A/N: Happy Monday, everyone!
Monday afternoon found Mrs. Jones seated at one of MI6's large conference tables, surrounded by legal and operational consultants. Lunch had been served mid-meeting in order to maximize time already spent away from other priority projects, and the scattered plates half full of pasta salads and sandwich crumbs seemed almost funny in juxtaposition with all the serious faces surrounding them. Men and women in crisp suits, all eyes focused on the large screen at the opposite end of the table. Strategizing hadn't gone particularly well; Jones was well aware that her insistence on obtaining Alex was the main snag.
Maintaining her composure was more challenging than she'd anticipated. The short phone call she'd stepped out to take while the others had begun eating had steeled her resolve as much as it had rattled her.
Her school evaluations were to be suspended indefinitely.
Officially, there simply was no indication the Rothman's nanobots had done anything beyond the anticipated, nor posed a future risk in what trace amounts they remained in the school aged population. The expense and inconvenience was no longer justifiable, at least, according to the Prime Minister's secretary.
Unofficially, the charges Alex had brought against the agency had called attention to every instance in which MI6 appeared on any form related to minors. Making any related requests would be more than pointless; they would open herself up to even more internal scrutiny.
There wouldn't be another schoolboy recruit.
Her enemies drew ever closer. As the head of the country's chief spy agency, she was hardly ill-equipped to blackmail her various competitors into silence, though she doubted it would hold them forever and then she would likely be out of moves. Favors and resources were finite by definition. The risk to herself was significant and there would be no point unless Nightshade went down with her.
Florian's window was closing.
Alex was the only remaining option. There were no longer any other, less ideal candidates to choose from should she fail to retrieve him before he aged.
Jones clasped her hands together in front of her, pushing aside a stray napkin once she was certain her voice . "And their response?"
"We've made our requests," Pearson informed her, sliding a stylus across her tablet's screen and consulting the readout for new updates. "While the Russian government has admitted he's under their protection and that they are legally obligated to give us supervised access to Rider, they're likely going to stall for at least another few weeks. So far, they've cited school work and medical treatment as his top priority and have made a decent case that it is in his best interest to delay."
Jones couldn't quite suppress her wince. It might be too much to pray that they weren't giving him steroid therapy to speed him through his missed growth. Yet. "Very well. Hollis, what do we have in terms of proving Alex's mental instability?"
The man cleared his throat. "Fairly little at this time. While we might be able to suggest that he's a drug addict based off of the pharmacy footage, we currently have no significant evidence beyond that given our...limitations. Using any of our existing documentation would prove that not only was MI6 involved in his medical care, but that he was being held in some sort of secret facility."
Jones shook her head. "Surely we can sneak some of it into his file. Rebrand it as legitimate. Where do we stand on manufacturing documentation that Alex was in a mental hospital instead of a prison?"
Hollis's second in command, O'Brien, glanced once at his boss for permission to take the lead and tapped his own tablet. The large conference screen filled with the image of a sunny white building, made up in stucco and brick and surrounded by lush landscaping. "As most of you know, the level of scrutiny this video will face is extremely high, so our parameters are to leave the footage wholly unaltered. Thus, we selected a private mental asylum in Gibraltar close to the prison itself that's close enough of a match that it can support our counter narrative. Our hope was that any identifiable foliage or other environmental qualities in the prison's video evidence would line up perfectly. Additionally, it's quite an upscale establishment, meaning that the decor and patient amenities are quite similar, should they be visible in the background. While it may take some time to massage their records and do some necessary renovations to match the footage exactly, we've been unable to start as we've run into an unexpected problem with the recordings."
She narrowed her eyes at him. This was the first she was hearing of it. "Has it been hacked or contaminated?"
"Not at all. But thanks to the warden's unauthorized deal with Gregorovich-" and here the man thinned his lips. "-we just don't have much workable footage that proves that Alex was hallucinating and unstable. At least, we don't have any that doesn't involve the assassin's quick intervention. The three biggest fits we did capture, in which he was not directly responsible for restraining the boy, either have Gregorovitch visible in the foreground or present... other issues."
She didn't so much as blink. "What other issues?"
The screen changed abruptly, showing a reasonably high quality video recording of Alex, surrounded by security guards as he leaped onto a bookshelf. It crashed to the floor, sending books scattering across the carpet as the guards quickly pinned him, struggling to administer an injection. Gregorovitch carefully stepped to the side, watching the scene without expression.
"Armed guards aren't exactly common in mental hospitals. Not even high security wards," O'Brien pointed out. "Nor are the obviously military-esque uniforms. Nor are the methods these untrained staff members used to restrain him consistent with medical care-"
"-which can also be used to challenge his expectation of safety should he be returned," West added from across the table. "Using this footage would be a gift to his case more than anything."
Jones grimaced. "So find footage of him having non-violent, but noticeable fits that didn't require any intervention. He didn't always get violent, even if his behavior was unsettling or erratic. My files indicate that there should be dozens to choose from."
"That's true, but again, the warden's deal meant that Alex was almost always with Gregorovich while on prison grounds. We can't find any instance of any such fits where the man didn't at least go over to check on him, even if he wasn't in the initial few frames. Since Alex was on heavy tranquilizers, the few fits noticeable enough to prove instability and which lack Gregorovitch all took place inside his bedroom.
"The snag there is that since the prison has several different surveillance types available to them, certain privacy considerations are observed and bedrooms are monitored with audio and infrared." O'Brien pulled up a series of still images obviously pulled from video files to make his point. The first being an actual example of an infrared figure laying on a bed. "Which, again, will be heavily scrutinized if we present this in court. Why would a treatment center use military grade infrared and not a camera? Why would a private treatment facility have observed his room in the first place if the fits we can show them display little provocation of violence to himself or others? In the context of an institution like this, they would be considered relatively harmless and this would be a huge privacy violation of a child without proper cause. If he was so violent it was deemed necessary, why wasn't he restrained or assigned a full time staff member that we can see in the other footage? There are too many stray pieces. What we have found that might work is only ever partially usable and would be difficult to alter without obvious signs."
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Mrs. Jones pressed her lips together, thinking rapidly. "Very well. We include Gregorovitch in our story, then. Say he was another patient or perhaps even a staff member assigned to him. Then we can use the footage of Alex's violent fits outside of his room."
O'Brien shook his head. "We thought of that. West and I got halfway through crafting a possible legal narrative where Alex is a mentally ill boy with delusions of being an abused super spy while Gregorovich is a psychiatric tech who sold the boy as a pawn to the Russians to embarrass us with an invented scandal. As hard as we tried to put together a collection of footage, there were always more unexpected problems trying to cast him as a staff member. Gregorovich never wore anything remotely like a uniform. Armed guards often came to check on them both, to which the contract killer was clearly deferring to or at the mercy of. He makes even less sense as a fellow patient. Why was he allowed to restrain Alex? Why did no psychiatric nurses intervene or at least check on the kid the entire time he was there?"
Hollis nodded, face grim. He turned to Jones and tapped his hand on the table. "This doesn't even touch on another issue. Not only will the evidence we present be scrutinized, but the evidence we don't provide will be questioned. If we offer footage of Alex having fits and insist he was a patient in Gibraltar for at least a month, then why isn't there more footage of him doing mundane activities? There should be hours of him sitting on benches in the library or participating in arts and crafts, for god's sake. Even if we say the clips we've sent are the most relevant, all the Russians would have to do is request the right to sift through the rest of the footage for their own investigation. A private mental hospital is not classified or unusually protected, even if other patients are protected by privacy law. Someone in the international courts would have to be granted special access to the footage for review or it will look incredibly suspicious."
"I see." Mrs. Jones dragged in a slow breath and picked up her pen. "West? Have you researched the viability of challenging custody without concern for his mental stability?"
The man shook his head. "I'd not recommend it. Even if we could bring one of his parents back from the grave, his last formal guardian was an American woman murdered by terrorists in Egypt under severely questionable circumstances. Previous to that, it was this bank." West tapped his pen against the desk, eyes focusing on some distant corner of his mind. "Unless we change every record, we'll make his abuse case for him. I'm almost certain we won't be able to alter them all without getting caught, not at this stage. Not with the level of attention that's already been drawn."
Jones clasped her hands together. "In that case, I'd like your thoughts overall, please."
Shifting in his chair, West crossed his arms. "The way I see this, our first move should be to try and nip this in the bud. Ideally, we'd find a way to persuade the kid to stop supporting the charges. Tying Smithers to the Russians will be difficult, but it's possible to make them appear to be colluding to present false charges. Without the kid, it gets easier. Not easy; just easier."
"What would be the biggest issue facing us in that endeavor?"
West shrugged helplessly. "We have no leverage against the kid and he has a whole lot of motivation to see us go down in flames. With him being so hard to get to, it's difficult to create any ourselves or communicate our threats to him discreetly, but it's not impossible. I can't fathom it being worth the risk."
The last thing they needed was being caught blackmailing him again. She sighed. "Our other options, then."
West nodded heavily. "Disappearing Alex would be a decent way to go. Smithers' case would still move forward against us, but it would be a lot more challenging to prove urgency. Everything would slow down, even if we were suspected of making it happen. We'd have plenty of time to appeal and come up with a defense. It would still be difficult given the overwhelming amount of evidence, but it would be a better problem for us to have."
"Are you suggesting a snatch and grab?"
West shrugged. "That's one way to go, but I don't doubt the Russians have plenty of eyes on this kid. Gregorovich certainly will go out of his way to make it difficult for us. His protected status in Russia likely depends on it, to some extent. Even if we knew where Alex is, it would only do us so much good."
She nodded. "So we prove that he is in danger and have him taken into another country's custody where he will be easier to get to."
"That would be the best way to accomplish that. There is little reason to have him moved otherwise."
"What do we have towards those ends?"
"Very little. Again, we can loosely suggest Gregorovitch stole two cars in America. But even if we could prove it without a doubt, non-violent grand theft auto won't sway a judge if Alex is happy and clearly well cared for. My people say there's a ninety-something percent chance Gregorovitch committed other violent crimes, even if we haven't tied him to them yet. The white noise files are undoubtedly instances of those."
Jones grimaced. She'd gotten her email update this morning. "Assume those won't be coming through any time soon. What else can we do?"
"In our meeting with Alex, we can try to get him to indicate some kind of abuse." West glanced at Pearson, who gestured to him to continue. All members of the current teams had consulted with one another already, and this meeting mostly served to get them all on the same page while bringing the head of MI6 up to speed on their conclusions. "We've already considered the options. Emotional abuse is hard to prove without recorded conversations or professional testimony, neither of which we have access to. Physical abuse is unlikely, though he shows signs of physical discomfort. All of them can be attributed to his medication withdrawals and poor health. Easy to dispute. We'll have to wait for the results of whatever physical exams have been performed to see if we can use anything to our advantage, but the odds aren't great. Our current favorite is trying to make a case for sexual abuse. It's serious in nature, doesn't necessarily leave physical signs, and even just the accusation is often enough to make a judge nervous."
Pearson broke in, nodding. "This does require we get access in the next month. He'll be sixteen soon and technically able to consent. We need Alex to say something that can be interpreted as sexual abuse while he's underage. Something that places it definitively when he is fifteen or under. If the timeline is unclear, it will likely be ignored by the courts if it appears consensual."
Jones waved a hand. "Do we have a list of questions prepared?"
"I drew one up," Pearson assured her, putting it up on the screen. "As suggestive as possible while skirting the legal definition of leading. Even if we are penalized for steering him towards it, we still might be able to force Alex to be relocated out of concern for his well being. With the storm of publicity this case will inevitably create if it makes it through the investigation phase, no one involved is going to want to take the risk of mishandling his case."
West nodded. "The optics never look good when a kid is involved and action tends to be fast. In this case, hopefully fast enough for no one to notice that despite Gregorovitch's… extensive list of charges-" West flicked a hand at his tablet's screen, eyebrows raised as he scrolled through them for confirmation. It took a good couple of seconds. "-none of them involve any sex crimes. Everything but, essentially. We might be able to tangentially link him to sex traffickers through Scorpia, but so far as we know about him personally, he could be a monk with a vow of chastity. We can't even place him at a suburban strip club, much less find anything to suggest he's a homosexual pedophile. Alex has to say something convincing or we have no case. I'd say we ask the most leading questions we've got and deal with the consequences later."
Mrs. Jones nodded. "It sounds like our best option. Make it happen. I-"
West cut her off. "Just to be clear," he said, voice slow and cautious. A few glances were shared across the table. "This is the best option only if we need to have Alex in our reach. The far, far safer approach would be to deny everything. Deny Alex is who he says, deny that he's even British, deny that we know anything about him at all. He's half erased already, we only need to finish the job. Insist he's some crazy child the Russians have prepared and trotted out like a show pony. Witnesses can be silenced inside of our own borders; while neighbors and teachers will remember him, none were close enough to him to risk testifying if we approach them first. Denial is the easiest position to defend and the most likely to succeed in protecting the agency."
She leveled a calm, thin look at him before distributing it around the table. Cautious, rigid faces met hers. While part of her would love nothing more than to tell him her reasons were highly classified just to shut down their insistent dissent, the fact of the matter was that everyone in this room had some of the highest clearances possible; certainly high enough that trusting them with knowledge of the secret prison had been on the table once the breakout happened. Anything higher than that would implicate only herself, the prime minister, and key members of parliament.
Too much digging would be problematic.
It was painfully ironic, but far better for them to believe her approach was a personal failing of leadership. "Be that as it may, we will be proceeding with the plan to have Alex moved into favorable custody. Focus on preparing for the interview and finding a way to fast track it before his birthday. Otherwise, decrypting those video files is priority number two. I want-"
A sharp rap on the door sounded, cutting her off. Crawley stepped in immediately without waiting, saved for only a specific set of protocol. "Ma'am."
"What is it?" she asked, chest clenching with wild hope.
"We've located Alex Rider. He's in Moscow."
