Chapter 2


The black limo had appeared, the driver had gotten out and had checked his surroundings. He walked around the car, opened the back door and another man stepped out. Alex could see his face clearly through the sight as he too looked around. Then he stuck his head into the car, obviously telling the one remaining that it was safe to step out too. The other back door opened, and a third man stepped out and straightened. He was slightly balding, and the soft sea breeze was blowing the hair he still had - meticulously combed over the bald spot - away. It looked frighteningly ordinary. Alex could imagine him sitting in front of a TV, watching sports, or maybe on the beach, sitting in a deck chair, reading the news paper.

He could not imagine him selling guns to terrorists.

The man was in plain view now. Alex could see him clearly in the cross of the sight. He blew out his breath and held still. His heart was beating slowly now, he could feel his pulse in his fingers. The slightest movement, and he would miss. He narrowed his eyes and counted the thumps from his heart, feeling the rhythm. Then, just in between beats, he pulled the trigger.

He missed.

With a jolt, Alex sat upright. In stark contrast of his dream – not a nightmare, he refused to call it a nightmare – his heart was racing. He blinked in confusion, and it took him several moments to realize somebody was speaking to him. He turned his head sidewards and looked into the concerned face of Craig, who was sitting next to him in the plane that would bring them to Barcelona.

"Are you all right?"

Alex nodded. He looked away and stared out of the window. The only thing he could see were part of the wing of the airplane and clouds as far as the eye could see. Slowly, he tried to relax his clenched fists, bring his breathing under control. His mouth twitched.

He didn't know why this dream always freaked him out. He had had it several times right after the shooting, but he had been free of it for over a month now. He had thought he had been over it, had thought he had left it behind. He had done something terrible, but it was over and done with and he would never do it again. Would he?

"You volunteered..."

He swallowed. He had refused to admit it to himself before, but he had felt a strange and disturbing pride when he had hit the target right on the mark. Was this what it was like to be an assassin? To take pride in killing people? Would there be a next time, and if there was, would it be easier, like they always said it'd be?

"Hello, earth to Alex?"

The question was accompanied by a slight tug on his arm, and he looked at Craig, who studied his face. Alex looked into his dark, merciless eyes.

"Get over it, Alex," he said, "You did a job. You did it well. It's in the past, now look at the present."

They stared at each other for a while, each refusing to look away. Alex felt the resentment at the man rise again. He'd be damned if he would show weakness to him. His eyes hardened. Craig's eyes softened, and then he smiled.

"Good," he said, and looked away.

Uncertain of what had just happened, Alex looked away also. He leaned his head against the head rest of the chair and stared at the chair in front of him, silently glad that he wasn't fully grown yet. He could sit comfortably, and even had room to spare for his knees. Craig's legs were awkwardly bend sideways, and half the time, when the flight attendant was gone, had his legs stretched out in the aisle.

The past three days had been hectic. Alex had gone to see Smithers, who had handed him the usual gadgets, the Game Boy which could be used to find bugs, listen to conversations and contact MI6, this time in the person of Craig Harrison, now Craig Parker. The man had also handed him a new passport with the name of Alex Parker, to which Alex had muttered, "How original." Smithers had laughed.

"What would you have liked for a name then, my dear boy," he had said, "Bond?"

Alex couldn't help himself. He laughed. He laughed so hard he had to sit down. Smithers frowned at that, and Alex stopped, not wanting to give the man the impression that he was hysterical. He felt hysterical though. After giving Alex a stern look, Smithers pointed at the date on the passport.

"We aged you a year," he said, "You're now sixteen. Otherwise they won't let you into the discotheques. Since Miss Carnegie is also sixteen, you can always go where she goes."

That had quieted Alex down. Sombrely, he studied the passport, a piece of paper his friends would do anything for to get their hands on. Go into the clubs. Drink alcohol. Seduce girls. All government sanctioned. He had to admit, a year ago he too would have loved to get his hands on this.

"Glad to see our government isn't too concerned about ethics," he said sarcastically.

Smithers nodded vigorously. "I agree with you, my boy, absolutely. But we all know you're a sensible, responsible boy who wouldn't misuse this in any way."

Alex looked up. "Do you know what it is they want me to do?" he demanded.

Smithers looked away. "Just be careful," he said.

He fidgeted for a moment, and Alex started to wonder what had the man so flustered. Smithers was usually very straightforward, saying whatever was on his mind.

"Um," he said, "I don't know how to bring this up... after Ian died... and you're living with Miss Starbright, and she's a woman... has anyone ever, I mean, do you know about.... Blunt asked me to talk to you, you know, tell you..."

Alex stared at him, not knowing if he should be embarrassed or burst out laughing. Blunt asked Smithers to give him The Talk? On what planet did these people live? He settled for a surprised chuckle, and put his hand on Smithers's arm to stop him.

"Smithers," he said, trying to keep his tone light, "I talked to Ian ages ago. You don't have to tell me about the birds and the bees, all right? It's not like I'm going to be doing anything... like that."

"You never know," Smithers muttered.

He started to rummage through his things, pushing all sorts of seemingly ordinary stuff aside, a ballpoint, a toaster, a light bulb. He had his back to Alex, and they were both quiet for a while. Then he suddenly turned around and was his old, busybody self again.

"There's something else," he said, "Come along, I want to show you something."

Curious, Alex followed the overweight MI6 man to the connecting room. It was surprisingly clean and uncluttered. Several tables were standing against the wall at the other end, and on them were a variety of safes. Small ones with mechanical locks, larger ones that made the table they were standing on bend, and one which looked like it had been in a fire, with its door open. Smithers walked to a small safe standing on a table on the far right.

"We examined Carnegie's purchases over the last few years, as you know. Somehow, he has access to a large amount of money. He bought a house in Calella de Mar in Spain, which you'll be visiting, and a few months ago he ordered a safe and had it shipped to his house there." He pointed at the safe. "This one. We think that whatever it is he's hiding, he'll have put it in his safe. You're going to have to open it."

Alex stared at him in awe, and then started grinning. "You're going to teach me how to open a safe?"

Smithers frowned at him. "Only this type. And you can't use it for anything else."

Alex blinked at him, giving him his most innocent look while thinking about the safe at his school that held his favourite pocket knife. "Of course not," he said.

Smithers gave him a hard look and let it rest. He beckoned Alex to come closer and turned back to the safe.

"It's a simple model," he said, "A mechanical combination lock. Only good for withstanding casual intruders. Most burglars are in a hurry, they won't bother trying to open a safe when they can easily steal a laptop or the silverware. But for somebody who is interested in the contents of the safe, this is hardly a challenge. With some practice, I'm sure you'll be able to do it."

He started dialling the knob, using swift movements and hiding what he was doing from Alex by placing his big body in front of it. The safe opened, and Smithers stepped aside to let Alex see the small interior of the safe. Alex looked at it for a moment, and then back at Smithers.

"Right," the man said.

He grabbed Alex's arm and steered him to a table on the other side of the room. He picked something up and showed it to Alex.

"This is the interior of the lock. Look closely."

He started turning the knob, and Alex could see the notches turn, aligning them so that the gap they formed allowed the small metal bar to fall in. The lever attached to the metal bar was lifted and the lock opened.

"Looks simple," Alex said.

Smithers laughed. "This design has been in use for almost a hundred years," he said, "And it's still very potent because of its simplicity. Now. First of all, the easiest way to open the safe is by simply finding out the combination."

Alex rolled his eyes and was about to say something, but Smithers held up his finger.

"Every safe comes with a try out combination. Now I don't think it will be the case here, but many people never bother to change it. I'll give you a list of the most common try out combinations later, they are worth a try. You can always resort to more difficult tactics when they don't work. Just memorize them."

Alex nodded. He was pretty sure Carnegie would have changed the combination. The safe at his school however...

"Another possibility, and you'll be surprised how many times that happens, but again I don't think it'll be the case here, is look for the combination somewhere in the vicinity of the safe. Many people write it down. Once, I saw a safe that had a note stuck on it with the combination."

"This guy is head of security," Alex interrupted him, "I don't think he'll be that stupid."

Smithers shrugged. "Just telling you the possibilities, my boy," he said, "As I was saying. If you're lucky, again, he'll have put the safe on day lock. This means that he has closed the safe, but not cancelled out the combination. You can either just open it, or only dial the last number of it. This too is worth a try."

Alex was starting to get impatient. He was sure Carnegie would be very careful with his safe. He wanted to know how to open the safe when it was completely locked, and without knowing the combination. Despite himself, he was starting to get very interested.

"If everything else fails," Smithers continued, "You have to try lock manipulation. This is very hard, requires a lot of practice and a good ear. But here's where we come in to make it a little easier for you. Also, we already know how many wheels the lock has because we know what safe Carnegie has. Your new Game Boy has an extra function to it. You attach this..." He showed Alex a small device with a thin wire and a small sucker attached to it, "... to the safe just above the dial, and plug the wire into the Game Boy. The Game Boy will detect the contact points in the lock for you, hopefully. When you have the numbers of the combination, the only thing left to do is try them all out. That way, you'll be able to open the lock."

He held up his hand when Alex tried to say something. "This is not as easy as it sounds. You'll need to practice."

So that was what Alex had been doing in the past three days. Opening a safe with the aid of his Game Boy. Frustration had run high when it turned out next to impossible in the beginning. On the last day, he finally got the hang of it, succeeding in opening the safe four out of five times. He hadn't been satisfied, but it'd have to do. He could imagine it would be a lot harder when he had to do it on the actual safe, in a strange house, under pressure of discovery.

The high whine of the engines changed, and Alex shook himself out of his musings about opening safes. A soft ping made him look up at the signal for putting the safety belt on, and he pushed his tray back in its place. Next to him, Craig was doing the same.

"Well," he said, turning to Alex, "Here we go. Let's have some fun."

Alex frowned at him, but didn't say anything for fear of being overheard. Craig laughed at his expression. His laugh sounded fake though. Alex took a good look at him, and noticed for the first time the man looked strained.

"Come on, Alex, aren't you excited to get into the discotheques and all? You know that if you're a year younger, you're not allowed in, right? We're on holiday, son. Have some fun. Meet girls."

Alex didn't see anything remotely funny about being coerced into going on a so called 'holiday'. And he wasn't there to 'meet girls', he was there to meet a specific girl, try and befriend her and then betray her. He sunk deeper into his chair.

"Come on, look at it from the bright side, Alex," Craig said, and then, bending over and whispering in Alex's ear, "At least you won't have to kill anybody this time."

Alex glared at him. Craig smiled wickedly.

"Who knows," he grinned, "You might even get lucky."

After that, the conversation became very one-sided.