Alex was sat on a folding chair, the derelict warehouse was cold despite it technically being a quite warm spring afternoon in Moscow. Yakob was in the stolen van outside, checking the signal integrity or something. He was prepared for a long wait and had a cup of decent italian coffee, brewed on a camping stove and improved by cheap brandy, definitely nothing like the quality stuff Antonin preferred. Alex knew there was a good chance his message icon would be ignored by Edward, but maybe it was only Alex himself that had no interest in messaging, social media or any sort of cyber identity. This was his first time on Messenger, the profile would be deleted as soon as Alex had confirmed his status as living and breathing to Edward Pleasure.
The web cam had only a narrow range of view and the room behind Alex gave nothing of his location away. He had also carefully dressed in an old worn Gap sweatshirt and ripped Levi 501's. Clothes that could be found anywhere on the globe. Now it was a waiting game. He had checked his reflection connecting differences between the boy to the man. There was very little of the fifteen year old boy in his face now. His eyes were still brown, Katya had stated they always looked sad. His hair was darker blond coming out of the dark winter in Moscow. While his face was still thin, his nose and chin were more pronounced. He had handsome masculine face.
The drama student then thought back to earlier when he had tried to keep track of Yakob's description of hacking this and piggybacking that. He had the basic idea of computers but that was all. If it had been life and death he would have memorized everything, but in reality it was just stuff he did not need to retain. He preferred books and written notes, and wished be brought a book along to entertain himself.
Alex was slightly startled when things started to happen on the desktop, but he immediately recognised the webcam image of Edward Pleasure that popped up. It was slightly impersonal way of getting in contact, but with a live image the journalist would know that this was really him and not an imposter. Alex lit up a Gauloises and smiled. "Good evening Edward. I finally read your message to get in touch."
"Alex... its so good to see you. You look ummm... well. How are you keeping? What are you up too? Working? Studying?"
"I'm at university... studying and working, when I can. Getting by. I guess I can say goodbye now. I have satisfied your curiosity." Alex stated, unsure what Edward wanted from this conversation, as Alex did not want to spill any relevant information.
"Alex! Don't go so soon. I have to apologise for being too distant in 2002. I thought if we gave you free reign you'd come to us when you began to gain a sense of home.. of trust."
"And there I was expecting Mrs Jones to arrive, force me back to MI6 and fuck everything up. Well her or that bastard Byrne. I... guess I should apologise for just leaving. I wasn't well. After I left, I spent five months in hospital. I was a complete basket case. Or did you think not talking, interacting or eating was normal." Alex flicked the cigarette but away before lighting another. He could talk about Antonin or his time in Odessa in detail but he wasn't going to. "So tell me all about your happy family?"
Edward noted Alex's admission of being mentally ill and wondered where he had been hospitalized and who had paid. No one Edward had previously ben able to trace. "Sabina's graduated from Berkley... English major. Working as an intern for the Metro in London. Liz is a den mother now, but we are in between foster kids at the moment. We are probably going to move back in England in the Autumn. I teach now. Writer's block, you know"
"Really? Not got a book written about a hapless 14 year old blackmailed to work for MI6. I read the Scorpia files you had on your laptop. Fuck it, Edward, I haven't been Alex Rider since that October. I have a new name, new identity. No passport, but I have no plans to travel further than 50 clicks from my little one room apartment."
"Where is your home now?" Edward knew he was fishing, and did not think he would get a straight answer from the boy who had disappeared off the face of the earth.
"... Well.. second star to the right, and strait on 'til morning. Thats where all lost boys go."
Edward frowned at Alex's quip and continued discussing their shared past. "Sabina has become good friends with Tom Harris and the boys from Point Blanc Academy. They had a big party this spring, when everyone was 21. Sabina had hoped you would show."
"I try not to think about my dubious past. The past is another country after all. I live in the here and now. I have no friends from that time and you all made sure a had no connections or fond memories." Alex exhaled. "Fuck it Edward, I'm bitching about things that don't matter anymore. Neither you nor I need a history lesson. You were better off without me. You were.. are a family without me. It was just you trying to do the right thing. I was too damaged then. I needed sorting out. I got a good kick up the arse. Sink or swim. Well, I kind of floated for a while but I'm doing OK here. I'd be lying if I said I did not miss you, Sabina, Liz and Tom; but I cut my losses and remade myself. I hope you can be happy with that, but thats all you're getting."
"I just wanted to know you were OK."
"Not a psycho or a killer for hire?" Alex again relaxed. "Far from it. I'm getting by. I may turn up on your doorstep at some point in the future but I doubt it. Don't hold your breath on ever seeing me again."
It was at that point Alex cut the connection. Yakob would now be deleting files, and cleaning up his hacking trail. So that was drawing a line under things. Seeing a reminder of his past had actually not resolved anything, because there was nothing to resolve. Alex was his own person here. His past was in the past. He did not want or require a happy or an unhappy reunion. Alex picked up the bottle of rotgut brandy and took a big swing. The young hacker came in and handed Alex two CD's, recording of his conversation.
Yakob was gawky and lanky with a shock of shaggy black hair and the beginnings of stubble on his chin. "Do you give english lesson's... my accent sucks. I want to talk like that... No heavy bad accent."
"Its called phonetics, you just need to mimic English or American. I idea is to be effortless. If you need lesson's I charge $15 an hour, Wednesdays during term time. I will have you speaking like an American in three months with two hours intense tutoring a week." Alex smiled and thought of Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady. Vocal lessons in his first year at Moscow had taught Alex so much. Accents from gutteral to harsh, the basics covered all languages.
"Umm, sure. I got your address. You're doing another film this summer. I saw you in 'Lost Cadet' . It was better than some American films with big budgets." The boy packed up the equipment and then asked "Is there going to be a sequel?"
"I'll have to ask Arkady, he wrote it. I think its unlikely, he has dreams of high art not cheap horror films now. I'm doing a small part in another micro budget production later this summer." Alex had an idea that his production work would make more money than acting. He had provided funding for another three films in the pipeline. "Do you want to work in America then?"
"Yeah, in Silicon Valley, California." The kid looked dreamy thinking of a bright future thousands of miles away.
"Good luck with that." Alex said as he carried the boxes to the van.
Yakob was silent as Sasha drove him home and as they both helped unpack his stuff. The actor then sped off into the night. Alex decided to clean up the van and drop it off. He would then go and get very drunk, maybe with Constantin. The man would drink beer and vodka and spend hours complaining about all the students and how everything was better in the good old days. That old soldier was his key to a russian soul after all. Life may have been awful and continue to be awful but there was always space to reminisce with friends.
Alex woke to his alarm on Monday morning. He stank. How the hell had he made it home after Constantin had started on the 'good stuff' after they finished the beer and brandy. Homemade vodka was always a bad idea. After two shots Alex had excused himself. Constantin had then looked Alex right in his eye and stated in his small room in the Porter's Lodge. "You boy, you have seen war... been hurt... you have been tempered by fire. Everyone else here is soft as shit. You'd be good in a fight if it all went bad. You're a survivor Sasha. Don't dwell on what hurt you, just live for these moments. A warm bed, a drink, food in your belly. Simple things are good things. Not phones or TV's and al that crap on the adverts. Just good conversation. Your cousin, Antonin understands that. We talk at the banya at the Red Army Club. He's a good man, hard but you have to be. Being soft is the way of the devil."