AN; OK so I guess I need to explain some things, like why MI-6 didn't just use Jack to force Alex out of hiding, and such. Well the answer is that there was originally a prolog to this story that explained this, but I thought it wasn't needed for the story. Though now I can see that isn't necessarily true. So if enough people review and ask for it I will add the prolog. I also wanted to say that the reason I didn't use Russian for Alex and Yassen's tête-à-tête is that I couldn't find an online translator that spelled Russian phonetically. If any one knows a good one I will be more then happy to change it in the first chapter. I just wanted to give y'all a heads up that I won't be updating for a month or so because I'm off to Europe and I don't want to take my laptop with me. I will however update the moment I get back. Scouts honor.
Ok so enough with the author's note.
Happy reading
Lavalata
Operation; Black Night
Chapter Two; Learning to Trust
"How many of our bugs are still operational?" Mrs. Jones asked Blunt as she walked into the debriefing room.
"Three of them, Zach Trent, Veronica Charles, and Kale Firth." Blunt turned in his high backed black leather chair and slipped on a pair of earphones. "Our agents seem to have some interesting sleeping habits."
"Oh?" Mrs. Jones said.
"Well if our bugs are working properly Zach Trent is having wild sex, possibly with more then one partner. And Veronica Charles wrangled a private show from all five members of Queen." Blunt's mouth twitched in what would have been an all out laugh from anyone else. "I forgot how loud Freddie Mercury is."
"He's dead." Mrs. Jones said absently, opening a file and taking a seat in a chair next to Blunt.
"No he was just relocated."
"Hmm, who does the third bug belong to?" Mrs. Jones asked.
"Kale Firth, I think he was too sore to check his room. Agents Johnson and Frankston worked him over pretty good." Blunt opened the file on Kale Firth.
"I've reprimanded them both but the damage is done. Do you think he needs medical attention?" Mrs. Jones pulled out a sheet of paper that held a record of Firth's medical history.
"No he made it to his room; with the help of Alex Rider. I think he'll be alright." Blunt snapped his folder closed.
"How do you think this is going to work out?" Mrs. Jones said sitting down in her own chair.
"What do you mean?" Blunt asked.
"Half of them have been working against each other for most of their careers. They work alone. And I still don't know about putting Alex and Yassen within a hundred miles of each other."
"They will adapt or they won't." Blunt said. "Tomorrow we will find out which."
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Squish! Alex hit the ground for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The mud drenched him from head to toe, seeping into his fatigues and chilling Alex to the bone. They had all been running obstacle courses since six in the morning.
Alex crawled forward on his elbows and knees, his assault rifle- his unloaded assault rifle- held ready as he made his way under two hundred feet of barbed wire. This was the fourth time he had made the grueling journey through the five mile long obstacle course. It was filled with rock walls, rope bridges that would fall apart after a certain weight had been put on it, and lengths of water nine feet deep. Every time they went through it things got harder and harder.
Alex paused for a minuet and looked back.
"How are you doing Jag?" Alex called to the man behind him. He had read all about Jag last night in the file. He was twenty-one, with training in Krav Maga and a degree in bio-physics, and ancient warfare.
"Ok, I hate this mud shit though. You?" Jag used his rifle to prop himself up out of the mud.
"Shit is in all the wrong places." Alex wriggled forward a little further and was rewarded with a face full of mud, sprayed by the boot of the kid in front of him. Alex grunted but didn't say anything. He was already caked in the stuff and one more face full wouldn't hurt.
"Sorry." The kid said. Alex thought for a minuet and pulled up what he had read about him. Joseph Simmons, code named Coyote, sixteen years old, brown hair, green eyes, born in Cornwall England, training in martial arts, ranked an expert marksman, and also responsible for hacking into Microsoft's headquarters and changing their screen savers to say 'I Love Apple.' Alex had only met him briefly that morning, but he had to hand it to the kid. He did have stamina. Joseph had managed to stay ahead of Alex all day.
"No problem. How are you holding up Joseph?" Alex asked.
"I'm alright, and it's Coyote." Coyote turned and offered his hand. Alex smiled through the mud and shook it.
"Hawke." Alex motioned behind him, "and this is Jag." Jag nodded his muck covered head.
"Nice to meet you." Coyote rolled out from under the barbed wire and held out his hand first to Alex and then to Jag.
"How long do you think they're gonna make us run this damn course?" Coyote said as the three of them jogged toward a climbing wall.
"Till we can't move if I know MI-6." Alex said letting his gun swing around to hang at his back and pulling himself up onto the wall. Jag and Coyote were right behind him. They made it to the top of the wall, Jag was clutching his side but his eyes told Alex not to comment.
Down the other side was a pool, deep and muddy after having the 'team' swim through it. Alex heaved a sigh of resignation and jumped feet first into the water. He swam to the other side and had almost pulled himself out when he was offered another hand. This one belonged to Yassen Gregorovich.
"Need a hand Alex?" Yassen asked his accent flawless.
"Go to hell, Yassen." Alex snapped. He hauled him self the rest of the way out and brushed past Yassen to the next obstacle. A pit with logs sticking up out of it creating a complicated path. The idea being to use the tops of the logs like stepping stones to get to the other side. Alex made it half way across before Yassen caught up with him. Most people wouldn't have realized the blow was coming but he wasn't most people.
Alex had been expecting it as soon as he got ahead of the SCORPIA assassin; Yassen rammed his booted foot into the back of Alex's knee. Or at least he would have if Alex's knee had still been there. At the last minuet Alex launched himself forward, dropping into the pit and grabbing hold of the log in front of him. Yassen over balanced and dropped as well, and as he passed Alex managed a snap kick to his shoulder. Yassen hit the ground in a roll coming up in front of Alex. He turned and saluted, then continued on the course. Point one Yassen.
God Alex hated this place.
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Alex ran the course three more times before they were allowed to come in, Jag and Coyote finished with him. Alex liked them. Coyote was young, but smart and Jag's biting humor kept them from collapsing from exhaustion. Still, trust was something none of them gave easily. And they kept their distance, never talking about anything personal.
The thirteen of them stood in the large grassy space in the middle of the course, dripping with sweat, grime, and all manner of other shit, panting and only just managing to hold their head's up.
The drill sergeant marched back and forth in front of them, his own fatigues sparklingly clean.
"You will deposit your guns in the trunk, then line up facing the fence. You will place you hands behind your back and stand still while the agents cuff you. GO!" He shouted, Alex wondered if they taught that shout to all drill sergeants or if they searched the ranks high and low for people born with it. No one moved. It seemed as though the 'team' wasn't going to comply as readily as they had the night before.
Sure they were tiered, probably more tiered then they had been last night. But after a whole day of the Sergeant yelling at them and giving orders, of agents tying their hands up and alarms blaring at six in the morning they had all just about had enough.
Yassen was the first to act, instead of dumping his rifle in the trunk he slung it off his shoulder and tossed it on the ground in front of him. The brown haired man, whose name was Cody Michaels did the same, the others all following suit. The agents at the side of the field began to move in, sensing trouble. This was going to be good.
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Back in the debriefing room Mrs. Jones and Director Blunt watched the monitor of the training field.
"This should be good." Blunt said.
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Three hours later Alex was back in the bunker in his cell nursing a bruised cheek, and split knuckles. But it had been worth it. They had beaten the shit out of the agents, and they probably would have continued to do so if a squad of marines hadn't been sent in to subdue them. They may have been pissed but they weren't stupid. The surrender was quick and relatively painless. And if they happened to trod on a few of the agents as they were marched back to the bunker under gun point it was just a bonus.
Still the message was clear. Don't push us to hard, or there would be consequences.
A knock sounded at Alex's door and he got up to open it. It was Wolf, baring a split lip and a beer.
"Want one?" He asked. "Fox smuggled them in. We figured we had better drink them before they're confiscated." Alex nodded his head and Wolf lead Alex out to where Cody Michaels or Fox was handing out beer bottles to every one over eighteen. Alex took the one passed to him and smiled his thanks before joining Jag on the decrepit couch.
"How's your head?" Alex asked, smirking.
"Not to bad, how's your jaw?" Alex just grinned; he had been itching for a fight ever since MI-6 had picked him up. Now he felt infinitely better, even if he had a few minor lacerations.
Wolf sat down next to Alex and clinked his and Alex's beer together.
"Cheers." Wolf said, taking another swig. "I'm Wolf," he said to Jag.
"Jag." Every one knew introductions weren't really necessary. They all had the files, but it just seemed weird not to introduce them selves.
"How are Eagle and Snake?" Alex asked Wolf, as he took a swig of beer.
"Good, last I heard they were working for the army in the south east. We write to each other some times." Wolf said, his eyes following Yassen who was playing pool with Veronica Charles. "Do you know who he is?" Wolf asked Alex.
"What's in the file? Or do you mean who he really is." Alex murmured, dropping his voice so only Jag and Wolf could hear him.
"I thought I recognized him from some where. Who is he?" Wolf said, keeping his own voice low and hardly moving his lips.
"His name is right, Yassen Gregorovich. He was a SCORPIA assassin, last I saw him he still was. Of course last I saw him he was also dead." Alex explained.
"You've had run-ins with him before?" Jag asked.
"A couple of times. He's good. Actually he's one of the best. We don't really get on." Alex took another swig of beer. "Look, MI-6 obviously has some thing on him to keep him in line. Or they think they do." Alex paused to glance over at Veronica and Yassen, they looked friendly. In fact Alex would bet that they knew each other from some where. "Any one got any cards?" Alex asked breaking the heavy silence.
"Sure," the dark haired girl said, blowing a stream of smoke out of her mouth, and pulling a deck from her cargo pants pocket. "I'm Ace." She said sitting down in an armchair and shuffling the cards. Alex thought for a minuet, her real name was Mariska Devanov. She had worked for the Russian Secret Service, and had martial arts and gymnastics training.
"That's Hawke, Jag, and I'm Wolf." Wolf said picking up his cards.
"Hey Sting!" She called, "come on lets whip these guys at poker." The blond girl smiled and joined the group.
"I'm Amelia." She said, tossing down two cards. "I want two." She said. The game progressed, with wins going mostly to Ace and Wolf. Eventually the game dispersed, Wolf and Sting heading to their rooms, and Jag playing a round out pool with Coyote.
"I know you." Ace said, smiling at Alex.
"Huh?" Alex said, confused he was pretty sure he would remember meeting Ace. She was one of those girls who made quite the impression. "I don't think so." He said.
Ace laughed and shuffled the cards again. "In Berlin. Of course you were to busy running from MI-6 to notice." The memory clicked in Alex's mind. She was the one who had shot him with the knock-out dart allowing MI-6 to capture him.
"Bitch." Alex said, Ace laughed again.
"I didn't get a chance to apologize before, so sorry."
"S'ok."
"So how'd they finally get you?" She asked. "What are they holding over your head?"
"How do you know they're holding some thing over my head?" Alex asked gulping down the last of his beer.
"How do you think they got any of us?" Ace said propping her feet on the coffee table. "People like us aren't really the volunteer type. Sting's sister is in foster care, if she doesn't do what they say they're going to put her in an institution. Coyote's got an arrest record as long as the thymes and he gets put into a detention center unless he cooperates. They have to have insurance with high risk agents. If they don't things could go wrong very fast."
"So what do they have on you?" Alex asked.
"My brother's visa. He goes back to Russia if I step out." Ace tucked the cards back in her pocket.
"Would that be so bad?" He said.
"My brother is a wanted man in Russia. So yes, it would be that bad. So what do they have on you? I've read your dossier and you don't have any family. A girlfriend perhaps?" Ace smiled and ran her fingers through her short dark brown hair, the spikes springing back into place.
"They've got my old guardian Jack." Alex said, trying to take another sip of beer only to find it empty.
"You see MI-6 does not trust anyone. Not even their own people. Do you know that they have threatened to send Wolf's old team on a suicide mission unless he keeps working for them? Fucking MI-6." Ace threw her beer bottle into the trash can. "Well good night Hawke, it was nice to finally meet you." She unfolded her self from her chair and strode off to her room.
"Fucking MI-6." Alex agreed. Well tomorrow was another day.
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AN- OK so I know it was short but I am just so busy! I will update in one month, and I'm kinda expecting some flames because I think this chapter sucked. You know how some chapters just seem to write them selves? This so wasn't one of them. Don't hate me! The next one will be better, I promise.
Thanks for reading
Lavalata
