It was quite surreal seeing James Sprintz again. Alex had almost fond memories of Point Blanc due to the sharp tongue and quick wit of the German boy. The one time since crossing paths with MI6, he had actually made friends with someone his own age and stayed friends. His friendship with Sabina, well, that had all gone downhill so rapidly after Jack died. Edward being such a bastard was really just the icing on the cake. Alex had already been treated like a leper in their house. He taken to drinking heavily and taking drugs and they had not twigged he was only pretending to be coping, to be normal. He'd been existing in California. At James suggestion, he had tried to force an intervention to get help, only for Edward to take his openness as the last straw. James had breezed in and talked of the awful weather, dreadful traffic and the fact he had tried to track Alex down. Alex already knew that Dieter had offered a ransom, but he hadn't been abducted, not really. Yassen thought of it as a rescue and giving Alex choices. Only, he was again backed into a corner, when a rescue wasn't a rescue only a change of prison.
Jamie was talking of his dinner last night with his mother. Alex remembered the woman had lost custody after dating a heroin addict, one she had briefly married
Alex wished he had full use of his hands, wanting to touch the soft dark hair. "How's your dad, Jamie? Lost the stick up his arse?"
"He's a new man and has finally started to listen to me, though I have grown a bit of backbone recently. I made demands and the man listens and understands. Well, I threatened to walk out and cut off all contact with him when he didn't want me to come visit you."
Alex watched Jamies open face, emotions plain to see. Jamie had not changed. "You are over 18, you can do your own thing."
"Lexie, he's running scared over his bête noire, you know kidnapping. You were in a supposed secure environment at Baysdale and you disappear, not a trace until you turn up in Iraq of all places. I know, you were hanging with your SAS buds, but you got railroaded into a shit job with bastards who hurt you. I do not fancy the chances of that David. Your ex will want to hurt him for abandoning you."
"Its not like that, Yassen has worked for Mossad for years. He has to remain detached with his clients. It's not as if I'm ever going back into business with my Russian friends. My knee is fucked, so are my hands. Its going to take about a year of physio just to see if I can run again." Alex flexed his arms and went through his exercises to help with his limited range of motion. "Tell me why was it so important to visit a boy you only spoke to occasionally after our time together in Grenoble."
"Don't you get it, Lex.. You save my and my dad's lives. I only have a happy dysfunctional family because of you. I want to be here for you. Its payback or karma, whatever. I help you readjust, because you aren't assassin or spy material now. You are a long way from well and Dad wants you to get well too. Take things slow, do things for you. I hope your Yassen leaves you to get well."
Alex got that James was playing the tough love card. "Its pie in the sky... MI6 want me back under their thumb."
"Then we just have to ensure your independence from those people at Liverpool Street. We need a plan of action to out maneuver completely amoral sneeks."
Alex listened as his friend talked of the possibility of using Power of Attorney, either handed to James or Dieter. Alex smiled as the well thought out plan for pulling the rug out from under Crawley was proposed. "Talk to Dima.. Dimitri Stepankov... Ullysse Club in Paris. He holds my contract of employment, ownership whatever. He'll know just how to stay two or three steps ahead of Crawley and Jones."
"Are you any good at chess, Lex...?"
"I've been a pawn for too long, Jamie. Now I need to be the Chessmaster and play to a draw. There are no winners, just losers. Be thankful for a boring and happy life."
...
Alex had made some serious assumptions on his treatment options on leaving St. Dominic's in mid July, becoming a de facto foster son of Dieter Sprintz had not even been on the list. The German financier was moving mountains to keep his son happy and his education plans on track. Part of that package was repaying Alex for saving them both from Grief's abominable plan. So, after his final procedure at St. Dominic's Alex was transferred to the Dusseldorf to the man's home with a team of medical professionals on staff.
His own personal shadows were the team of Gunter and Magda, both nurses and Alex suspected either ex-Army or ex-spies as they kept tabs on Alex with ruthless efficiency. It was all relative anyway, Alex was still in need of regular physiotherapy to get back his fitness and range of movement. Two hours a day on a series of exercises to stengthen damaged joints and the fact his hands, leg and feet had been immobilized in plaster for weeks. The one blessing was being able to eat and drink and not be fed like a baby.
In Late September, James had left to start at college in the States. Alex was in two minds on wether to follow him or to go back to Paris, get an apartment and think of an alternative future as being an assassin for hire was out.
Dieter had been accused by his ex-wife of being a cold hearted bastard. Fear made men build walls around their hearts. He had been a fool in his assumption over James. A child is a gift and nearly loosing his son to that scheme to steal his legacy had driven home that money was nothing and James was more important than work or games played with markets. James had brought a stray into their home. He viewed the broken boy who existed in his home.
"Good morning, Alexander. Did you sleep well?"
Alex already knew the man had been informed that his charge had been up in the night twice by the ever present shadows. "Thank you for your concern. I slept OK, just cramps in my leg got me up twice." Alex looked at the healthy breakfast before him, but did not eat. "I have to thank you for your patience and generosity but I have outlived my welcome. I am a grown man and you and James have more than repaid any debt you thought you owed because of my actions in Grenoble. I need to start living my life again."
The fifty year old German put down his spoon, chewed and swallowed the muesli and yogurt and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin with small precise movements. "Are you planning on returning to Paris?"
The teenager looked stoic, he guessed this is what people expected of him. He was still in contact with Dimitri, only it was on an ex-employee, quasi-friend, as Alex was still classed as a medical fail for operations, both physically and mentally. He looked out of the window at the neat japanese style garden and high perimeter wall. "I was actually thinking of going to Assisi, to visit Brother Martin actually. On the train... you know I don't like planes very much. Then I was thinking of going to Naples to visit Jerry. I was thinking of improving my italian, maybe settling down."
Dieter had not expected that from this strange quiet boy, whom the psychologist described as obsessive about his kidnapper-rapist-lover. It sounded like Alex wanted to start afresh, searching for new goals. "I wish you would consider further education here, I could hire tutors or maybe you could go to Boston to be nearer James?"
Alex had considered staying in Germany but America was out, he knew he would be under scrutiny of Byrne's bosses at Langley. He lived in fear of being used to entrap Yassen. He had spent months talking over the events of the last year, only a year since he'd crossed paths with Cossack, who rescued him from Baysdale. He'd never corrected the Russian impression that the farm was a gulag. It for a short time had been more home than his stint with the Pleasure's had ever been. "No America holds no appeal, considering how my fostering in San Francisco failed. I may come back here after seeing Jerry. I just need to spread my wings a bit. I have options, I speak several languages really well, so I may work as a translator. Who knows? Martin will give me good advice, even if its just to sit back and let life flow around me for a while."
"Umm, go see the Franciscans. Talk to me before you go to Naples. Are you sure you wish to travel unaccompanied?"
"Just a young backpacker on my first holiday alone. I am being honest, I swear to God, Dieter. I am not looking to return to my old life, with Yassen and Dima. I can't... I freely admit I'm not strong enough for that. My health was broken in Iraq, I take each day as it comes, as a blessing as I know I have the luck of the devil to have survived that. As for James, I spoke to him before he left. He is under the impression I might seek seclusion with the friars. I doubt that myself. I want freedom, sunlight and good food. Seeing Martin once more is a good place to start, he is possibly the most together, sensible and utterly good person I have ever met, apart from James and yourself of course." Alex smiled genuinely, as he new Dieter hated flattery.
"You compare me to a man who has lived his life adhering to vows of humility, poverty and chastity. Whereas, my life is the complete opposite. So, you plan to live a simple, happy life, like this Jerry Harris?"
The blond haired young man nodded, "He only works for what he needs, working doing things he enjoys. Like Martin, a simple life but fulfilling. This is something I need to learn. No pain, no games, no hiding... I need to stop living behind masks and find the real me."
Dieter half smiled as the boy had for the first time openly admitted to his personality disorder. "I have a few requests. Keep talking, whether in group or individual therapy, keep up your exercises and take your medication. I will pay for doctors, therapist and your prescriptions if needed. Thats all I ask."
Alex had been certain the financier would have insisted on being accompanied, by a bodyguard as a minimum, but he was letting Alex go out and live, make mistakes and be an adult. He finally ate his breakfast. Pausing to add, "I will endeavour to keep fit, eat well and prosper. I will contact you, James or Gerald if I have any problems." He had money, he could afford to live for a few years without worrying about paying bills. One thing Alex knew for sure, that as soon as Yassen knew he was away from 24 hour security, he would see him again. That was one thing he was unsure of. Would Yasha want a broken lover? Was that too in the past? He needed closure or the hope of a different, less brutal relationship. Love alone was sometimes not enough.