Tom Harris had been invited to the cinema of all things by his sort of friend, James Sprintz. They had kept in irregular contact over the years. The only thing they really had in common was Alex, the boy who had fucked off in 2002, ten years ago now. Tom was now twenty-five. He had lived and worked in Paris for six years. First as an assistant at a photographic studio, taking generic pictures of kids, families and weddings. He had worked on the weekends taking paparazzi shots in clubs and night spots. Standard background for most photographers. He now did mostly fashion and magazine shoots but had also managed a couple of exhibitions. He was on the list on the fashion magazines and agencies across Paris and kept himself busy. Not famous himself but working.

James worked for Saxo Bank as a financial whizzkid. Carrying on in the family trade. Not working for his dad, but in the same line of work. He'd been in Paris six months. Tom had gone to a few parties with the guy. They moved in completely separate social circles.

The small arthouse cinema was showing a Russian film with french subtitles. 'Oh, joy!' thought Tom. Even after all this time, Tom could speak the language well enough but his reading in French was not brilliant. He spoke not one word of russian. He had taken note of the film in the press. It had good reviews and had won awards at a couple of film festivals. An independant, micro budget affair. Probably all angst and serious actors looking serious for two hours, give him an action movie any day.

James smiled at the pissed off looking photographer as he strolled up. Tom was not happy. At least the German banker was paying. As they sat in the almost full cinema, Tom stated off hand, "So James... this is more of a serious date movie. Is it really that good that you broke off from number crunching to get me to see it?"

The dark haired German shook his head and stated enigmatically. "There's an actor called Novikov in it. He plays the silent lodger. Watch him."

Tom sat and watched the film, without concentrating on the subtitles. To be frank, he was certain he'd fall asleep in minutes but he forced himself to stay awake. The lodger did not appear until 20 minutes in. He looked an awful lot like Alex. But with make-up, that meant nothing. Then there was the scene in a turkish bath. Novikov was buck naked and scarred. Unique scars, burns on his back like tear drops across the shoulder and jagged raised flesh lower down, a heart surgery scar on his sternum and the odd flat penny of scar tissue above his heart. Tom knew how each and every one of those scars had been caused. The guy on screen was Alex Rider. He sat fixated on the film now. In the last scene it was the lodger, silent until that point who spoke, gave hope and comfort to the main protagonist almost destroyed by his entanglement with the mafia. The voice was deep, harsh and not a bit like Alex's London accent. His eyes were not deceiving him. His old friend was a bloody actor in Russia. The film was very different than the school production of Sweeney Todd, the only other time Tom had seen Alex act.

The titles flowed with strange Russian folk music playing. The two men sat side by side with only a couple of other film buffs bothering to wait until the lights came up.

"Fuck, James! That was Alex! He's a bloody actor." Tom sat not wanting to move. Was it shock?

"I knew you'd be able to give a positive ID. The scars are real?"

"Yeah, all those scars are real. Alex was a bit cagey undressing after he got burned. I saw them fully, when he got out of hospital in January 2002, after the incident in Kenya." Tom felt suddenly bereft. "I think I'm the only one apart from Jack who saw his back. He was really body conscious about them. Thought he was a disfigured freak."

James then slapped Tom on the arm lightly and then got up. "Come on, you need a drink."

They did not go far, just across the street to the nearest restaurant. Tom sat thinking on the film, on the man on screen. Alex but not Alex. Tom supposed that meant he was a good actor or just the fact after 10 years in Russia Alex was a completely different person. "So you've seen this film before?"

"On friday, my girlfriend wanted to see it. I nearly died when I saw that Novikov bloke. I was 90% sure it was Alex, but I only met him like three times. You were his best bud." James got the waiters attention and ordered a bottle of red wine and some food.

"So what have you found out about Novikov?" Tom knew James would have been digging already. The german kid had a slight complex on the fact Alex had saved him but no one had saved Alex from his demons.

"Graduated the Russian Academy of Theatre Arts in 2009, top of his class. He had already starred in six theatre productions and three films. Then did four months on a soap opera, reprised his role this year. He played a nasty piece of work in it, teenage blackmailer and murderer. It was prime time evening fare, on four nights a week. So he's famous in Russia. Done two other TV mini series, one where he was the main star. In a magazine article he stated he prefers supporting roles. That film is the only one where he's done nudity. The production notes state his scars are from surviving a car bombing at 14 when he was living in Groznhy. A russian region under civil war at the time. Then went to school in Ulan Ude. I had a friend of a friend ask around about him in Moscow. This Aleksandr Novikov was adopted by a General Antonin Konovalov in 2005, a general in the KGB. That film and seven others have been produced by Novikov's small independent production company."

"So have you watched any of these other films?" Tom wondered if the others were any good.

"Yes. If you came back to my place you can watch the two films I was able to get on DVD. The first you'll like. Slash/horror called Lost Cadet. The second is war movie. Alex plays an SS nutcase. Chilling and brutal. He was nominated for a Nika Award for best Actor two years ago."

"Nika?" Tom asked perplexed.

The waiter had just returned with the wine, briefly interrupting their discussion on Sasha Novikov. "Russian Academy of Film - their OSCARS. He's favourite to win the best supporting actor for Apartment 12b and maybe even again for best film as he is the producer." James then drank the newly poured wine.

"Shit, he's famous?"

"Very, even has a bloody fan club."

…...

Tom woke to raised voices. Shit he'd fallen asleep on James sofa in his penthouse apartment on the Left Bank, so much more upmarket than the small converted garage where Tom lived and worked. He stood up to see James Sprintz having words with a model, Tom sort of knew. Tom picked up his jacket, did a short comedic wave and made a hasty exit with"Hi, Luisa, James. I have work... I ring you James, OK." The domestic carried on as Tom exited, hash words still muffled as the lift closed.

He had got half way down the street, when James was on the phone. "Fuck, sorry about my girlfriend. She's a bit of a control freak. Accused me of having an affair with you. Are you gay Tom?"

"Umm, no. You know I used to go out with Sabina. We were serious, for about three weeks, when we were both eighteen. My only try at serious. I don't do long term. Not my scene. I turned Luisa down when she propositioned me during a shot last year, so she thinks I'm queer, go figure." Tom did not date models. Too much hassle unless you were serious and he did not want permanent. He was alright on his own. He preferred dating older women, newly divorced. They liked a few dates and then moved on.

"OK see you later, girlfriend." James cheekily signed off.

The two men met two days later for a late supper to continue their Alex Rider conspiracy group. James handed over a scrap of paper. "Its the phone numbers for Aleksandr Novikov. Flat in Moscow on the top and his direct dial at his production company. He has no known personal email."

Tom did not need any encouragement. He rang the office number first, straight away.