Amarum est pro patria mori
Alex woke at 4:30 in the morning. He rose, and scowled when he realized it was Monday. He got up and began his morning routine, the usual stretching and bodyweight exercise before throwing on running shorts and a shirt and leaving his penthouse apartment for a short run. Inwardly, Alex smiled as he travelled down the elevator, his job did have its perks. Alex left the building and started his morning run. Eventually, streaks of the sunlight could be seen illuminating the tallest buildings of the London skyline. As Alex continued on, he felt something gnawing in his stomach. Alex had long since learned that his instincts were usually right. Anyone with an untrained eye wouldn't have noticed him tense up and scan the area as he ran. Alex finished his run uneventfully, but the feeling in his stomach grew. While heading back up to his apartment, the desk clerk, Brian stopped him and said "Mr. Rider, a man from the Royal and General bank stopped by last night and left an envelope for you." Brian handed Alex the envelope, and Alex continued on back up to his apartment. He opened the door and looked at the clock. "6:20," he thought to himself, "still plenty of time to get to school." Alex turned on the shower and then opened the envelope. Inside was an Omega Seamaster, a clear piece of plastic about the size of a large pill, and a note. Alex picked up the watch and plastic piece and examined it, then unfolded the note, already knowing who it was from.
How are you dear boy? I haven't seen you since you got back from your last assignment a few weeks ago. I trust all is well with you, and that you have finished your mountains of paperwork by now. But that's beside the point. I have completed your request down to every last specification. (And I made sure that the microphone won't break again like the last time.) I spent a lot of time trying to fit everything into that watch, and I hope dearly that you won't lose it again. Come see me soon so that we can catch up.
Sincerely,
Smithers
(P.S. the instructions are on the back)
Less than a week ago, Alex sent the watch in asking for Smithers to add a clearer commlink to the watch, as well as a distress beacon, and a small handcuff shim, and he certainly delivered! Alex put the plastic earpiece in his ear, and tested the radio. Alex smiled and thought to himself, "Smithers is a true genius. I will have to visit him soon." He pulled out the earpiece, and placed the watch and the earpiece next on the table. Alex then glided to the bathroom, disrobed, and stepped into the shower. The water was scalding; however Alex didn't mind the heat. His training with K unit had taught him how to compartmentalize pain and fear. After washing himself, Alex turned the shower to its coldest setting and stood under the icy spikes for5 minutes, and reflected on his current life. Three years ago, Jack was killed. Even though she was always against him joining MI6, he took up the permanent status of operative. Whatever Blunt, or Jones may think his reason was for joining, Alex had only one, to honor the deeds of those he had lost, even as their faces began to fade from memory. After all, those memories are all that's left, when the bastards have taken everything else. It took almost a whole year for him to accept her death. When he was finally done mourning, he visited the Bank with a contract he wrote himself detailing the terms by which he would work for MI6. Although lengthy, his had very few demands. First, he would not work unless as protective detail was assigned to Brooklands. Second, he would receive a regular salary. Third, he would be allowed time to recuperate from his wounds before being sent on his next assignment. Fourth, he would be allowed to graduate high school. And lastly, he would be permitted to own and carry concealed weapons wherever he went. As a bonus, Blunt decided to assign Ben and K unit as backup. Since that fateful day, Alex was an official agent of MI6.
Rising from his brooding, Alex turned off the shower, and dried himself off. Walking into his bedroom, Alex opened up his walk in closet. He grabbed a pair of khaki pants, and Brookland's polo shirt. Walking to the back of his closet, Alex opened his gun safe, a gift from Ben, and pulled out two CRKT Sting combat knives, which he strapped to his ankles underneath his pants. He then pulled out a larger knife, a CRKT Ultima, and strapped it underneath his left armpit. Next, he pulled out his Sig Sauer P226 chambered in .40S&W with green tritium sights, and threads for a silencer, then holstered it at the small of his back. Alex then took out two spare 15 round magazines and his silencer, and carefully placed them in a special pouch in between his waist and belt, inside his pants above his left leg. With that, Alex grabbed his backpack, keys, wallet, phone, and new watch, and left his apartment. He rode the elevator down to the garage, and unlocked his Aston Martin DB9. Knowing he probably wouldn't live long enough to spend the money he earned for his work; Alex decided to splurge when choosing a car. Arriving at school, Alex locked his car and went to go find Tom. They met near Tom's locker. "Hey man, did you see the game last night?" asked Tom eagerly.
"No, I was really tired so I went to sleep pretty early. Who won?" replied Alex.
"Manchester. You didn't miss much. The other team was pretty bad so it was a blow out," said Tom with a grin.
They continued their conversation until the bell rang and they separated to go to class. Halfway through first period, Alex was called to the office. Mrs. Bedfordshire told him that Mr. Bray wanted to talk to him, so Alex walked into his office and sat in one of the excessively large leather armchairs. He waited, and Mr. Bray walked in, not noticing Alex, obviously distracted by some other school matter. "You wanted to see me Mr. Bray," stated Alex quietly. Mr. Bray turned around quickly. He was obviously startled.
"Yes Alex, I did. It is a matter of your," Mr. Bray paused, looking for the right word, "absences."
"I have a we-"
Mr. Bray cut him off, "Alex, I have heard your explanation, but the fact of the matter is even though your absences have been excused, you still have missed so much class that you won't be receiving credit for the winter term, and without that credit, you won't be able to continue on into the spring term. Additionally, as I'm sure you know, no one believes your reason for being absent. I have read the notes; the illnesses you have claimed to be infected by don't explain the bruises, cuts and broken bones. When I tried calling your doctor, the receptionist put me on hold then never picked up again, several times. I'm not willing to believe that you are involved in any sort of gang, or are in drug rehab, but unless I get an acceptable explanation, I'm afraid you won't be able to continue onto the next term."
Alex did not respond. Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed in a phone number. "What are you doing?" inquired Mr. Bray.
"Requesting clearance," replied Alex curtly. Mr. Bray was opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it once he met Alex's stare. Until now, Mr. Bray hadn't paid much attention to his eyes. However, as Alex's cold, dark eyes threw daggers into his own, Mr. Bray realized that sitting in front of him was not a school boy, but instead a man who witnessed more than anyone should have to in a lifetime. Alex's eyes reminded him of a soldier's. Little did he know, he wasn't too far off.
Mr. Bray was roused from his thoughts when whoever Alex was calling picked up. Taking on a very serious tone, Alex began to speak. "Hello Mrs. Jones, would you send down a copy of the OSA for my headmaster Mr. Bray?" Alex waited a reply, "Yes…no, he's unaware, no. You and I both know that I am not eligible to go on any official diplomatic business until I have my credentials… Yes, that's fine. Alright, I will check in once Ben and I are done here." Alex then turned to Mr. Bray and elaborated. "One of my colleagues will be arriving shortly with some paper work. Once you have signed it, then you will be qualified to hear the truth."
"What kind of explanation requires me to sign any paperwork? And who's this colleague? I didn't know you had a job!" exclaimed Mr. Bray.
Alex replied "I can't answer those questions until you have signed the paper work."
The two sat in silence until Ben arrived. Upon arrival, he gave a short knock and then opened the office door and closed it just as quickly. Alex began introductions. "Mr. Bray, this is Mr. Ben Daniels. Ben this is my headmaster, Mr. Bray." The two shook hands and Ben took a seat next to Alex. Alex continued," Mr. Bray, what I am about to say cannot, under any circumstance be repeated. To ensure this happens, Ben here has brought a copy of the Official Secrets Act. I suggest you read it carefully before deciding whether or not to sign it."
Ben handed Mr. Bray the Act, and Mr. Bray stared at the two, speechless. He then began to read the Act, occasionally giving Alex insecure glances. Finally, He signed the act. Ben stood and retrieved the document, then locked it in his briefcase. Alex then divulged his secrets.
"By signing that paper, you are bound by law not to repeat, publish, sell, or otherwise disclose any of the following information, punishable by the penalties listed in Article 2, Section 9. First I would like to reacquaint you with my colleague here. This is Agent Ben Daniels of MI6. I also work for MI6. For almost 4 years I have worked as an operative. In that time I have acquired numerous injuries, most of which I have passed off as weak immunity. While I have been absent, I was on assignment, usually out of country. In addition to injuries, I have also acquired several enemies. Because of this, there is a protective detail that monitors the school around the clock, and I carry my own assortment of concealed weapons. Now that I have told you the truth, and because I have kept up my exemplary marks, I think we can come to the agreement that I will be receiving credit for the winter term even as I continue to miss school."