It had been four days since the arrest of Anthony Sean Howell in Gibraltar. The suspected murderer was awaiting transfer to Spain in regard to an international arrest warrant. John Rider suspected Ash would most likely be dead by 'suicide' before he went to trial and most likely before he left British territory. A Spanish photographer had snapped the arrest, which had made the news across Europe, stopping MI6 making their problem disappear. There were too many secrets and a mountain of dirty laundry for MI6 Special Operations for Ash's actions to be played out before judges and the media. The journalists were camped out in the small British Overseas Territory. There were still enough vultures hanging around Althone before the funeral of Helen Beckett Rider.
John's heart sank when he recognised the petit form of Dr. Three arrived to pay his respects at his wife's wake. He was not surprised by the Scorpia presence and as a Director himself, another committee member was here to pass judgement. It made sense it was Dr. Three; the only member not widely know to other agencies. The man looked harmless.
The unwritten rule was that assassin's died on the job. There were rumours that the most lucrative and wily operatives either faked their own death to escape into obscurity or became the handler passing out assignments. John had neither the resources nor the opportunity to run. Dr. Three was here with a team to ensure Scorpia's secrets died with Hunter and to protect Alex, John would have to comply. He had made the choice of turning his back on the Bank in 1987, after Blunt had ordered the death of his wife and unborn child. He should have protected Helen better when he went undercover, but now he was reaping the only outcome of his betrayal by MI6. He had a water tight will, plenty of money in trust for the upkeep and education of his son. A list of chosen guardians including Tulip Jones, his younger brother and Julia Rothman. He had also written a letter to his young son detailing all his choices, in hindsight riddled with mistakes and regrets, and his hopes that Alex had a happy life with nothing to do with spying, terrorism and Scorpia and to never doubt that both his daddy and mummy loved him more than the stars, moon or life itself.
Tulip Jones stood with her husband, Dr. Howell Gruffudd Jones. They both nursed glasses of single malt whiskey to toast a woman neither had met. They were joined by Ian Rider. Tulip knew of the rift between the brothers, caused by John marrying the nurse he loved. Ian had a strange view on life, very straight laced and narrow, he was convinced marriage was a stepping stone to a promising career, only committing to a well connected family to make up for his own lowly birth. The younger Rider brother was ambitious, his eye on Department head and the Possibility of becoming Director of Her Majesty's Secret Service. At some point, post operations Ian Rider would marry a girl with impeccable pedigree and very well connected. Ian was a much more political animal than John, colder and driven. Tulip could understand Helen's dislike of her brother-in-law.
John Rider's ex handler then looked over at her former colleague and friend. He was drawn, tired and on his fourth glass of whiskey. He had not been tempted by the sumptuous buffet. The Armitage Hotel had put on a fine spread. The room tastefully and soberly decorated, now filled with friends and coworkers of a well liked and respected nurse. Most of whom had not known John except for his trial and exoneration; most disapproved of her ex-husband, his reputation tarnished by MI6 to get an agent on place with Scorpia. Only Blunt had overplayed his hand in his effort to keep his asset in place.
Tulip Jones left her husband to entertain Ian and she went to talk with John and his strange Chinese companion.
Hunter looked up to see Mrs. Jones and smiled ruefully at his life coming full circle, but no amount of wishing would turn back time so he could refuse that woman's sweet lies when she recruited him for Black Ops. "Good Evening, Mrs. Jones. My companion is the esteemed Dr. Li Shan of the Hanoi Psychological Institute."
"Dr. Li, a pleasure." It took all Tulip Jones' training not to show fear and shock that the Scorpia Master of Torture and Interrogation was sat in this room.
"It is such an honour to meet the new Commissioner at Interpol. Such a promotion, you must be thrilled." The old man's face crinkled into a smile showing neat yellow teeth, stained from smoking unfiltered cigarettes. "I must say goodnight, I have had a long flight. My condolences again for the loss of your son's mother, Mr. Rider."
Tulip sipped her whiskey and watched four men dressed in designer suits flank the old man as he left. "I take it you cannot leave Scorpia."
"No, I need to get Alex safe with a foster family. Then I will return to work." It was a small lie, Hunter had been on newspapers and televison news across Europe. He was too well known to return to an independent agency which relied on anonymity of its operatives.
"I will talk to Howell, we can take him. Alex has lived in France before, hasn't he?"
"Yes. I will talk to the both of you and Ian tomorrow morning. Come over to Mimi's cottage about 9." John then got up to go to the bar, with a couple of whiskeys he would excuse himself to check on Alex. His son was currently being looked after by a pair of old ladies, babysitting the poor motherless child. His son who had not cried once today.
Tulip hoped she was not reading more into this, but Alex was going to lose both his parents. The infamous guest arriving after the funeral was drawing John Rider's brief moment of fame to a close. All publicity was an anathema to the very secret conglomeration of terrorists, assassins and torturers. She shivered as she suddenly felt cold and then wished for something to remove the taste of the alcohol from her mouth.