Okay, the penultimate chapter is here after three long years - fresh off the presses and completely unbetaed! I am so sorry about the wait and I have a good head start on the final chapter so hopefully it won't take near as long to be put up. Thanks so much to all my patient readers - I hope you enjoy this installment.

Title: Pay it Forward
By Marns AKA Bumpkin
Rated PG
Gen
(Wordcount: 2,937)

Part 7:

It was only two weeks after Jack had been told the whole story, this time without embellishments or any juggling of the truth (and hadn't that been a kick in the pants, as well as being more than a bit scary, to find out that her employers were; one - a top echelon spy ala James Bond fame, and two - a legendary assassin who was renowned for never missing his mark), that found her, along with Yassen, the Riders, and Tom at the firing range. Now Jack wasn't a stranger to guns, thanks to her law enforcement inclined father and brothers, but the things that the two men she worked for were showing her they could do with the weapons was blowing her mind. Yassen's lessons in particular.

Along with lessons on gun safety, reassembling and gun care, the boys were being taught instinctive firing. She and Ian were also being shown the hows behind it but… well, to put it nicely – their attempts could only be called dismal failures. Frankly they were too old to catch on; it was only a skill you could pick up before you formed other habits. That wasn't to say the skills they had were being dismissed. No, they were also being learned by the boys at the same time.

It was actually kinda fun, the give and take of teaching and learning the differing methods that all three adults used – that was if they ignored why they had the skills. Ian and Yassen more than Jack of course, her reasons for knowing what she did about guns and self defense was very similar to why they were teaching the boys. Being able to protect herself if any of the nefarious someones her law enforcement dad or brothers had dealt with during the course of executing their duties had come after her for retaliation. Thankfully she'd never had to actually deal with anything like that before her little trip over the pond, well the little trip that was turning into a rather long stretch as Ian and Yassen were very happy to keep her gainfully employed for the foreseeable future.

Not so fun were the self defense lessons. The lessons themselves weren't bad exactly, but there was no way that getting your butt whooped by two eight going on nine year olds wasn't just plain embarrassing. She had thought that she was pretty good thanks to all the wrangling she had done with her brothers while growing up, but Alex and Tom put any expertise she had in the dust. Admittedly more Alex than Tom since he'd been going to various martial arts lessons for nearly as long as he could walk and Tom had only started with the martial arts after he encountered Alex and his insane guardians with the start of his school life. Their sheer energy level was enough to make even Ian and Yassen quail a bit, even when their skills still majorly outstripped the boys, so Jack didn't feel quite as bad as she could have at her dismal performance against the two little hellions. Plus, there was the fact that she was learning a whole lot from her employers when they threw her to the proverbial wolves, e.g.; when they stood back and had her fight the boys while calling out suggestions – the rotters.

The other elements of the boys' extra-curricular education were actually a lot of fun and Jack thought that she would have loved to participate even if she hadn't known why they were doing it. Rock climbing, gymnastics, yoga, survivalist training while camping - Jack actually wasn't that fond of the survivalist training stuff, living that rough with the bare minimum of tools was never going to be a passion of hers, let alone something she would do often or voluntarily – and to round off the insane list, cooking classes. The last was something that Jack was pretty sure Ian and Yassen thought to include because they were again attempting to get out of doing the cooking for the household themselves. They had certainly tried valiantly to push the kitchen chores off onto her when they'd hired her but she wasn't stupid; she'd made sure that the only time she had to step foot into the kitchen was when neither Ian or Yassen were home. Alex thought their ongoing debate on who did the cooking was funny but was wise enough to stay out of it.

Even with the incredibly packed schedule, the Rider household fell into a routine as time continued to march forward. They cycled through the schedule of different languages to be spoken in the house, attended all the classes, went on many short trips in between attending to school and work respectively – Alex, Tom and Jack for the first and Ian and Yassen for the second – and somehow nothing happened to disrupt their lives for five years.

Ian and Yassen were both again working at the same time and out of the house so only fourteen year old Alex and Jack were in residence when things went sour. It was late when the chime sounded and woke Alex. His eyes flickered open but he didn't move except to glance over to the glowing numbers on his alarm clock as the chime sounded a second time. Alex heard when Jack managed to pry herself out of bed and trundle down the stairs, and then down the hall to the front door. Alex rolled out of bed and glanced out his window to see a police car parked outside when he heard whoever it was at the door ask, "Mrs. Rider?"

"No, I'm the housekeeper. What is it? What has happened?" Jack answered as Alex quietly opened his door and padded downstairs on silent feet to eavesdrop better. He clearly heard when the two officers at the door established that they were at the right house and then asked to come inside to talk. Alex knew why they were there. He knew that it was bad news because of the police stood, awkward and unhappy, and he knew because of their voices. They were telling Jack about how Ian had supposedly been in a car accident, how he'd been burned beyond recognition and they'd only been able to identify him through dental records. Alex was frozen, he didn't know how to react – and he could tell that Jack wasn't much better off by her subdued reactions to what she was being told. The police left soon afterwards and Alex ghosted into the room Jack had returned to after seeing the policemen out.

The police had been gone for about ten minutes when the phone shrilled and Jack started badly at the sound. It rang two more times and as Alex saw that Jack wasn't going to answer he leaned over to do so. He picked up the handset and hit the speakerphone button so Jack could also hear whoever it was calling at this hour. "Hello?"

"Alex! Why are you answering the phone at this hour? Where's Jack?" Yassen's voice crackled over the line as he was obviously using a cell phone from somewhere without good reception.

"Jack is here too and the reason I am up right now is because we were woken by the police at the door to let us know that Ian was dead."

"Oh damn it! They certainly didn't waste any time – listen, Ian isn't dead. Well, I guess officially he's dead, but he's not actually physically dead."

Alex blinked in confusion as Jack surged forward to yell in the direction of the phone, "What? Ian's alive? That is what you are trying to say right, Yassen?"

"Yes. Ian is alive and we're going to have to figure out a way for him to miraculously come back to 'life' somehow after the current mess is dealt with, but for the time being you two have to act as though you believe him to be dead."

Alex and Jack shared a speaking look with each other, it was one of 'those' things. Sometimes having an internationally renowned hit-man and a top echelon spy living in the same house was a logistical nightmare. This it seemed was yet another instance of the two getting tangled on a professional level. It didn't happen often but when it did, yeah, it wasn't fun – more like a huge headache for all involved.

Alex sighed and said, "If we're to act as if Ian is dead in truth, then we're going to have to organize a funeral and will reading and all that I suppose."

"Most of that should be handled by the Royal and General so don't worry, you won't actually have to do much. I don't have much time left to talk as I will soon be missed but I wanted to make sure you knew Ian was fine and nowhere near dead. I am not going to be reachable for the remainder of this job as my employer is lacking that essential quality in a human being called sanity and I'll not be able to get away much, if at all. Goodbye." The dial tone began to drone and Alex quickly pushed the end call button. Then he sat back and looked tiredly at Jack.

"Guess there isn't much to be done right now and I for one need more sleep. Bed and then worry about all this in the morning?"

Jack just yawned in response and Alex took that as her agreement. He got to his feet and headed back up to his room, Jack following after she locked the front door again and put the chain lock on. Alex had paused when he reached Jack's door to wait for her to get up the stairs and give her a hug and then he took the few extra steps to reach his own door. He didn't bother closing his door, he just let himself fall down face first onto his pillow and squirmed to get his blankets back to somewhat covering him while he slept. His last thought before falling asleep again was about how bad this could have been had Yassen not taken the chance to come and find his old mentor's younger brother to help him raise Alex. Yassen could have killed Ian for real and Alex would have only had Jack. It was a terrifying thought and one Alex was very grateful that he wouldn't have to live with that scenario.

x-X-x

The next morning both Jack and Alex slept in a bit due to the drama of the night before. Jack was at least was awake enough to remember to call Alex's school and get him excused for the day. Neither Jack nor Alex were under any illusions that they would have a peaceful day to grieve. They were right. Late morning they got five visitors, a lawyer who knew nothing about a will but somehow had been charged with organizing the funeral. The funeral director who had been recommended by the lawyer. A vicar who seemed to be very disturbed by Jack and Alex's dry eyes. A neighbor from across the road who had shoehorned herself into the group seeing an opportunity for gossip (She had been shown the door in a hurry with some rather cross words from Jack burning in her ears.). And finally a man from the 'bank'.

Crawley, from personnel, as he'd introduced himself was full of smooth words of condolence. "All of us at the Royal and General are deeply shocked," he said as he adjusted the arms of his polyester suit and smoothing a hand down his Marks & Spencer tie. He looked to be about thirty something years old and his face was highly forgettable, even while he was standing in front of you and talking. "But if there is anything we can do…"

Alex scrubbed a hand over his face and stared at the floor. "What will happen now?"

"You don't have to worry," Crawley said. "The bank will take care of everything. That's my job. You can leave everything to me."

Alex nodded and asked to be excused, he didn't feel up to long performances in front of an obvious intelligence agent when he had no idea when he'd see Ian again. It was great that he wasn't dead for real but him hiding out meant that he was still lost to Alex for the duration. Jack waved him away and he gladly escaped to knock some balls around on Ian's snooker table and kill some time. Jack joined him after she got rid of Crawley and filled him in on what was going to happen, she then said that they would go to get some Burger King later because the absolute last thing she felt like doing during this circus was cook. Alex snickered as she grumbled that Ian had finally figured out a way to duck the cooking even when he wasn't on assignment, trust Jack to hone in on that factor of the situation.

The day of the funeral arrived and Alex and Jack, dressed to their depressing best, were ushered into a black car that had come from nowhere and surrounded with people he'd never met before. Ian Rider was to be 'buried' in Brompton Cemetery on Fullham Road, in the shadow of the Chelsea football field. Alex knew where he'd rather be on the warm Wednesday afternoon. Thirty people who were complete strangers to Alex milled around as the service began. The service had just gotten started when a black Rolls-Royce drew up and a man got out. Alex watched him walk forward and felt his skin crawl as he got closer – there was just something about the man. He was rather ordinary to look at, rather like an older Crawley, but much greyer. Grey suit, grey hair, grey skin, grey mouth, empty grey eyes behind his square gunmetal grey spectacles… perhaps ordinary wasn't exactly the best term to describe the man, cadaverous or creepy might have been better. Alex shivered, whoever the man was, he seemed to have less life than anyone in the cemetery – above or below ground.

Crawley must have seen where Alex was staring and after tapping his shoulder to make Alex aware he was there, he leaned over to whisper into Alex's ear, "That's Mr. Blunt, he's the chairman of the bank."

Alex could only think irreverently, 'huh, so that's what a head spy looks like - creeeepy.' He wisely kept the thought to himself because as far as he understood, Ian shouldn't have told Alex anything about his work. Then he had to bite his tongue hard to keep back his amusement as he thought of what Tom would have said about Blunt. Okay, ow. A few tears shimmered to life in his eyes as he did in fact bite his tongue in his effort to control himself. Ah well, it added authenticity to his grieving persona – a stiff upper lip only went so far before you became an uncaring automaton to onlookers. It was good timing that when Alex was manufacturing his tears that the recommended vicar was wrapping up his graveside address.

Alex let himself sag and turned to find Jack so they could leave. He was more than done with this charade. Unfortunately as he was looking around for wherever Jack had gotten to, Alex saw that Blunt was approaching him, stepping carefully around the edge of the grave. 'Oh god, what now?' As the man got close, Alex noted with some bemusement that the man was only a little taller than him. And that his skin didn't look real, it looked more like plastic than anything else.

"You must be Alex. I am Alan Blunt." Those empty grey eyes magnified behind the spectacles were fastened firmly on Alex and Alex had to again suppress a shiver and suffer through his skin creeping like it wanted to retreat whether Alex went with it or not. "Your Uncle often spoke about you."

Alex knew that was a lie, the last thing Ian would have done at work was talk about his unconventional home life – but he could hardly say anything about that either, so Alex shouldered back his revulsion and tried to deflect. "He never mentioned you, sorry. He didn't talk about work at home ever, so…"

The grey lips twitched briefly at Alex's words and Alex wondered why. Blunt must have seen the poorly disguised question in Alex's eyes, but he only said, "I hope we'll meet again…yes, I think we shall."

Alex didn't want to draw any more unwanted attention from man his uncle had worked for so he couldn't ask about why Blunt was so sure that they would meet again, instead he was only able to warily watch as the man turned and walked away. He kept his eyes locked on the man and so that is why he saw when the wind caught and blew open the suit jacket that Blunt's driver was wearing as he leaned over to open the back door of the Rolls-Royce for Blunt. The driver had recovered quickly but not quick enough that Alex wouldn't have seen the stark shape of a holstered automatic pistol revealed against the man's snowy white dress shirt. Alex did his best to feign like the sight was unexpected and a bit alarming, he hoped his acting was good but something very close to an emotion slithered over Blunt's face and Alex's heart sank. Alex just knew right then that something bad was going to happen in the near future, he just knew it.

x-X-x

Only one more chapter after this, thanks again to the many that are following this and I hope to post the last sooner rather than later.

Marns.