Initially, Alex had planned on calling the CIA to get them to pick off the group assassins who were tailing him. It was Byrne's decision to pair him with a useless partner for his mission, and it would be his responsibility to take care of the older agent. But when the crew of assassins landed a shot on Alex's arm - one that would've pierced his heart if he hadn't turned instinctively the moment before - he knew that government trained agents would be sitting ducks to their snipers. Alex decided to discontinue the mission for their safety, instead putting on the bulletproof vest that he hated so much, and fleeing.
The two agents had known of several organizations who wanted them dead, but with no way to confirm their thoughts, their only option was to evade the assassins for the sake of their mission. Together, they zigzagged across cities, trying their best to shake the assassins off their trail. After weeks of sneaking around at night and several exchanges of heavy fire, the assassins had lost two men while Alex was now flying solo. Alex had found his temporary partner's body mutilated on the street a few days after they had split up to regroup in another city. A phoenix was branded on the dead man's cheek, the angry red welts staring up at Alex with a wordless warning, the assassins identifying themselves at last.
The bird was the poster-boy for rebirth, of the new rising from the ashes of something great, of a continued life of a legend. But in this case, the bird signified something infinitely less beautiful. PHOENIX quite literally rose from the ashes of SCORPIA, when MI6 agents failed to check to ensure that everyone inside the final SCORPIA building had truly died, and a low level tech agent managed to crawl out from the rubble and get discovered by passing civilians. Luka Gavrilovic received emergency medical treatment and stayed in hospital for two days before being taken away by MI6. However, within those two days, a woman visited him. Zuelia Gavrilovic was the sister of the low level SCORPIA agent and the head of a minor gang. But she had not visited him to say goodbye. She knew her brother well, and she knew that he would not have fled the building before taking some valuable information with him. Walking straight past his hospital room, she headed straight for the personal belongings he had with him when he was found; a bundle of burnt clothing and a large leather journal.
The final head of SCORPIA, Zeljan Kurst, was a paranoid man who avoided using technology in any way possible, instead putting pen to paper when creating his devious plans. He was so convinced that others were spying on him that he never threw his journals away, instead hiding some and burning others to throw away the ashes. In the chaos before the MI6 arrived, Luka had managed to steal an old journal of Kurst's, one that detailed how he managed his initial rise to power as well as the inner hierarchy of SCORPIA. Without waiting for her brother's death, Zuelia put the notebook to good use, soon transforming her gang into a major terrorist organization and renaming it PHOENIX, as a last token of appreciation to SCORPIA's efforts.
PHOENIX was also the reason Alex had returned to the espionage scene. Life in America had been boring, but safe, with no criminals daring to approach him after the downfall of SCORPIA. He lived his high school life plainly; skipping PE classes to avoid the change room, studying hard instead to keep his GPA up, sharing few words with anyone other than the Pleasures. Sports were also no longer an option, and having broken up with Sabrina soon after moving in with the Pleasures, there was no longer anything particularly interesting in his life. He had no reason to return to the UK or stay in the US, until Mrs. Jones called him after three years of silence, requesting his help in dealing with a new terrorist group named PHOENIX. Edward Pleasure had caused quite a scene at their house in San Francisco when he found out about the call, threatening to publish an article about the Riders on his blog and reveal everything to the public. When he calmed down enough for a rational conversation, Alex explained that civilian life hadn't worked out for him and he would be moving back to Britain to join forces with MI6 again. Unsurprisingly, the Pleasures expressed their extreme disapproval, but nothing could stop him from boarding a plane weeks after graduation, leaving a trail of apologies and tears behind him.
After completing the forms to become a MI6 agent, he and Mrs. Jones worked day and night to gather information on the mystery organization that had sprouted overnight. He went through the necessary refresher courses, easily settling back into the rhythm of being a spy. The joint mission with the CIA was not his first mission back, but it was the first physical encounter he had with PHOENIX. The brutal murder of Alex's partner did nothing to scare him off, but instead filled him with a sense of purpose and exhilaration.
He moved more quickly and quietly than he had when he had to babysit his partner, vowing to uncover more about the unknown agency and return alive. But the assassins seemed to be playing a twisted game, letting the agent flee for days at a time before shooting without warning, "accidently" missing him every time. It was a real life version of cat and mouse, and Alex was the only one worse for wear.
He knew he needed backup.
Alex was aware Ziva had finally found a home in Washington, so he had wanted to avoid calling her. But he had been driven into a corner, and she was the only other one nearby whose skill rivaled that of the PHOENIX assassins. So he hurried out onto the streets, disguised as another tourist touring the nation's capital. Alex pickpocketed an old grandmother while waiting for a crosswalk, sliding her phone out of her jacket pocket and into his own. He ducked into a nearby alleyway before checking that it was an older, password-less model as he had hoped. He flipped the phone open and dialed a number he had memorized years ago, fingers crossed she had kept the phone. Alex had been mildly amused by the argument on the other end of the call but was soon distracted by spray of bullets hitting the wall behind him, one scraping his left shoulder.
"Shit," he swore aloud, cutting off the reply on the other end of the call. He dove to the ground immediately, launching himself behind a stack of cardboard boxes for cover. He tucked the phone between his uninjured shoulder and his ear, slipping a gun out of the waistband of his pants and quickly returning fire, trying to avoid injuring his shoulder any further. "Ziva, they're ex-SCORPIA. I managed to get put two of them out of action a while back, but I don't know how many others are with them. I need you to track this call and get me out of here. I'll be hiding, so when you get close, identify yourself, alright?" He turned the volume down on the phone without waiting for a response, sprinting further down the alley to look for cover. He ducked under a large overhang, hidden from anyone who could be watching from the rooftops, pausing before crouching behind a dumpster and raising the phone to his ear again.
"Alex? Everything still okay?
Ziva was not the safest driver at the best of times, and having the life of a good friend hinging on her speed did nothing to help things. She sprinted down the stairs and exited the building, wordlessly slipping into her car before speeding off the curb with a fanfare of tire squeals and engine rumbles.
"Alex?" She set the phone on speaker and tossed it lightly into the empty seat beside her. "Everything still okay?"
After a heart-stopping moment of silence, a ragged chuckle came from the other side. "Ah, don't make me laugh, Ziva. I think I may have a cracked rib."
The NCIS agent curved hard around a corner, other cars honking profanities at her. "You think you'll need an ambulance?" she asked through gritted teeth, swerving narrowly between cars as she continued to speed up. "I can call one right now."
A click of metal against metal sounded from her phone, followed by the distinctive sound of a gun being reloaded. "I'm fine, thanks. I think a first aid kit would do me good though." Gunshots rang through the other end of the call, sounding distorted through the dated speaker on her phone.
Ziva pressed the accelerator parallel to the ground, whipping past quiet neighbourhoods and quickly approaching the bar where Alex had hidden. "Give me two minutes. I'll be there."
