Authors Note: Okay, so some of this might be a bit hard to swallow, but I'm nothing if not extreme.
Disclaimer: Don't own Alex Rider. Probably never will either.
Tom knew something was up the moment Gull told him to report to the Sergeant's office that morning. It was a week after he had received the news about Alex and despite having attended the funeral, he still did not believe that Alex was dead. Before everything had gone wrong they had been brothers in all but blood, and Tom knew that he would somehow, feel, it if Alex had died. However cheesy that sounded.
He reached the Sergeant's office and knocked on the door, feeling slightly nervous. He couldn't think of anything he'd done recently that deserved punishment (unless you counted the incident involving the assault course, paintball guns and Eagle) so he didn't think he was in trouble. Not on his own anyway. All the same, being called into the Sergeant's office for any reason usually had results that the soldier on the receiving end could have done without.
"Enter" came the gruff voice of the Sergeant. Tom swallowed, then walked through the door.
"Ah, Kestrel. I received a letter addressed to you today. From the higher ups at MI6" said the Sergeant with a grimace. "You'd better open it quickly, though I can't think what they want with you. The only person they ever recruited from here, under the age of twenty-one was Fox, one of your predecessors in K-Unit, and he was a special case. Besides, you don't seem the spook type so… Are you alright soldier?" The Sergeant broke off, seeing the look on Tom's face.
"MI6 destroyed my best friend's life sir. With all due respect sir, you'll understand why I feel less than friendly towards them." Tom's voice was taut with supressed anger. "I have no idea why they are contacting me, or why they think I have any interest in what they have to say. Sir" he added, almost forgetting. Fortunately, the Sergeant didn't seem in the mood to care. He was looking at Tom with a gleam of empathy in his eyes. He knew that Tom was referring to Cub, and, having heard the full story, understood completely, Tom's enmity towards MI6. He nodded quickly.
"Well then. Seeing as neither of us knows what the damned people want, I suggest you open that letter."
Tom walked back to the cabin he shared with his unit in a sort of daze. The letter had, in fact, been two letters. The first was from Mrs Jones and read:
Dear Mr Harris,
I understand that you were the best friend of the late Alex Rider and that you were aware of his secret. I am writing to you today for several reasons, first among which is to thank you for keeping this secret, although I am well aware that you did not do this for us, and that you will not want my thanks.
My second reason for writing is to apologise. I am fully aware that what happened to Alex is entirely our fault. Had we just let him be, none of this would have happened. Again, I understand that you probably don't want to hear this, but I must apologise to someone, and you are the only person left to whom what happened really matters. I hope that one day you will be able to derive some, if not comfort, then satisfaction from the fact that we acknowledge our guilt, and also from the fact that all of us are aware that if it wasn't for Alex, the world would not be the same as it is today, and many of us would be dead. You should know that to the government, and all those concerned with the Secret Services, Alex Rider is known as a hero, which is no less than he deserves.
You should be aware that Alex has left practically everything he owned to you. Apart from a couple of memorial items to people who helped him on missions, he has left everything else to you. I also think you should be informed that Alex had fallen out with the Pleasure family, as they expected him to go back to normal, something he could never do. I am telling you this so that you do not feel obliged to give anything Alex left you to any of that family.
Now, a promise. Unless we have genuinely no other option, I shall never involve you, or, by extension, you unit, in any of our operations. It would not be fair, I think to ask for your help, considering the harm we have caused you. I must however, request that you come to the bank at some point next week, to be made fully aware or the contents of Alex's will.
I wish you well in your military career, and will now leave you alone, unless in a case of dire emergency.
Yours sincerely
Tulip Jones, Head of MI6
Tom was somewhat shocked by the letter. He didn't think that Alex would have left him anything, and certainly hadn't expected an apology. The Sergeant had been equally surprised, and inwardly, quite satisfied by the letter.
The second letter had been somewhat shorter, and this one, Tom had not shared with the Sergeant.
Tom
I worked, in a small way, with Alex on a mission once, and promise you that I am a friend. When you come in next week, I must speak with you. Until then DON'T believe everything you hear. Something's wrong here, I can feel it. I'm sure we are missing something vital. No-one will listen though.
Ben Daniels (aka Fox)
Tom was worried about what this letter entailed. If he interpreted it correctly, then Alex was alive somewhere, possibly in danger. He wanted to check with his unit, see whether they thought Ben could be right. Until they sorted that out, he could do nothing.