Edward Pleasure was happy to be sitting in his old local around the corner from the Guardian offices near Kings Cross, London. He was meeting his old friend Frank Clark, a freelance sports reporter. Many years ago they had been at uni together,
"Good to see you Frank. Its been too long." Edward hugged his old friend.
"Well, stranger. It looks like San Francisco agrees with you. How are Maggie and Sabina?" Edward sat down and to drink from the pint of beer Edward had bought him.
"Maggie's doing some film costume work and really enjoying it and Sabina's started College, English major at Berkeley." Edward was over in London on his own, meeting with his editor for his new book.
"So you're all settled over there?" qyeried Frank, they had been in the US for three years. Sabina was 18, nearly nineteen now. Frank still remembered a young girl with bunches in her hair.
"I think until Sabina graduates." Edward was unsure if they would ever return to England.
Frank looked at his friend, the burns from the fire in France three years ago had been superficial, the damage to Edward's legs meant the man still had a heavy limp. The Pleasures had gone into hiding until Edward published his book on the dark side of Damian Cray. They'd all liked the States so much, Edward had stayed out there. That bastard Cray had died in mysterious circumstances in Thailand after disappearing under the radar. Rumours were he'd crossed some triad.
"So what's new in the world of sport?" inquired Edward of his friend.
"Actually, I have a story which might interest you concerning a member of the Paralympic swim team."
"Really?" Edward was perplexed, but very interested in what Frank had uncovered.
Frank grinned having got his old friend's interest. "Yeah, the youngest member of the freestyle relay team, a seventeen year old called Alexander Fletcher-Smith disappeared during the games. Well I did a bit of digging, the kid's dad died in Pakistan last January with three members of the SAS. He was allegedly a freelance telecommunications expert."
Edward immediately connected the dots, "So, the kids dad was a spook."
"Yeah, the interesting thing is the kid was adopted three years ago by Jonathan Smith, the said spook, and his partner Tony Fletcher." Frank then took another long gulp of the excellent bitter.
"The Actor?" quizzed Edward.
"Yeah. I tried to speak with Tony, but he put the phone down on me. You'll never guess who visited me the next day." The old hack enjoyed spinning out his yarn.
Edward smiled. "Some gentlemen working for the Home Office, by any chance?"
"I got two creeps from Special Branch telling me not to publish as it was a breach of the Official Secret Act." Frank said in a top that you award winning bastard sort of way.
"A teenager running away was an official secret?" Edward was now fully intrigued.
"I'll never know. Nigel Collingwood, the swim team manager, who initially was fine talking about Alexander, won't answer my calls now. All very conspiracy theory."
"So you have a picture of this kid?" Edward asked before finishing his pint.
Frank fished out a photo from his briefcase "Yeah, here you go. Him and the rest of his relay team. Alexander Fletcher-Smith is the one scowling to the left."
Edward almost dropped the photo. Frank could not help but notice the colour draining from Edward's face. "This kid was disabled, how?"
If Frank did not know any better he;d have guessed Edward had met this kid before. The sports reporter stated the facts from the kids Paralympic personal details. "S8 - double amputee, both lower legs. Accident in late July 2001 killed the kids previous foster parents. They were both yanks. Do you know this kid?"
"Yeah. He came on holiday with us in early July 2001, he'd been a ball boy at Wimbledon with Sabina. He was involved in a surfing accident while we were in Cornwall. He nearly died. We lost contact with him after that." Edward was perplexed Alex, Alex Rider lived with his housekeeper and did not have foster parents. Facts did not add up.
"Same kid?"
"Same kid, called Alex Rider then. He lived at Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. Sabina tried to contact him that Christmas. The house was rented out in August 2001. His guardian went back to the States, alone."
"Fuck Edward, if this isn't a story I'll eat my hat. What was his guardian called?"
"Jack Starbright." Edward said absent minded, thinking about his daughter's friend crippled in an accident just after they'd last seen him.
"Find him and get some answers."
Edward mused on the disjointed facts, "This kid was involved in a catching a triad thug at Wimbledon. I never followed anything up because of the death threats and the fire that summer, it was months afterwards Sabina wanted to catch up but we had no forwarding address."
"I smell another Pulitzer prize winning book." grinned Frank.
"I'll have to be very careful. Sabina was very upset when he disappeared, she was convinced that the triad had got to him. Shit I'll have to use some very deep sources for this." Edward was already going through his list of possible contacts.
Edward stood in the pub in Gloucester. His SAS contact came in and stood next to the journalist in the crowded bar. "What do you want, Pleasure?"
Edward had helped out on some info on an undercover operation several years go, his contact was always good at giving him snippets to follow up, never enough to break OSA but enough to set the journalist on the right track. "I want you to look at a photo and tell me if you know who it is?
The man smiled at the photo. "A copy of this is on the notice board at base. So you looking for Cub then?"
"Cub?" Edward wondered about the nickname and then remember all current members were given animal code names. "The kids name is Alex. I knew him as Alex Rider. His adoptive name is Alex Fletcher-Smith. When did he cross paths with the SAS?"
"Kid trained at Brecon in March 2001. Part of K Unit." The soldier said shortly.
"Christ! What was a 14 year old boy doing training with you arseholes?" Edward was amazed and shocked at his contact's relevation.
"You'll have to ask Alan Blunt or Tulip Jones that question. So where did you meet our Cub?" The soldier looked genuinely interested.
"He met my daughter in late May 2001. They were fast friends. We had to go into hiding that summer as you know. We lost touch. I've only recently found out about Alex's accident and adoption." Edward explained.
"Accident? Accident, my arse. That's a cover story and you know it. Fucking CIA operation in Cuba was a complete FUBAR from the start. Alex is still getting over what Scorpia did to him." The soldier then calmed himself quickly, most of the regiment were still upset about what had befallen their erstwhile adopted member.
"Scorpia?" The name was semi-familiar but Edward could not quite connect the name to any story at the moment.
The soldier's whole attitude changed to annoyed arrogance, "You know shit, Pleasure. Keep your nose out of this one. Leave Alex and his pa alone or our sergeant will make you regret it."
"A threat?" Edward was genuinely shocked at his contact;s change in attitude.
The man was now smiling like a shark, "A promise. Cub's birth father was SAS. He's family. Got it, reporter."
"I've got it. Thanks for the info." Edward had the CIA and Scorpia leads to follow. Finding Alex was secondary. This story was big, way beyond a missing Paralympic swimmer.