Chapter 11: Lessons from a "Totally Objective" Teacher

When they left the house in Chelsea, both men noticed they were being tailed almost immediately. Alex nicknamed the men Glasses and Tie Clip. They were both about average height, average build, and wore standard suits. Glasses had distinctive gold-rimmed glasses that gave him away. Tie Clip had only been slightly harder to spot, but his tie clip was really shiny. He and Ian exchanged a look. Amateurs. Ian was less than amused at his co-workers following him. He wondered what they wanted this time. Ian sincerely hoped they weren't trying to be particularly stealthy because if they were he would (metaphorically) weep for the future of MI6.

Alex took a minute to observe the street around them. It was early, so some of the shops were still closed. The right side of the street held a women's clothing store, a grocery store, and a large supermarket. The alley behind was the beginning of a residential area and a woman was on a balcony (over) watering her plants with a bucket. Alex made a mental note not to walk under any of the plants. The left side held a closed cafe; it looked like the owner was in- there was a car nearby. It also held a store for good suits, some sort of fad teen store, and a Mark & Spencer's. Only a few people were milling about. There was a woman with brown hair and a stroller who looked really tired. The two men in suits who appeared to be following them also stuck out. The was a harassed looking redhead man who appeared to be going into a side street and a blond woman who looked like she had smelled something bad. Alex turned his attention to the men in the suits.

Alex was fairly certain they were actually MI6 agents. They reminded him of the bodyguards from the funeral that hopefully wouldn't be a repeat experience anytime soon. He wondered what Ian was going to do about it because he was not going to be followed by agents for a whole day. Ian must have caught his expression because the man suddenly smirked. "Pop quiz time, Alex. Who are these guys and how do we ditch them?" Alex couldn't keep an almost identical expression off his own face. "First, we take pictures for our dumbass tails album." Ian bit back a laugh. "The what?" "The album, Ian, keep up. We are going to start one for one of those family bonding activities people keep talking about." Ian snorted. "Then what?" Alex couldn't hold back the shit-eating grin. "Then we decide that since nice people from some sort of government place decided to tail us, we go through a women's underclothing store, into the alley behind and make sure to time it so they get soaked by the lady watering her plants from above the alley and run away as fast as we can."

Ian liked that plan, perhaps a little too much. It reminded him of something John might have done before his deep cover days. The two of them headed straight for the women's clothing store. The look on Tie Clip and Glasses' faces were priceless, but they followed in a stunned sort of way. They both went straight for the alley, and were followed. Then Alex ran ahead of the bucket that was, sure enough, about to dump a lot of filthy plant water. The two of them looked almost triumphant when they were suddenly drenched by water that went straight through the pot and on top of both of them. The soil must have been soaked already. While they were distracted, the two spies took off down the street, laughing as they ran.

Ian smiled ruefully a few minutes later; he was going to pay for that later. It was the most fun he had had in ages. Now back to their original lesson. "On the street we were in, how many people were eating in the cafe we passed?" Alex didn't have to think too hard about it. "None, it was closed. There was only one car parked there." Ian decided to head for his original destination for Alex's lesson- cafes always had interesting enough people at this time of the morning in them. He knew Alex already knew all of this- he had taught him it years ago. The point of this was to make him use the observation skills and hopefully learn his lesson about ignoring them and going into danger any way. Not that he planned for anything violent to happen.

Meanwhile…

Tulip Jones knew full well she shouldn't be amused by Ian Rider's antics, but she was. Frankly, it was all she could do to keep from laughing (and her face blank) when the two (still soaked) agents had reported back to her. Honestly, they had been warned that Agent Rider was not an easy mark, especially when he was with his nephew. She had been concerned when he broke his habit of in-person debriefing and opted to actually fill out paperwork for once in his life. The text he had sent later had not helped either. It had been a picture of the two getting soaked with muddy water with the caption: Amateurs.

She supposed he might want a few days with his nephew. He had also brought said nephew, Alex, along for a highly sensitive operation for a vacation. Ian hated bringing people along; it was odd that he wouldn't mind a child, who should have been even more difficult, but refuse a partner. Honestly, she supposed a few months off and a psych evaluation wouldn't be out of line. When it came to top agents, they had kind of slacked in that department in the past. Plus, he wasn't normally that vindictive about losing his tails- he normally just ditched them. Tulip Jones didn't like changes in people's habits. It meant trouble, normally.

Alan Blunt had signed off on the surveillance of Ian Rider; he had refused a debrief in-person and had opted to fill out paperwork. Nobody, especially not Ian Rider, liked paperwork. He wondered what the man had been thinking, bringing his nephew long. Hadn't he hired a babysitter? Sadly, the incoming psych evaluation would probably yield very little. The man tended to consider them a form of interrogation and generally didn't respond well to them. Rider liked his privacy, apparently. He supposed he could have an agency work party and make everyone bring their kids as a way of preventing violence, though he didn't think it was that tense around the office- there was a reason spies don't have parties, EVER. Normal workplaces had that right? Plus, it would be nice to see different kind of interaction than the usual (yes, sir or fuck you, Blunt) he normally was limited to. Although, he would probably have Tulip alert everyone so she could have practice dealing with complaints- it was a good skill for the head of operations that he hoped she would replace him as. He was pretty sure that he and Rider were the only senior employees with family (left). Some of the junior agents had kids or should by now.

Tulip Jones had no idea why Alan Blunt thought an office party would end well but she was going along with his plan. She sighed as she sent the round of emails out and privately hoped that a many employees thought of excuses a possible. She had a vague feeling that between Smithers, Rider(s), and Crawley shit would hit the fan (she had no idea why, they only liked causing as much chaos a possible). Tulip just hoped she had an office to come back to the next day. Of course, Blunt would figure no one had a life and only send emails three days in advance. There was a good chance fewer people would come, but that was probably for the best (no need to permanently traumatize everyone at once). She had even made sure to mention the party was voluntary.

Ian Rider was enjoying his nephew's quips more than he would ever admit. He barely resisted a smile. "What about that one, Alex?" Alex mentally groaned at the next person who entered the cafe. Would this ever end? "Middle-aged and overweight. Mid-level businessman. Has a ring tan line on his hand. The only danger he is would be if he had a heart attack, fell on a person, and suffocated them." Alex mentally added: he could be wearing a fat suit and be an agent in disguise, but I doubt it since he is downing drinks at that rate. He was reminded of the crane operator at a certain car lot. They had been doing this for days. Ian smirked. "Such rudeness, Alex, wherever did you learn these things?" Alex rolled his eyes. "I learned from the best, Ian." "Riiight." Judging from the man's expression he was going to be paying for that comment shortly. "How do you feel about office parties, Alex?" "Just fine." He pulled off that lie easily. In reality, he was about to panic- what the hell was Blunt playing at?! "Well, then, you won't mind coming to one of mine." Shit. Shit. "Ok, Ian." "Well, it is time to go home and plan for it." What the hell? MI6 never had office parties

They both took a cab home. Ian was irritated by his boss' insistence on a psych evaluation. Maybe it was petty, but he wanted that part to go a bit more explosive than the original plan. Time for a crash course in IEDs (it was a wonderful educational opportunity!) for Alex. They wouldn't be doing any serious harm, anyway. The ones they were detonating, at least. He decided to visit the cleaning closet in advance. Making toxic gas was disturbingly easy with some of the chemicals in a standard one. Alex may as well learn the theory for the more dangerous ones while they were at it and Starbright was out grocery shopping. Ian had a sinking feeling she might protest another one of his entirely practical lessons.

John Crawley was rather shocked at Alan Blunt's idea of an office party. Truth be told, he wasn't sure how to get out of it because he had no personal life to use as an excuse. He had a vague feeling that it wasn't going to end well, so he packed standard equipment set for his briefcase. With high profile targets in one place, it was best to be prepared. He also wasn't sure how to handle Rider junior. That kid was weird and really quiet. Crawley wasn't sure how Ian would take it if he talked with the kid- the guy was kind of possessive of his only relative, although you couldn't really blame him. He had a soft spot for that family.

Smithers was delighted at the idea of an office party. His nephew wouldn't be able to attend, but he was kind of a sucker for kids in general. If he could justify the budget expenditures, he would totally make kid gadgets. Unfortunately, MI6 had a limited budget. He wondered if he could get Alex to try a few games he had made in his spare time. That would be fun to see. He would really enjoy that party. He decided to take his weapons and ID, just in case. He wanted to meet Alex. There were three people terrorists would love to kill in the same place.

Tulip Jones was relieved when she saw the very short guest list for the "party". It was Smithers, Crawley, both Riders, herself, Alan, and two junior agents (Taylor and Brown) who hadn't been smart enough to find excuses. She had pre-scheduled therapy for both of them. For some reason, she thought they might need it. She decided that the extra fireproofing on her office was totally justified. Jones figured if Blunt wasn't smart enough to fireproof his office, he deserved whatever happened to it. Plus, it was a wonderful revenge for the amount of complaints and complete bullshit excuses she had to go through for this. The paperwork was astronomical for her job as it was, thank you very much.

A few hours and many concealed mini-explosives later, Ian and Alex had both changed into their suits. Alex took a moment to covertly examine Ian. The man seemed perfectly calm and cheerful. Ian was actually good-looking, especially in his suit. Alex decided that he would torment his uncle back about the stares he got from women in the streets. Alex was also dressed in a suit and quite happy for any excuse he had to set off explosives at the 'bank'. He was looking forward to tormenting the others agents, even if they hadn't done anything in this timeline to him- he was just a little petty; it wasn't like he was wishing death upon them. Alex decided that wreaking as much havoc as possible would decrease his chance of being recruited, to. Ian was smirking just a little bit; he enjoyed a good bit of chaos as much as Alex did. "Ready, Alex?" "Yep, armed and dangerous." Ian laughed at the mock serious expression he put in his face. It was a warm, light sound. They got in the car.

Alex held his breath as he entered the headquarters of MI6. He knew better than to touch his knife for reassurance, but he was still tempted- it would give away the knife's position. He had a second one up his other sleeve. The scanners were in the elevator, so unless he drew them, nobody would know that they were there. He hoped he would not have a reason to. Alex was already tense, even before he noticed that the only people who had showed up were them, Jones, Blunt, Crawley, Smithers, and Glasses and Tie Clip. Oh, joy; he was overwhelmed by warm happy vibes. Actually, he wasn't sure he would be able to resist stabbing Blunt, but the explosives would be a wonderful distraction. He loved his uncle's sense of 'humor'- Alex personally suspected a revenge plot.

He remembered the lesson with a faint smile, pushing back his nausea at seeing the people who had ruined his life. His uncle's voice was repeating in his head. "Now Alex, where do all the best people go for a bomb?" Alex had felt snarky. "The weapons dealer?" Ian had smirked. "For amateurs, Alex. No, you will go to the cleaning closet, one of people's greatest weapons." Alex tried for a nervous charming smile as he edged closer to them, at least he had Ian with him. Their first meetings went eerily like the graveyard. "Hi, you must be Alex, your uncle mentions you often. I'm Alan Blunt." Alex's mouth had always run before his common sense. "That's funny, Ian never mentions you." That got him Ian's elbow in his kidney. Alex flashed his most innocent looking smile, which would fool absolutely no one by the end of the night. They moved on to Mrs. Jones. "Hello, Alex. I'm Mrs. Jones. I'm Mr. Blunt's second in command. That one on the right is John Crawley with acquisitions. The two by the table are Mr. Taylor and Mr. Brown. The man talking to Crawley is Smithers. It's nice to meet you." Alex reflected that her smile seemed genuine, though he couldn't be sure. "Nice to meet you to, Mrs. Jones." He did his best to sound sincere. Ian didn't elbow him, so he knew he did a passable job at not sounding sarcastic. Blunt looked as dead as ever, with the grey suit, grey skin, grey eyes, and grey lips. Mrs. Jones seemed to be awkwardly hovering, so he decided to cut her some slack. "Mrs. Jones. What do you think of the riots in France? Personally, the political situation seems to be permanently unstable, even without the formation of The Jungle and recent immigration issues." The adults all stared at him. "What? I have a school project coming up." He hears Ian snort into his champagne; it sounded suspiciously like bullshit, but Alex let it go. Mrs. Jones seemed to be wearing a wide smile. "Well, Alex, why don't we go in a tour and talk on the way?"

Mrs. Jones goes on a roll. Alex already knew most of the information, but it was a good way of scoping someone out. Also, he needed her distracted so he could place the prank items. He discreetly slides them into place while Jones goes on about security issues involved with immigration. He even manages to get one under the door of Blunt's office. Alex was carrying a variation of a stink bomb that would make the entire office reek of skunk for weeks. It wouldn't set anything large on fire, but it might singe a few papers. Jones' office was fireproofed or it was being remodeled and he was unable to get one in. Oh, well. She seemed to be winding down by the time she finished her mini-tour. He hadn't really decided to go along, but Ian had seemed to be urging him to and he was glad for the excuse to go in the hallways. He doubted even he could sneak off in a room full of spies.

Alex decided to give her a run for her money. "What about the obvious human rights violations and people's' vulnerability to sex trafficking, aren't you concerned ethically speaking?" He knew governments had to at least pretend to care about that sort of thing to prevent riots. When he saw the gleam of anticipation in Mrs. Jones eye, he knew he probably shouldn't have challenged her to a political debate. Unknown to him was the fact that she had graduated at the top of every class, but geopolitics had been her absolute favorite. "Some would argue that it is a small price to pay for the stringent background checks and security that they provide." Alex was actually enjoying the private maneuvering in the conversation. "I would argue that people who trade human rights for the illusion of security deserve neither the rights nor the security. The good of the many may be a goal for governments, but that doesn't excuse them from their duty to protect the rights of the few." He privately detested the greater good that had gotten him sent on those missions.

Mrs. Jones was enjoying the debate and lecture far too much. "So you would potentially endanger millions for one life?" Alex tried not to smirk. "A logical fallacy considering security is always by degree, Mrs. Jones, but to answer your question anyway, I consider some lives worth more than others. The choice between seven strangers and one family member would never be clear for some, now wouldn't it?" Mrs. Jones had sacrificed her children for the greater good. "The seven people, Mr. Rider." Perhaps it was a bit sharper than she intended. Alex retorted. "I would choose the family member, Mrs. Jones." He couldn't stop his eyes from blazing and his tone dropping to ice. "We will have to agree to disagree on that point then, Mr. Rider." She stated sharply. Alex figured he may have accidentally hit a sore point. "The answer has the same fallacy as the question, Mr. Rider. How many people would you sacrifice for the one that means the most to you?" Jones knew she was being deliberately sharp now, but she still ached because of her children and she had a point to prove. Alex considered the question. He couldn't really tell her England could burn because he knew he wouldn't be able to do that, either. "I can only definitively say not millions Mrs. Jones." She felt relieved for a reason she couldn't put her finger on. They were back at the party and Ian Rider was giving both of them odd looks.

Ian was puzzled. As far as he knew, Alex had no interest in politics. The project for school was a complete lie. He could only guess at whatever game his nephew was playing. Ian knew Alex would find a worthy opponent in the deputy head of operations of MI6. Tulip Jones was intelligent and more than competent, but Alex had a certain panache he could appreciate more. He had full confidence in Alex's ability to get the modified explosives past his boss. Ian knew better than to grin at the all clear sign his nephew gave him. Wait. What the hell was that kind of question? What was Jones playing at? Alex was ten and not in charge of anything. How many people would you sacrifice for someone you care about? Really, Jones? He felt more pleased than he should at Alex's answer. Not millions. He was so outing her to his shrink, at least the abominably cheerful man would be good for something. That had to be crossing some sort of line. He decided to go back to the full (and rather dull) conversation with Crawley before he had a yelling match with Jones.

Tulip Jones had forgotten she was talking to a ten-year-old until Ian Rider's glare was sent in her direction. Oops. She hadn't meant to get that sharp with him, but the attitude was one she found frustrating. It had led to more than a few leaks that had cost an untold number of lives. He was just far too intelligent for that point of view. She made a mental note to try to change his mind. Plus, she missed having political debates with someone and having a devil's advocate was always better. Jones decided to try to meet him in a nice public area- no need to be accused of impropriety by a certain overprotective uncle. Alex should really stop by more often. Maybe someday she could work with him- after he corrected those horrible political views of his, but then this wasn't the sort of place that cared about employees' political beliefs as long as they did their job. He was certainly intelligent enough for intelligence work. If Alex had been eighteen and out of school, she might have hired him on the spot. She decided to migrate over to Alan before she started on about politics again. Alex was already heading towards Smithers.

Alex had decided to speak with Smithers- he was genuinely fond of the man, despite the fat suit deception. He made a beeline for the man, slightly desperate to escape the more than slightly intense conversation with Jones. It was odd, since he had never seen that much emotion on her before. Alex decided to ponder it later. This entire party had never happened in the last timeline. He wondered what had changed. The man did look as happy to meet him as he had been in the past life. "Mr. Smithers, I'm Alex." He decided to go with polite, just in case. "Pleasure to meet you, m'boy. It's just Smithers. I have a nephew your age and he is simply delightful. Do you want any of the pastries? They are quite good." Alex smiled slightly. "No, thank you, Smithers. What do you do for the bank?" Smithers seemed to barely be able to contain himself. "I'm with research and development and integrated technology. You don't want to hear about such dull things, though." Alex supposed he wasn't even lying from a certain point of view, though he doubted Smithers' work could ever be particularly dull. "What do you do in your free time, then? The man seemed relieved. "I work on some programs, and even made some games. I can send them to you if you'd like." Alex tried not to grin too broadly. "That would be nice, thank you. Maybe some books on the programming stuff to, our school doesn't have or cut its program." Smithers decided to send the kid all of his books then and there. "Shame on them. I'll send some to you." Alex grinned. That was two. Did nobody in MI6 that he knew have a life? Smithers really was a nice guy, or as nice as it got in black ops, anyway. "Thanks." He was sure anything Smithers sent would be wonderful.

Smithers decided the snarky commentary for Blunt was probably Alex's genetics kicking in- not to mention he privately enjoyed when someone stood up to him. Nobody liked that man on a personal level anyway. You didn't get to be head of MI6 by being a Girl Scout, but that guy took creepy to a whole new level. He would prefer the cute kid stay as far away from the man as possible anyway. Everyone knows kids and creeps (sorry, spies) didn't mix well. Alex was definitely charming, in a sort of mischievous boy kind of way. The kid looked like his uncle and probably even more like his dad. He wasn't clumsy either; actually he was almost unerringly graceful, like a dancer. Smithers privately decided that if it was up to him Alex would have a nice, normal life- like his nephew.

Alex decided that Ian, Tie Clip- sorry, Taylor, Glasses- he meant Brown, and Crawley the Creep. He did NOT want to talk to Blunt, but he and Crawley had almost the same kind of blip on his creep-dar. He took a closer look at the agents- cleanly shaven, early twenties, medium build, and still wearing the distinctive glasses and tie clip. He bit back a sigh at the sight of tweedle dee and tweedle dum; someone needed to tell them not to wear distinctive objects during surveillance operations. Alex decided not to bring up the muddy water incident (for now) and greet Crawley (they would probably be insulted if he gave them surveillance tips. "Mr. Crawley, I'm Alex." The man gave him a small, slightly indulgent smile. He decided to prompt the man. "So, what exactly does my uncle do for the bank? He doesn't really mention work much." Crawley did some quick thinking. "He manages foreign assets and does a very good job". Alex kept the wry smile off of his face. That was one way of putting it. The two agents were staring again- honestly, hadn't they ever seen a kid? Alex was officially irritated. Why would they hire the two most obvious people on the planet? He knew better than to say something, but couldn't resist a jab at both junior agents. "Did the mud come out alright then?" Ian is barely holding in his laughter. The two glare at him. "You know, following people can get you on restraining orders right?" Alex could tell he was about to get punched and cursed his own impulsiveness. Ian elbows him again. "Alright, Alex, I think they learned their lesson." He didn't want his nephew's observation abilities revealed. Alex knew to stop now and allowed himself to be dragged back towards Blunt and Jones. Just great. Tweedle dee and tweedle dum were glaring daggers at his back.

Jones immediately looks in his direction and seems to visibly look more cheerful. Alex had a feeling he might be seeing her more often and made a mental note to look up more current politics. Jones seemed a little too into their arguments. Not in a pervy sense, more in a I'll change your mind if it is the last thing I do kind of way. She was little intense, especially since he remembered her as nearly emotionless. Blunt was giving him one of the x-ray looks. He felt once again, like a bug under a microscope. Alex did his best not to flinch. The last time he had gotten that look, he had been recruited to MI6. "Hey, Ian, what time is it?" Ian resisted the temptation for a snarky answer. "About ten, why?" Alex decided to drop the least subtle hint of all time. "Isn't that my bedtime?" He asked in his most innocent tone. Ian almost did a double take. Alex doesn't have a bedtime. Oh. Oh. "Yes, definitely, Alex. We should go now." The two of them all but run from the room. "What was that about, Alex?" "Your boss gives me the creeps." That much was true. Ian couldn't even disagree with Alex on that part. "We could have at least seen their reactions." Ian was slightly miffed. Alex smirked. "Check the cameras in the morning. I'm sure you'll live." They both head home in Ian's car.

Meanwhile….

When Alan Blunt first heard explosions, he felt the first jolt of panic he had had in many years. After quashing it and taking cover with Jones, he noticed that little to no damage was done, but the office began to reek. The smell was so strong it made everyone's eyes water. They had made a protocol for this. They all fanned out to search the building and assess the damage. He noticed that, aside from the smell, there was nothing but a few singe marks. Blunt wondered who in the hell would bother doing that to his office and most of the building. Then he heard Jones groan. "Ian Rider is so getting written up for this…." Smithers thought it was rather amusing, truth be told. He barely resisted a smile. "He never left the party Mrs. Jones, when would he have placed them?" Jones thought for a minute. "He must have put his nephew up to it."

Crawley was feeling a bit of respect for his coworker- bombing Blunt's office as a joke definitely took guts, especially considering the guy could send you on a five year sheep counting mission in Siberia if he felt like it. Jones had known something like this could happen, but she still wondered how their top operative could be such a complete child. She was definitely seeing Alex again- kids needed a mature influence in life and it would be a waste of intelligence if Alex stuck by his current views in her opinion. Jones wondered how Alex would feel about the debate on enhanced interrogation techniques. Alan Blunt mentally sighed in both relief and exasperation. He wasn't going to pull anything too harsh on his top agent, but this was still irritating. Not to mention, the two junior agents appeared to be slightly shell shocked. "Written up?!" Brown squawked in protest. "He should be fired. This is an outrageous abuse of position and advanced explosive knowledge, not to mention endangerment of a minor and.."

The glare from Crawley shut him up. No way was Ian Rider getting fired on his watch; he was too good. Not as good as John, but far better than Brown could dream of being. "Considering the man spotted and dispensed of the team you lead, Agent Brown, perhaps you should further reserve judgement. He knows what he is doing; consider this exercise character building. Furthermore, the man's field work and decorum far outstrips yours. Ian Rider is effectively immune to being fired." The man wisely switched to quietly fuming. Crawley wasn't done. "It also didn't escape my notice that a ten-year-old spotted you; no matter how intellectually gifted Alex Rider is, this should not have happened. You two are doing a remedial course on following techniques, starting with why we don't wear distinctive glasses or shiny tie clips while following experienced field agents." Realistically, he knew he was being harsh and the kid was weirdly observant, but he didn't care. Smithers had slunk off to go home. Angry Crawley was not a sight he wanted to witness. Jones decided to intervene before they had another explosion on their hands. "Seconded, Crawley, but next time, consult me first. I also want you to personally assemble a complete file on Alex Rider." The two agents went off to fume before they could be punished further. Blunt made a mental note to keep an eye on them. "Goodnight, Mrs. Jones, Agent Crawley." He departed and made a mental note have the cleaning crew in his office first- it seemed only Mrs. Jones' fireproofing had prevented her office from the same fate. He wasn't angry- destructive operatives were nothing new. Crawley decided to turn in- building searches weren't short. "Goodnight, Ma'am." Jones sighed. "Goodnight, Agent Crawley."