Chapter 32: A Different Kind of Education

So far, Alex got the feeling that Ian and Marion really hated each other. The passive-aggressive comments were going to drive him nuts if they weren't careful. "So you know about your great-grandparents, right?"

Alex's attention was drawn back to the present. Marion had decided to take him on an outing. In the middle nowhere. In a hot desert. "Nope. Just that they died before I was born."

Marion makes a choking noise in the back of her throat. "What have you been learning, then?" Alex shrugged. "Practical stuff mostly. Hand-to-hand and some weapon combat, basic medical knowledge, languages, and what I'm supposed to be learning in school."

Marion rubbed her eyes. "Right. I hoped Ian had been exaggerating for effect."

Alex snorted. "He usually understates things."

Marion huffs. "I guess I will tell you then."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "It all began shortly after the first World War." Alex was tempted to ask what. "The world was in turmoil, you see. The old powers had been beggared. Mighty nations were soon reduced to astronomical unemployment rates during the Great Depression. Ironically, of course, illegal immigration rates went significantly down. After all, no jobs were available. Both sets of your great-grandparents occupied minor government positions. They and a few like-minded colleagues founded the first generation of the Black Circle."

Alex sighed. "What is the Black Circle?"

Marion's eyes took on an unholy gleam. "An organization dedicated to maintaining the balance of the great world powers, especially intelligence agencies, governments, and a few of the more powerful crime syndicates."

Alex thought it sounded like a cult or the Illuminati, personally. "Like SCORPIA?"

Alex felt like he'd done something horrendously wrong the minute Marion looked pleased, like a panther that had been given live pray instead of dead meat. "Yes, dear child, exactly like SCORPIA." Alex felt every alarm on his creep-dar go off. "The English Riders, the German Webers, the French Bernards, the Bulgarian Dragovs, the Turkish Demirs, and the American Jones made up the original founders of the group. Over time, the Israeli Becketts, the Japanese Tanakas, the Italian Russos, the Chinese Chens, and the Russian Sokolovs joined in, though mainly after World War 2. Some of both phases of families have gone extinct. There was a bit of conflict and pushback after and during the Cold War." Yes, this sounded so safe and legal. Marion continued. "Essentially, only the Riders, Becketts, Tanakas, and Chens have any real influence still going, though the Webers, Dragovs, and Sokolovs still have surviving members. The rest of the families were completely eliminated through a combination of internal and external forces." Alex was not very reassured. Marion paused. "I think that's enough history for today."

Alex felt a little relieved. "What are we going to do then, for the rest of the day?"

Marion's eyes gleamed. "It's a surprise." Alex wondered if it was too late to run away screaming.

They drove for a while until they got to a place that looked empty. "Why are we stopping here?"

Alex instinctively knew to talk as quietly as possible. Marion sharpened visibly. The invisible shift had Alex on edge, as did the sadistic glee that seemed to be coming off of her. "It's time for you to learn about the realities of life."

Alex's heart began to race. Marion didn't check to see if he was following. "By the way, I wouldn't try to run if I were you. It's a long way through a barren desert back to the house." Alex wondered what the hell was going on. This reminded him a little too much of when one of the people he'd gone up against tried to get him to give up. There was what looked like a temporary building. The smell told him what exactly he'd walked into the minute the door opened. The combined mix of unwashed human and blood, among other things, made him gag. Oh god. She'd taken him to some kind of torture session. He began to gag but did his best not to show an outward reaction. She walked into a room with a man who was tied to a board. He'd clearly been there for a few of the worst weeks of what humanity could do to itself. "This man is a terrorist. He targeted women and children for terrorist attacks. I can't have him getting away and warning his little friends about what we now know. Kill him."

Alex's breath came in shallow. It was different. This man wasn't targeting Ian. "I can't. Not in cold blood."

Alex hated how he was almost pleading. Marion's eyes flashed dangerously. "Can't isn't an option."

Alex couldn't. "No." He drew his knives, knowing he would lose this fight, badly. Marion lips twisted into a fierce smirk as she drew her own knives.

Alex wondered how he got himself into these messes. He opened up into a fighting stance, but instead of the attack on himself he thought was coming, Marion suddenly twisted and ripped the man's throat open with her knife. Holy fuck. She was faster than Yassen. Alex felt his eyes involuntarily widen. "You see, Alex, your refusal was ultimately pointless. He still died."

Alex returned to his opening stance and inched closer to Marion. "Your point is moot, except that I now know you ruthlessly execute unarmed prisoners. Besides, it was not I who took his life."

Marion swiped at him. Alex dodged on instinct. The flash of steel told him just how close her knife had come. He returned with a stab of his toward her torso. Marion easily parried his hit. "Not bad for an eleven-year-old. But not good either. You dropped your guard."

This time he wasn't quite fast enough and her knife cut into the skin of his torso. He barely felt it. "Dead."

Marion said with a smirk. Suddenly, Alex exploded. He was sick and tired of being dominated in physical combat. Faster than he imagined he could move he swiped at her arm and torso. He was shocked as they actually hit. "Dead yourself, aunty dearest. Step away from the dying person and don't get overconfident, remember."

Marion grinned. She was a lunatic. He was so dead. "Wonderfully done, Alex."

Wait, what? Alex froze, took a look at the dead guy and looked back at Marion. "Sorry?"

Marion shrugged. "It happens. You are still in training after all. If anything I should have parried."

Alex mentally breathed a sigh of relief. "So, you're not mad?"

Marion snorted. "About the swipe? No. About the dead guy? You'll learn eventually, but you're still young."

Alex didn't really want to get to the point where he'd execute people on a whim, but he didn't think now was a good time to say as much. "So what now?"

Marion grinned. It was eerily like his own Cheshire grin. "Knife combat practice, and not that pussy throwing shit Ian likes to propagate. I mean, it's useful, but you'll need the stabby stuff more." Alex rolled his eyes and narrowly dodged the retaliatory swipe Marion aimed at him. Clearly, the family rivalry was still in place. It was going to be a long and knife-filled day. Alex figured he didn't actually mind Marion's milder versions of child abu- he meant combat training.

At the end of the day, Alex was sore as hell. He knew it would be worse the next morning. Marion had decided that five hours of knife combat training was just the thing he needed. By the end of it, he had a good instinct for how to dodge. He was also covered in obvious cuts that would allude to his activities throughout the day. The cuts were irritated and red, though they clotted at a normal rate. Marion took a look at him. "We're done for the day. Let's get you fixed up. The shower's in the back."

She tossed him a change of clothes. Alex sighed and went to the shower, for once grateful for the cool water. Coming out of the desert heat, it was a relief. He drank some as well. Once he felt like he was no longer dying of heat stroke, he got out and got dressed. Alex left his shirt off since he wasn't sure if he needed stitches or butterfly bandages on the one on his chest. Marion looked pleased with herself. "You'll want to leave those alone and try not to twist. She'd gotten a first aid kit from somewhere and preceded to disinfect every single cut. Only the one on his back and the one on his chest got anything besides the disinfectant. "You'll want to keep sand out of the rest of those."

Lucky the shirt was long-sleeved. Unfortunately, it was light colored. None of the cuts were on his face, at least. He only had one on his hand. His arms were kind of torn up, though. Alex decided he would probably live and got back in the car. He hoped dinner was soon because they'd skipped lunch and he was starving.

Ian Rider was pacing the living room of the Beckett's place. Alex and Marion were supposed to be back any minute now, but he wasn't reassured. Supposedly, she was training and assessing him, but Ian had a vague feeling that what Marion chose wouldn't remotely be age appropriate. He hated not knowing where Alex was or what he was doing, particularly in a war zone. The two younger ones had been remarkably unhelpful when he'd asked about what Marion's lessons could contain. He suspected it was on purpose and that they'd taken personal offense to Alex's ignorance of the family customs. Frankly, it was none of their business. Darian just hovered smugly and gave the kids lessons. Patrick was less than sympathetic. "You will have to let him go eventually."

Ian whirled mid-pace. "I have seven to eleven more years."

Patrick smirked. "You assume that you will be keeping custody for all of those, then."

Ian resisted chucking a knife at him. "Keep your grimy, sand and blood encrusted hands off my nephew."

Patrick raised an indigent eyebrow. "He is my grandson!"

Ian whirled in place and started his pacing anew. "Who you never met, for a reason."

Patrick sighed. "You are basing a grudge off one event and the fact that you do not like the old ways. Your Alex might take to them, you know."

Ian snorted. "He won't, you mangy coot."

Patrick's smile was slightly predatory. "You don't know that." There was a pause. "Besides, as the last of his line, he very well doesn't have a choice. A pity you chose not to reproduce."

Ian grit his teeth. "Not that it is any of your business, but I don't like women."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "That has no bearing. Adoption is an accepted practice if you could not find a woman you could stand." Ian rolled his eyes. The elders had all grilled him about this at one point or another after John's death. Ian froze as he heard the door open. "Besides, you assume Alex will accept your sexuality and your crimes in and outside the Black Circle."

Well, he'd hoped he'd have been gentler in breaking the news to Alex. Alex strode in. "Not that it's any of your business, gramps, but I don't really care."

Ian felt instantly relieved. "About the crimes or the fact that Ian likes men."

Ian felt a warm sunny feeling inside. "Now, all of you play nice and quit accusing each other."

Alex whipped around and went upstairs. Darian slow clapped after Alex was gone. "Congrats you two. I'm outta here. Maybe the brat has the right idea about taking a walk." Darian left. Dinner was going to awkward as hell.

Jason and Lilly were staring wide-eyed at him as he entered the room. They immediately softened when they saw he wasn't mad. Jason delicately approached him with a surprising amount of grace. "You look like shit, cousin."

Alex grinned. "Your crazed mother had a billion goes at me with a knife. Aren't I pretty?"

Lilly giggled. Jason grinned. "I think the blood loss is getting to you cousin, best take a nap."

Alex took off his shirt and lay on the bed. Jason plopped down next to him and Lilly followed after. "What are you two doing?"

Jason grinned. "Listening to your heartbeat to make sure you don't die."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You could just ask to cuddle."

Lilly grinned. "But then, we wouldn't get to be snarky." Alex sighed and ran his hands through her hair. It was courser than it looked. With the cool air conditioning and soothing warmth, he fell asleep with surprisingly little trouble. Jason was running his hand through his hair and made a surprisingly nice pillow. It was nice. Having family besides Ian to hold and cuddle with. Alex let out a contented sigh and dropped into unconsciousness.

The call for dinner sounded all too soon. Alex woke up and felt vaguely nauseous. This was why he hated naps. Well, he was starving. He grabbed the white shirt to put on and delicately checked the butterfly bandages on his chest and back. Ian would have an apoplectic fit if he found out about Marion's training methods. The marks would fade after they healed anyway. His cousins were already shoving their textbooks and homework into various spots around their room. Jason was staring. "You're kind of cute, you know."

Alex ran his hands through his hair. "Oh, shove it up your ass, Jason."

Jason grins. "And there's the Alex we know and love."

Alex grabbed a glass of water and felt the last of his nausea fade as he finished it. They went down the stairs together. Ian took one look at him and glared at Marion. "He took a nap. Alex hates taking naps."

Alex mentally groaned. Ian was kind of overprotective sometimes. "I don't after five hours of close quarter's knife combat training, Ian."

Alex managed to gracefully sit down. He decided to let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like America. Ian looked slightly guilty or a second before shutting up. Lilly had a mischievous grin. She batted her eyelashes in a semblance of an innocent expression. "What happened in America?"

Ian and Alex exchanged a look. "Oh, nothing."

He was just stalked by a future assassin, taken on endless survival trips, and potentially traumatized by killing a deer with Ian's exact eyeshade. Not to mention supposedly stalked by an actual assassin. Yeah, he was guilt-tripping Ian now. Ian gave him one of the trademark mischievous grins. "Yes, absolutely nothing happened."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Now they'll never leave me alone, Ian."

Ian manic grin would have alarmed the calmest special operations veterans. "I believe, nephew dearest, that falls under not my problem."

Alex gave Ian his best wide-eyed innocent look. "But Ian, leaving me with my crazy relatives is child abuse."

Darian burst out laughing. "Aww, we love you too."

Lilly made a very rude gesture at him. Patrick actually cracked a smirk. "It is impolitic to mention."

Alex grinned. "You're not denying it." This time everyone started snorting.

Ian pulled Alex aside after dinner. It was one of the few times Alex had ever seen his uncle fidget awkwardly. "So, about earlier-"

Alex snorted. "It really is fine, Ian. I used to set the church services on fire to 'make them more illuminating', remember."

Ian chuckled. "And that was when you weren't sneaking off to break into the Tower of London during the new security upgrade demonstrations."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, and you took Tom and me out for ice cream after we succeeded, Mr. Responsible Guardian."

Ian shrugged. "You made my week. The expression on O'Conner's face was priceless when he realized two kids got past his 'genius' arrangement. Besides, I'm pretty much an atheist in case you hadn't noticed."

Alex snorted. "Oh, well."

Ian pulled him into a hug. Alex made an effort to ignore the effects of the weight on his cuts and succeeded in not stiffening or flinching. "Besides, I don't appreciate his very unsubtle attempt to break us up."

Ian sighed. "That's nice, Alex, but why are you bleeding?"

Alex felt his stomach drop at the question. "Uh, Marion got a little over-enthusiastic during knife practice."

Ian hissed. "Show me."

Alex sighed and unbuttoned his shirt. "I swear I'm going to-"

Alex cut him off. "Do absolutely nothing."

Ian growled. It was rather like living with an overprotective panther sometimes. "She practically mauled you."

Alex waved him off. "It'll heal. I'm putting my shirt back on now." Ian hissed something that could not be repeated in polite company under any circumstances.

Ian Rider was furious. That Mossad bitch had decided to use Alex for knife practice. He didn't care what Alex said. Alex was an eleven-year-old who sent taunting notes to assassins. Clearly, Alex had little to no accurate threat assessment. His nephew had wandered back into the house when it was clear the conversation was over. He stalked back into the house. Marion was sitting in the living room. Patrick was seated in the armchair and Darian was hovering in the corner. The man never seemed to sit down when Ian was around. They had been waiting for him, apparently. Ian checked to make sure the kids weren't around. Good, he could take off the gloves then. "What do you fuckers want now?"

Marion raised an eyebrow. "Such acrimony, Ian, you need to relax."

Ian tensed. "Not while you Mossad cunts cut up my nephew for a bit of fun."

Marion ignored his manners. "Today was his assessment, silly. We all get a bit roughed up during those."

Ian grit his teeth. "And?"

Darian smirked. "You must be proud. Alex is ahead in scholastics and combat. The only thing he seems to be lacking in is his Black Circle knowledge."

Ian mentally cursed the public records. "Those fuckers in education never could keep their records private."

Marion sighed. "He is also unwilling to kill in cold blood. Even tried to fight me for it."

Ian resisted the urge to backhand her. "I should bloody well hope so. He's bloody eleven!"

She acted like it was a bad thing. Plus, it would keep terrorists away. Nothing said I'll fit right into your organization like a murder before the age of eighteen, never mind Alex had already shot one terrorist. "On the other hand, he seems to be perfectly willing to defend the family."

Ian kept from reacting. "What makes you think so? It could just be me."

Ian knew full well it wasn't. Marion's lips twisted. "Well, he already cares for Lilly and Jason. And, you know, there is...this…" The TV suddenly switched on to surveillance footage that was sickeningly familiar.

A very concerned pair of brown eyes met Alex's. "Ian?"

Ian replied. "In the flesh. Nice to know you're alive."

There was a pause. Alex had a guilty expression. "Now, would care to explain to me why you have shrapnel burns all over and gunpowder residue on your hands."

The reply was barely audible. "I saved you."

Marion paused the video. "Shall we continue, or did I get my point across?"

Ian sighed. He was going to have to call Tulip and tell her to scan the hospital for bugs, again. "Fuck you."

Marion smirked. "I don't think you'd enjoy it much, as I recall you prefer men."

Darian shrugged. "I'd do you."

Ian snapped back. "I have standards, thank you."

Puke. They were practically related. Though, he wasn't sure if that counted as a plus or not with these lunatics. Best to bring up consent, which he knew they actually cared about. Patrick interjected. "Thank you, children. Moving on, I assume none of you are considering arranged marriages for the actual children."

That drew shouts of protest from all three of them. Patrick sighed. "No is just fine. No need to shout obscenities loud enough to wake the street."

Patrick breathed out slowly as they quieted down. "Now, the next family reunion will occur in the summer of next year due to Alex's knowledge deficit."

Ian interrupted. "The hell it will. You said I had three years."

Patrick glared. "That is my decision a paterfamilias of the Beckett's, whose blood Alex carries. Though we are even in rank, Ian Rider, if I bring this to a full Black Circle I will win this case and most likely custody of Alex."

Ian resisted the urge to punch something. "Fine."

Patrick sighs. "It is only a few weeks, you still have primary educational control and custody, and we are Alex's family, too, Rider."

There was a pause. "And we will allow you to choose the locations as well, I suppose."

Ian felt a little better. Patrick mentally breathed a sigh of relief. The Rider family may make brilliant operators, but they had a notorious mental instability when it came to interference in family matters. "Finally, training programs for the next two weeks are due at dawn. Each of you (including me) gets time with all three children. You all have different specialties after all." The four adults all decided to suck it up so they wouldn't have to pull an all-nighter.

Alex noticed that the adults seemed to all be taking turns with them on some sort of weird little schedule they'd spent the night making. Darian had been up first (starting that morning). It was time to review bomb-making, apparently. He started all three of them on diagrams from both Hamas and Mossad. At least now Alex knew who to pin all of his explosions on. They were supposed to have them memorized by the end of the week. And be able to answer conceptual questions. Next had been dear old gramps. Alex had a bit of an advantage due to the books Sarov had sent him, the book Yassen had sent him, and his old missions. The old general had even slipped a personal, handwritten one in the back of the last book. It had been war, guerrilla warfare, and improvisational battle tactics. Well, it had started out as a lesson. Then it had turned into theoretical quiz time for Alex and eventually led to him theoretically defeating one of the most secure bases in the world. The old fart seemed actually impressed for a second. He'd decided to focus on the war and guerrilla warfare bits, so Alex wouldn't be bored. Lilly and Jason had just started looking hopelessly lost around a quarter of the way through quiz time, so Alex helpfully wrote them a booklist of all the legal books. Marion had decided to drag them out for regular firing lessons. Apparently, instinctive firing was useless for long-distance shots. She'd told him as much on the range after she delightedly challenged him to a shooting competition. And sent her children a significant look as she told him that his other, secret instructor was welcome anytime in the house. Alex highly doubted that either Yassen Gregorovich or Gordon Ross would ever be welcome in their house, but stranger things had happened. Alex had tried to play dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Marion had just snorted. "Honey, I've been using that one since before you were born. Everybody who knows squat knows Ian Rider has neither the inclination nor the aptitude to learn the assassin's style. It's ok to have other specialties, you know."

Alex wondered if Ian had been banned until late that night when they were dragged out for the kiddie version of night exercises. It was eerily like Malagosto. His chest was now sore from being sniped with paintballs and sliced open. Alex decided to text Yassen when he finally got a private moment at the end of the week.

-C

My relatives are officially evil.

-A

Yassen smirked at the text. This had to be entertaining. He was getting bored training his apprentice and nothing else. Rhea was beyond minimum standard for Malagosto, of course, but he wanted her to be the top of every class by a wide margin. He had a board to satisfy and a reputation to maintain. Not to mention, Alex would be upset if she died.

-A

And what brought on your sudden wave of paranoia and common sense?

-C

Alex loved texting Cossack. It always cheered him up. Besides, he could just picture the shit-eating smirk on Yassen's face as he read Alex's text. At least he had someone who was basically a captive audience biased in his favor.

-C

My agenda for the week includes: night exercises, memorizing Mossad and Hamas bomb plans, regular shooting, war strategy for regular and guerrilla warfare, and night exercises. I'm a growing child!

-A

Well, if Alex ever got tired of moralizing. Yassen had a job suggestion for him. It was the kind of skill set that would give D'Arc wet dreams. As for the training schedule, he was sure Alex would manage, somehow.

-A

Somehow, you will live. And exceed expectations, no doubt. I might just have to take another apprentice in a few years.

-C

That was what passed for sarcasm in Yassen-land. He hoped. Oh, well. He was sure that Ian would help him with anything Yassen involved. With selective information, of course. At least the dry lack of sympathy was on point.

-C

You haven't got the teaching bug have you? I knew you'd come around.

-A

Bullshit he did. There were only two acceptable apprentices on the planet and he had regular conversations with both of them. He would never much enjoy the company of others, but Alex and Rhea were tolerable.

-A

No. And Rhea is doing just fine. She will be Malagosto's next top student, with a survival probability of over 90%.

-C

Alex grinned. Yassen was just so antisocial. It was funny, as long as it wasn't you on the receiving end of his...poor anger management skills and disproportionate reactions. A bit like a head injury, in fact.

-C

I have to go. I get like zero privacy in this house and aunty is already suspicious.

-A

P.S. If anyone asks, I'm allergic to wanted lists.

Yassen sighed. It wasn't really fair to want more, but he was starting to. Rhea was simply there. Alex was actually fun. Alec Pierre in this case. SCORPIA would question them both about their meeting and Yassen already had a plan. As far as they were concerned, Alec Pierre was a grown man with brown hair and brown eyes with multiple bank accounts. Rhea knew the drill. She met a man who knew a guy. Yassen would claim it was someone who owed him a favor, but otherwise worked freelance for the intelligence agencies only. It would hold up to scrutiny.

-A

A wiser woman than your uncle, apparently. Do go if you have to. I will send you 'Alec Pierre's' legend, since you sent me the minimal paperwork you had for the legend. Memorize the details and attempt to keep it up on paper at least. It is not an insignificant amount of work, but it will help your cover.

-C

Alex felt a warm, fuzzy feeling. Yassen was forging paperwork for him now, apparently. He must be really worried about the board. Alex wondered why. What would they want with good old Alec Pierre, the flaky HR specialist who was allergic to wanted lists? He sighed softly. They couldn't need people that badly. He hoped. They were certainly better off than intelligence agencies, he knew. He hid the phone as he was called down for dinner.

Nile was honestly puzzled. Yassen had somehow gotten an apprentice without the board or any of the usual suspects involved. They weren't omniscient where Gregorovich was concerned, but they liked to stay knowledgeable. The fact that Yassen had gone outside SCORPIA resources seemed to have been almost expected by the others. Nile could only wonder at who he could have possibly gone to. There were very few people who could meet Yassen Gregorovich and come out alive multiple times. Fewer still were the ones that SCORPIA didn't know about. The man was freelance, but people in certain echelons of the underworld tended to know each other. Normally, permission was at least asked. There were very few actual independent contractors. If Nile had to bet on someone knowing one in SCORPIA, it would be Yassen. And it had to be an independent contractor. Now, all SCORPIA needed was a name or an alias or a description. Something, because someone that good was clearly wasted if they hadn't heard of them. Or perhaps they were in a position to demand absolute secrecy from Gregorovich and everybody else. And that would mean they were a danger. Someone like that wouldn't be free for long. And SCORPIA knew that they had a limited time window once the name began to circle around in other places. Yassen could keep quiet, but there was gossip that reached other ears, even here.

Yassen got the call he had been expecting that day. Gordon Ross would be coming to inspect their progress. Cossack would have a month or two after that to report to the school with his student. He wasn't worried and neither was Rhea. It was clear to both of them that she would try her hardest. Ross would be impressed. Then again, his view of acceptable standards was far above the island's lowest acceptable standards. He mentally sighed. Between Alex and Rhea, he was starting to feel actually responsible. A rustle drew his attention and he turned and drew his knife just in time to parry Rhea's thrown one. "Acceptable. But if you are after an experienced target, you will need to work on your approach and draw."

This wasn't actually too bad. Plus, his student always improved after every attempt. "Yes, sir."

Yassen picked the knife up off of the ground. "Gordon Ross will be coming to assess you tomorrow, as you know. If anyone asks, Alec Pierre is a man with brown hair and brown eyes."

Rhea's lips twitched. "Yes, sir."

Yassen sighed. "He owed me a favor, which was repaid by introducing the two of us and otherwise works exclusively for intelligence agencies. His mental imbalances make him an unsuitable candidate for employment in the organization."

Rhea grinned. "In other words, he's crazy."

Yassen swats the top of her head lightly. "He is brilliant at his job."

Rhea grinned. "He's still crazy. And that sounds nothing like Alec, except the last part."

Cossack smirks. "That is something of the point."

Rhea sighed. "I was afraid we were going to give them actual clues for a minute."

Gregorovich twitched. "And have them meet our dear Alec? It would end in a giant fireball, I think."

Rhea grinned. "With Alec miraculously unscathed and the others charred to the bone."

Cossack huffed. "Yes, brat, now back to training."

Alex Rider had gotten sick of being startled out of bed at night, so he decided to sleep lighter than usual, all he had to do was get himself back into the mission mindset. Alex's eyes flicked open the minute Ian and Marion stepped into the hall. He gripped his throwing knives firmly under the covers and tossed both of them at Ian and Marion when they opened the door. He made it so neither of the knives was in danger of actually skewering them. Ian looked shocked and Marion grinned manically. "Time for different exercises."

That ended up with him and his cousins being handcuffed to the chairs and having until dawn to escape. Alex being as paranoid as he was had, in fact, slept with his lock picking set. It was now coming in handy. Jason and Lilly had just given him an amused look when he managed to unlock the three of them in under twenty minutes. "Not paranoid at all are you?"

Alex whacked him. "Shut it, you. Besides I didn't hear you complaining about it while I was lockpicking your handcuffs."

Lilly rubbed his arm sympathetically. "I'm sure it's just the sleep deprivation."

Alex shrugged and muttered under his breath. And then he got an idea. He would be sooo grounded for this, but it would be totally worth it. The evil grin spread across his face. Lilly looked faintly uneasy. "Um, Alex, you look like mum when she gets a new torture idea."

Alex kept grinning. "Don't worry, this one is harmless, mostly. Would you like to prank the adults?"

The two were wearing grins identical to Alex's. Jason was the first to speak. "Oh, I'm in."

Ian Rider and the rest of the adults were rudely awoken by the sound of the dining room table exploding. Ian groaned. The constant activities were wearing even them down. Ian decided he was going to ignore that and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, his other relatives had decided to wake him up. He felt one of them lightly poke him. Ian groaned, rolled over, put his pillow over his head and pretended like he wasn't an adult with children to take care of. He felt one of them sit on him. "Get off."

He tossed the pillow at the other one. They were both smirking. "Real mature, guys. What were you going to do next? Lick me?"

Darian smirked. "No, but great idea. I'm sure you'd taste wonderful."

Ian punched him in the shoulder. "Standards, remember. And we're practically related."

Marion just snorted. "You English and your propriety."

Ian retorted. "It's called common decency."

Ian threw him off and on to the floor. Darian began to gear up for an argument. Marion whacked them both upside the head. "Boys. Breakfast, exploding tables, children."

Ian rubbed the back of his neck. "Right."

Patrick walked into the doorway. "You three quit planning your three-way and move your asses to the dining room! If this was an attack we would have been overrun by even the fucking Costa Ricans by now!"

Ian got up and dressed, but not before shouting. "Costa Rica doesn't have an army!"

Patrick paused in the hall. "Exactly!"

Ian huffed. Git. Marion and Darian were still mime-gagging at the mental image. "We're actually related!"

Patrick snorted. "Doesn't stop some."

Darian waited until Patrick was down the stairs. "Old perv. I blame the army."

Ian snorted. "I'll have you know that the British armed forces are a perfectly respectable establishment!"

Marion grinned. "Yes, for gays. Now, breakfast."

Ian yelled loud enough for the entire house to hear. "MARION!" The two Israelis were still laughing when the three adults got down the stairs.

When they got to the kitchen all four adults were confronted with the sight of their exhausted, but smug charges. And a completely obliterated dining room. The table seemed to have vaporized into needle-sized wood chips. Darian grinned madly. "Ice cream time, I've never had a prouder day in my life."

Alex's shocked expression was priceless. Ian facepalmed. And Jack accused him of being terrible at parenting. Marion just started giggling madly. Patrick just shook his head. "I knew we should have drowned them in a well as children."

Darian and Marion yelled. "Hey!"

Alex grinned. "Is for horses."

There was a collective groan. Ian wished he'd never gotten out of bed this morning. "The adults, Ian not the children. They've done wonderfully in applying their lessons."

Ian wondered if he'd been drugged. He was barely resisting the temptation to whack his head against the wall. Alex, still covered in wood chips and ash, walked over and patted his arm. "It's okay, Ian. Coffee will make everything better."

Ian just snorted. "I'm afraid no amount of coffee is going to materialize a new dining table."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "We keep a spare one in the attic. This usually happens at some point. No more blowing up furniture unless we are under attack children."

Ian just sat in the living room. "Yes, grandpa."

Wonderful. He was trapped in the house with a bunch of lunatics. Lunatics who were encouraging Alex's clear pyromania. Ian wondered if it wasn't too late to crawl back into bed. Alex slipped into the living room midway through cleanup. "So, should we keep a spare dining room table?"

Ian moaned. "Don't even think about it. We live with and as civilians."

Alex shrugged. "True."

Ian sighed. "So how have you been liking your family reunion?"

Alex's face twisted into a wry smile. "It's a different kind of education, to be sure." Ian chuckled.