An hour in, an eighth of the way through the first of twenty files and Alex was already regretting his decision to stay in Russia. He'd happily give up pay to go back to Brecon's and do whatever sadistic punishment the Sage felt like giving to AWOL soldiers. Translating this was getting him nowhere. The transcriber, Janet, she was clever, but overly so. It was if she didn't know how to be human; her sole existence was work. She wrote what he said in neat cursive shorthand and never once became distracted. They were all like that. Yuri, the man Smith had referred to as Doctor D, was perhaps the exception. Alex had already asked for the man's help three times. Each time he was greeted with stoic coldness. It was cynicism that painted over everything he had explained to 'security'. A cynicism Alex related to inherently; he was sure the older man was getting threatened in order to work or felt threatened to leave this position. Everyone was new to this facility except Yuri and Kirov they had been working on this project for a while. He was beginning to wonder what went wrong.

Evidence was beginning to mount on an operation that resembled a lot like Stormbreaker. The mission that had ended Ian's life; it was Alex's first missionand the first time he'd met the people who were rapidly becoming his family. It was poetic and scathingly Bond like Alex mused as he read ahead, not at all amused.

Document:

The conclusive result of first stage testing has revealed that the synthesized product will be contagious and spread rapidly if the contaminant area is not properly established. An antidote is possible, but extremely difficult to manufacture on any scale… Ethics behind synthesizing Anthrax is beginning to be questioned by staff members. I strongly recommend discontinuation of experiments unfortunately that is not possible.

Head of Research,

Estrov Farming Facility

Anton Gregorovich

Every piece of training Alex had ever received from his Uncle to SCORPIA was required to mask his reaction. What else has Yassen been keeping from him? Because Alex was damn sure that there were very few who had 'Gregorovich' as a surname, but it explained his reluctance to talk straight and determination to tail him everywhere. These were clearly personal files though, four years prior to the one they were in now. How did Smith get his hands on it?

"Great, thank you Alexi. I'll type this up so come back in a couple of hours and we'll continue. You have no idea how long it was taking me to go back and forth in dictionaries, I'm amazed they even sent you out here."

"I'm just here doing what I'm told Ma'am." Alex lied through his teeth, he could just picture Yassen and Ben's reaction to such a statement. Mostly he was thankful for an escape. He had questions, now he had an opportunity to find the answers.

Da da da daaa line break guys;)

Ben felt like he was being led in circles. Long, pointless, infinite, infuriating circles. The corridors were identical although if his ward was anything like his birth father; the only thing he had to worry about was whatever random excuse for luck was thrown their way. It was almost like that time when they'd been escaping in Mexico in a similar maze.

They had yet to be interrogated so were in one piece, that is of course until Alex had led them past the guard barracks. Triggering the alarm and of course the guards who were on their tails until they lost them at a local market place- minutes after the teenager had been shot through his leg. The only good thing was that he was able to request an EVAC, because that scratch Alex had brushed aside was had gone clean through his thigh. Narrowly missing the femur, a major artery and had minimal muscle damage.

John checked over his shoulder in irregular intervals, assessing the health of his target and making sure they weren't being followed. His gun was in its holster to avoid arousing suspicion. He'd noted that walking into the compound he wasn't really given a second look. Clad in dark navy, loose fitted, clothes he chose meant the majority of the security on site cloaked him. However the worn and, in places, bloodied clothes that Fox wore stood out. John was running with the hope that they'd think he was escorting the prisoner to a different cell. At least until he was close enough to the wire to get themselves out.

Hunter was pleasantly surprised to note his vigil was accompanied by the fairly graceful soldier. Fox moved quietly and efficiently, better than quite a few of Malagosto's latest batch of trainees he'd seen while teaching there…

They must have missed the footsteps. Neither of them were able to hear any signs of approach. Therefore both of them were caught off guard as someone grabbed their arms and pushed them forward, urgently, to the next door and then through it. The room was dark, and the captor kept his back against the door with his face firmly hidden by shadows. John Rider still had his gun, Ben was still unarmed and they had every intention of going down fighting. In an unspoken agreement they readied themselves, waiting for an opening to strike. An opening that never came.

"What the hell are you doing here Ben? You're meant to be in France you idiot. Safe."