkable clothes and a balaclava over his face. In his hand, a shiny black Beretta, complete with silencer, gleamed at him in mockery.
'Oh, shit.'
Now, in situations like these, Alex had three choices: Offense, Defense, or Not-At-All; his own tried and proven special formula.
First option: Offense…… No, he didn't think so. The moment he caught sight of the intruder, Alex had immediately taken stock of his apparel and weapons. It was a skill spying had pounded into his consciousness till it had become an instinct, one which had saved him time, effort and on some occasions, his life before. Right now, the man in front of him not only had a very polished and silenced Beretta pointed at him, he had a large and wicked looking knife strapped to his waist. A harness for abseiling hung around his lower torso, the answer as to how he'd managed to enter from the balcony. Also, though he wasn't overly muscular, Alex was experienced enough to comprehend the fact that getting physical with the visibly strapping man probably wouldn't be a very bright idea. And since he himself was comparatively empty handed, Smithers' gadgets not-withstanding, the choice was out.
So, second option: Defense. This option is usually left for when the bad guys come crashing in, guns a-blazing. Well, in the half a second they'd stared at each other, the man had yet to shoot him and it was not as though there were a lot of places to use as cover anyway. And again, fat lot of good defense will do when he was as weaponless as he was now.
Last option: Not-At-All. There was another name for this option; Operation Act Dumb. Most of the time, people (cops, spies and assassins alike) don't expect teenagers to be in the places they usually find Alex in. Operation Act Dumb takes advantage of that fact. Alex's name and face is probably one of the most unrecorded in governmental databases. It makes his job easy. So it was very likely that he could get away with acting like a dumb teenager who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. At the very least, it would buy him some time to improvise.
In the one second it took Alex to come to this decision, the man had made it into the room proper.
Alex threw up his hands, plastering a fearful expression on his face. "Don't kill me!"
The man paused several feet away from the bed. "Up and away from the bed, kid."
Alex did as he said, getting shakily to his feet and playing the terrified teenager role. The man leaned over the bed carefully, keeping both eyes and gun on him while he slowly dragged the briefcase across the dark green duvet towards himself. Alex forced himself to not look at the case and stare frightfully at the gun instead.
The man seemed to deliberate for a moment before asking, "What are you doing here?"
Alex licked his lips slightly before replying. The man's voice had no accent and didn't sound very old. Perhaps late twenties or early thirties. A thief? Assassin? Not a very good contract killer if he was one, letting a witness live this long. Not that Alex wasn't grateful. Then again, maybe he planned to kill him after he was sure that Alex was the only one who knew about whatever was inside that case.
"I was— I umm… I n-needed money and uh… the man looked like an easy target…"
The man was silent after his little admission. Dark brown eyes stared at him piercingly. The quiet stretched on with the gun still trained on him, neither person moving. Alex could feel his muscles tensing. If the man planned to shoot him, he wanted to be sure that he could at least move so that the bullet hit a less vital area instead of his chest. He remembered very clearly how much that hurts. Letting lose his anxiety, Alex could feel adrenalin flowing through his blood stream. It made his act more convincing that his breath was coming faster, his face pale and a slight sheen of sweat was visible on his forehead.
After what felt like an eternity, the man spoke.
"You tell no one about this—"
"I won't, I swear!" Alex answered quickly, allowing a pleading look to overtake his features.
The man paused. "Good. Because I'll be around." Then he motioned towards the door with the Beretta. "Go."
Alex looked nervous for a moment. "Y-you're not going to shoot me the moment I turn around, are you?"
The man scowled and emitted what sounded like a low, irritated growl. He lowered the Beretta so that it pointed more towards Alex's knees and jerked his head towards the door in a 'Get going!' sort of motion.
Alex allowed himself to look relieved and slowly but anxiously inched towards the door. Inwardly, he was debating on what he should do next. There was no way he was getting the case now; he wasn't suicidal and his luck could only get him so far. And once the man left, it would be almost impossible to search him out from the three hundred passengers on the cruiser. But one thing was for sure. The briefcase was very likely what MI6 was looking for. Why else would someone send an armed thief to steal it? Which also told Alex another thing. Someone besides the Russians, MI6 and Isaacs knew about the weapon. The picture was probably bigger than what they'd been led to believe. But either way, MI6 should be able to clear this mess up. All he had left to do was return to his suite, call up his bosses and let them do the rest. As long as they secured the cruiser before it reached land, it would only be a matter of searching through the entire ship. It wouldn't matter then who had the weapon.
With that thought in mind, Alex finally turned to go when a dreaded sound made him freeze.
The doorknob was turning. And a moment later, the door swished open to show the shocked face of one Dr. Sam Isaacs.
'Oh,… shit.'
Author's Note: Well, I don't really have a good excuse for starting a new story when my other ones are suffering from lack of updates. But I just couldn't help myself when I visited the Alex Rider community and saw the utter discard of potential there. I just had to. And I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope the feeling lasts. I have some ideas for the story line but for the moment, WCC is more of a stress reliever for me during my final exams. Reviews will be very much appreciated.
I wonder if anyone recognizes the myriad of movies/series characters I've infused into this fic. There will be a lot of cameo appearances here in WCC. Have fun trying to identify them. The answers, for every appearance in each chapter, will be posted by the next update following that chapter.
