Pawns and Players
Alternate titles-Never Say Dead, Surprises don't always come with confetti
Psalms 29:6:Evil people fall into their own traps; good people run the other way, glad to escape.
"Waiting. Like it or not, it's a skill all spies have to master eventually."-Ally Carter
February 8th
London
Royal and General Bank
08:27
Alex had a dilemma, he both loved and hated Miami.
"Could I go somewhere else for MI6? Maybe not go up against my fifth major ring this year?" Alex suggested. His senior agent/freelancer status (its complicated), gave him much more freedom, but favors owed are favors to be replayed.
"Alex, it's either America or Siberia, choose now." Jones said in a exasperated voice. If anyone was going to drive her mad, without a doubt it'd be Alex.
"America." Alex answered immediately.
"That's what I thought."
"It's a Rider's job to amuse their employer." Alex said cheekily. Jones rolled her eyes and shooed the blond out with a hand.
Alex sounded eerily similar to John and Ian right then, fortunately he was leaving tomorrow. Every time Alex or Tom got bored, the 'bank' would be on the receiving end of several pranks.
Jones pondered the similarities between the three Riders for a few seconds. They all used sarcasm liberally, had blond hair, and walked into traps with abandon. They all had a bad history of getting caught, but a (estimated) 99% chance of getting out alive with their objectives completed
Tulip's thought process then led her to contemplate the individualites.
John was more stoic yet much more understanding, Ian had somehow kept a normal(ish) moral compass while he simultaneously laughed at life, Alex played pranks (with K-Unit and Tom) whenever he got the chance and was always there at the drop of a hat to help those he cared for.
Their skill sets were different. They were all rounders, but preferred or specialized in specific jobs. One was the 'perfect' unattached double agent, one the 'perfect' silver tongued negotiator, and one was the 'perfect' blood hound investigator.
The woman looked at her desk, it was covered in files to be done before the weekend. With a sigh, Jones clicked her pen and got to work. Her signature got more sloppy by the month. Apparently there was a reason Blunt's always looked like the doodling of a four year old.
Royal and General Bank
08:29
'It's a Rider's job to help their boss.' Ian had said with a grin.
Alex smiled at the memory as he sprinted through the hallways. His movements were graceful enough to be a ballet dancer's yet seemed to be a mocking parody of a Lindy Hop. A single ear bud in Alex's ear played music from his phone.
The 'bank' was always a mess in the morning. The blond dodged the constantly changing lines of operatives and desk workers by centimeters.
Those that were not too busy called out a greeting, most of which were MI6 operatives. Some of the operatives had run into Alex on missions, training, or (rarely) on the streets of London.
"Hey, Rider!" A stocky Scotsman called.
"Tuschan, how are you?" Alex replied.
"I'm doing good, you?" Tuschan asked.
"I'm doing well." Alex turned his head to call back as the two drifted away from each other.
"That's good!" Tuschan replied.
Alex jumped in a small alcove of slowly moving people interspersed with the a few who 'weaved' through the traffic.
"Grenvich?" Alex asked.
"Yes, what?" The woman replied as she turned back to face him. Grenvich was a desk worker, but not a foolish one.
"Will you pass this along to Moneypenny for me? It's a item she asked for." Alex proposed, somewhat awkwardly. In his hand was a small rectangular package of unknown origin to the female. A hopeful smile on his face.
"Sure, Rider." The woman answered with a sigh. She was passing by Moneypenny on the way, might as well drop something off.
"Thank you." The blond said with relief. Alex would be taking most of the day prepping for his mission.
"Oi, Rider! Got a minute for some recruits?" A thick Cardiff accent called out. Afon Hughes stood next to three unfamiliar faces.
Alex pulled out his ear bud to devote his time to inspecting the newbies.
"Bryan Tillan." The brunette man held a pokerface. Alex had the annoying feeling that the rookie was trying not to smirk.
"I'm Daisy Hatherforth." The woman said somewhat hesitantly.
"Last but not least, I'm Philip Yaer. It's a pleasure to meet you." The non socially awkward agent said with a large smile.
At the grin, Alex got flashbacks of Tom, Eagle, and (their most recent prank) a mass of glue and glitter that covered a cabin floor(don't ask). It's best to be on a social butterfly's good side. Who knows, maybe Philip will turn out to be as much of a prankster and troublemaker as a teacher-information broker and SAS soldier. Better safe then sorry.
"It's nice to meet you as well." Alex replied, a smile and nod being the only acknowledgment given to the rookies.
"They're alright, still pillocks." Hughes said good-naturedly. Tillan suppressed an eye roll. Philip frowned, slightly affronted at the hazing. Daisy bit her lip and sheepishly smiled.
"Like we weren't at first?" Alex replied to Hughes with amusement.
"True, mate, true." Hughes conceded. "Anyways, Rider was the best agent MI6 ever had."
"Was?" Tillan asked, the rookies were quite confused. The title of 'Best agent' raised some questions, but it was the last part of the sentence that bothered the trio.
The general thought of the rookies being 'if he resigned, why is he still here?' Most agents die or retire (or fake their death), and so don't come back (a great relief for some).
"He's-" Hughes was cut off.
"MI6 offers me jobs every once in a while." Alex said, his tone warning the four agents that there would be no further discussion on his employment.
Hughes shrugged. "Moving on, any-And we're late for training. Gotta run, Rider. Have fun!" The Cardiff man sped off, with the newbies trying to keep up.
Alex chuckled at the sight, the trio were eating their instructor's dust (not that there was dust in the immaculate hallways). Hughes hadn't survived five years in MI6 and four in SAS on marksmanship and intelligence alone.
The joy of finally being able to handle deadly weapons. Fun for most boys.
And it was wonderful relief for Alex to be able to have a (knock out) gun to protect himself.
"Two silver laser pens, the green light burns things, the blue temporarily blinds." Alex nodded. The two lasers were safely tucked into a chest pocket.
Smithers took out a pair of what looked like regular aviator sunglasses. They were tinted a dark purple, not that that was unusual. Then came what looked to be a cheap grey watch.
"Night vision glasses and a 'flare' watch." Smithers revealed and handed them to Alex. "That'll be useful." Alex muttered. Fortunately MI6 now sent back up, although he needed that less when he was over eighteen years old and more when he was fourteen.
"Three bullet resistant button ups." Alex unfolded a light blue one and felt the material.
"At what point does it stop bullets?" Alex asked, the blond noted the word bullet 'resistant'.
"It doesn't, just slows them down. This, is what is going to make a bigger difference. High quality undershirt, specifically for protection of the heart." A thin light grey shirt was presented.
"It doesn't look like it'll do much more then the others." Alex said dryly.
"Hmm, I can always test it out on you with your gun." Smithers replied.
"And, never mind." Alex conceded with a sigh. The Irish man man failed to smother his laughter at the spy.
"Supposed hand cream, as requested." Still chuckling, Smithers took out a tube labeled 'Butter Hand Cream.' The advertisement read 'make your hands smoother then butter.
"Here's your usual phone, x-ray, radar, etc." It was a sleek silver phone accompanied by a white charger.
"Also, I'm giving you something very special. This is both one of my friend's greatest inventions and regrets."
"What does it do?"
"It's a exploding fountain pen." Alex quirked an eyebrow.
"Like the exploding gel pen?" Alex guessed. Since it had the words 'exploding' and 'pen' in it, there wasn't much else it could be similar to.
"Yes. Twist the cap 360 degrees to the right and then to the left. It is on a ten second countdown." Smithers said, air demonstrating the motions of turning the pen cap.
"Now...I have hope that you won't bring back all my gadgets like they had been crushed by a compactor."
"Well...not all of them, maybe one intact..."
"Alex." Smithers said as a official warning.
"Just being honest, my psychologist says it's good to do sometimes."
Smithers snorted.
Alex turned to walk away.
Smithers said something under his breath, quietly, so that only Alex and him could hear it.
"Don't die on me prematurely, Alex."
It was Alex's turn to snort. "Of course. Same goes for you dinosaur."
"Ho, I'm not that old Alex."
"Oh, really? Fooled me then." Alex shot back a smirk.
London
? Street
09:17
Alex's car was parked a block away from the Royal and General.
Alex turned a corner. Another teen, possibly Alex's age, was crossing the street on front of Alex. The teen wore a hoodie and sweat pants, and was somewhat hunched over in the 'rebellious teen" pose.
She turned and nearly fell over the bonnet of his car, which was crawling quietly along the street.
"Whoops." Alex commented sheepishly. The teen rolled her eyes at him, straightened up from her previously slouched posture, and walked over to the driver's side.
The blond pressed the button to roll down the window.
"So...Alex, is there a reason you almost ran me over?" The teen asked with some annoyance. Her accent (for now) was distinctly Canadian.
"Our families' luck?" Alex replied with a charming smile.
"Did you get a mission?" She asked after she rolled her eyes.
"Yes, I did, 'Lily Trever'." Alex said, he purposely used her fake name to see how she would react. 'Lily' merely shrugged and gestured for Alex to go on with his story.
"Tulip had me up against the wall with a really hard choice." Alex continued.
"Uh ha, what was the choice?" 'Lily' asked good naturedly.
"I had to choose...between America..." Alex trailed off, his poker face still on.
"And?" 'Lily' raised an eyebrow.
"And Siberia. Hardest choice I've had to make in a while." Alex said dramatically.
"Sod off. The hardest choice you had to make recently was which one of the Duke of Gloucester's champagne glasses was poisoned with wax." 'Lily' light punched Alex's shoulder with a grin.
"Yeah, and then all I had to distract eight people and make sure I drank out of the poisoned one." Alex said with mock light heartedness.
"You did need some practice being a social butterfly." 'Lily' commented with a smile.
Alex rolled his eyes. "But, I definitely didn't want more practice on figuring out antidotes to unknown poisons." Alex deadpanned. 'Lily' chuckled.
"You want a ride?" Alex offered. "Nah, I'm fine." 'Lily' shrugged. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm going the opposite way. See you around, Rider." She said and put her hands back into her pockets.
"See you around," Alex replied.
After 'Lily' disappeared from Alex's line of sight, Alex checked his pockets. The blond found the small piece of paper with a phone number on it. Alex raised an eyebrow. Hopefully, Tom wouldn't find out that Alex had accidentally run into his only female team mate and that said team mate had given Alex a phone number. And Alex hoped that Tom wouldn't immediately assume that the girl wanted to date Alex, but Tom would assume.
Alex had at least two weeks of Tom not bugging him to call, if Alex didn't mess up. Alex thanked God that he was going to be out of the country for the next few days.
London
Alex's flat
010:49
"I got that, and that. I'm going to need that..." Alex muttered to himself as he packed a grey and black back pack.
It was a nice apartment, in a alright neighborhood.
The bedroom had a two trusty knives under the pillow, an old desk with darts hidden between the books, a large closet with casual, formal, and knife resistant clothes, and a sniper rifle hid under the new colorful bed. It would take too long to mention all the various weapons and ammunition scattered under the removable floor boards.
A large soft Russian carpet covered the living room floor, on it were several comfortable chairs and a coffee table.
The main attraction inside the room was the shelves of souvenirs. Alex had decided to have always collect something to show for his missions after he turned sixteen.
There was a abnormally large tooth (from a billionaire's genetically engineered Bull Shark), a piece of twisted metal, a broken needle, and various other eyebrow raising objects.
The most curious one was leaned against the side of the shelf, it appeared to be an old table leg. The antique stick had odd scratches on it. It appeared almost like someone had used the wood to stop a large cat from clawing them in the face.
The cream tiled kitchen had several filled cabinets, a fridge, and a fake backing in the cabinets that was filled with weapons.
A pot of daffodils and white hyacinths grew outside the window. A small pillar had a unusual item on it, a pineapple.
The spy chose a new identity as he got out various passports, the name Rider raised too many flags. Alexander Faril seemed to be the best for this job.
Two large files sat on his table in front of Alex. After a deep breath to force himself to focus, Alex flipped to the summaries.
Mission En Prise
Objective:Track down a stolen gold chessboard
Sub objective:Gather intel on Lansy's operation
Operative:R****
Summary:A ivory chess set was stolen two years ago. The chess set has been sold around the black market for the past year. Lansy is rumored to be the current owner.
Summary of
M***** Lansy
Born July 4, ****
Height:152 cm
Personality:Charming and cunning.
Appearance:Older man, greying black hair, black eyes, square jaw, and large ears.
Habits:Commonly smokes and wears expensive suits.
Wanted by:Interpol, FBI, CIA, AISE, MI6, and several others.
Partner:Luciano Bridges (See page 35).
History:Jewish-Polish, American immigrant. Runs the Lansy smuggling gang in Southeast America. -
Notes:The FBI have been building a case against Lansy for twenty seven years.
Interrogations are commonly done by Lafitte (See page 89).
As of ****, suspected to live in Miami.
