"You've been a good boy, Alex," The man said, his tone gentle and kind. Like an old ancient grandfather out on Halloween night giving kids candy. Okay, maybe that was a little bit creepy. But that was honestly what Alex was feeling at the moment. In addition to that, he felt cornered like a jackal. Hold on, do jackals get cornered?
"I want updates on my father," Alex demanded as he slid the files he had taken from the animal shelter across the table. It made a sandpaper sound across the wooden table.
Brilliant afternoon light shone through the glass panel but their table was situated so far that only a very small stream of light was about to lay finger on the edge of their table. The man slowly mixed his coffee with seemingly little to no interest in the file Alex had slid toward him. If Alex hadn't known the man better, he would say that he really had no interest. The slight satisfied smile and switch of glance toward the file told him otherwise.
"Day forty-two," In return, the man slid an image toward him, "He's looking quite better than we expected."
Alex took a glance before narrowing his eyes, "This is the same picture you show me the first three times."
"Printer ran out of ink," The man shrugged as he took a sip, smacking his lips together to savor the flavor before letting out a satisfied sigh, "My apologies. But I will be sure to point out the depletion of supply to the boss."
"Yeah, run along and scurry to your boss," Alex sneered as he sat back, his own drink untouched.
The man merely continued his coffee as if it was an everyday event. Though, as Alex thought about it, it might actually be a common everyday event. Once a week, the man would come pick up the documents or money and Alex would fall into his habit of asking for a picture before ending up insulting the man. The first time made the man raise an eyebrow, second barely a twitch and third the man didn't even bother.
What an anti-social psychopath.
"But I can tell you that he's alive," The man said as he finally set down his white tea-cup with its content half-empty. Wow, half-empty. He was thinking more and more like a pessimist, "And he's fairly well. Now, let's talk about your little errands."
Alex snorted.
"We are very disappointed that you recruited two acquaintances to join your adventure. But no matter, as long as you're enjoying it. But if they let slip one word…" The ever-so-cliché threat hung dangerously in the air.
"Don't you dare," Alex growled.
The man chose not to answer the rhetorical statement, "And Officer Mayford's a pretty nice inside cover. That Wolf commander is less intelligent than we'd thought."
None of his business if someone other than him was insulted but Alex felt the need to say something for the kind-hearted commander, "He's just slow on the uptake."
Scratch that. Alex felt that he'd be better in the sarcasm and insult department.
"Whatever you say," The man had no objection nor agreement toward his insulting statement for the commander. He stood to leave, "As usual, I hope the one grand is enough for your living fee until the next time we meet. Your errands will still be sent as usual and I'm very excited to read the next headline you make. They can be a little more creative, don't you think?"
"Quite so, I'm looking forward to your assignments," Alex said as he took a sip of his hot cholate. It burned his tongue in a similar way to his lie.
"Hello, North Highland Police Department. How may I help you?" The cheerful male voice of the front desk answered the call on the first ring.
"This is Officer Mayford, Harry Mayford," Alex said as he sat back against the cool stone railing and feeling the wind breezing through his hair, "I'm calling in absent today."
"Let's see," The man clicked away on his keyboard for a few moment, "You have no active assignments at the moment so you're all checked out. I'll report that to the commander if anything arises."
"Thank you," Alex said with a smile that he knew the man couldn't see but couldn't care less. Human emotions were very important to a human, screw what others thought of him.
"No problem," The man replied cheerfully, "If that's all?"
"Yes, thank you again," Alex said as he lowered the phone and pressed the end of call button.
"Tom," Alex called, "I've called in, are you happy?"
"Absent after that mishap?" Tom was not happy by the sound of it, "You might bloody well be fired tomorrow. Just because you want to go on a fake vacation to visit your fake friends doesn't mean you can neglect your real job."
"You're still salty," Alex stated.
Tom and James gave him simultaneous stink eyes, "That's for getting Mayford nearly fired."
Alex shot them incredulous looks of mock disgust, "Oh right, suddenly you have an imaginary best friend Mayford to debunk me."
"Don't you say bad things about Mayford," James pointed out.
Alex was unamused, "You do realize Mayford is really just me."
James hmphed disgruntled as Tom shot Alex fake disappointment daggers through his eyes, "Fine. What's our next job?"
Alex pulled up the computer he was looking at before the call, "Another bank."
"Jeez," Tom shook his head as he sat against the metal railing by the edge of the roof, "They should at least make some variety. It's always been banks. Like, I mean I'd really want to go to some amusement parks."
"We did rob an animal shelter," Alex pointed out helpfully as he scrolled through the mail.
"Which bank is it?"
"Some bank I think down the corner," Alex said as he swirled it across his lap to face Tom and James, "Royal and General Bank. Have you heard of it?"
"Nah, but I heard it's posh," Tom leaned in for a closer look, "Like fancy chandeliers and golden walls."
"Extra security," Alex grimaced, running a hand absently through his hair. It was getting a little long, he should cut it.
"Don't worry mate," James clapped him on the shoulder, a habit he must have picked up from Tom, "I've got your back. I'm the escape-planner, remember? I can find you an entrance and an exit in no time. How much are we getting?"
Alex frowned as James leaned in to read, "Hold on. This isn't a robbery. They said to leave a message, but not take anything."
"What's the message?"
"Abort or he dies," Alex shrugged, "With a scorpion stamp on it. Some serious creepy psychopath message probably."
"You know that's probably really illegal, right?" Tom asked carefully, "I mean, it's a life we're talking about here."
"The bank's the one making the decision," Alex said, "We don't have anything to do with this. In fact, we might actually be saving this person's life, whoever he is. We let them know that they have a life in danger but other than that, we're no part of it."
"Besides, robbing a bank of two hundred grand is sure more illegal than this," James said a tad bit unhelpfully in Alex's opinion. It reminded him of the bleakness of the situation they were in. They couldn't just go and rob any bank and take any amount. Each time the quantity, objective and location were fixed. Until they could meet the ransom amount, they had to keep doing the petty jobs. Alex swore that one day, just out of sadistic natures, they would make him rob a convenient store for two dollars for the fun of it.
"We have two weeks to get this done," Tom said, pointing at the screen, "That's a week longer than usual."
"More dangerous," James grimaced but brightened, "But this's like one of the spy movies, isn't it?"
"Well, I opt out of being James Bond," Alex raised his hand, "I want to be the tree in the background."
"I'll be your bush," Tom offered.
"I'll be the water," James nodded.
There was a pause of silence as they found conflicts in their logic, "Who's going to be James Bond then?"
Alex snorted, "Why don't we ask Mayford?"
"Great idea!"
Alex was bored. Wrong. Mayford was bored. Sitting in the chair, Alex swirled the chair around slowly before turning to face his computer again. He'd browsed the police record sixteen times, received five calls and two prank calls, ordered a pizza with his cellphone of course, and finished the stack of reports.
"Mayford, what are you doing?" Oh, it was the Big Bad Wolf again.
"Hey commander," Alex greeted the man, "I'm done with my work. Can I leave early?"
"What about the community concerns I gave you two hours ago?" Wolf came over, skepticism on his face as he took a sip of his coffee, "You were supposed to write a report on that."
"I did," Alex went through his drawer and pulled out the stack. Seven pages. He was so proud of himself, "Honestly, their complaints are pretty much the same. Some sneaky gang around the corner. Should get someone down there at night to check that out. And some poor neighbor's wolf dog's missing. I'm great with dogs, but I'm a desk officer so I don't do that. But I'm always avai-"
"Hand me that," Wolf interrupted him, grabbing the paper rudely as he sat down his coffee on his table and began leafing through the paper, "What 'bout crime reports?"
"One came in this morning and one over the phone," Alex said, pulling out another stack of paper, "Some man's wallet was stolen and oh, there's a robbery thing downtown if I recall correctly."
Wolf, giving him a glance, took the paper from him and browsed through them. His eyebrows were rising higher and higher with each paragraph and Alex took inner satisfaction from it. Uncle Ian, or Ian as the man had strictly told him to call him by, was ever so hell-bindingly stern for him to get his reports neat correct and fast in case he ever wanted to pursue a desk job. Though Alex was so sure he was going to become the world's greatest archer.
"Detention cells?" Wolf set the papers down as he took a sip.
"All calm and peaceful," Alex said then added thoughtfully, "Though there was this one man when I poked my head in blabbering that he wanted to confess about thirty minutes ago. Not my department but no one was available at the moment. He said some gibberish about strange man down at dock and-"
Wolf's attention was instantly on him, "Strange man at dock? Was it Cell 80A?"
"Might've been," Alex shrugged, "Can I go now?"
"No, you're coming with me," Wolf said as he turned, heading toward the cells. Alex got off his chair and rushed to catch up with the man striding downstairs, "This is the first time the man wanted to confess. It's been three days and we've almost given up. We can't just let him go because of his crime but we can't through him in jail for a crime he did not commit."
"My magical power," Alex nodded with narcissistic appreciation, "Makes people want to speak the truth."
Wolf gave him a withering look, "Look, you're new, I get it. But speak with respect to your superiors, Mayford."
"Yessir," With Tom and James in mind, Alex pulled his narcissism down a notch. Mayford was James Bond after all, James Bond, and his covers, must not be destroyed so early in the season or how else were they supposed to make money from franchises.
They descended the stairs to the cell and made a right turn. There were only a few holding cells and Alex found himself back to Cell 80A. It was a detention cell like all others. Gray metal door and a two-way mirror.
"I'll stay out then," Alex pointed at the mirror, "And watch."
"All right," Wolf nodded before he pulled open the door.
The sound was slightly muffled but Alex could hear the scrapping of the chair on the floor as Wolf pulled the chair out to sit. The man opposite, probably in his mid-thirties, had his hands nervously going up and down over each other, dragging the chains with a scratching noise across the metal table.
"So you want to confess," Wolf began.
"I did already," The man said, "I committed the crime, there's nothing more to it. Just throw me in jail already."
"But one of my officers said something different," Wolf glanced at the mirror pointedly. The man did too, "Something about a strange man at dock."
"Can I, can I talk to him? The officer I mean," The man said nervously, his hands moving faster and more shakily, "Please?"
"If you confess, I will. If you don't," Wolf smiled without humor, "No chance at all, my friend."
"I will but only to your officer," The man said, his voice trembling with fear despite his determined stance.
Wolf paused for a moment before nodding to Alex's general direction behind the mirror as an invitation to come in. Alex pulled the door open, strode in, and shut it quietly behind him, "I'm Officer Mayford."
"Got a notepad, Mayford?" Wolf said, his eyes never leaving the man's face.
"Yessir," Alex said, pulling out one from his front pocket. Ian had told him to never go anywhere without one. It was important to record things as he went along.
"Now start confessing," Wolf crossed his arms and sat back in the chair, "And Mayford I want a recording of this too."
"Yessir," Alex sighed as he tapped the end of his pen. The multipurpose pen, courtesy of Tom's thieving skills, came in handy every now and then, "Please start with your name and age."
"Benjamin Crawford, thirty-four," Ha, he was spot on about the age, Alex thought with a smile as he recorded the information down on the paper, "I was walking toward the dock yesterday night, I like docks and seas at dusk it's always peaceful and the ocean smells nice an-"
"Please continue and cut the crap," Wolf wasn't in the mood apparently.
"Right right," The man mopped his forehead with the back of his hand that Alex noticed was beginning to sweat profoundly, "And then this man, this cloaked man, appeared."
"What was he wearing?" Wolf questioned.
"Black, all black. He was wearing a mask and a cowl too," The man said then nodded to himself as if in confirmation, "And then, he was chasing this other guy."
"Describe him."
"I don't know, brown hair? I don't really remember but I know he's dead now," Benjamin said, nodding again nervously, "And, and then, the strange man just pulled out a gun and shot the man he was chasing. He just shot him, right in the open. There was no one else around, but it was so loud. And then, the man just fell to the ground. I think he was hit on the back of the head, but I'm not sure. I think he's dead because the strange man just goes and checked on him. With a finger to his neck and, and then, he just stood up and turned toward me. I was so scared. I remember thinking that the man was a serial killer and I was going to die."
"You said he touched his finger to the dead man's neck," Wolf leaned forward.
"Yes," The man bobbed his head nervously, his eyes skirting toward Alex for a few times and it didn't go unnoticed by Wolf who turned to look at Alex as if he was an accomplice.
Alex raised an eyebrow and shrugged with confusion, "I've no idea why he's looking at me like that."
"Why're you looking at Officer Mayford?" Wolf questioned.
"The strange man," Benjamin said, "Said he wanted me to give a message to him."
Another questioning look from Wolf made Alex shrugged again, "I don't know what he's talking about."
"What's the message?" Wolf asked.
"He," The man jerked his head toward Alex, "is in danger."
"That's it?" Wolf sounded unconvinced and skeptical.
"And another word," The man added, "Bunkhouse."
"Does the word Bunkhouse mean anything to you, Mayford?" Wolf asked carefully, turning to face Alex.
Alex frowned then shook his head, "No."
"We're going to have a conversation after this," Wolf said to Alex, narrowing his eyes before turning back to Benjamin, "Please, continue where you left off."
"The man shows me a photograph," Benjamin nodded, "It was his. And then after he told me the message, someone hit me over the back of my head."
The man sounded visibly less stressed but Alex could still hear the tenseness in his voice.
"And then when I woke up, the gun was in my hand and I was next to the dead man."
"I think we're finished here," Wolf stood up, "I'll have another officer sort you out, Mr. Crawford."
"Thank you, thank you," The man was of pure relieve, "God bless."
Wolf grabbed Alex by the back of his collar and pulled him out of the door, shutting it tightly behind him, and marched him to an adjacent waiting room, "Now, start speaking."
"About what?" Alex crossed his arms.
"Do you know the man?" Wolf asked.
"No."
"Do you have any idea who the 'strange man' might be?" Wolf pressed, his eyes zeroing on him like a hawk on a rabbit. Though Alex preferred to think of himself as a wolfdog, like the one missing.
"No," Alex said, shrugging slightly, "If you're thinking that I'm an accomplice, you are wrong."
Wolf fell silent for a moment before he continued, "Do you really have no idea what the word Bunkhouse means?"
Alex really thought it over. Bunkhouse. Sure, he'd heard of the word bunk and the word house, but rarely if ever together. It was as if it was a name instead of merely a word with definition, "No, I really don't."
Wolf grunted then sighed, "This man might be after you, warning you that you'll be his next target."
"Or he could be warning about potential dangers, not from him," Alex muttered, "Look, sir, I really have no idea what any of these are."
Wolf looked unconvinced for a moment, "And if I believe you, what'll you do?"
Alex pursed his lips, "I don't know, do my normal job like a normal person?"
"You're just barely fresh out of university," Wolf said, glancing at him with questions burning but not clear enough to be phrase into an askable question, "I don't believe that you'd be able to get tangled into something horribly disastrous like this."
Oh boy, how wrong the man was.
"We might have some leads on the dead man and the real culprit," Wolf said, jerking his head toward the exit, "Until then, keep your head low and stay out of trouble."
"That man," Alex said as Wolf began walking out the door, "Benjamin Crawford, might not be telling the truth."
"We have security tapes," Wolf glanced at him for a second before going up the stairs, "It's exactly as he said."
"Then why did he not confess any earlier?" Alex questioned, "He could've been free earlier if he'd confessed."
"That's a great million-dollar question," Wolf replied, "We suspect someone's pressuring him, forcing him to not speak. That was our guess until you show up."
"So you're saying someone's forcing him to not confess until I show up?"
"My guess," Wolf nodded as they headed toward Alex's desk, "And until we can figure out the relationship between you and the culprit, I hope you can keep your head cool and at any suspicious activities, reports in."
"Yessir."
"Good," Wolf said, patting him on the shoulder, "I want that report done in two hours, Mayford. Good day."
So much for the protégé feeling, Alex grunted as he sat down.
"I know, Tom," Alex sighed exasperatedly, "We don't have a lot of time, I know that. But I thought you said you don't want Mayford to be fired?"
"Mayford!" Wolf called from the car, "Hurry the hell up!"
"Coming!" Alex replied from the steps outside the police station before going back to his phone.
"Yeah, but the job is our priority, mate," Tom insisted, "We've almost everything figured out."
"Just this one Mayford run," Alex said, "I actually like where we're going. I mean, I have to act like a police, right? I can't just go absent all the time."
"Then get yourself on patrol assignment," James butted in, "Then you can drive anywhere you want without being suspected."
"What the fuck are you doing, Mayford?" Wolf was impatient as the commander rolled down his window.
"Gotta go," Alex hurriedly said before turning to Wolf, "Nothing, just an enthusiastic friend that's all."
Wolf hmphed as Alex pulled open the car door and got into the shotgun, "You're on duty if you need a reminder."
"Yessir," Alex replied dutifully just as his phone beeped in a signal of a message.
It was from Tom. Hey Al, you free?
No. Alex replied as Wolf gave a disapproving glance, "Mayford if that's personal business again, you'll never see that phone again."
"You cannot do that, sir," Alex said.
Fine bt wve got smthng rlly imptant. Get back ASAP when ur done.
Alex frowned. It sounded serious. K
"Mayford?"
"Putting it away right now, sir," Alex said as he stowed the phone into his jacket pocket.
"Now," Wolf began as he turned the corner, "As your first real assignment, much more than the tagalong you're doing with Unit Six, pay every attention to what I'm doing."
"It's just interviewing the owner of a wolfdog, sir," Alex said, glancing at the man in confusion.
"This is my community, our community," Wolf insisted, "Everything must be kept in order and with a wolfdog on loose, it's not. Besides, it's also a concern of a citizen and therefore we must take care of it."
"What about that gang?" Alex questioned, "Wouldn't you be more suitable for a gang raid?"
"You're right," Wolf smiled without humor, "But it's not suitable for young graduates like you."
"But I was this close," Alex pressed his fingers together, "To catching that parkour boy."
"And you were also that close in losing your job," Wolf shot back, "How's the bruise?"
"Hardly hurting," Alex replied.
"You discharged your weapon without permission," Wolf continued, "You're lucky that your firearms aren't confiscated."
Alex fingered the handle of his pistol strapped to his waistband. It was police issued and Tom had nearly freaked out when Alex had casually thrown it before him onto the blankets, screeching and screaming his head off about the end of the world. It was lucky that they were at Tom's house and his parents were out. Their neighbors had long ago given up on restraining their mental states.
"Right," Alex sighed, "Wolfdog it is."
He liked the hybrids. His father used to have one. The hybrid kind of reminded him of himself. Cool and majestic. Tom and James had said unison to stop being so narcissistic when he told them that.
A.N.: Okay, yeah, major apologies for starting another story without completing the other two but I just really needed to get this out! This will be a multi-chapter story and every name you recognize here are from the book. For example, Scorpia is Scorpia from the book but a little different and Alex's father is John Rider. This is an AU in which Alex has never met Scorpia, MI6 or has any contact at all with the espionage world. Wolf is not a soldier, Ian is not dead, John's not dead, and Alex never knew Jack or Sabina. I'm really just using the character names and their traits but everything else's somewhat different.
Or, if you want, this is basically a story in which MI6 did not recruit Alex in the beginning.
Hopefully, everything will be explained as the story progresses!