A/N: So, I said I'd update over the weekend, and yet I'm currently updating on a Thursday. And why am I updating ridiculously soon? Because you were all so nice and reviewed! :D I love you all.

It might also have had something to do with the very creative threat of T3LL M3 4 ST0RY who said she'd make vile angry rabid armadillos eat me alive…

And possibly with the Garglaxshians who are currently torturing water kangaroo until I update…

(It's been a very strange couple of days on the ffnet front…)

Anyways, onto the chapter!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise!

-o-O-o-

There was no doubt about it. Every feature of his face had been imprinted on Alex's memory since his earliest childhood. It had to be his uncle.

His dead uncle.

"How?" he said, flatly. "You're supposed to be dead."

"And you are supposed to be living in Chelsea with Jack," said Ian, frowning. "Not joining the SAS - aged 15 might I add."

Alex still had his gun raised, centred on Ian's chest. The older man glanced at it and raised an eyebrow but Alex's aim didn't waver, though he did flush slightly.

"You're in charge of the Aesir," stated Alex and Ian nodded.

"Why?" he asked.

Ian shrugged. "Why else? The money."

It was difficult to stop himself snarling and it was with a tight voice that Alex replied.

"A good man. A patriotic man. He will be missed." There was a paused while Alex forced himself to stop clenching his jaw. "The priest at your funeral should have worked for MI6, he was so good at lying."

Ian didn't say anything and simply sat, looking at Alex.

Alex gritted his teeth and raised his chin. Slowly, he began walking forward.

"Put down the gun," he said, coldly, "and turn around. Press your hands against the wall. I will not hesitate to shoot."

Ian frowned and set down the gun, but he didn't turn around. Cautiously, Alex approached.

He kept one hand steady on the gun, the barrel focused between Ian's eyes, while the other sent the second gun skittering across the room. Still moving cautiously and keeping an eye out for any sign of resistance from Ian, he reached for the handcuffs.

It was when Alex let his eyes flicker downwards to find Ian's wrists that the older man struck.

The gun went flying out of his hands and Alex himself staggered back a step before quickly regaining his balance and sinking into a defensive stance.

Rapidly scanning the room, Alex noted with relief that both the guns were well out of Ian's reach. He wasn't bothered that he couldn't reach them: despite what he had said, he wasn't convinced he could shoot his uncle no matter what the provocation.

Warily, the two circled each other, mentally reminding themselves of the other's fighting style. Here, Alex had the advantage as his style had changed a lot since he had begun to work for MI6, but Ian had far more experience and despite Alex's recent growth, he had not filled out to Ian's muscular width.

Ian stuck out with a foot and Alex danced back before retaliating with a flurry of strikes, every one blocked.

Blows began to fall swiftly on both sides and it was a sign of Alex's improved skill that so few got through. Even so, he was starting to tire when Ian finally seemed to make a mistake.

Anyone not as well trained as Alex would have missed it. A kick left the elder man off balance and Alex took full advantage.

It wasn't until the elbow crashed into the back of his knee that he realised he had been set up.

He crashed to the floor and felt Ian's weight settle on his back, one knee firmly between his shoulder blades.

"Good fight," said Ian and Alex began to struggle.

"Let me up," growled Alex.

"Er... no. I don't think so," said Ian. "See, you're with the SAS and if I let you up, you're going to go back to them."

"Of course I fucking am!"

"Language," reprimanded Ian and Alex snarled in anger.

"Just hear me out," said Ian, placatingly.

"Why the hell should I?" spat Alex. "You abandoned me to MI6!" He hadn't meant for that to sound so bitter.

"I know and I'm sorry," said Ian. "We were going to wait until you were eighteen, but events forced our hand."

"We?" asked Alex, frowning into the floorboards.

"Myself and Yassen Gregorovitch. We founded the Aesir together after he helped me fake my death."

Ian paused, apparently waiting for Alex to speak, but the teen remained silent.

"You're awfully quiet," said Ian after a moment.

"He has nothing to say to you," said a voice from the stairs and something knocked Ian off him.

Alex immediately rolled over and launched himself towards Ian, his fist connecting firmly with his uncle's head and knocking him out.

Panther slowly stood up.

"Thanks," said Alex and Panther nodded curtly.

"We need to get out of here," said the soldier. "Jackal radioed through a few moments ago. One of your team thinks they set of some sort of explosive. They've already started down the corridor. Mine too."

There was a crackle from the radio at Panther's belt.

"Panther, have you found Jaguar yet?" came Jackal's harried voice.

"Affirmative," said Panther.

"Then get the hell out of there!" yelled Jackal. "The building is going to go up at any moment!"

"We don't have time to get to the corridor," said Alex.

Panther scowled. "I hate jumping out of windows," he muttered as he crossed the room.

"Just move it," said Alex, trying to pick Ian up.

"Leave him," said Panther. "We don't have time."

"He was the entire point of the mission," snapped Alex irritably, hoisting the unconscious blond over his shoulders in a fireman's lift.

Panther rolled his eyes and moved towards the window, glancing over his shoulder once before jumping out. Alex peered out and realised that they were on the first floor, but still weren't that high up.

Panther was already running away from the building towards a group of four men in SAS uniform.

Alex gritted his teeth and jumped. His let out a hoarse yell as a stab of pain slashed at his still injured chest from the impact and the extra weight.

Momentarily, he fell to his knees before forcing himself back up and beginning to run.

Jackal met him halfway and relieved him of his burden and together they began to run. They were still knocked flat blast, Alex gasping as his injured ribs dug into the ground.

"You ok?" asked Jackal, as soon as they managed to regain their feet.

"Yeah," said Alex. "You? And your... passenger?"

"I'm fine," said Jackal. "Not sure about him. I guess we'll find out. We need to get back."

-o-O-o-

A/N: Now, apparently last time was a cliffhanger. I figured it wasn't because none of the good guys were in direct physical danger. But hey, what do you know, apparently some guy coming back from the dead counts as well! Luckily I'm pretty convinced that I'm safe from threats on this one.

And same thing applies, regarding reviews. I'll update Tuesday at the latest, but reviews might persuade me to update sooner… so review… please?