Alex didn't know what went wrong. There was something missing and Alex was not sure what to do to make it better.

"Water?" asked the man with his father's face and his father's voice.

"No thanks," he replied. It didn't exactly sound like him and he was sure his voice had cracked on the first word.

"Alex," said the peppermint woman sternly as if she was reprimanding him for doing something wrong.

Alex froze, hearing the name out of her mouth. Alex's father's face turned taut for a brief moment before it slid away. They knew, he realized. Suddenly, the room turned a few degrees hotter. A hand adjusting the loose collar of his shirt, Alex let his eyes flickered from face to face. They finally landed on Wolf. Wolf didn't look surprised. All of them knew.

"I…"

"We know," said John quietly. "And trust me, we understand."

"...Know what?"

Like the father he was, John humored Alex's attempt at innocence. "Scorpia, their game, Fletcher, and everything that they made you do. You don't have to hide it anymore. We will help you get out of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Wolf shut the door to his office, turned the blinds, and took a seat in the chair a few feet from his. "You're the Parkour kid. You stole money and you worked with Fletcher to do it. Fletcher is an assassin working for Scorpia. We know everything, Mayford."

Alex's lips quirked up in a small smile at the name. However, Wolf immediately destroyed the smile. "And you're not twenty-two either."

"Look," John intervened. "All we want to do is get you out of there safe and sound."

"We?" Alex eyed his father. "I thought you're a banker."

John sighed. "I'm sorry I lied. I couldn't tell you or anybody. Right now, your safety is very important to us."

"You have a plan?"

"What?"

"You want to get me out of there. Do you have a plan or are you just going to grab me and hope Fletcher will just let me go with what I know?"

"Of course not. We won't let him come close to you."

Alex had the feeling that if Fletcher were to get close, the man would either be captured or die by the hands of MI6. It sent foreboding shivers down his spine despite the heat in the room. The idea of Fletcher dying wasn't very agreeable with him because, ultimately, the man had done nothing wrong besides standing by his goal. But then, didn't everybody else?

"I want to know what happened to Claire," said Alex suddenly. "Why was she there?" And where was Yassen? Was he already dead?

The three adults in the room looked at each other as if preparing an ELI-5 response. It was Wolf who delivered it. "I received a report from my officers about a shooting at the plaza. We went to investigate and there we found Claire and…Yassen Gregorovich." The man watched Alex's face for any recognition. "He's an assassin working for Scorpia, same as Fletcher."

"Where is he?"

"We saw him briefly but he left right after without us noticing," his father replied.

So the assassin was alive yet he couldn't have protected a simple street girl. Did Claire die alone?

"Claire and Gregorovich were targeted by Scorpia," Mrs. Jones said, her arms crossed with a look on her face. "I'm sure you know why."

Alex shrugged.

"Scorpia's after something," she continued. "A USB drive. I'm sure you know that. Isn't that what your friend Fletcher is after as well?"

"I dunno."

"Whatever you know about the whereabouts of the USB, you should let us know. The sooner we get it, the sooner this will all be over and you can go home."

By now, Fletcher should've already found Sebastien Morrison. If Beck's information was correct, they would be a step closer to finding the USB drive if not already have it in their possession. And then Fletcher would probably use it to blackmail the boss and get his position. And then Scorpia would have a new leader. And then Alex could go home. And then what? And then nothing, because their story should just end there. It wasn't as if Fletcher becoming the head of an international assassin organization would impact his life; although if he thought about it, Alex could one day honestly say that he had friends in high places. Fletcher owed him big time.

"Are you protecting him?" asked his father suddenly. "The assassin?"

Pfft. Fletcher needing protection from him? Uh, no? "I'm not. I just don't see any point choosing your side."

John looked disappointed by his response and Alex had to square his jaw and look away before his resolve could waver. The ringing of Wolf's phone thankfully interrupted the interrogation. The commander frowned at his phone then excused himself to take the call. He shut the door on his way out, locking Alex in with the two from MI6. Alex wished Wolf hadn't done that.

The three of them stayed in awkward uncomfortable silence. Every time Mrs. Jones wanted to say something, his father was there to glare her down in a challenging unflinching away that made Alex wonder if Mrs. Jones was indeed in charge.

Wolf returned not a second sooner, barging into the office with a meaningful look on his face that seemed to be aimed toward Alex. The man turned to Mrs. Jones. "Sebastien Morrison was found dead in his home. Murder."

"Sebastien Morrison?"

"The brother of Cross Morrison," John supplied grimly. "Who did it?"

"I don't know. They just found him. I'm heading to the scene."

Mrs. Jones halted him before he could leave. "Take Alex with you."

"That's—" John objected but she cut him off with a hand.

"Agent Rider and I need to have a talk." She drew out her words.

Alex debated whether or not he should refuse the order. But then, he didn't want to stay either. Besides, it was Sebastien Morrison. Fletcher was supposed to be there. Did…did Fletcher kill him? Alex didn't think so because Fletcher wasn't a killer. He just knew.

The car ride there was quiet besides the humming of the engine and when they pulled up at the scene, the officers lifted the tape for them to enter. Wolf was immediately met by an officer who told the commander that he called as soon as he recognized the victim was someone Wolf wanted them to pay extra attention to. The officers held Alex behind the tape until Wolf told them that Alex was with him almost hesitantly. It was as if, with the reveal of Alex's age, the man didn't know whether or not crime scenes were appropriate. Alex snorted; it wasn't as if it was his first dead body. The man had sent him to a body dump before.

"There was a struggle," said one of the officers when they entered the house and donned their gloves.

The signs of the struggle were area-specific. The coffee table neared the sofa was overturned and the teacups smashed but the sofa was untouched. Near the wall was a shelf whose contents were strewn across the floor beneath it. Alex could almost see the path the attacker and the victim took as they stumbled along, one offensive and one defensive. Sebastien's body laid atop a blood-soaked carpet by the overturned coffee table, a single bullet hole on his forehead, squarely between his wide fearful eyes. Alex looked away.

"Why don't you go outside and see if you can find anything?" Wolf said, walking by the body and noticing Alex's posture.

"What is there to find?" Alex frowned at the way he was treated. "Trampled flowers? Escape trail? Bread crumbs?"

Wolf grunted in annoyance and left him alone, bending down to take a closer look at the victim as if the cause of death wasn't clear enough already. Alex's feet took him to the small bedroom by the kitchen. It looked untouched by whatever had happened in the living room. Right on cue, his phone trembled in his pocket. Alex didn't recognize the number but he had a good guess just who it was and he was right.

"I found it," said Fletcher. "The USB."

"From Sebastien?"

"Yes. You were right to think of him."

"...Did you kill him?"

"How did you know he's dead?"

"Well." Alex cleared his throat. "I was staring at it a few minutes ago. Wolf took me to the scene after they found the body."

"I didn't kill him," Fletcher snorted. "He was more than willing to part way with the USB after I persuaded him. I was about to leave when one of the Scorpia agents caught up. He was the one who killed Morrison."

"And what happened to him?"

"Well, I shot him. You can find his body in the trunk in the bedroom if you're curious. I made sure the shot was clean." The nonchalant tone to Fletcher's voice was a little unnerving and Fletcher must've caught onto his silence because he then added. "It was me or him. There was never a choice."

Alex put his phone on hold and bent down to look beneath the bed. The path the trunk had taken had disturbed the dust pattern but it was only when Alex looked for it did he found it. He dragged out the large wooden trunk by the handle and unclasped the top by its large clip. Alex nearly jumped as a hand flopped uselessly back onto the dead body as if it had a mind of its own. Fletcher had taken the liberty to close the agent's dead eyes and, if not for the bullet hole still bleeding sluggishly from the neck, it was as if the man was just taking a nap inside a trunk underneath a dead man's bed. Alex shut the trunk quietly and was about to move it back under the bed when Wolf walked into the room.

"What's that?" the man demanded, moving next to him and move the trunk out of his hands. Whatever he was going to say died in his throat when Wolf's eyes landed on the body. "Who's this?"

"I don't know."

Wolf got up and grabbed a few officers back into the room. There was a clamor of surprise and dismay at the trunk and they soon took to inspecting and laying out the body. Alex barely had time to grab his phone before Wolf was dragging him outside, tossing away his glove, and asking him how the bloody hell did he find the dead body.

Alex coughed. "Fletcher."

"What?"

"Fletcher called me," Alex admitted.

Wolf's eyes sharpened in alarm. "What did he say? Why did he know?"

"He was here—but he didn't kill Sebastien; it was another Scorpia agent who caught up to him." Defending the assassin, Alex tried hard not to shy away from Wolf's narrowing glare. "Fletcher didn't kill him." He felt the need to repeat that for the benefit of Wolf's simple-mindedness.

"You don't know that."

"He told me."

"You can't trust him," Wolf shot back. "Next time he calls, you better let us know first."

John took him home after that, having seen them outside the house as he was pulling up at the crime scene. Wolf was still fuming and had told John that Alex was very disobedient and that Fletcher had called. His father didn't look too happy that Alex had gotten in touch with the assassin. But then again, his father hadn't looked happy since a very long time ago. Alex didn't think he could make the man happy again anyway.

They pulled up at their house. When they opened the creaking door, John coughed as he batted away the dust. "What happened here? Looks like dead people lived here."

His father wasn't very far from the truth. A thin sheet of dust had settled over everything and their entrance had kicked up a storm that danced underneath the light in the kitchen that John turned on. His fingers came back coated in dust that had covered the light switch. John brushed it away on his pants.

"What happened in here?" his father asked.

"I crashed at Tom's," Alex mumbled.

"What? Why?" John took a swipe at the kitchen table and tusked mockingly. "Did the heater break?"

"No, it's just…kinda too big by myself."

His father paused in what he was doing and turned to him, slowly throwing the tissue away as a look of understanding reached his eyes. He sighed wearily and sat down on the chair. A dust cloud puffed out.

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Alex shrugged. "I'm going to take a bath."

Eyes lighting up, John stood up and offered to cook but Alex stopped him; the refrigerator was empty and there was no point running out to grab groceries if John was just going to leave tomorrow again.

"I'm not leaving," John reassured him. "I'm here to stay, Al. This whole thing, it's almost over. I don't have to be away anymore."

"Whatever," said Alex again. When he turned and walked away, he felt awful. Alex could feel his father's eyes following his retreating figure in resignation. Alex had waited so long for his father to return and had risked so much in the process but the man he got back wasn't the man he lost. Alex didn't like it. He wished he could go back in time. There were some things he wanted to change and something he wanted to not do.

His phone rang just as he climbed upstairs. It was Fletcher again. "Meet me at the corner cafe."

When Alex arrived, Fletcher was already munching on a bagel and downing it with a cup of tea. The clouds had cleared up but the air still smelled of rain and damp dirt. Alex sat down in front of the assassin and stole a bagel off the plate.

Fletcher leaned in closer and slid a small box over the table. Alex took it and opened the lid. A small white scorpion rested atop the black USB. He closed the box and handed it back to Fletcher who had a small victorious smile on his face. "I've arranged a meeting with the boss tomorrow. I'll present him two choices but there's really only one he could choose if he doesn't want the whole organization after him."

"Please elaborate, your highness."

Fletcher pocketed the USB. "If he doesn't agree to hand over Scorpia to me, I will publish the information on the USB."

"The names? Are you sure that would be enough? Does he really to keep the list of names in secret that badly?"

"There's more than just names and addresses on there." The assassin shook his head. "It contains plans for past, ongoing and even potential operations. I didn't know the content before but now I do and there's no way the boss wouldn't want it back. If the information gets out, Scorpia will be destroyed."

"...You want to destroy Scorpia?"

Fletcher shot him a withering glance. "I don't but if he chooses to refuse my deal, I will do it. But I know he will accept it."

"What if he doesn't? What if Scorpia isn't all that important to him? You'd be doing this all for nothing."

"No, I'll destroy Scorpia if he refuses. If I cannot win, he will not either."

Alex sat back, a little surprised by the heat and conviction in the man's tone. It sounded almost personal. "Why do you want power so much? Do you really want to control and string along a bunch of assassins?"

"I have people I want to kill," Fletcher admitted without batting an eye. "And right now, I cannot kill them without going the boss. He will have me hunted down if I do. If I want the people dead without a hitch, he cannot have the power to order my death."

"...Who do you want to kill?" When Fletcher refused to tell him, Alex said, "maybe, whoever they are, you don't need to kill them. Aren't you okay with how you currently are?"

Fletcher frowned and looked at him, a little annoyed. "I don't know what you're trying to say but it sounds like you're trying to go against me. Is that what you're doing? Did MI6 tell you something incriminating against me?"

"No," Alex shot back. "I'm thinking about what's the best for you. What are you going to do with an army of assassins anyway? I don't think you know what kind of power that is."

"Do you?"

"I…"

"Alex," said Fletcher slowly. "I know what I'm doing. You just watch. If you don't believe it, why don't you come to the meeting with me tomorrow? I'll show you what it feels like when a plan comes together perfectly. Besides, it'd be good to get some experience."

"Experience?"

"Working as my second," Fletcher smiled. "You can work for me when I take the place as the head. You're good at what you do, although there are plenty of rooms for improvement."

"That sounds more like an insult than a compliment," Alex muttered. "I'm not an assassin and I don't intend to ever be one. I'm not a killer."

"You don't have to be a killer."

"I'm good. I'll pass."

Fletcher chugged the rest of his tea and the last piece of his bagel. He got up as he finished and turned to walk away. Hands pausing at the back of his metal chair, Fletcher turned back and regarded him again. "You should reconsider my offer. After tomorrow, you'd be forced to choose a side; Me, or them. It's already too late to get out."

"Who's 'them'?"

Fletcher didn't reply as he moved away. Alex's gaze followed him as far as he could until the people, once again, engulfed him as they did earlier when Eagle had taken him away. He waited another minute until he was sure that Fletcher wasn't near anymore before he got up, pushed his chair in slowly, and walked down the street to the grey van parked along the curb.

He pulled open the door and climbed in. Sitting down on the seat, Alex reached down his shirt and pulled out the wire. He passed it into Wolf's waiting hands. The commander set down his headset and tucked away the wire.

"Good work," Wolf said. "Your job's done here. You should go home."

"You promise you won't hurt him?" Alex asked stiffly.

Beside him, John settled a hand on his shoulder. "All we want is the USB and the current head of Scorpia if we can. As long as things go smoothly, nothing will happen to Fletcher."

It wasn't very reassuring.

John took him home after that.

From the first-floor window the three of them stood behind, Wolf could see clearly the scheduled meeting place between Fletcher and the head of Scorpia. Beside him, Agent Rider shifted his binoculars and leaned back, giving a quick nod to Snake who had lined the scope on his rifle on the pier.

"That Sparrow?" Snake asked.

Sparrow was the code name for Fletcher.

Wolf nodded as his scope settled on the lone figure standing by the small dock. It was a small secluded part of the dock that housed only a few fishermen's small boats. At high noon, the port was virtually cleared of civilians and devoid of any sign of movements besides the shimmering sea in the background. Fletcher must've chosen this place precisely because of its openness.

There were a total of four groups surrounding the dock, all hiding in buildings or behind natural barrels. It would be hard for anybody to spot them, just like how Mrs. Jones intended it to turn out. Mayford—Alex—made a deal with Mrs. Jones yesterday: he was willing to cooperate with them if she promised that they wouldn't harm Fletcher. Mayford knew that if he didn't, Mrs. Jones would try to get the USB out of Fletcher using whatever force necessary and ordering agents to torture the assassin wasn't far from her list. Agent Rider didn't like the way the deal came about but he subdued because the safety of his son clearly held more value than his conscience.

Agent Rider grabbed the radio by his shoulder and broadcast softly to the other agents. "As soon as the deal goes down, get out there and grab the target. If Sparrow runs, you are to do nothing. You will let him run. Do not shoot him."

Voices muttering 'copy' came back in groups and Agent Rider looked a little more satisfied. He settled back down, eyes on the binoculars. It was after a short while that their target, the head of Scorpia, came into view. Wolf supposed it was naive of them to believe that the man would show up alone but he didn't expect Yassen Gregorovich to be the man standing behind the head. Beside him, Agent Rider took a short breath in dismay. The audio feed they placed near the site began picking up voices.

Fletcher offered the man his deal: to turn over the organization to him or he would release the information he had on the USB. The threatening tone the assassin held seemed to have no effect on the head of Scorpia as he laughed, finding something funny that none of them did.

"Fletcher, you amuse me. Threats don't work if you don't have the resolve to go through with it so why don't you hand over the drive and we can go our separate ways? I'll even turn a blind eye to all the difficulties you have caused me."

"Are you sure I won't go through with my threat?" There was a hint of a smirk in Fletcher's tone.

"Oh, I'm not saying that you definitely don't." The boss shook his head. "What I'm saying is that dead men tell no tales. If you don't hand it over, Gregorovich will kill you. I'm sure you know Gregorovich. I was aware that you two used to work together."

As if making his point, Gregorovich leveled his gun at Fletcher without a hint of emotion on his face. Wolf couldn't see Fletcher's face well enough because he was mostly angled away from them but, from whatever parts he could see, Fletcher looked surprised. His body posture was taunt.

"Now give it to me."

"If you think I was stupid enough to carry it with me, you must be an even bigger fool. It will be uploaded in an hour; that is if I don't cancel it. There you have it. Now, make your decision."

"I can force it out of you."

"Ah yes, threaten to kill me. What good will that do? You know how good I am at—"

"Drop it."

The whole yard was suddenly engulfed by silence as a young voice made itself known. Agent Rider turned his binocular to the source so fast that Wolf was afraid he was going to smack himself with it. Wolf was guilty of doing the same.

"Why the fuck is he here?" Wolf whispered as his scope settled.

"I don't know. I told him to stay home." Agent Rider's hands were clenched around the binocular. "Where did he get that gun?"

Wolf had the faint suspicion that Mayford had taken it from the police precinct. But then, knowing Fletcher's hobby, the assassin could've given one to the kid as well. Wherever Mayford got the gun from, it wasn't important right now. What was important was the sturdy way he pointed it at Gregorovich and the utter lack of armor or anything on him. It looked like he had just run out of the house without much preparation.

"I'll kill him," Wolf growled.

Agent Rider looked torn between running out to grab Mayford and staying put and following the proper procedures. They couldn't risk going out there because who knew what Gregorovich or the target would do if another presence joined in. They didn't need more variables.

"Drop it," Mayford said again. This time, a little louder.

"Oh, look who joined," said the head of Scorpia, a little surprised but a little mocking at the same time. "Little Alex Rider. Very nice to see you."

Wolf didn't know how the man knew Mayford's identity but Agent Rider must've made some enemies in high places.

It happened in a brief second. None of them saw where he had kept it previously but the gun in the head of Scorpia's hand was unmistakably pointed in Mayford's direction. Agent Rider rushed up, only for Snake to pull him back down.

"Now it's your turn to choose, Fletcher," said the man. "The kid, or the USB. I'll give you ten seconds. After ten, his death will be on you."

Wolf counted the ten seconds. He was sure Agent Rider did as well. Fletcher didn't move nor did he utter a word. The assassin held the head of Scorpia's gaze and refused to choose.

"That bastard." Agent Rider gripped the scopes tightly.

"If we shoot the target and Gregorovich, we can—"

"No."

"No? Mayford's life is at stake here."

"I don't want any bloodshed."

Wolf abandoned his scope for a moment and turned to glance at Agent Rider as if he was out of his mind. "You don't want bloodshed? Things are already so far out that it'd be a miracle if nobody dies."

"Don't say that," Snake interjected.

They turned back to the situation. Nobody was moving and the ten seconds had long passed. It was as if the boss wasn't expecting Fletcher's response. But then, a refusal was a refusal.

"Gregorovich," said the head as he turned to the assassin by his side whose gun was still pointed at Fletcher. "Shoot the kid."

Wolf's finger itched toward the trigger but Yassen didn't move.

"Shoot the kid," the man repeated.

The tall assassin acted as if he didn't hear him, his gun still pointed at Fletcher. Fletcher glanced at Yassen. Wolf's eyes left his scope for a brief second, seeking out Agent Rider's because they couldn't continue this anymore. He needed to give the order to shoot the assassin or—

A shot rang out.