"I think you should start up your classes again, Cub."
"I think not." They were in the office again, and it had been two days since K Unit's failed confrontation. The new day had barely begun.
"When you came, you told me it was for protection, as well as doing a refresher course. That requires you to attend them."
"No, it doesn't."
Sanders grunted in frustration. "Why don't you want to go to class? What's the harm?"
"You're right," snorted Alex. "Where is the harm?"
"My men happen to be very harmful, thank you very much. But back to what I was saying," he said sternly. He wasn't going to be deterred. "You need to go to your classes."
Alex scrunched up his nose in distaste. "No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"Everything I need to know is right up here." He tapped his right temple with his pen.
"Put it to good use then, and exercise that knowledge." Sanders proposed. "K Unit should be just about to rise; if you go now, you can catch them at the mess hall for breakfast." he smiled. "The more time you spend with me, the fatter you'll get."
"I'm in basic physical perfection." Alex rolled his eyes. "Next thing I know, you're going to start telling me I'll turn into a potato at this rate."
"Exactly." nodded the Sergeant.
"If I go," Alex said suspiciously. "What's in it for me?"
"I..." He bit his tongue; he wanted to say that Alex had to get all the education he could so he could better persevere on his missions, but he knew how the spy would reply to that. "... I'll give you leave to show up the SAS soldiers. Don't make anyone else come in here though; I might get more than angry."
"Leave," he said slowly. "As in permission? What makes you think I need permission for anything I decide to do?"
Sanders shook his head. "I know you do whatever you want. But if you ever decide to punch the arrogance in my men back in line..." he dragged it on suggestively.
Lips curling up, the young man stood and stretched. "...Then I've already got your permission." Alex finished off the sentenced and groaned as some bones cracked. He then yawned. "Alright then, sir, I'll go to my lessons. And your challenge is accepted."
A knee-jerk reaction seemed to occur with the Sergeant as his eyes flew to Alex. "What challenge?" he demanded. "I didn't challenge you!" No good would come with challenging Alex Rider – he knew that.
"Ah, but you did, sir, when you told me to show up your men. That's the one thing I don't want to do."
"But how did you interpret that as a cha –"
"Hush, sir. What I meant was that –"
"Did you just hush me?" he squawked indignantly.
"Would you just let me finish?" Alex pressed forcefully. When the Sergeant didn't say anything, he continued on with a prim tone. "What I meant was that I will show them up. Just... well, more modestly, I guess."
"What are you blabbering on about?"
"Twenty quid says they won't actually realise I'm even flaunting what I can do in their faces. Come by to watch me today. Or tomorrow, if I go to classes."
Sanders frowned. "How the hell would that work?"
"There's a little thing called subtlety, you know."
"Oh, shut up."
"So... it's a bet?"
The Sergeant looked at Alex's outstretched hand, and grabbed it seriously.
"You're on, kid." They both grinned at each other and shook over the desk.
It was a done deal; there was no going back now.
As K Unit sat down to eat, the call of "'Sup, gentlemen." had them half-rising again in surprise. There stood Cub, with an empty tray in his hands.
"No, no, don't get up on my behalf." Cub said brightly. "Eat your food. I'm going to grab mine."
Eyes followed him when he walked toward the kitchen door.
"Is Cub joking with us?" asked Cheetah. "He comes here, mentions nothing of what happened two days ago and now he just walks into the kitchen like its normal. I tried it once. I almost got my hand chopped off for touching the cheese."
"But," Eagle said thoughtfully. "Didn't he come out of the kitchen that other day, too?"
"Yeah, he seemed to be pretty good friends with the cooks." interjected Snake.
Not two seconds later, the young SAS member tumbled out the door with a cheeky smile. His dark golden hair was in disarray, like someone had chosen to place their hand on his head and artfully ruffle it. There was a spark in his eyes that they'd never seen before.
"He looks happy," murmured Snake.
But what everyone else seemed to immediately notice, was his full hands.
Food that had the look of heaven to the SAS soldiers was heaped upon his tray. Almost everyone in K Unit, in scary unison, looked down at their plate of dreary food and then looked back up in outrage. It made Cub's grin go wider.
"Hey! How come you've got something different from us?" Eagle accused as Cub sat down beside Cheetah.
He shrugged and picked up a piece of lightly buttered toast. "They actually like me."
"I'm likable," grumbled Snake as he poked at his food and glared dishearteningly at Cub's plate. "How come they don't give me edible food?"
"Maybe it's because I actually make an effort to talk to them instead of making demands for food like they're robots."
"He's got a point." agreed Eagle, and then; "I backed you up, Cub. Can I please have a piece of that fruit?"
"I happen to like apples."
"Can I have a grape?"
He reached for one, and Cub slapped his hand away. "I'll lick each and every one of them if you don't keep your hands to yourself."
Eagle sulked but then he brightened and pointed. "What about those strawberries? They look awfully sour, don't they? Surely you don't want them."
His face was full of hope, and inside, Alex was cackling as he crushed them. "Sorry, but the strawberries aren't for for the taking. They're for me. To eat." Eagle deflated and just took another grimacing bite of his food.
"So, um, Cub, what have you been doing these past couple days?" Snake hesitantly inquired.
Cub shrugged and finished off his toast. "Oh, you know; this and that."
"Um, okay. Uh... you enjoying your stay here?" The medic winced at the dumb question.
"Totally; never been more enjoyable in my life."
The sarcasm made Snake want to hit his head on the table.
"Hey, Cub, what have you been doing with the Sergeant lately?" Eagle leered at him, waiting for a reply.
Cheetah suppressed a snicker as he watched one teammate trying to draw Cub out of his shell, another trying to obviously fish for information, and the last one eating in silence because he was irritated with his unit, and also because he hated mornings.
The sight was quite comical.
"I don't swing any way but straight, so don't get any ideas."
Eagle coughed – and then coughed some more. Snake's previously contained smile broke out and Wolf just grunted in amusement.
"No doubt I want to bleach my eyes out right now." Eagle gasped out, tears shining in his eyes as he continued to cough.
Silence ensued once more, and Cheetah felt the need to speak. But he needed to make sure the conversation wouldn't come to a rolling stop, like the way Snake and Eagle had been satisfied without actually being satisfied.
His eyes narrowed imperceptibly; Cub was a tricky one to work with, so he allowed a moment or two to pass by as they ate.
"You finished high school, right?" he asked airily.
Alex didn't know what had overcome his unit, but he could guess, and no way was he going to let them steer the conversation. He twisted his lips in thought. "Well, I didn't have much time for school," he saw Cheetah's face and rushed out a "But!"
"But...?" Cheetah growled.
"I was given the best education available and I took private exams for my levels." He popped a grape into his mouth, but could still feel Cheetah's stare burning holes into his head and he rubbed his nape. "I, uh, I came out as one of the top twenty in the country. Not that anyone knew, seeing as my name wasn't allowed to be printed. But I was fine with the fact that no one knew because I knew, you know?"
Soaking in the words that had been uttered, the four men of K Unit peered at Alex with something akin to disbelief and being stunned.
He was sitting next to someone who had academically surpassed hundreds upon thousands in England, save for twenty others, Cheetah realised. But instead of being a snotty brat who acted like he was smarter and more important than everyone else, Cub was a quiet, sub-consciously felt presence who wasn't one for attention seeking. He treated those of K Unit like they were on equal grounds and answered their questions without too much complaint. He didn't try to talk intellectually – he talked calmly, patiently, but with a quality that said he was the same as everyone else.
Who knew what lay underneath.
Who was he really?
Cheetah resolved in that instant to gain Cub's trust – how else would he ever open up to them?
"Best education? Snake said softly.
Something shivered inside Cheetah and he felt like he had when they'd been targeted by a sniper back in Malaysia. Something was targeting him.
He looked around, but saw nothing out of the usual. Until he meet some guarded eyes.
Cub stared at him with an almost predatory look. Half-lidded and cool.
Cheetah couldn't help but think of his imminent demise. He looked away, almost uncomfortably so, and castigated himself for reading too much into a look.
But it hadn't been just a look, had it? It had seemed as if Cub knew exactly what his thoughts had been.
He felt Cub shift his attention away to Snake, and internally sighed in relief. Something about that kid unnerved the soldier in him.
"MI6 wouldn't settle for less. I wouldn't settle for less. Especially not since they're the ones who took it all away in the first place."
There was that acronym again. Why did he keep referring to them? "MI6?" asked a puzzled Cheetah. He'd shaken off the unsettling feelings; it was all nothing to worry about, right? "If you don't mind me asking, but... this had to be going on for some years, where were your parents in all of this before they, uh, passed away?" Cub stood, and he noticed that his tray was clean – when had he eaten all his food? Cheetah glanced down at his own half-eaten plate. His appetite had been lost during the conversation.
"I never knew them. They died when I was only a couple weeks old. Now, if you guys are done, we need to get going."
They silently agreed to talk no more of his parents at the moment and ditched their trays where it was supposed to be ditched before making their way to the doors.
"Hey, Wolf!" A voice shouted out.
Wolf turned around, annoyed beyond belief for no apparent reason. The voice belonged to Bear of F Unit. Wolf didn't really like him; maybe that was the reason.
"Who's the new tag-a-long?" They sat on the table closest to the door, so it had been inevitable to walk by them.
And there was nothing wrong with that particular question. It was the way it was spoken. Sneered and with a distinct look of animosity.
K Unit's leader bristled. No one pulled shit on his unit but him.
"I'm not freaking new!" Alex cried quietly as he looked pleadingly into Cheetah's eyes.
Eagle, who had been standing beside him, petted his shoulder in consolidation. "Don't worry, Cub, we know you're not new."
Acting as though none of that was going on behind him, Wolf just glared at Bear. "None of your fucking business."
Now, a person who didn't know Wolf would probably have taken offense, but since everybody knew of Wolf's legendary temper, they made nothing of it.
As if in mental accordance, they all filed out the door, but Alex made sure to be the last one.
He stopped, just as Cheetah disappeared, and he was left alone with the others in the mess hall. Those around F Unit and close enough to see the slight tension between Wolf and Bear were now showing interest in the mysterious addition to K Unit.
The rest of the mess hall carried on its ignorant chatter.
Alex dropped everything. The smile, the light in his eyes, the open and friendly, innocent attitude.
Bear felt the air around him plummet a few degrees and the hairs on his body stand on end.
"If you have any questions, then you ask me. No fucking way will you give crap to K Unit about having some brat trailing behind them. They're my unit, so don't even try to put one over them, or I'll put a bullet through your fucking head."
The man sitting across from Bear, who had been listening to the one-sided exchange raised a hand. "Geez, relax, will you? Bear was just wondering who you were, 'cause you look a bit young. It's not something you see everyday in an SAS base. No need to get vicious."
"Maybe I am young, or maybe I just look young; what's it to you, anyway?"
Bear watched the kid with interest and condescension, taking no real action against the guy. But, then something happened.
Just as the kid was out the door, he turned back to stare at Bear with a frosting look. "The name's Cub," he heard. Well, this guy, Cub, was quiet enough that Bear had to strain to hear him, so he leaned forward.
Falcon followed the kid's lips, and some words were spoken to his sharpshooter that he couldn't quite hear over the din of noise.
Then, with a brief, indifferent glance at Falcon, K Unit's strange fifth guy left. He seemed to take the chilly atmosphere with it.
"So, Bear," he said with a grin that he quickly lost as he saw his friends bemused face. "Bear?"
But his teammate didn't hear him – he was deep in thought.
Now, Falcon prided himself on the fact that he could read lips relatively well; but he hadn't been able to catch all of it.
He'd read something along the lines of;
The name's (Cub?), I'm K Unit's (unofficial?) fifth member and I wasn't (bluffing?).
Falcon was sure he'd gotten it wrong, and he was sure as hell going to find out what the kid's real words to Bear were.
Cheetah stared.
And stared.
And stared.
His eyes hadn't closed since Cub had began doing the obstacle course, of which he was now two minutes and nine seconds into it.
Cheetah's eyes were starting to burn.
My God, they were starting to burn. He finally – blessedly – blinked, and blinked a few more times to disperse the slight sting accompanied with leaving your eyes open for too long.
"Did you see what he just did!" Eagle blustered.
"Devil take it." said Cheetah. "I blink for the first time since he's started moving, and I miss something." he turned to Snake, who was avidly watching their young Cub. "What'd I miss?"
"Everything." he snapped without much bite; he was too engrossed with observing the abnormally agile Cub. "Just watch."
Cheetah obliged him.
With a cat-like efficiency, Cub climbed and leaped and sprinted and dived and fell and all these other magnificently insignificant things – things that you couldn't help but compare to those of a feline.
"Perhaps he lived in the wild when he was younger?" suggested Cheetah.
"Maybe," murmured Snake.
Panting lightly, and, although K Unit had no idea how he did it, looking like he'd avoided wearing too much mud, Cub came dashing over. He smiled and waited patiently for Sergeant Ashby to give him his time.
"Thirteen minutes and seven seconds, brat." he spat out. Ah, so it was back to being the offensive, rude officer? Alex was fine with that; besides, their instructors all had hard reputations to uphold. "Only two seconds less than last time, if I remember correctly."
Alex nodded to indicate that he had remembered correctly.
"Pathetic," he said dismissively. "Do better next time. Now, Eagle, it's your turn." They all watched him plod off with a dejected form about him. "...Stop dragging your feet and act like a real soldier, damn it!"
"But, sir!" came the distant, adamant reply. Alex saw his foot come up to stomp on the ground.
"Don't you 'But, sir!' me, Eagle, or so help me, I will kick your butt to next week and then some!"
Now that Cheetah had seen how one could gracefully go about the obstacle course, Eagle just looked like a lumbering elephant. Of course, he finished it quite neatly and extremely well done; but it just didn't... it just wasn't the way Cub had done it. At least no more comparisons could be made, seeing as how Eagle was the last one to do the obstacle course. The kid seemed to be good at everything.
"Get to your fucking lessons, men."
"Yes, sir."'s said four soldiers and a spy.
"What class have you got now, Chee?"
Stopping mid-step, he mouthed the word 'Jesus' to himself, before he turned around to find Cub harmlessly standing not a foot away from him. How the hell did he do that?
"Uh, Linguistics. What about you?"
Cub made a face. "Some geography related topic."
"I'm guessing it's not one of your strong points?" Finally, something I know he isn't good at, so far.
"Eh..." he shrugged. "I understand maps and land and all that pretty well. More than basic, yet less than advance knowledge, if you get me."
Cheetah let out a subtle sigh. "Yeah, I get you." So he was still moderately good.
"See you later," he said.
"See you." replied Cheetah. When he realised that Cub still hadn't left, he looked over to see what was wrong.
Cub was staring at him cautiously before drawing out the word, "... Alligator." Then he sprinted off, leaving a very confused Cheetah in his midst.
He frowned, but just walked to class, thinking very intensely, when at last, realisation struck him at the door of his classroom; "See you later... alligator." he whispered to no one in particular.
His small chuckles soon turned into raucous laughter and his fellow soldiers found him laughing still as they settled down to learn.
Alex sat in the back, twiddling his thumbs as the... students flowed in. It felt extremely weird referring to the SAS soldiers as students, but it was what they were, technically speaking.
"Hey, Munro."
"How're you going, Mr Munro?"
"What up, Captain M."
Captain Munro was presumably the one who was going to teach them.
"Alright, men, we –" The instructor's eyes landed on Alex, and curiosity flickered. "It seems we have a new person joining us today." Heads turned to the back of the room.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Alex reminded himself that Munro was only trying to appease his curiosity; he wasn't singling Alex out to be mean.
"Your name?" he asked.
Alex cleared his throat. "Cub, sir."
A few inevitable snickers ran around the room, and Munro suppressed a grin. "That's a bit of an odd codename." he said. "And we'll get to the bottom of that later, because what I really want to know is – why are you here?"
Frowning, Alex opened his mouth, but Watson put up a hand. "Now, I'm not trying to be rude, all I'm saying is, like high school, we have levels of learning. This is the more senior level within the SAS; for those who have been with us for more than a couple of years and have progressed through the lessons. You seem to be looking too young to be in this class. Do you understand why I'm asking?"
Alex arched an eyebrow. "Yes, sir."
The man ran his tongue over his upper teeth. "Well, Cub?"
He didn't say anything.
"You going to tell us why you're here?"
Alex debated; and then thought, Ah, to hell with it.
"When I first came here to Brecon Beacons," he began. Many faces turned interested. "The Sergeant took an immediate dislike to me because I looked so young. I think he kinda felt that I was invading his camp. Like I was rubbing dirt into the British SAS name by being here. And maybe it was 'cause of my age, but he decided to give me the codename Cub." Murno nodded for Alex to keep explaining. "Anyway, I left, but then something came up a couple weeks ago, and here I am now." He shrugged.
Captain Munro looked stern. "But why are you in this class, though?"
"I..." He hesitated before acquiescing. "I left this training base a while ago... And I doubt any of you can remember me." Puberty and all that.
"Remember you...?" the guy next to him said.
"Wait, wait," said Alex. "How long have you guys been with SAS?"
"All of us?"
Alex nodded.
"Uh, approximately... four years?" the guy looked around, and his fellow men nodded with him.
"Oh," Alex frowned and settled his eyes on Munro. "None of you would've met me then."
"Met you when?"
He chewed on his cheek before replying, "I came to Brecon Beacons five years ago." Alex could almost hear the crickets chirping in the silence.
Munro broke it first. "Huh," he nonchalantly muttered. "Interesting. But," he scowled half-heartedly. "You left Brecon Beacons five years ago. So no more training, no more learning and no more missions since then, right? I'm going to repeat myself – why are you here in this class?"
God, this guy was persistent.
Alex shrugged again. "Contrary to your beliefs, I have been training, I have been learning and I –" he cut himself short. "I'm in this class, because I'm assumed to be the equivalent of a soldier who has been with the SAS for five years. There's also the fact that I've been, er, reunited with my old unit."
"Old unit?"
He looked at the door forlornly; longing to escape the now stuffy room. "K Unit, sir."
Surprise had Munro whistling low in appreciation. "K Unit?" he said. "You must be good."
"... I haven't trained with them in a while; so I wouldn't know." Of bloody course he was good. He didn't make it this far by being a bumbling buffoon. Well; he had – his lucky streak still hadn't ended after all these years – but he now knew a lot of stuff that helped him along the way.
"Modest," conceded Munro. "I like you."
Alex didn't quite know how to respond to someone who had just blatantly said, 'I like you' in front of the soldiers. "Er, thank you... sir?"
He nodded. "I like you, so I'm not going to ask any more questions. Class has now officially started –"
The men in the room groaned and Alex felt the ridiculous urge to smile. It felt like he was back in high school; no one wanted class to start. But, the soldiers were all noticeably more disciplined than normal students. They all knew this wasn't the useless stuff high school teachers had tried to drill into them; this was stuff they had to learn to survive.
"– so all of you shut the hell up or I will kick you out." he succinctly finished with a grin. Munro was the kind of person Alex knew everybody would like upon first meeting him.
Questions were placed here and there at the start that Alex had to answer; which he did rather adequately. He was, in no way, a novice in the area, but was also not an expert in this field, though his words satisfied Captain Munro enough to leave him alone for the rest of the lesson.
Alex skipped the swimming part. After the episode with K Unit last time, he shuddered to think about what would happen this time round when they saw his body for the first time. He would request for a different swimming schedule with the Sergeant, or whoever was in charge of their schedules, later.
In the meantime, he hung out with the birds in the forest, mapping out any distinguishing marks in case he ever had to flee into the forest. It would take a couple of long hours, from a couple of long weeks to be able to orientate himself without much confusion.
But for now, he had his next class to get to.
Alex almost sighed wearily when his next destination came into sight.
The sounds of guns cocking, targets moving, feet jogging and people yelling were not at all reminiscent of his very, very short time spent with Scorpia. Alex remembered very clearly that there had been no yelling or feet jogging. Their assassins were taught to be as silent as possible.
The fluidity and speed of the more experienced assassins had quietly amazed Alex, even to this day. They had to learn to make all movement into one long, drawn-out movement when metaphorically hunting. They took one chance in one moment. If they failed – which they were rarely ever said to do, even though they failed horribly when it came to Alex – they would take another chance. But that was all. One chance per moment. In that moment, they did everything concisely, dexterously and completely handed themselves over to the mission they had accepted.
Alex didn't care about the slight difference of work professions that they held; he had wanted and still wanted to be as good a shooter as them.
He got up behind the instructor overseeing the shooting. "SAS teaches instinctive firing to its soldiers, don't they?"
Much to the man's obvious chagrin, he jumped in shock to see the young lad who was an inch or two taller than him beside him.
His dark brown eyebrows slashed down as eyes of the same shade glared at Alex – who was dipping his head in acknowledgement. "Ah, I forgot to do introductions. Cub of K Unit, sir, pleasure to meet you." He put out a hand.
A brief pause entered their one-sided conversation before the man shook it. "K Unit, d'you say? I know all the members of that particular unit, and I can't say I know you. Lieutenant Connolly." Something unreadable slithered across his face as he held onto Alex's hand. "Wait a minute. Don't tell me you're the same Cub who's been cooped up in Sanders office these past few weeks."
Word had gotten around, huh. How?
But what import would it be to Connolly? "What would happen if I said that I was?" he said cautiously.
A bark of laughter escaped Connolly's mouth. "What would happen?" he repeated dubiously. "I would bloody cuff you to me."
Alex took an immediate step backward. A far step backward.
It might have counted as a leap backward.
Looking wary and mildly horrified, he just looked Connolly up and down before vigorously shaking his head. "Cuffs are all fun and games until someone gets hurt."
"What?"
"And then there's also the fact that you would be holding me against my will. And the tiny problem of me preferring the female sex to... you know."
It fell into place with that last comment, and Lieutenant Connolly threw his head back to laugh. When he at last caught his breath, he looked to Alex in amusement. "Sorry for the misunderstanding, but," he chuckled. "You did get me on that one. Anyway, word has been going about you around lately. Oh no, not among the soldiers; but among us instructors and teachers and various other authority figures in this base camp."
"What exactly has been going around?" inquired Alex.
Connolly shrugged as he studied the men firing at targets. "Nothing much, to be truthful, but it's enough to warrant attention on you. Sanders is widely reputed to have a foul temper with the soldiers, and yet, he treats you with something almost like respect. We – me and the other men – heard about that dispute you had with Ashby and Mills."
"Ah."
"More or less, it was said they came to his office with a legitimate reason." He looked to Alex with intrigue.
"My age." he answered the unasked question.
"Sanders was, apparently, already quite familiar with you. He already knew what Ashby and Mills had came for, and you two shared a secret amusement. They voiced their opinions and questions, Sanders threatened to have them discharged if they asked any more questions about you and that... was that?"
Connolly said no more and just patiently waited.
Alex sighed and shifted his weight from leg to leg. "I'm nineteen." he finally grumbled.
"What?"
"I'm nineteen." he said a bit louder.
A particularly loud gunshot shattered around them and as it faded, the Lieutenant falteringly talked. "... I, I guess I can understand why they went to Sanders." he cleared his throat.
"They weren't threatened with being discharged. They were just warned against asking any more questions, s'all." Alex said.
"Oh."
"Sorry to disappoint you, sir."
"... We've wasted enough time as it is, and I was told to see how well you do with the weapons." He gestured for Alex to start walking with him, which he did. "When we get to the firing range, I want you to grab a gun, dismantle at your leisure, and then put it back together, which I will then check to see if everything's in place. I want you to shoot as near to the center as you can; don't worry if you hit far off the target – that's what I'm here for."
"Yes, sir." Alex wearily replied.
"There are three other instructors around the firing range for when you need help and your particular teacher isn't around. One of them regularly works at the infirmary; so you go to him if there are any accidents. We try to prevent all the casualties produced at the firing range, because we're using live ammo."
What? "Yes, sir." Live ammo? How ridiculously dangerous. But then again, Alex had yet to find a serious training base who didn't use live ammunition in the firing ranges.
Scorpia, if he remembered properly, had had a variety of special weapons and special cartridges for special occasions. But they'd rarely used them.
If their employer had wanted a messy, showy death of the victim, Scorpia wouldn't bother with guns. Something extravagant would be done; whether done seemingly naturally, or done for publicity.
If they were exacting revenge on one teenage schoolboy, a simple bullet through a sniper rifle should do the job. Not that it had done the job; they were stupid to try something as doubtful as that.
Now, if Scorpia knew they were going up against military level targets, the armor-piercing bullets would come in handy. Then again, they were primarily assassins and operatives of the highest class – ex-intelligence. The military wouldn't have known what had hit them.
Personally, Alex found guns quite distasteful. They had to be cleaned and checked regularly, there was the danger of running out of bullets at the worst possible time, if you hid them on your persons, it was bound to be found straight away and taken by the captor, and what if a civilian – or worse, someone with legal force who didn't know who Alex was – saw it and asked questions? He was nineteen. Why the hell did he have a gun for?
Alex favored Smithers ever-advancing gadgets; they were much more inconspicuous.
But... guns did have their uses. Plus, it was fun to shoot at things. The pros obviously outweighed the cons.
"Here." Connolly handed him a handgun. "Are you familiar with this gun?" he asked.
Alex shrugged. "The SIG Sauer P226. Usually uses nine millimeter, point three five six SIG or point four zero SW. Can hold up to fifteen rounds, but you guys can extend it to twenty rounds when needed."
"Good," he said. "Now, a lot of people seem to think that we also use the SIG Sauer P228, which is true, but we make all our soldiers train with as many weapons as possible. You never know when you might stumble upon a foreign weapon. That one, while it's more familiar with some soldiers, isn't as compact as the P228, which is greater for close protection and more easily concealed. We use it often for our missions." he nodded at the gun. "You know what to do."
At his leisure, Alex recalled. So, as he went about field stripping the pistol, he took his time. He didn't rush to do it as many others would have done to impress the gun instructor. He checked every inch of the gun in case it was jammed and whatnot. It was, generally, in perfect condition. When he finished putting back together, he looked back up to see that Lieutenant Connolly staring back with both his eyebrows raised.
"Sir?"
"You're nineteen." he stated.
"Yes, sir."
"You look more comfortable and more at ease with stripping that gun than most of my soldiers... Do you think about it?"
"I guess." Alex shrugged with disinterest. "I was only checking to see if everything was good. No jams or anything."
"We'll start with the closer target. Shoot five times to test it out."
He hefted the P226. "Okay." Just as he was about to raise it to the target, he paused and glanced at Connolly. "How do you want me to shoot?"
"You stance is good, everything else is in place. Can you shoot like the other men?"
"Instinctively?"
"Can you?"
Alex shrugged once again. 'I was taught briefly about it a long time ago. I've tried to get it up to the standards of my teachers since."
"We'll see how you go." the Lieutenant said. No sooner had that last word left his his mouth, the trigger had been pulled. Used to the deafening noise, Connolly turned his head to see the target.
It was a bit too far to see where the bullets had gone. "Do you want me to go get it, sir?"
Like the kid had read his mind. "No, we'll go out to see it together. You can run ahead." He did.
Alex turned around just as Connolly got there. He was standing directly in front of the target, covering it from view. "Move so I can see." He stepped aside with a wince. He'd seen the results, and quite frankly, he hadn't meant to be so scarily precise. Just as instinctive shooting suggested, he had tried it all on instinct alone.
The instructor turned around with speculation in his eyes. "Impressive, Cub." he remarked nonchalantly. "Let's go back and try it on one of the longer targets. We'll try for some different guns while we're at this."
"No problem, sir."
They went back and, at a longer distance, Alex let five bullets fly. Again, they walked up to the target.
Lieutenant Connolly looked at him coolly. "You were taught briefly?" were his only words as they went back once more. They did this with the SIG Sauer P226 three more times on the long range, with ten bullets per shoot. Alex was handed another gun.
"Do you know this one?"
"Of course. The Browning High Power, otherwise known as L9A1. Able to hold thirteen rounds, the hammer has to be pulled back before shooting. You guys don't use this one much anymore, right?"
"Right."
And so, they went on to dismantling and reassembling and shooting and checking and more shooting, until, suddenly, Connolly was called away.
"Okay," he said. "I've seen enough, Cub. You have about another twenty to twenty-five minutes before this lesson ends. You can choose another make and model of a gun if you ask Lieutenant Baldwin over there. He's in charge of guns at the firing range at the moment. And remember, when you're here, you're taught to improve your aim, your stance, on how to disassemble and reassemble your guns properly. Nothing else, nothing more. Well, just a little bit more, but not by much."
"Yes, sir."
Lieutenant Connolly let out a snort and left Alex alone.
He turned around to place the gun down, before taking out his own SIG.
"Nice gun you pulled out there."
Of course, it hadn't escaped his notice that F Unit was there at the shooting range. He'd chosen to ignore it, but, evidently, Bear hadn't.
"What do you want, Bear?" Alex asked as he began to deftly disassemble it.
"Nothing," he acclaimed innocently. "I just saw you over here with Connolly, doing some shooting."
"He was assessing me."
"Ah, I see. Didn't expect the standards of SAS to be so high? What everyone would expect of a brat who's still wet behind the ears." The thinly veiled contempt would be glaringly obvious to a spy, which Alex was. He didn't commentate on it though. Where was Bear going with this?
"Nothing I can't handle." He brushed his fingers over the sleek (now whole) gun. Finger on the trigger, and arm left dangling at his side, he turned to Bear. "I'm going to ask again; what do you want, Bear?" There was no heat. He could see the rest of F Unit noticing Bear and him; they were heading towards them now.
Alex felt tired again.
"What are you doing over here, Bear?" Falcon. His eyes watched them both carefully.
"Talking to my new acquaintance – meet Cub, guys." His mocking tone washed through Alex.
"Well, don't just –" Falcon was abruptly, yet decidedly, cut off.
Enough. He had had enough. He glanced at Bear, before flippantly turning away and shooting three times.
The unexpected gunshots surprised F Unit, seeing as they were also in the middle of talking. "I," Alex irritably started. "Know you have no malicious intentions toward me, Falcon, but your partner here seems to disagree." He looked at the person in question. "Are you going to answer me?"
He gave a derisive chuckle. "Threatening me and now putting the blame on me. Does K Unit know how rude their new little boytoy is?"
"Bear!" reprimanded one of the others; Jackal, Alex thought his name was.
Internally, he shrugged. Just another day in his life. He swung the gun around to point it at Bear's foolishly big head.
It didn't matter that not a moment ago, F Unit was protesting their teammate's behaviour, someone – a veritable stranger, an unknown factor – was holding a weapon at their sharpshooter. Hands either went to where their weapon was placed, or guns were already withdrawn and aiming.
Alex gazed over at Falcon, the only one in the group who hadn't drawn his gun. Bear was quick enough to have his gun up, too.
Others from around the firing range were starting to take in that something wasn't right over here. Someone saw the guns that were raised and yelled out in alarm. Soldiers and instructors alike suddenly converged to the stand off between F Unit and this person they'd never met before.
"Put the weapon down!" shouted the one Alex recognised as Lieutenant Baldwin.
"Shut up before I shoot you, too." he said harshly before facing F Unit again.
Vaguely further away, he heard someone calling for someone else to go grab Sergeant Sanders. Fat good that would do.
"Do you remember what I told you this morning?" he directed to Bear. Alex didn't give him a chance to return an answer. "Of course you do. Well, now I'll demonstrate on your pitiable self that I wasn't bluffing."
Clearly about to pull the trigger, Falcon raised a hand in front of his teammate. His instincts told him that the kid before him was absolutely serious. But Cub wouldn't shoot him, would he? "Cub." he said. "Think before you start shooting. You won't get out of here alive."
Alex just rolled his eyes and waved his gun along. "Out of the way, Falcon, before I decide I don't like you either."
"Cub!"
"Oh, fucking great timing!" he muttered. He didn't turn around. "What do you want, Eagle?" They'd drawn a crowd, and with his gun still trained on one of their soldiers, it was a wonder they still hadn't shot him yet.
"Cub?" Cheetah.
Wolf and Snake, assuming that they had heard the commotion and were there too, didn't say anything.
"What the hell are you doing?" Snake.
"Put the fucking gun down, Jesus, what are you thinking, Cub?" Wolf.
Ah, there they were.
"Control your soldier, Wolf, or I will shoot to kill!" Lieutenant Baldwin?
On his peripheral, Alex noticed the highly strung crowd part ways for someone. "You fucking shoot, Baldwin, and you will have an international crisis on your hands."
"W–What?"
Sergeant Sanders, a man of bona fide authority, came into view. "Let me repeat myself in simpler terms. If there is so much as a scratch on him, you can all consider yourselves as good as dishonorably discharged." Protests ran the soldiers.
Alex grimaced. "Laying it on them a bit thick, don't you think, Sanders?" He might be all for K Unit knowing exactly who he is, but these people? Strangers whom he'd never even worked with? Not for a million years.
"I don't even want to know how many people will be after my head if you leave Brecon Beacons in less than perfect condition."
"I'm not that important," his pained expression was trying to tell Sanders to shut the hell up.
Either the man was incredibly slow, or he was purposely not paying attention to Alex. "You're a walking political nightmare. Don't try to downplay yourself, Cub, it'll only make things worse." He glared at the crowd. "All of you fucking get back to your classes. Now. No one's going to die, not today, and not tomorrow. So, go."
Once again, protests were brought up as F Unit were their friends, but knowing Sanders was a capable man, and seeing that Cub was seemingly listening to the man, they begrudgingly left.
The instructors of the firing range, K Unit, F Unit and Sanders were all who stayed.
During that whole time, Alex never relaxed his aim on Bear.
"Ah, Cub," asked Cheetah. K Unit looked quite queasy. "Do you, er, mind telling us why you're holding a gun to Bear's head."
"Falcon," he addressed as he let them all relax by putting his gun away. "Your Bear is quite the irritating man." He left it at that and withdrew from the group. "Sanders, holler when you need me. I'll come to you."
"He just pointed a gun at one of our men, and you just let him walk off?!"
"Calm down, Con."
"Calm down?" he said incredulously. "Did you not witness what was happening?"
Quite angry at their stupid misconceptions of Alex, Sanders ignored Captain Con Gregson; none of them knew Alex as anyone other than 'Cub'. His sense of loyalty to the young spy prevented him from beating them all within an inch of their lives and smugly telling them of Alex Rider.
God damn it. Did no one here know how dangerous Cub truly was?
"He's greener than grass. For God's sake, Dan, he's just been recruited!"
Had he spoken out loud? He couldn't take it back now, could he? God, he was beginning to see how Cub would always clash with his soldiers. He turned around to glower at the speaker; Lieutenant Jack Langley. Everyone forever made fun of him for his last name at BB. They always joked about how he would get into America and make it with CIA. Langley and all that. "For your information, Jack, Cub has been with the SAS for the past five fucking years." Anger was boiling beneath the surface. God, he was seething; but for what? He wanted to pull at his hair and have a round with some of the soldiers – Cub's secret complicated so many things. Why were his men so stupid?
K Unit stood at his back, while F Unit and the other instructors stood opposite them. Sanders felt disconcerted; Alex let K Unit in an inch, that had to mean something, right? Even now, they were verifying his words.
How do you clean up such a public display of someone so willing to commit casual murder in front of soldiers?
"Bear," he caught their attention. "What the hell happened with Cub?"
"Nothing," the man shrugged. "I was here, with F Unit, just trying to make some small talk to welcome the new guy and –"
"How many times do I have to say it?" Sanders said tightly. "Cub is not new. He's got experience. Now tell me what you did wrong."
Bear huffed. "He threatened to shoot my head off this morning; he was about to 'demonstrate that he wasn't bluffing' just now."
Gregson, Langley and Baldwin were trying to have their input and Sanders could feel a headache coming on. The pile of paperwork on his desk had gotten bigger since this morning. "Will you all just shut up for a minute?"
His authority had its perks. "Okay," he pinched his nose. "Firstly, I don't fucking care if Cub threatened you, Bear." That kind of rained on Bear's parade, so to speak.
"Now,what I want to know, is why did Cub threaten you?" He put up a finger as that intolerable man opened his mouth. "Don't you dare try to lie to me, Bear – Cub will tell me the truth, and if it doesn't match up to yours... Well then, you don't want to know."
"You'd believe a boy like him over me?!"
Not being able to tell them who Cub was, was getting hurtful to the point of pain. "That boy is honest to a fault. If there was fault in what he did, he'll own up to it."
"And what? He won't get punished because he's so important?" he sneered.
"He's been through worse punishment than anything we can dish out here." said Sanders. "I can punish him all I want; he's not going to complain. As for you, Bear, I'm sure you'll squeal like a stuck pig when it comes to who's tougher. You know what? Don't even bother talking. I'll get it from Cub. F Unit, come to my office after dinner." He looked at the instructors. "Men, come to me in half an hour. K Unit, you come with me now."
As they went together, Eagle turned troubled eyes to him. "Sir? What did you mean when you said all that stuff about Cub?"
Sergeant Sanders sighed. He'd known this was coming since day one, he just hadn't known it would attract such attention from everyone. What was it about Alex that had all his soldiers on edge?
"Don't worry, Eagle, you'll get your answers soon."
He massaged his temple as the pounding in his head got worse. God, he needed a holiday.
Author's Note: I don't know. I don't know. Bloody hell. I don't know. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
This wasn't at all where this chapter was meant to go. But it's been two weeks, and I said I would update. But I don't know. I wrote the majority of this chapter last night. Like most of my writing, it's not perfection, but I, for one, was not keen on making you all wait even more. I struggled to end it as I slipped in and out of sleep.
I'll redo this if you guys don't like it. My writing is like footy; you throw the ball in one direction, expecting it to go its course, but it bounces into a completely different path. Maybe even back to hit you in the face.
Once again, I apologise for this stupid stupid stupid stupid chapter. WHY IS WRITING AR FF SO HARD :(
Question for the reviewers: Did you enjoy this? Or do you want me to change this into something different? Because I will.
Willingly yours,
Frustrated AR writer; at your complete and utter service.