The room was cold. That was the first thing Wolf noticed. They were sitting in a room, chairs in a semi-circle, and a dark wood desk in the centre of the room. In front of the soldiers stood a women Wolf had seen once, in a snowy mountain in France. She had looked worried then. Now she was cold and her gaze burned into him, her dark complexion seeming to make her arctic nature more resolute. A grayish man sat at the desk. Blunt was printed on a card, facing the soldiers. A name that suites him well, thought Wolf. Wolf tried hard not to squirm in his seat. Everything about that man was gray. He seems so lifeless. He hated waiting. The leader inside told him to sit still and wait, but the civilian said that he had been waiting for way too long. Eagle shot him a glance. Wolf sighed. His unit had caught on to his impatient stirs. Eagle shifted. They were all uncomfortable, the fact that neither the man nor the woman spoke only escalated the tension in the room.

We were all nervous. The SIS rarely asked the SAS for help. But the MI6 branch? It was unheard of. MI6 was the part of the SIS that didn't happen. Like the cut chapter from a book, you would never know it was missing until you were told about it. Then, it would all make sense.

Wolf saw Snake tapping his foot. Fox was perfectly still, making Snake's anxiety all the more noticeable. Wolf saw Fox suddenly lean forward.

"Well?"

Blunt remanded perfectly still. Mrs. Jones, however, blinked. Fox turned to face her.

"We are waiting for an agent, correct?"

"Correct."

"When will he arrive?"

Mrs. Jones looked at her watch. She looked Fox straight in the eye.

"About now."

The agonizing silence returned. Wolf found himself looking at little detail in the ceiling in front of him. Pictures blossomed in front of him, familiar landscapes of his childhood, faces of people he knew or once did, animals, Picasso images, and even weaponry.

"Come in." Mrs. Jones called.

Wolf almost jerked in his seat when he turned around. He hadn't even heard a knock.

A blond haired teenager was already halfway across the room. Wolf couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the boy's bizarre appearance. The first thing Wolf noticed was the Barbwire tattoo that wound around the boy's left arm, starting at his bicep and disappearing a ripped, bloody leather jacket. In fact, there wasn't much left of the jacket. It had been abused so extensively that another tattoo was visible. A dragon winded, just like the barbwire, around his torso, the mouth opened at the base of his neck as if to sink its teeth into his flesh. His winded hair was streaked with Black highlights. Piercings ranged the length of his right ear, a skull standing out on the bottom earring. The skinny jeans pulling together the 'Bad Boy' look. All in all, The teen looked like he was apart of a gang. Bruises cascaded over the boy's skin. Several Deep cut were still bleeding.

"Whoa, kid. Are you okay?" Snake got up. He hurried over to the kid's side and immediately started to inspect a rather deep gash on his bicep, all those years of medical training going to work.

The boy who walked in seemed vaguely familiar. Wolf struggled to fit a name with the person, but Fox seemed to already know. He was glaring at Mrs. Jones, anger aggressively taking hold of Fox's face and molding it into its own creation.

"You told me you were done! It was over!"

Blunt blinked at Fox's outburst.

"Well Mr. Daniels, shall we tell your companions of your hospital leave?"

Fox clamped his mouth shut. A muscle was working in his jaw.

Wolf quickly smothered his curiosity. Fox's leave was none of his business.

The figure stepped forward. "Hello Ben."

Fox nodded to figure. "Hi, Alex." He seemed at that moment to have aged ten years. "Getting into any trouble lately."

It clicked. Alex! Cub! The boy who was sent to Brecon Beacons for ten days, then a few months later he found snowboarding for his life down a Steep mountain that Olympic Snowboards would second guess themselves on.

Wolf was still struggling. Cub. Alex. Why was he here? The figure took a seat next to Snake.

"Hey, Snake."

Snake looked at the boy. Alex could be no more than sixteen. Snake grinned. "'Hello."

Eagle leaned forward. He stuck out his hand. "How ya' doing?"

The boy looked at him. "'Lo Wolf."

Wolf nodded. "Hello."

"How's the arm?"

"Fine."

Wolf had been shot a few times in the arm. Iraq, Hungary, France…

Blunt started to already talking.

He was speaking to Eagle. "Have they briefed you?"

The soldiers shook their heads.

The boy grinned, "Typical military."

Fox glared at him. "Shut up, Cub."

Cub nodded, shrugging shoulders like he was rolling off some kind of worry.

Blunt pressed his mouth into a thin line. "We have started a school for training to prepare teenagers to be spies."

Cub glared. "You said I was the only one."

From anyone else, it would have been a whine, but from Cub it sounded almost like a threat.

"Due to your success…"

"And the fact that my life was ruined," he snapped. The chair that he had been sitting on tipped over with a loud bang. "No one trusts me. I have no future outside of this job. I don't want to force anyone else into this." Alex emphasized, waving his hand through the air.

Mrs. Jones spoke. "It was voluntary. And their parents and guardians agreed."

"Did they?" Fox's voice was cold.

"Yes."

"And you expect them to be trained?" Cub looked incredulous.

"How do we know they will be any good?" Eagle joined in.

"They have already completed the basic tests. You job is to weed out those who slipped past, and then teach them. We will provide the necessary facilities when it is time."

Wolf finally spoke. "When will this 'weeding out' be?"

"In one day you will expected to be at Brecon Beacons. The students will arrive one day later. After that time you will be moved to an appropriate facility."

Snake looked apprehensive. "Where will we stay?"

"I believe the School dorms, in which the students will be staying, has a teacher's dorm as well. You may stay there." Mrs. Jones replied.

"And me?"

She turned to Cub. "You need 'team bonding'." She smiled. "You may, however collect your things before you leave, which…"Mrs. Jones paused to look down at her watch. "You should be leaving as soon as possible."

He nodded reluctantly. He knew it was a hopeless situation. In the end they always got what they wanted.

Blunt looked down at his papers, and Mrs. Jones placed another mint into her mouth. It was an obvious dismissal.

4