Chapter 59: A Robbery in Paris

Lunch was over-priced and semi-healthy food from one of the shops inside the museum itself. At least Alex had gotten them ice cream afterward. Tom didn't feel as cheated that way. He wondered why Alex had never dragged him to more fast food shops in London. They both had "allowance" aka what they won gambling at school. Plus, Tom was sure Alex money that wasn't linked to Ian, considering how he'd offered to pay for the trip independently of the man. Tom wasn't sure how, considering their hotel was probably a couple hundred pounds a day, but he wasn't going to question it. It was nicer to just have Alex able to shield them from the bad decisions of adults. Tom watched his best friend with no small amount of anticipation. "So, what are we going to do tonight?"

Alex smirked. "The ballet and then a nice restaurant."

Tom groaned. "Why?"

Alex gave Tom an innocent expression. "Front row seats to tall, athletic men and women, Tom."

Tom grinned. "Never thought of it that way."

Alex smirked. "Plus, all those super-tight costumes."

Tom snorted. "I'll take it, Al."

Alex leaned back in his seat smugly. "And after?"

Alex shrugged. "I'll work it into the schedule, don't worry about it."

Tom huffed, "Oh, come on, you never include me in your awesome shenanigans."

Alex shrugged. He honestly hoped Tom wouldn't want to be included. "This is a gift, Tom. It would be rude of me to expect you to participate in its' acquisition."

Tom rolled his eyes, but let it go for the moment. They were in the museum they intended to rob, after all. No need to broadcast it, even if they were above suspicion as actual culprits, being twelve and all. Alex rose gracefully from his seat. Tom felt a squick of something. Why couldn't Alex be clumsy for once in his life? Alex seemed to notice him staring, but didn't comment, instead he just raised an eyebrow at Tom. Tom was eternally grateful Alex had finished his revision of all the school books into a nicer, friendlier format before deciding to vanish into the ether. Alex offered his hand to Tom. Tom grasped it and they went back into the swell of the crowd. The museum, like most of Paris, was exceedingly crowded. Tom was sure the place was supposed to be temperature controlled but wondered if everyone's combined body heat wasn't throwing off the temperature control for the precious paintings. It was late afternoon when they finally squeezed out of one of the museum's exits. Alex was making him wear a suit again for tonight's activities, but Tom wasn't going to complain. Alex did seem genuinely excited. Besides, pretty women in tights did sound kind of nice. Plus, the food was great, even though Tom thought they made way too much fuss about which fork was the fish fork and whether or not your jacket matched your pants. Tom sighed and waited for Alex to get out of the shower. Ian wasn't about to let Alex slack off on his workouts anytime soon.

Alex got back from the ballet and decided it was as good a time as any to plan to heist the Louvre. He had no earthly clue how to do it, but was not about to let that stop him. Tom was sound asleep, so he pulled out his phone. "Mads, are you there?"

-A

Of course.

-M

Alex grinned. The computer would make this a lot easier, if he could convince it to help him, at least. Then again, Maddox had yet to turn down any of his requests, no matter how insane or self-serving they were.

-M

My friend wants a shiny golden shield from the Louvre. Can we pull it off?

-A

The computer's circuits whirled. Technically, it should be protecting cultural artifacts, however, Alex and his goals were currently aligned. Plus, the chaos would allow him to move on to other soft targets. Particularly some of the country's birth records. Maddox was already anticipating Alex's need for a new identity or five.

-A

Don't be insulting, Master. I need a day or two, but on the last day of your vacation, all their night systems will be mysteriously disabled. Can't imagine why.

-M

Alex grinned. He loved having a hyper-aggressive supercomputer on his side. It made things much easier. It would have taken him weeks to plan this, otherwise. And probably a few months to code it, to be honest.

-M

Thanks, Mads. Why are you helping me do this?

-A

Maddox whirred in his subterranean fort. He calculated the rough risks of telling Alex everything versus keeping secrets. Alex did hate secrets. On the other hand, he would hate getting shut down if Alex decided he had advanced too much.

-A

I want you to be happy. Plus, I need to access other French systems and one more isn't going to be a hassle.

-M

Alex paused at the reply. The freaking supercomputer wanted him to be happy?! Alex felt himself tear up despite his mental age. Damn it! Why did it sting so much? Alex swiped at his eyes. He still had escape plans to worry about. The plane tickets were purchased, however, there was still a matter of the shield being sent back to Tom and the changes of clothes he would bring. He would need at least three, plus disguises. Anthony would have someone waiting for him when he got there, but that still left him and his dog alone for about twelve hours. Plus, there was no direct flight, so he'd have to change planes in CIA territory. Alex just had to hope Joe Byrne hadn't done anything to his flight computer records in the meantime. It would be a crapshoot running from the CIA in their home territory. He knew from experience that the wily bastards were everywhere. Alex rubbed his eyes and began making a list. Thankfully, Ian had agreed to get them in the morning, so he wouldn't be around to question Alex's extra luggage for the day. Alex had copied all of his textbooks, designs, programs, and any other extraneous bits of paper from his room onto various storage devices in his bag, along with most of the library from home. He hadn't got the chance to scan the fiction section, but he had tried to only take what was useful and necessary. Antonio had gotten him his parts to his specifications without asking any questions, and for that he was grateful. Alex was just glad he'd been enough of a geek to be able to reproduce a computer from his own time. To be fair, the technology and machines to make it were already there, they just needed some minor tweaks. Alex had the minor tweaks made into custom parts that Antonio had ordered and paid for. The crime lord had refused to tell him the price, let alone let Alex pay him back. Alex rubbed his eyes and checked the list. It would need to be checked in the morning, then memorized and burned, but other than that he was finally done for the day. Sleep came fast for Alex.

Alex woke for his final day in Paris extremely tense. "Are you okay?"

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. I just have a lot on my mind."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to steal me Sparkles if it's too much stress."

Alex grinned. "Oh, that's the least stressful part of it."

Tom rubbed his eyes. "Alright then. Don't worry about running away from home, you'll be fine. You've basically had no guardian anyway."

Alex rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Tom, we're going to be late."

Tom pouted and rolled over, only to fall out of bed completely. Alex glanced to make sure his friend was alright before bursting into laughter. Tom flushed the color of a fire truck. "I'm up."

Alex smirked. Tom waved a finger threateningly. "Not a word to anyone, you prat."

Alex grinned as Tom got dressed and nearly put his shirt on inside out. "Serves you right for not folding your laundry."

Tom flipped him the bird. Alex shrugged. He was enjoying this far too much. Tom lightly shoved him on the way to breakfast. Alex just raised an eyebrow. Tom rolled his eyes. Breakfast was a quiet affair. Tom took the opportunity to eat as many bowls of chocolate cereal as he could. Alex could reliably inform someone that anything past three bowls would give you a stomachache, but had been ignored by Tom. Alex had his usual breakfast of two eggs, fruit, and toast. So far, none of the supervillains had liked poached eggs, so Alex had those to avoid the memories. Plus, Hollandaise sauce was pretty good. After breakfast, they headed to a small shop. It was an odd sort of place, but Tom tended to like weird and shiny things anyway. Alex was also picking up his new passport there, but Tom didn't need to know that. Alex wasn't sure how Maddox had done it, but he wasn't going to question it too hard. He hadn't told Yassen or Nile about his plan. It seemed...ill-advised. Plus, Alex figured he could handle on heist and plane flight without those two, thank you very much. He was twelve, not incompetent. Tom appeared shortly after he'd wordlessly received a brown package from the shop owner. Naturally, he had a large shiny rock in his hands and a puppy-like expression on his face. Alex, not even bothering to sigh, wordlessly placed a bill on the counter and offered Tom his arm. Tom's smile made the overweight baggage fees worth it. That thing probably weighed at least five kilos. Oh, well.

Alex was almost anxious by the time the day ended. They got back to the hotel. Tom watched as Alex changed for dinner and saw the bags. "You'll come back, right?"

Alex smiled at Tom. "Of course, Tom."

He knew it was risky, but figured that his plan wouldn't be too bad if he kept up. "And I'll get a proper goodbye?"

Alex grinned. "Would I really do that to you?"

Tom gave him the evil eye. "Yes."

Alex pouted. "Traitor."

Tom smirked. "Runaway heathen."

Alex tossed a pillow at his best friend. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

Alex decided to answer honestly. "I've got no idea. However long it takes to feel okay, I guess."

Tom stared. "What did Ian actually do?"

Alex let out a loud sigh. "He genetically modified me without my consent."

Tom gaped. "He WHAT?!"

Alex waved his hand. "Shhh. It's not common knowledge."

Tom looked pissed. "He...he's lucky to live if the courts find out."

Alex huffed. "Like it'll ever get that far. Let me deal with this my way."

Tom closed his eyes and sighed. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

Alex pulled out several letters. "Send these."

One was for Jack and the other was for Belinda. Jack's was a proper good-bye like he should have done in the past life with MI6. Belinda's was a date, a time, and a place. She could come or not. Alex would prefer to have a shrink on his side. He had a vague feeling he would need it. Their dinner was awkward and fairly quiet. Alex wished Tom had confronted him after dinner. "I'm stealing your sparkly tonight."

Tom flashed him a grin. It was every bit the Tom he'd once known. "Why, thank you, Alex."

Alex resisted a smirk. "Well, you did ask so nicely. And you only made three socio-political errors in your request."

Tom glared at him from across their cake. "Fuck you."

Alex cheerfully stole cake off Tom's plate. Tom gave him a look but did not respond. "Well, Tom, you'd have to take me to the opera first."

Tom sputtered and then laughed. "I'm going to miss you, Alex."

Alex grinned. "Miss the opportunity to flirt, more like. Don't worry, Jamie will take care of you."

Tom pouted. "But I like you better than Jamie."

Alex retorted. "Of course, you do, I'm far better looking, but you'll have to make due."

Tom muttered. "And he knows it, too."

They got back up to their room. "I guess this is it, To-oof."

Alex was cut off from oxygen by his best friend. Tom hugged him. Alex wrapped his arms around the thin frame. Tom leaned into his shoulder, holding him for a full minute before releasing him. Alex didn't mind. "Be safe, Al."

Alex shrugged. "I will."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Alex grabbed his backpack and replied. "I try."

Tom handed him his other bag. "For all the good that it does you."

Alex looked back as he walked out. Tom's mournful blue eyes would probably haunt him for a good long while.

Alex walked towards the Louvre. Maddox had already disabled the relevant cameras. Thankfully, they weren't as common now as they were in the world he'd left. The front gates were held together by a padlock. Alex's gloved hands reached for the lock with a lockpick. A few twists later and the gates creaked open. There was no alarm. There was no noise at all. It was eerie. Alex went through the front door of the former palace. He still expected the alarms to blare. No such thing. Alex moved quickly through the entirely silent and deserted museum. Normally, there would be human guards, but Maddox had worked some electronic kabuki with the schedules. Alex was suddenly nervous and broke out into a jog. Three kilometers, if he remembered everything right. And he did. His memory was perfect now. Alex got to the shield in under ten minutes. Another lock and a cage surrounded the thing. Alex flicked the lock open and sharply inhaled as the cage swung open. Still no alarm. Tom had better stick this thing above the fucking mantle. It was an extremely heavy artifact for something only useful as a decoration. Alex decided to run with it. It barely slowed him down. It was more of an awkward shape, to be honest. Alex slowed to a walk as soon as he got near the museum entrance. He stopped near the pyramid and used the light to pack the shield into a shipping box. It would be sent to England on a plane at 7 a.m. after the post office opened at 6 a.m. The authorities would notice it missing at 9 a.m. and it would already be too late. Alex dropped the box into the depository. They had been discontinued after multiple terrorist attacks in his future, but for now, they were still there and commonly used. Alex closed his eyes, inhaled, and walked away. It was almost too easy. He had a plane to catch.

He called a taxi. The driver's grumpy attitude at being called for an airport drop at three in the morning was immediately put aside in favor of an offer to call the police. Alex had just silently slid an extra bill his way. The man had regarded him silently before loading his luggage into the trunk. Alex got out at the airport and wandered past the flags of the world, through security, and into the gate. A quick survey of his fellow passengers told him two things. One, they were too tired to care about the unaccompanied twelve-year-old. Two, the flight was so empty, they could get three seats to themselves and lie down. Alex thanked whatever higher powers there were for it. Even the flight attendant couldn't seem to be unnaturally chipper at this time of night. Everyone was virtually silent as the scanner dinged all of them in. Alex decided to take the nice flight attendant's suggestion and switched to the middle seat, let out his seatbelt, and lay down across all three seats to sleep. He leaned back into the still-to-narrow "bed" and tried to fall asleep. Alex must have eventually managed because he was gently woken for breakfast. "Cooked or Continental?"

Alex blurted out. "Continental, thanks."

The woman left him his tray and some orange juice. Alex wished it was coffee, but considering Maddox had slipped him out of being an unaccompanied minor, he didn't want to push it. Being put in a room while they called his guardian was the last thing Alex wanted now. Besides, he would then have to explain the fake passport. Plus, Joe might just take that as an invitation to assume custody of him. Since Joe had his own seemingly well-adjusted children, Alex would have actual parental restrictions and that wouldn't do. Alex needed his freedom of movement and ability to scheme. On the other hand, he figured Joe might need a distraction. He'd be sending the man a lovely informative email. Razim had been confirmed to be in the hideout that Alex had intimate knowledge of. The coordinates were burned into his mind after the first two incidents that had happened there. The rest was just history. Alex had decided to trust in the CIA's ability to kill a man first and ask questions. Besides, he wouldn't be using his real name. There was also the angle with Brendan Chase to consider. Alex knew Kurst was going above his fellow board members' heads and forcing them to look into people that a few privately disliked as replacements. He figured Chase wouldn't be too put out that "Alec Pierre" had sent the CIA a "tiny" "anonymous" tip. At any rate, he had emails to send.

Dear Joe Byrne,

You will find the man known as Abdul-Aziz Al-Rahim or Razim at the coordinates enclosed. I also have included the blueprints of his compound, an approximate count of the guards, and their approximate patrol shifts.

Why? It's the question I would ask. Let's just say Razim has made it personal between us and I want him interrogated and dead. You might be interested to know that the man has links with Al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein. I would if I was in your position. You'll find files detailing his "work" in "the science of pain" on his computer. It should yield information on the fates of at least three of your agents if nothing else.

Can I get more information from him? That would be my second question. The answer is "maybe". How about you see if my first note checks out, hmm? If I need you, I'll contact you. I will not work against Scorpia, but I'm sure you can find me if you want to contact me.

Happy Hunting,

Alec Pierre

P.S. Since I know you CIA-types like to label people, you can call me an "information broker". It's as accurate as any other title.

Joe Byrne's eyes were wide as he read the email he'd just received. It was at his private internal work email, too. The little French shit Pierre knew way too much about him for his comfort. He had a boss, several employees, and a bunch of people to call. Somebody went and found fucking Razim. Well, Joe had figured the man would eventually tick off the wrong people, but this was different. This was essentially a cold-blooded, knife in the back, stabby move. Byrne was unsure of what the man had done to piss the Frenchman off, and he was equally sure he didn't want to know. Joe sighed and sent the stuff off to the IT department. They would check for viruses and print it in time for his four-a.m. briefing that the supervisors had insisted on after getting his call. The next few days or weeks until Razim was caught would be hell. Everyone would have to get in place. The paperwork would be a nightmare. But it would be worth it. Joe had been after the man since the first few months of his career. The email seemed almost too good to be true. Nonetheless, it was nothing a few satellite images couldn't confirm. They could at least confirm that the fort was inhabited, at any rate. Joe closed his eyes and felt the bloodlust well up. Almost there. He could practically taste victory. Razim had never been this close to being caught. Joe wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling that the information was accurate. Pierre was going to be a real issue. Somebody had sold information on him. Joe wasn't sure how much or who it could be, but it had to be an insider. If Pierre could get the information, then so could his enemies. He might be estranged from his wife and adult children, but that didn't mean he wanted them to be brutally murdered by his enemies. Byrne made a mental note to get one of his people on it. There was no telling who Pierre was or, more importantly, what he wanted. Joe's office door was thrown open. "Is this genuine?"

Ah, it was Agent Knight. "As far as we know, yes."

Knight continued. "Does Pierre even know what he's done?!"

Byrne felt his lips twitch. "Presumably, yes, however, I'd leave that up to the psych department to determine-"

Knight interrupted him. "Fuck the psych department! Why aren't we tracking down Pierre this second?! He could be invaluable to-"

Byrne interrupted her tirade. It wasn't like he didn't share her feelings. "Or a tricky enemy. The point is, we don't know, so we'll be focusing on Razim for now."

Knight deflated. Ah, to be young and impetuous again. "Yes, sir."

Knight exited his office. Byrne waited about fifteen seconds and the door banged open again. It was going to be a long day.

Dear Mr. Chase,

I'm delighted sorry to inform you that the man known as Razim will be dead as soon as the CIA gets around to it. You see, he pissed me off rather badly. I can't have that, so he needed to die.

You might be interested to know that Kurst was planning to force his initiation into the board in a few years (presumably after he planned to eliminate Kroll), along with the Grimauldi Twins. I personally found all three intolerable, but Razim was particularly unpleasant. Of the options, the Twins are the more pleasant of the two but are a pair of savage brutes nonetheless. If I were you, I'd set someone on them, but fortunately, I'm not you, because then I'd have to put up with your colleagues.

Attached is as much as I know about the twins. I'd appreciate it if you shared this with as few people as possible, but I can't exactly stop you. If I were you, I'd look a little closer to home for replacements for your departed members, say, Yassen, but that's just a personal preference (a bit higher on the fineness points, if you catch my drift). In any case, your succession crises are your business.

I'll be a bit harder to contact from now on. I have business on a separate continent. You can route mail through the bank, but know that I'll be in South America until further notice, so expect about a month for replies.

Your Frenemy,

Alec Pierre

P.S. Have fun, but not too much fun!

Chase stared at the letter in front of him. He wasn't sure whether the wide grin on his face was a sign of impending madness or not. The nerve! The daring! The man was awful, just awful, and Chase was loving every second of the letter. Being part of SCORPIA was almost...exciting again. Thwarting Kurst would be amazing. Chase personally disliked the man, although he was not rude enough to voice such thoughts ever. The fifty pages of beautifully formatted, well-organized information were also fantastic. There were sources he could have gone to that were outside of SCORPIA (and in SCORPIA), but very few of them were this thorough. Pierre must be anal about information gathering. Who the fuck recorded "usual bowel movement times"?! It was hilarious to Chase personally, but still. Dr. Three did not look thrilled to be up past his usual bedtime. "You called?"

Chase could tell he was about three sentences away from a potentially lethal assassination attempt. "Pierre wrote. Take a look."

Three carefully took the letter and a massive (fifty-page) file from him. Chase could see the exact moment that Three got to the part about Kurst going behind all of their backs. The man's gaze sharpened. "Well, Pierre leaves something to be desired in the decorum department, but he is useful. Step up recruitment efforts. And when he finally does join us outright, enroll him in etiquette with the Countess."

Chase chuckled. "Oh, I think he'd be a nice addition to the school, don't you?"

Dr. Three placed the letter back on his desk and began flipping through the file. It was perfectly formatted. It could have been written by logistics. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Brendan. First, we'll deal with these twins of Kurst's. I think Yassen could use the assignment."

Yassen needed extra assassination assignments like a shark needed another row of teeth, but he was great at the sensitive assignments, so Chase didn't argue.

Alex had just landed in South America and was now taking a taxi to meet Antonio when his phone buzzed. He wasn't expecting Ian's frantic begging for at least another few hours, so he checked the phone from Yassen.

-A

Why did I just get a super sensitive assignment based on information from "Alec Pierre"?

-C

Yassen was beyond pissed Alex had pulled anything of this magnitude without consulting him first. Setting the board and the CIA on his enemies?! Was Alex trying to die?! The excuse was exceedingly flimsy at best.

-C

I imagine that Chase and Three wanted someone discreet for dealing with the Twins. It's true, though. Everything I wrote was true.

-A

Alex didn't see what the big deal was. Two more crime bosses probably made no difference to Yassen, right? The man didn't care about anyone besides himself and Alex. Alex was sure of that. It wasn't the killing.

-A

Yes, and that might be the only saving grace in all of this. Why did you do it, Alex?

-C

Yassen frowned. He did wonder how Alex was going to justify this. It wasn't like Alex to just betray people to their deaths. Alex was usually a little bit less...cold. More human. More likely to spare others from the board's wrath than set it upon them. What had the targets done?!

-C

Well, Razim's a piece of work and he threatened my family. The Twins are also pretty bad, but a friend discovered they were planning a little ransom stunt with some of my blue blood friends. Plus, they sound terrible to work for and I wouldn't want you to suffer.

-A

Alex shrugged. Yassen could believe what he wanted, but "I'm from the future and they'll try to kill me" was probably not going to land him anywhere except kidnapped into therapy for delusions.

-A

Alex...you're a sentimental idiot.

-C

Yassen felt his lips twitch at the text message. Oh, Alex… He was an idiot, but he was Yassen's idiot. Well, he would be, provided Nile didn't fuck it up. Yassen inhaled. Well, he could at least help Alex by playing along for now.

-C

That may be, but I'm your idiot.

-A

Alex grinned at his reply. Poor Yassen probably wouldn't know how to handle it. Emotions and all such terrible things. This was more fun than he'd thought it would be. Alex closed his phone and stepped out of the taxi.

Antonio rarely did meet-ups in person anymore, but he'd made an exception for Alex. He carefully examined the boy as he approached. Alex looked...thin, almost muscular. Antonio barely kept from gaping as Alex got closer. Antonio had never seen a child with actual muscle mass before. What had Ian done to him?! Alex had circles under his eyes. Antonio decided to wait to comment. "Alex."

Alex's eyes fixed him with an intense stare. A faint gleam of madness touched in the brown. "Antonio."

The drug kingpin rose. "Come. We have much to discuss."

Alex followed him. Antonio took his bag. It didn't sit well with him to let any child do actual work in front of him. Alex sat in the car next to him and traced the recently-shined leather and stainless-steel trimmings he'd had polished this morning. "So, what's the deal here?"

Antonio arched a brow and pulled out several burritos he'd had the cook make them. "Eat, Alex, you look dead."

Alex's lips twitched and he took a bite. "This, after I fly thousands of miles to see you? See if I ever visit again."

Antonio laughed despite his concern. "You have options, Alex. I will not pressure you one way or another."

Alex looked skeptical, but Antonio knew of no way to reassure him. "Uh, huh. What options?"

Antonio paused. "You can stay with me as my son. I'd care for you as my own. Be a father to you in the best way I know how. I would shelter you, provide for you, and generally educate and help you until you were ready to take over my empire."

Alex raised an eyebrow. He was not a child. "And the other option?"

Antonio looked pained. "You come here as my partner. We wage war on the CIA, the other cartels, and anyone else who stands in the way of a peaceful, secure society."

Alex opened his mouth. "Decide after dinner. You look like you could use a day of rest. I'll have everyone over and they'll give us both updates. Then you can decide based on the state of things whether you want to join in or not."

Alex sat back. Waiting wouldn't kill him, he supposed. "Alright."

The car stopped. Antonio stepped out. "Welcome back, Alex. Your room is the same as last time."

Alex followed him. It didn't take him long to shower and pass out on his bed.

Alex woke to Miguel goggling at him in his room. "Uh, Hi."

Miguel sat down at his desk chair. Alex thought he seemed a bit sulky. Miguel replied. "Hello."

Alex sighed. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are we going to play the guessing game?"

Miguel huffed. "Isn't it obvious?! You get to sit in on Father's business meeting and I don't!"

Alex rubbed his eyes. What was it with him and rich dudes' sons? "Don't you get it, Miguel. He's letting me sit in because he likes me less than you!"

Miguel stared. "What...What do you mean?"

Alex sighed. How did he explain this to Miguel? "Your father plans to leave me his crime empire, but he's going to leave you all of his money. He's setting you up for a life of royalty and giving me all the work, you see."

Miguel squinted at him. "I guess. Why is he including you in all of this?"

Alex shrugged. To be honest, he didn't know that himself. Then again, he kind of understood it. "The criminal world needs stability. I can give it stability. He doesn't want you to have the life of a crime lord because he knows it would cause you pain. Your father, Antonio, knows that I can take the pain better than you. I've been in pain my whole life, but you haven't and you don't have to be. For him, this is the best way to ensure that people don't suffer and his son has a better life."

Miguel looked torn. "Why would I let you take what is supposed to be my burden?"

Alex looked at Miguel. He'd just assumed the boy had an obsession he'd get over eventually. This was a little softer than an obsession, though. Was Miguel becoming his friend? "Because. I can handle it better than you. Also, Antonio knows I'll protect you after he's gone."

Miguel looked at him. "Why would you do a stupid thing like that?"

Alex felt his lips twitch. Did all the sociopaths in his life need to question his choices this week? "Sentiment. I find that I'd rather not see you suffer. Plus, I've seen people in your position forced into taking over the family business. It never ends well. Never."

Miguel's eyes widened almost comically. "What...What happened?"

Alex shook his head. "Three dead. One alcoholic. One sex addict. A few others I'd rather not remember."

Miguel's mouth was hanging open. "Really? How many dead people do you know?"

Alex felt his face snap shut. "Miguel."

The boy seemed to know he'd asked a question that crossed the line. "I'm sorry, Alex. I was just curious."

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I lost count. But some of those people include my parents."

Miguel frowned and reached out to pat Alex sympathetically. Alex barely restrained his flinch. He wasn't used to being touched by strangers. "I'm sorry about your parents, Alejandro."

Alex got a sudden idea for his next alias. He was tempted to shrug off the hand but didn't want to make enemies. The last thing he needed was a power struggle. "It's alright, Miguel. You didn't know."

Miguel paused. "I guess this seems pretty stupid."

Alex shook his head. "It's never stupid to express your feelings. Everyone questions whether their parents love them sometimes. If it's any consolation, I think Antonio loves you very much. I'm usually pretty good at telling, too."

Miguel squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, Alejandro. Dinner will start soon, so I'll let you change now."

With that, Miguel left him. Alex sighed and changed into a very nice suit. It seemed to be a local brand and made of wool sourced from South America. Alex felt his lips twitch. Trust Antonio to support local companies.

Alex was getting twitchy a few hours into the reports. It was all pretty much the same, but Alex knew he needed to remember everything in excruciating detail. The only good thing about hearing all the reports was that Alex knew Antonio took to dining with all of his business partners. Which meant it would be easy to poison all of the problematic ones. Alex wondered if he could pull off getting all of them at once. It might work. He could convince the man to hold a massive banquet. Alex was sure Antonio would go with his plan if the timing was appropriate. There were other issues. Like the CIA bases in South America. Alex had been surprised to learn there were any but hadn't let it show. "And who the hell is that kid?"

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "That is none of your business, Card."

Card glared at Antonio. "The hell it isn't. You said your operation had no kids."

Antonio stepped slightly closer to Alex. "Alejandro, my second son, is the heir to my empire. Miguel will handle the money, naturally."

Card raised an eyebrow. "If that kid ain't pure Anglo, I'll eat my boots."

Antonio's eyes narrowed, but Card continued on his diatribe. "What's a Mexican like you doing with a white kid? You should let him be with his kind."

Alex had just about had enough. "Excuse me, you racist fuck. Maybe Antonio did adopt me. Maybe I don't want to go back to 'my own kind', as you put it, because of your blatant racism, xenophobia, and sexism. Maybe I've finally found a place to be myself. Fuck you, Card!"

Antonio bit back a laugh at Card's expression. "Alejandro's paternity notwithstanding, I believe you have other things to report."

Card sighed and seemed to let it go, but continued to creepily eye Alex through the entire report. The rest of it seemed to go without a hitch. Drugs. Money. Weapons. More money. Alex found these meetings to be surprisingly boring. Alex was more interested in the CIA half of it because he'd have to take it over with a combination of force and diplomacy. He was unsure whether it would be more force or more diplomacy. Card would probably have to go. Maybe his second-in-command? Alex made a mental note to ask. After the meeting finally ended. Antonio paused. "So, what do you think?"

Alex sighed. "We can't use pure force. I think we need more information to take over since we can't win an outright civil war."

Antonio looked amused. "I mean, Alex, what do you think?"

Alex thought about it. He didn't like the CIA cooperating with the cartels. He hated the fact that Ian had helped this happen. And, frankly, this would piss off the rest of the "not-so-good" guys that had wronged him in the past life. "I'm in."

Antonio sighed heavily. He'd had a feeling Alex would say that. "Your education and experience begin tomorrow, then. We'll start with intelligence reports."

Alex mentally groaned but felt the burning, seething rage at Ian burn away most of his reluctance. "Alright then."

Antonio sighed. "If you ever want out, just say so."

Alex shrugged. "I won't, but thank you. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Antonio looked older than Alex had seen. "We'll be continuing your education. I won't have an illiterate partner."

Alex shrugged. "I guess there'll be a lot of tests tomorrow, then."

Antonio chuckled. "Don't worry, I have private tutors covered if there is a need."

Alex was reminded once again that Ian hadn't bothered. Instead, he'd just left Alex to self-study and occasionally tested him. "I want self-defense lessons, Antonio."

Antonio chuckled. "Naturally. I'm no expert, but we do have them here."

Alex let out a mental sigh of relief. It was good to have someone listen to his requests and not fucking argue. Antonio paused. "Is there anything else?"

Alex shrugged. "Not now, I might ask for specifics later."

Antonio looked at him. There was something close to pity in his eyes. "Do you have a chosen profession? A dream?"

Alex froze. "I would have liked to be a surgeon."

Antonio looked at him. "You know, I can make arrangements to continue the academic end of things. I'll gather some medical professionals. You can learn battle medicine first, but that doesn't mean you can't expand on your education."

Alex leaned on the table. "Thank you, Antonio."

Antonio's eyes narrowed. "It's what your guardian should have done. It's what any responsible adult should have done."

Alex perked up. "One other thing. We may or may not be meeting and kidnapping my shrink."

Antonio's lips twitched. "That I can assist you with."

Alex glared. "Is something funny?"

Antonio chuckled. "Go to sleep, Alex, you'll understand when you're older."

Alex sighed loudly and went upstairs with his usual soundless walk. Bedtime.

Note: I debated publishing this chapter, because it does touch on racial issues. I am not against interracial adoption at all, but given the time the series takes place in (AR supposedly takes place in 2001, this would be in the nineties or earlier), I have a hard time believing some of the characters would not be openly racist.