Quick AN here, I am currently (as of the 20/01/15) going back through and tidying up all the existing chapters of this fic. I wont be editing them extensively, so the earlier chapters are likely to not be up to the same standard as the later ones. I will however be getting rid of any typos I notice, removing ANs that are no longer relevant and generally fixing things up a bit. After that I'll actually start work on the first new chapter in two years. Two years! Damn.

Oh, and I think it's worth mentioning that I originally started this before Scorpia Rising was released, so it follows the canon up until Crocodile Tears but in this AU none of the events in Scorpia Rising ever occur.

The Beginning of the End

There was one reason Alex was back there again, and one only. Or at least, that was what Alex kept telling himself.

'This is the last time your employment will be required…'

Mr Crawley's words kept echoing in his head. It couldn't possibly be true, could it? What would make them decide to actually leave him alone after all this time? Alex could just about make himself believe that finding out would justify him returning to the 'bank' once more.

Of course, it might just be a ploy to get Alex there so they could issue him with this one last mission. Or they could always simply claim that he had misheard the words or made them up. Who would he be able to complain to anyway if they went back on what Mr Crawley had said? It wasn't as though anyone would believe him…

But there was always a chance, no matter how slim, that they would be true to their word and finally allow him to return to some semblance of a normal teenager's life.

'Mr Blunt will see you now, Mr Rider,' the lady sitting behind the smart wooden secretaries desk spoke up in a polite voice, devoid of any real emotion.

Alex rose from the dark leather chair he had been waiting in for the last ten minutes and followed the secretary through the maze of bullet-proof, glass fronted offices.

He could have found his way there by himself though. He had always been good at taking note of where he was going and learning how to navigate himself around places.

All around Alex were the normal sounds and goings on he would expect to find in a normal office; the loud click of the receptionist's shoes, phones ringing and people bustling past with wads of documents held tight against their chests. Even this close to MI6's heart, it still kept up the façade of a normal work place. But of course, as well as handling top-secret information, normal things really did have to happen here. Someone had to go make the tea and coffee after all.

Soon they reached a familiar plain black door. The receptionist opened it and informed the occupants of the room beyond that 'Mr Rider' had arrived and then left, giving Alex a quick glance as she passed him. She didn't like seeing Alex there. It wasn't her job to ask questions, but she couldn't help wondering why a teenager kept coming back here, to the head-quarters of MI6. It unnerved her.

Alex stepped into Mr Blunt's office, closing the door behind himself with a 'snick'.

'Ah, Alex. How nice of you to join us,' Mr Blunt said without looking up from a report he was studying over the top of this wire-framed glasses. Alex fought back the urge to reply scathingly. He'd made it sound as though Alex had randomly decided to visit him at a rather awkward time. Instead he merely gave a small, tight nod of his head in acknowledgement.

Alex briefly caught the eye of Mrs Jones who was, as always, standing behind Mr Blunt and to his right. She gave him what she probably thought was a reassuring smile, but it didn't quite have the right effect on Alex. If Tulip Jones felt the need to try and reassure him, things really must be bad. As hard as he tried, meeting Mrs Jones' eyes was still hard. He had tried to kill her at one point after all. She might appear to have decided to let it slide, but Alex still felt a prickle of shame in his stomach whenever he thought about what he had tried to do.

After a few, awkward moments of silence it became clear that Mr Blunt was not about to start the conversation. Alex felt a stab of annoyance, but fought to keep it out of his voice as he asked brusquely, 'You wanted to see me?'

Mr Blunt paused and slowly laid the folder he'd been studying back down onto his desk.

'Yes,' he replied simply.

Without waiting to find out if he had more to say, Alex blurted out, 'Is what Crawley said, true?'

Finally the head of MI6 looked up at him, his eyebrows raised slightly. 'No doubt he's said many things. How am I supposed to know if any of them are true or not?' His voice was infuriatingly calm and off hand.

Alex's hands balled into loose fists at his sides as he replied, 'You know what I mean. About you stopping using me.' Alex swore he saw Mr Blunt silently mouth the words back to himself, as though he was an English teacher mocking him for the poorly phrased sentence.

He had only been here a minute or two, but already Alex wanted to kill someone. Namely Alan Blunt.

Perhaps suspecting how Alex was feeling, Mrs Jones decided to be the one to finally give him his answer. 'Our new Prime Minister has decided he doesn't like the idea of a teenager working for MI6.'

Alex muttered under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like, 'Hear, hear,' before asking, 'So why am I here then? You could have just told me this over the phone.' There was a slightly venomous edge to his voice now.

This time it was boss of MI6 who spoke. 'The Prime Minister has agreed with us, quite reluctantly, that we need you one last time. After this we will never recruit you as a minor again.'

Alex hated the self satisfied smile that curled ever so slightly at the man's thin lips. It didn't take a genius to work out that his words meant that Alex wasn't free forever. In a year's time when he was sixteen they would probably ensnare him again, or if not then, when he was eighteen, or at the latest, twenty-one. But he would be ready to face up to them then once and for all, Alex promised himself.

Still in that frame of mind, he asked carefully. 'And what would happen if I refused this mission? Would you just leave me alone?' He very much doubted the answer would be yes, but it was always worth a try.

'No…' Damn. 'These orders come from the very top. You can't refuse them. You know from past experience what sorts of things are likely to happen if you try. Anyway, all you need to do is complete this one simple mission for us and you'll be free from us...'

For now, Alex finished in his head.

He reviewed his options in his head. It didn't take long. As much as he hated to, Alex sighed in defeat and enquired, 'What is it this time? Has a cat burglar stolen the crown jewels? Are Martians invading the USA? Or are mutant bunny rabbits taking over Europe?'

Alex could have sworn Mrs Jones smiled just slightly at his words. The head of MI6 simply ignored his flippant remarks altogether. He picked up the file in front of him, the one he'd been reading earlier, and flicked through it.

'All over the world there are new reports of missing people on a daily bases. There are also many more disappearances that go unreported altogether. People who are living on the streets or who otherwise have no fixed address are especially vulnerable to this. Often, they either have no one who cares enough to report their disappearance, or they were already classed as missing in the first place. So when these 'missing' people, actually do go missing, it can often be hard to spot.'

Alex shook his head in confusion and interrupted, 'I don't understand what you're getting at here.'

Mrs Jones stepped in to explain the situation plainly to him. 'In the last couple of months, a lot of people living homeless on the streets of England's major cities, especially London, have been going missing. As Mr Blunt has said, people going missing is not at all uncommon, but the sheer number is worrying. It's hard to tell just how many homeless people have being going missing in the last couple of months. And we suspect it may have been happening on this scale for much longer than that, but because most of these people have already fallen off the government's radar, we just don't know for sure.' Mrs Jones paused and the slightly disgruntled head of MI6 took the chance to continue outlining the problem to Alex.

'Yes, and unfortunately, the police often don't pay all that much attention to a homeless person complaining that someone they know has gone missing. They still record it of course, most of the time, but it's the sort of thing that tends to not get looked into very often. Or at least, that was the case until some of the reported missing started to turn up. Dead.'

Dun, dun, dun! The plot thickens… Alex thought to himself. Though, as much as he would hate to admit it, he was intrigued by what he was being told. Not that that meant he wanted to get involved in any crazy plans they had involving him.

'At first it was just one body, then more started to turn up. Some had been dead for a long time, others had been partially cremated. Many where found simply discarded in back alleys. Though the method of disposal has varied dramatically, nearly all were missing people found with similar...' He trailed off briefly, as though choosing his next words carefully.

'...Odd wounds. We suspect either a group of people have taken it upon themselves to try and rid the streets of the homeless, or that a sort of would-be cult is killing them as part of some twisted ritual or other. We want you…'

'Ah, here it comes…' Alex muttered under his breath.

'…to pose as a teenager who has recently run away from home and ended up on the streets. You'll ask around, see if any of the other homeless have seen anything suspicious or know people who have gone missing and try and see if you can find out who's behind all this.'

Here Mr Blunt stopped. He leant forward on his black leather swivel chair, put his elbows on his posh mahogany desk and clasped his hands together as though in prayer. Perhaps he was. Was there a saint of MI6 bosses he could be beseeching to for help? Or was he praying to God that Alex would agree to help them? Somehow he couldn't see Alan Blunt as much of a God-fearing man. Here at the heart of MI6, he practically was the God of his own little world anyway, why bother with another?

Alex narrowed his eyes and thought about it for a second. 'Why me? Why not some other agent?'

'You would not be the first agent we have put on this case. Three others have tried to get to the bottom of this. One was killed in the same way as many others were and the other two are out there still but have found out nothing at all.'

'Yes. But still, why me?'

'What Mr Blunt didn't mention,' Mrs Jones replied, 'Is that as well as being homeless, most of the victims were under thirty and many of them were just teenagers. The agent who died was twenty-six. The other two are in their forties.'

'So you figured that since I'm 'just a teenager'…'

'Oh no, never 'just a teenager'…' Mr Blunt interrupted, speaking the words quietly, as though to himself.

Mildly disconcerted, Alex changed tack slightly. 'Right, umm, but I mean, since I'm a teenager, you think that will mean I'm more likely to get attacked, and that way, if I survive, I will be able to tell you what's going on?'

'Yes.'

Well that was reassuring.

'We have a background story written up for you already.'

'Of course you do…' Alex said with barely-concealed contempt.

As usual Mr Blunt ignored the remark. 'Those living on the streets usually have problematic pasts that they don't want to talk about themselves, so it's unlikely anyone will interrogate you much about it. However, you still need a cover story.'

At this Mrs Jones walked over and handed him an envelope. He wondered vaguely where it had been before she gave it to him. He definitely hadn't spotted it out anywhere before hand.

'This contains everything you need to know.' She told him before walking back to her usual place behind the head of MI6, standing there like either the angel or the devil who whispered things in his ears. Alex wasn't sure which.

'A nondescript car will arrive at your house at 11 AM on Monday morning. Make sure you've memorized the file by then.'

Alex nodded reluctantly. It was Saturday today; he still had plenty of time to go through it. And it wasn't as though it was a very thick envelope…

'Oh yes, and one last thing before you go, make sure you see Smithers before you leave.'

With that Alan Blunt pulled the file he had been looking at originally back in front of him and resumed flicking through it as though Alex wasn't even there.

With a mutter of, 'I'll see my self out then…' He slouched out the room; closing the door a little harder then he had planned to behind himself. It was only once he had started moving again that he realised that at no one point had he actually agreed to all this. Once again he had ended up with another stupid mission.

At least this is the last time… Alex told himself, trying to feel upbeat about it but failing.

Once the door slammed shut Alan Blunt looked up from his papers and Mrs Jones spoke up. 'Why didn't we use Agent Ward? He's only twenty four and probably had as much chance of running into the murderers as Alex does.'

'Yes.' Blunt agreed. 'But though Alex might be much younger then Ward, I suspect he would have a much higher chance of surviving this then Ward would. But then of course, you have always had a soft spot for the boy, haven't you?'

Taking no notice of Mrs Jones spluttered reply, he continued, 'this will be his last mission, remember? The new Prime Minister is far too scared of the truth about Alex reaching the public's ears to allow us to use him again.' It was clear from his voice he felt nothing but contempt for the man.

'Until he's sixteen…' Tulip Jones sighed.

'Until he's sixteen.' Mr Blunt confirmed grimly.