10. Cub's Coming

We headed back for our breakfast where I could see that the other units seemed to be buzzing. I hadn't told Dog and Bat what Polar Bear and I had discussed. Polar Bear was giving no sign that we had even had the conversation. We sat down with our gruel and grimaces on each of our faces as per usual. I looked over at Bat who seemed to notice that the units who had been with Wolf were looking very excited. This I knew was unusual for SAS camp where the normal facial expression was exhaustion.

'What's got everyone so excited?' I asked.

'Does it matter?' growled Polar Bear.

Yep Polar Bear had definitely gone back to how he was with Bat and Dog. Honestly I could swear that man was bipolar. Either that or he liked me. Bat gave Polar Bear a wary look obviously wondering what had got his stomach in a twist. I guessed he was scared that I would tell the others his secret. Not that I would. I don't give away my secrets. Not now, not ever! I mean I suspected that my father, my uncle and my aunt were assassins (even if I wished it weren't so) and I hadn't said anything. And I was a soldier in a camp full of SAS men and SAS trainees.

'It must be something big to get them to act like this,' Bat said after giving Polar Bear a wary glance.

'Wonder what,' murmured Dog.

'Why don't we ask,' I said. 'Hey Lynx what's going on?' I asked of the black leader of C Unit.

'Haven't you heard?' asked the young blonde in D Unit excitedly.

'No,' Dog, Bat, several other members of the shooters group.

'Cub's come to town,' the bald member of F Unit said.

'You're kidding?' demanded Polar Bear forgetting to be gruff for once.

'He arrived at the end of our combat lessons,' added the grey haired, hard eyed member of C Unit.

'That man knows how to fight,' added in Saber.

'What did he show you?' asked Lion.

'He doesn't do much by legal moves,' smirked Mole.

'Really?' I asked.

This didn't bother me at all. I could see several of my comrades shaking their heads. But I had been brought up by Alex Rider. And Dad was not one for letting things like legalities getting in the way of him winning. The way he saw it if you could get away with it and it would be for the best then you should do it. That got us in a lot of trouble in sports matches when we attempted to cheat. I remember what Dad had said to me when I told him I had a red card for pee wee football when I was seven years old.

Mum had still been alive back then. We were quite happy even with Dad's mysterious disappearances and injuries. But I didn't even think of them back then. It wasn't until after Mum was killed did I think it was odd. Every time that Dad left I would worry he wouldn't come back from work. Just like Mum had never come back. No matter what the teachers said it still scared me. After time I got used to it although I still had to remind myself that no one in the right mind would kill a banker!

But the injuries would always worry me. Now I wasn't so sure Dad was a banker. It would certainly explain the injuries. Did that mean that those on the same side as me – spies – tried to kill my father? Did Dad kill them? But surely they wouldn't have let me in if I was the son of an assassin! Unless Dad used a fake alias when taking hits. Or maybe he worked as an assassin for the government. I still wouldn't like it if that were the case but at least I could accept my Dad wasn't betraying the country I believed in.

It had been two years before she had been killed when I got the red card. It was June only two months left until the new baby was born. I remember the arguments we had about the names; mum had wanted Mary (Dad thought it was a boring name) whilst Dad had wanted Joan. Somehow they'd come to an agreement about Eleanor. At that time Mum had been very obviously pregnant and Dad was spending time off work to be with her. I was the only one in school with the twins going to nursery in the morning and Ian was still at home being only just two.

All in all, the Rider home a very happy household at that time. We could have no idea how things would change in years to come. At this time Jake's mum hadn't run off with the milkman. I remembered being very nervous about confronting my parents about this. They had both been at my football match with my younger siblings so had all seen. I knew if it had been some of my other friends parents they'd all have been grounded. So I tried to sneak past them without them hearing. But I underestimated Dad who sat me down in the kitchen.

'Dad,' I said nervously.

'John,' smiled Dad not looking cross at all.

'John,' frowned Mum looking disapproving.

'If this is about the football match I can explain,' I said desperately.

'You better young man,' my hormonal mother said warningly.

I was sure that if it had been any other mother whose seven year old son was off the football match for an illegal tackle that luckily didn't hurt anyone then they would have shouted. But Mum never shouted. Mum had said when I was younger that raising your voice to a child doesn't help, it just makes them angrier which makes you angrier. Dad didn't raise his voice to us much because Dad just didn't get angry. Dad could control most of his emotions. The only time I had seen him even slightly emotional was when Mum had died but he hid that too after coming back from his latest "conference" or was it hit?

'Look I didn't mean to,' I looked at Dad pleadingly. 'I just wanted to wi-'I began.

'John,' Dad said seriously. 'It's not the fact that you cheated but the fact you were caught. Next time you cheat learn to cover your tracks better.'

I had laughed at this. Only Dad could say something like that. Any other parent would be disappointed that I had cheated. But oh no not Dad; Dad was disappointed I had been caught cheating. That was just Dad all over. He didn't care what people thought of him. He just did and said what he did and said regardless of what other people said. Mum was less impressed than me though. She turned to look at my blonde father, her blue eyes blazing with fury as she hit Dad over the head with a newspaper.

Yes that's right my mother Carrie-Rose Naomi Rider Nee Hadley had hit Dad over the head with a newspaper. I hadn't thought anyone could get a one over Dad until then. But that was Mum all over. I had also not expected Mum to be hitting anyone even when hormonal. Mum was always so kind and gentle. Helen was the only one who had inherited that off mum whilst the rest of us were more than happy to beat bullies up. I think whole the school (including the teachers) knew not to tick us Riders off.

'Alexander John Rider,' Mum had hissed. 'That is not what you tell your seven year old son.'

'Carrie-'Dad had begun sounding placating.

'On no you're not going to Carrie me,' Mum had said, 'you tell your son off or I'll make you sleep on the couch and no amount of crazy stunts or gadgets will get you back into bed with me.'

I had thought that what Mum had said was funny. "You're not going to Carrie me" but I was careful to keep all laughter off my face. I was in enough trouble from Mum as it was without getting into more trouble. But the last sentence of Mum's still confused me; crazy stunts? Since when did Dad perform crazy stunts? Okay I knew he liked extreme sports but he was a banker. But now I suspected that Dad was an assassin maybe that accounted for his crazy stunts. Did that mean Mum knew? And gadgets; just because Dad always had top of the range mobiles and cars (that he'd never let us ride in) didn't mean he had gadgets.

I had wondered if that was mum's way of saying electronic gizmos. I had wondered then if Dad was some sort of inventor. But I had pushed that idea aside as I would have heard had my Dad invented anything. But maybe he did so in his spare time. I wondered if it was in his office. I had always tried to get into his office but it seemed more impenetrable than Fort Knox. I had thought then that maybe Dad had gadgets in there. What did Dad have to hide? As a child I had thought many things from the fact that Dad was really an alien with a secret spaceship (that was when I was into Doctor Who) to now thinking it was the fact he was an Assassin.

'Yes, Carrie, dear,' Dad had said meekly. 'John you shouldn't have cheated,' Dad had told me.

Then he glanced at Mum and mouthed the words "and got caught". Mum appeared not to notice and I tried not to smile, quite successfully. I was then sent up to my room and only allowed down for dinner. Mums I had thought then. But by the next morning it had been forgotten by the fact that Ian was feeling poorly. By the end of the week we all had it, even Dad although he tried not to show it. Dad was the only one who could actually function with that horrible bug that had the rest of us dead for a week.

'Yeah,' said Stag, 'so much for honour and nobility.'

'If it means you survive who cares,' argued the grey haired man from C unit.

'It means we're no better than those we fight,' argued Stag.

'It's War,' said Lizard harshly. 'What do you expect?'

'But what is he like?' I asked again.

'A good teacher,' Lynx said.

'Pushes you to better yourself,' added Saber.

'Always seems to know everything about everyone,' added the Leader of D Unit.

'That was unnerving,' agreed Rat.

'Very,' agreed Stag.

'What if you can't do what he asks of you?' asked the small member of M Unit.

'He has no time for incompetence,' Polar Bear growled.

'If you can't do it he says you might as well leave,' added one of D Unit, 'because we'll only die on the field.'

I was slightly nervous about meeting this Cub now. I just hoped that I didn't pass out in hand to hand combat again. But then I remembered he wasn't going to be teaching Hand to Hand Combat next. I knew we had counter terrorism. So Cub knew something about terrorist organisations. I supposed that he was a spy. At least according to Polar Bear who as gruff as he was I did have a great deal of respect for and trusted him with my life. Presumably Cub had done some missions where he infiltrated a terrorist organisation.

'Polar Bear?' I said hesitantly and unsurprisingly I got no reply. 'Do you know if Cub knows a lot about terrorist organisations?'

He and I both knew what I wasn't saying. I was truthfully asking whether or not when he was here last year had Cub taught him about terrorist organisations. But I had not said in so many words that he had been binned last year. We both were aware that everyone had seen through the question. But for some reason Polar Bear didn't seem to mind too much. Maybe it was his respect for this Cub person shining through. I had to admit with what everyone had said I was excited and more than a little nervous about what Cub could teach me – well us.

'Everything,' growled Polar Bear.

'What?' I asked confused.

'Cub knows everything on terrorism,' growled Polar Bear.

'Really?' I asked.

Polar Bear just grunted. I ate the rest of my meal in silence wondering what Polar Bear had meant that Cub knew everything on terrorism. I had to say I was excited and more than a little nervous. Polar Bear didn't hand respect out like candy. I believed that in our whole camp I was the only one who had managed to gain his respect. The fact that he acted like this about Cub made me think that this Cub was brilliant. I really wanted to hurry up and get over to the teaching rooms to see who this Cub was.