Chapter 3: Curiosity Killed the… Car?
LOCATION: LONDON, ENGLAND
Smart. Well dressed. Short nails. Bites them, anxious perhaps, or stressful work environment? Greasy hairline. Wedding ring. Wonky teeth...oh, he's looking.
Alex ducks his head away, his body swaying back and forth with the motion of the underground carriage; the man he was studying glances at him, then back at the floor, a morose look upon his thin face. Alex is playing a deduction game on the tube, making his way from South Kensington to Liverpool Street; his stomach is a wild, wriggling mass of dread and anxious worms, his mouth pulled down at the corners in grim determination. He has no idea what MI6 want with him now, but he's too curious not to find out. Goddamnit, curiosity always killed the cat and has nearly killed him more times than he can count. The train whines and screams through the pitch blackness of the tunnel, wheels clicking and clunking on their metal rails, the occupants swaying in tense silence. Nobody talks on the tube. Nobody looks at one another. It's like some weird, unspoken rule. However, there's no rule against secretly studying people near you during the journeys. Alex likes to practise his observation skills regularly, and this is a good place to do it.
He waits for the man to turn around again before deducing again. There is a discoloration on his left dress shoe. Kids, maybe? A dog? Alex wonders what people on the tube would think of him. Whenever he took public transportation, which wasn't often, due to Mrs. Jones's and Jack's constant lecturing about its safety, he tried to be a discreet and unreadable as possible. Despite his beliefs that the lectures are superfluous, as he is Alex Rider, after all, he doesn't want to be accidentally recognized. That would be a nightmare. Alex is so busy imagining dodging assassins on the train, that he almost misses his stop and has to dive out the doors.
He lands in a heap on the floor, grateful that he wasn't carrying anything heavy enough to crush him. He stands up slowly, brushing himself off. There was dirt and, for some reason, gravel in his hair and on his once pristine clothes. Sorry, Jack, he internally apologizes about his now dirty outfit of washed-out jeans and a black Adidas hoodie and curses his lack of awareness.
"You good, Bruv?" someone asks him. Alex looks up. It's another boy about his age. He's taller than Alex, with dark brown hair and bland brown eyes filled with concern.
"Yeah, I'm good," Alex says, now noticing his suspiciously large backpack.
"I'm Aldous," the taller boy introduces himself.
"Alex," Alex replies, just as vague.
"What the hell was that?" Aldous questions, referring to Alex's casual dive out of the train.
"T'wasn't paying attention," Alex admits smoothly, "Guess I got caught in my train of thought."
Aldous snickers. "You're funny. I like you. C'mon, mate, follow me. I need your help with something."
Following this strange teenager out of the tube station went against every fiber of Alex's being. It was probably a death trap. Aldous seems awfully shifty. Alex or some other unlucky soul would probably end up dead. But then again…
"Alright. Where are we going?" Alex questioned, following the boy. He knows he will be late to Jones's meeting. He also knows that he doesn't give a flying fuck.
When the two teenagers had finally reached the sunlight, they turned in the opposite direction of the Royal and General. Whatever crime they were probably going to commit, at least it wouldn't be against the government agency that he "works" for. All Jones needs is more dirt on him.
"So," Aldous begins, "How much do you value the law?"
"Excuse me?" Alex asks, confused.
"Would you say," Aldous draws the sentence out, "That it's okay to break laws? Y'know, when the circumstance is right?"
"What're we going to do, murder someone?" Alex chuckles, on edge. While he appears cool and collected on the outside, he was instantly suspicious.
"No, Bruv, nothing like that," Aldous assures him, "Though I rather like that your mind goes straight to murder when I discuss breaking the law."
Alex laughs, and this time it's genuine: "Who hasn't broken a couple of laws?" He asks, internally cackling at how extreme his 'couple' of broken laws were.
"Boring, boring people," Aldous assures him.
"So, what laws are we breaking, anyway?" Alex wonders, preparing himself.
"Property damage; vandalism, probably; something about explosives-Oh! Is it a crime to break into other people's cars and drive them out of danger?"
"Most likely," Alex laughs.
"Great. Anyways, we need to blow up this prick's car. Not with him in it. We don't want to hurt anyone, just his precious car. He fucked my girl", Aldous clarifies.
"We're vigilantes, then," Alex realizes, for some reason much more comfortable with the situation.
"That's it, Bruv! So, can you break into cars?"
"Hell yes," Alex says, remembering his eleventh birthday when Ian had taught him.
"Great. You move any surrounding cars-we don't want to punish anyone else-and I'll rig the explosives." Alex nods, and they walk the last three blocks in silence.
When they arrive, in the parking lot of, ironically, another bank, the two self-declared vigilantes begin enacting their grand plan. Alex breaks into the surrounding seven cars, while Aldous begins rigging the car-of-interest with a very obviously homemade bomb.
When Alex finishes, he walks over to Aldous, who is standing over the car he had wired. It was an Audi A3.
"It's a real shame we have to hurt his car. It's a real beauty," Aldous reflects, stroking its hood.
"He probably screwed your girl in it," Alex adds helpfully, "It's exactly the type of car a small-dicked prick would have. To boost his ego, Y'know."
Aldous laughs and punches Alex in the shoulder. "You're a good mate. C'mon, I'll set the timer for sixty seconds, and then we run like hell."
A minute later, the two teenagers are 10 meters away, using the corner of the bank as a cover, and watching the Audi blow up. It's a much bigger explosion than either one expected, and a piece of burning car singes Alex's bangs and burns a hole in Aldous's shirt. Neither of the two care, however, as they are laughing so hard that tears are streaming down their faces.
"His car!" Aldous exclaims, choking on his laughter, "It just got fucking demolished! The bitch just blew the fuck up!"
Alex, head in his hands, his eyes blurred with tears formed out of laughter returns "Don't call the car a bitch, she never hurt anyone!" with mock-horror. Aldous is about to respond when sirens ring out. "RUN!" Alex yells, and the two of them duck into the nearest alleyway. They sprint until they get to the Royal and General, where, luckily, the sirens are nowhere to be heard. "This is me," Alex explains, "Bye, Aldous, I had fun today."
"Any time, Bruv," Aldous pants, still not recovered from their sprint, "Here, catch," he says, tossing his phone to Alex. "Put your number in. I'll text you next time I need to commit a crime."
"Right on," Alex replies, punching in his number, "See you around." The partners-in-crime nod goodbye, and go their separate ways.
When Alex walks into the Royal and General Bank, careful to mind the sidewalk discoloration where he got shot and is suddenly very self-conscious. With his soot-covered outfit and singed bangs, he is laughably out of place at a high-end bank. Nervous that someone will think he's a terrorist and call the police, he moves quickly to the security guard, who takes him to Jones' office, thankfully without questioning his unusual appearance.
He takes a deep breath, nervous for the first time about whatever the fuck Jones thought 'Coming of Age' was. Another mission, probably. The thought gives Alex a headache. Putting on his usual faςade of almost annoying arrogance and strong charisma, he bursts into the office. He is shocked when he realizes that he and Jones are not alone in the room. Who the fuck…?
Realization dawns upon Alex when the man turns in his chair to face him. It's not who he expected, nor who he wanted.
Alex greets the man, frozen in his tracks: "Well hello there, Hunter,"
A big thanks to Tess, Pogs, Anch, and Lacie for help choosing the bf's car! I love that I have people I can count on to find vehicles for 'your typical small-dicked asshole who wants to make up for it with a nice car.'