Having spent 10 days in the America, Sasha and Jamie went their separate ways, both returning home to visit their fathers. Four days at home and Alex got to open his exam results. Over those days Ola had watched her brother and was worried. That night there had been a celebration dinner was for family, though Dima and Kolya were absent at Officer Training. Tasha had gone home after Papa fell asleep in his chair, relaxed and replete. Ola wandered into the communal yard, where Sasha was enjoying the breeze. She had brought him a cup of coffee. In one gulp the liquid was gone and the dregs handed to her for a reading.

The grounds told her nothing she had not already surmised, the young man was troubled. She stared at the dark sludge and asked "Who is this man from your past robbing you of your sleep and stealing the joy in your heart?" Ola knew someone from his past had been in contact, someone who cast a long shadow. Repercussions from past horrors, affecting him where he was safe, though he was hiding it well. The confrontation with his past abusers had not gone as hoped, something was off. Something had happened in California.

"I have spoken to father about him, before. When I was fourteen, I crossed paths with a man who really knew my birth father. This person was Russian born. It's very complicated. He was kind of stalking me in LA and I confronted him. It has thrown a spanner in my carefully laid out life plan and I wish he had stayed in the past, just in my nightmares." Alex sighed and looked up as the darkening sky revealed the first stars. "Yasha was a killer for hire, after he lost everything including his identity at fourteen." Another pause, "So, he killed Ian. He should have killed me, but murdered Herod Sayle instead. Hence the nightmares. The complicated bit was that John Rider was his mentor and taught him to kill, to main and to torture; like my birth father, he was very good at it. In another life, if you had not protected me, I might have ended up like him. Just following orders and lost. Not that he does that anymore, I guess I was the catalyst for him to get out." Alex wipes the moisture from his face with his hands.

It had not been the fleeting crossing of paths as Ola assumed. They had talked. He had been civil to Tulip Jones, but he had been far more open and kind to the man who had been Cossack and he had could empathise with their similarities and how close he had come to following that man's path. They were not enemies, not family, but not strangers either. Connected and separated by fate, that was the bond between them. Alex knew that Yassen had just been checking up on him and would probably continue to aware of everything in his life even if they never met again

...

Life in America had changed Cossack. He impersonated the average American Joe and their habits well. No one in Credence would have guessed a contract killer lived, worked and prayed amongst them. His hair was longer, now more white than blond. He had grown a beard, which he kept neatly trimmed. A plastic surgeon had sculpted his nose and chin with the cover of facial injuries following a car crash as a teenager. He also had an orthodontist's perfect smile after opting for veneers as well. Jan Koroliev had owned a Auto repair and maintenance shop and was a skilled mechanic. He was a part time fireman in a small town in Oregon adapting to his cover arranged by the CIA. The legend was as the orphaned child of Russian immigrants, his identity borrowed from a dead hobo. He attended poker nights with fellow fire crew, has been on dates, he had made friends. In the past year he had dated and was engaged to a divorced nurse and by next spring he would be the stepfather to her three teenager children. He worked hard to fit in. Careful to appear average, even when hunting with his friends.

He had a computer with a hidden folder for all press reports and gossip on the young son of Boris Kiriyenko. The ex assassin had kept abreast of hacking and had an alert on Aleksandr Kiriyenko, who was flying into LA next week. Common sense was to forget everything about his past. Little Alex had escaped his master's, been adopted, gone back to finish school and had left the world of death and lies behind. Yet, Yassen knew just how ruthless Boris and his fellows in the Politburo were. Had Hunter's son been brainwashed, was he now an asset of Russian State Security? Was he happy? Had his time as a spy damaged him? Cossack's funds were still there hidden as a backup. He had days of vacation time accrued as he had only planned to take time off for his marriage and honeymoon at a Golf Resort in Florida.

His one momento from his life before was a single photo of Hunter. He could pass Alex off as a cousin and check he was fine and come back here. He emailed Lou, a mechanic who worked for him part time, who would cover for him, as he took a few days off to go hiking. Luckily his contact with the CIA was in Portland on the other side of the state. He was not due to check in for another ten days. He had a car and change of identity to use for his trip south. He bet Alex would be visiting Cassian James.

...

Yassen had undertaken many stakeouts. He was just another tourist and driving around LA. Young Alex meeting with not just one school friend but five. James Sprintz and Hugo Vries had arrived on the same flight. Cassian James lived in LA but Joe Canterbury, Tom McMorin and Paul Roscoe were also visiting. The only alumni from Point Blanc missing was Dimitry Ivanov, who was at officer training for Russian State Security. Cassian, Paul and Tom met the arrivals at the airport, Joe Canterbury arriving first and in uniform from Hawaii, then they all waited for the flight from London. The group acting protective of their hero and the youngest.

The limo was followed to a house in Topanga Canyon, with three staff and basic security. Yassen did his own perimeter check and found a decent lookout point and set up camp. His car parked just off a popular hiking trail.

...

At three AM everyone was asleep, except Alex. It was not jet lag keeping him awake. He had noticed the shadow in the airport and the car following them off the freeway and up to their designation. He pulled loose sweats and his running shoes at dawn and to run along the canyon. Joe stepped of his room to join Alex. "I noticed the SUV tailing us, yesterday. Let's see if it's parked close by. It might be a PI, my dad is a dick about getting me followed. Makes restraining orders useless when your creepy parents pay someone to do their stalking. Hence this is the first time I've been off base in a while."

Alex doubted General Canterbury could afford the guy he recognised at the airport. Then again, Cossack might just be keeping tabs not working. "Heads up, if it's who I think it is, he's not a guy you confront. I think he just wants to talk."

"Who is it? Another agency guy?"

"No. Freelance, though probably retired. Knew my birth father. Told me to get out of the game. He will be happy when I reassure him I'm completely burned. Though I'm not surprised he knows who I am now. If we find him, you stay back. If it looks dodgy, get help. I don't think it will. Yassen was the only guy I crossed paths with when with MI6 who wanted me to have a childhood."

Joe nodded, in business mode and letting the ex spy take the lead, "I have your six, Sasha."

The car was easy to spot as it was too early for tourists or day trippers. The pair ran along the trail for 500m, Alex knew the house was just over the ridge. Hand signals were used, as Joe took cover to act as backup. Alex then started to scout out lookout points and any campers. He also knew, that from this vantage point, the pair leaving on their run will have been observed. Careful to be silent and fully aware of his surroundings, he jumped out of skin when a soft whisper in his right ear "Good Morning, Sasha."