In the morning, Alex woke to an empty room with a note of instructions from the doctor. He was finally free from his mostly-bedridden state but was under strict guidelines for movement and exercise.
Reveling in the good news, some fresh air seemed to be an order, even if it came with a now eight-person Danube detail.
He relayed this to one of the two guards posted on the inside of his door and the preparations were made as he showered and dressed.
Along his stroll, he noted individuals moving around more notably, moving in groups and not lingering as long as usual.
Malagosto was typically a safe place—well not safe in the normal sense of the term but certainly protected from the outside world of intelligence and terrorist organization. Perhaps d'Arc had remarked about recent events.
He could've ordered room service in his room but rounding the bend, the smell of food was far too enticing and nearby to pass up. Entering the cafeteria, he spotted a small gathering of students, and just beyond them, Shale and Ivey.
A weight settled on his shoulders recalling what Yassen had informed him those weeks ago.
In quick observation, the two were lightly bandaged but otherwise alright. With the students and teachers, they looked like an odd set; broody and unsocial. With Alex in his mindset, he would fit right in with the duo. Alex grabbed a tray of food and went to sit with them.
Sensing his movement, Shale picked his head up and spotted him first. "Alex, it's good to see you out and about."
"You too." He took a chair next to Ivey and started eating.
"We're set to take a few refresher courses while Marcus reviews applications. He'll be narrowing the candidates down but the final say will be yours."
Alex nodded but contemplated dismissing the remaining Sagitta unit.
They were paid well enough and could happily retire at this point. Plus, their life expectancies would skyrocket the further they removed themselves from him.
Classes must've started again because the cafeteria emptied except for their small group.
Alex looked between them and said flatly, "Blunt made this personal and I'll be the one to end it."
Ivey noted Alex's Yassen-like cold demeanor and nodded obediently in affirmation.
Shale darkly chuckled. "We'll escort you in. No worries there. He deserves to see what he created in action and there's no way in hell I'm not going to be there for it."
"Any further news regarding Sagitta?"
Shale answered, "We ultimately lost four in the collapse. The rest are healing."
"You should be resting too," Shale further admonished, trying the lighten the tone. "Oh, and happy birthday kid. With your shit luck, it's a relief to see you make it to 18. We should celebrate, there's too much gloom around here nowadays."
Alex saw what Shale was trying do but Alex could offer more than a forced smile. "Perhaps."
Several days later, Alex's enforced sedentary lifestyle had him climbing the walls. Adding insult to injury, care packages with only the healthiest food were delivered to his door again if he didn't handle his meals promptly enough.
Yassen had left on business, handling another matter abroad—leaving Danube with Alex—and opting to test a new team himself alongside the reformed Scorpus team. Alex had re-reviewed his security layout of the incident and recognized several Scorpus agents occupying roofs nearest where the sniper fired did not return to Malagosto and were removed from the register.
While he was aware that the synthetic earthquake had taken out a few members of Scorpus, it was too coincidental that so many had been listed as such. Especially in his line of work, there were no coincidences.
He knew what Scorpia was as an organization and what be required of his security detail. For an enemy to infiltrate them so easily was unacceptable.
He still didn't like it, but he understood it.
Answering the knock at the door, Alex opened it to find Commander Hill carrying another 'care package' and grumbled.
"Hey, sorry you got stuck with babysitting duties today."
Hill smirked at Alex's self admonishment. "You attract far too much trouble for it to be boring. Mr. Gregorovich was quite specific in his appointment."
"I suppose so, huh. Well, come in. I could use the company. I'm really sorry about that—" Hill brushed off his apology and stepped inside.
Alex locked the door behind him, motioning him to take a seat by the coffee table.
"I imagine you're here to pick my brain and report back to Yassen regarding my mental health so let's get this over with. Let's see, I'd rather be doing something other than bloody paperwork, I'd like to go out and do things to stop feeling my muscles near-atrophy, and I am craving a pizza instead of this crap," Alex said, plopping the bag on the table, extracting the bag of carrot sticks and biting into one with a derisive snap to prove his point.
Alex huffed but calmed down after his mini-rant. He supposed he may be too whiny right now but not only had Commander Hill seen Orion in action but he, like Sagitta, was there to watch Alex grow up these last few years.
He hardly needed to keep up appearances and for that, he was grateful Yassen specifically requested Hill to stop by though he suspected he wasn't yet forgiven for the escape attempt earlier in his healing.
Together they reviewed present affairs over the table jam-packed with high protein-, high nutrient-snacks. Hill apprised him of Yassen's directives regarding reciprocation of the incident and handling rebuilding Sagitta. Soon the afternoon flew by. Alex learned about selecting replacements in what had been such a solid team and Hill offered his condolences for the losses.
When the sun went down, he dismissed Hill and returned to reviewing briefings, paperwork, and his research into MI6 headquarters.
He could've delegated the research but he remembered a lot from personal experience that he wanted to handle it himself.
It was odd. Yassen hadn't discussed the matter since the night of Dr. Three's visit but hadn't acted upon the information yet either. He was waiting for something.
He thought back to Julia Rothman—how long Yassen waited for revenge—and recognized his own shortcomings. Alex would not be waiting 14 years for Blunt. He also was unsure of what to do with Blunt once he had him, however eager Dr. Three seemed to assist.
Could he do that? Could he kill for revenge?
Revenge against Blunt? Perhaps.
Something still unsettled him. Did Blunt obtain the information himself?
Likely not. Alex would need to know to remove that mole.
To amend his further internal questioning to include the line of thinking:
Would he be able to sit back and extract the information from Blunt?
Probably not, but he could still delegate the job.
Alex noted in the files that a certain 'Tulip Jones' no longer worked for MI6 and retired to the states. While her location was undisclosed, a girl sharing a significant percentage of her facial characteristics lived in Maine. A daughter perhaps? Or even a niece, he supposed. He internally filed the information away in case he couldn't get Blunt.
Another knock at his door interrupted further consideration of the matter.
He got to his feet slowly, feeling the ache in his midsection from sitting awkwardly typing on his laptop, and stretched his legs as he answered the door.
Marcus holding a pizza box stood in the doorway looking a little worse for wear but otherwise alright.
"Imagine my surprise getting orders to be a pizza delivery boy." Despite the mild insult to his station, he offered Alex a genuine smile.
Alex invited him in and they lounged around the coffee table. He did note Marcus's awkwardness to sit.
"How's the hip?"
"Healing too slowly for my tastes. At least I can honestly say I'd take a bullet for you. Though watching everything collapse in..." Marcus' face paled at the memory and voice trailed off but Alex knew what he meant.
Losing members of the team to a cave-in was bad enough but to be forced to watch it happen when there is nothing you can do? Inconceivable.
"Well, you always keep it interesting for us. No one could've anticipated them dropping a house on you. Not even the wicked witch survived that ordeal and yet you pop out of it like a daisy."
"Not without help," Alex said with dark humor.
Marcus shook his head. "You mean your team did their jobs? You pay us enough to put up with you. There has to be some return on investment on your end. Seeing you make it to your 18th birthday, well, it means I haven't done too shabby of a job..." Marcus voice cracked at the admission and trailed off again, looking past Alex.
After all the bravado and the dark jokes and sarcasm, Alex couldn't have imagined the almost choked up sound Marcus made toward the end.
"Hey, believe it or not, I qualify as an adult now."
"You? An adult? Never." Though the joke fell a little flat and the remaining few slices started getting cold, untouched.
They sat in silence for some time, lost in thought over last week's events.
"I was also sent to make sure you were resting." He took out and uncapped a syringe, likely some type of tranquilizer. "After all, they shoved us through all that extensive medical training in case you got a paper cut. It had to be good for something. Though I suppose they also thought you'd be more receptive to me offering this than your other doctors. How have you been sleeping?"
Alex looked at the syringe and shook his head. "I'm not getting as much sleep as I usually do but I'm sure the exhaustion will kick in sometime real soon."
Alex was tense and remembered in detail the sniper, the cave-in, and the Sagitta members who died protecting him. Sleep hadn't been easy.
"My orders were specifically to 'do as I saw fit' to ensure you are resting appropriately." Marcus said with a light, sympathetic smile.
"And if I say no?" Alex retorted, smartly. "As if you could take me on in your state, old man." Jokes and teasing were far safer than talks of mental health, coping, and the latest assassination attempt.
"I think that was the intent. You would be less likely to fight it if we were both injured...and perhaps you'd have enough guilt to comply without too much fuss." Alex couldn't dispute the logic. Yassen knew him too well.
He recalled with a startlingly clear amount of detail his last moments with Adams. A tear slipped out and down his cheek but Alex couldn't give up his attempt at passive dark jokes. "If he wanted me to sleep so bad, he could've just spiked the pizza."
Marcus missed nothing. He saw Alex's puffy eyes, how tired Alex looked...and remembered how young he was too. Even an eighteen year old was barely an adult. Most eighteen year olds he knew mooched off their parents until their mid-twenties. Alex at fourteen had been taught to survive more than the occasional trip to the tracery store.
Alex shifted under the man's gaze, lounging out of the couch, before eating another piece of pizza. Marcus envied his ease because he'd sure he'd get heartburn for doing the same but moreover, the action only further blared how young Alex truly was.
"How are you, Alex, truly?"
"Managing."
Marcus seemed dissatisfied with his answer. "How are you really?"
Silence.
"That's what I thought."
He shifted the sedative on the table closer to Alex and stood to leave.
"We will get the bastard, but we need you back at your best. It's your choice."
Alex looked up at him and nodded. Barely breaking eye contact, Alex picked up the syringe and injected the contents into his arm. "There. Happy?" Though the effects were almost immediate and Alex muscles relaxed, enjoying the feel of the soft couch cushions. Reclined on the couch with his legs now one or two inches too long for the couch dangling over the armrest.
Marcus considered helping Alex back into bed but, considering it's untouched state, could be content that Alex had at least some rest even though it was on a couch.
Still, he pulled the blanket off the bed and settled it over Alex. He seen Alex's file—practically memorized it by now—and could help but think of his nephew half a world away.
If his nephew had been conscripted into his line of work at such a young age, he would surely have enjoyed gutting the handler.
He would enjoy ensuring Blunt would get a similar, bitter end.
He left and secured the door behind him.