Chapter 65: Consequences and Confidence

Alex was cornered by Ms. Davis of all people. "Can I help you?"

The woman wrung her hands nervously. "Well, er, Lance briefed us on the events yesterday and I was wondering if you needed someone to talk to."

Alex barely kept from reacting as the guilt stabbed him in the chest. Davis was being so damn nice and he was planning to betray her. Maybe. Maybe he could recruit her. She didn't seem very happy with the current state of her job. "I'm fine. I've got Belinda."

Ms. Davis frowned. "Really? Forgive me, but Belinda seems...emotionally cold."

Alex felt his lips twitching. He was touched, he was. "She's warmer once you get to know her."

Ms. Davis frowned. "Really, you're feeling no distress at all?"

Alex blinked. "I feel a little guilty, sure, but I'm not seeing why this is any of your business."

Ms. Davis frowned. "I'm normally in charge of the younger group. I'm just concerned...Lance isn't exactly what I'd called a sympathetic parental figure."

Alex sighed. "He's still better than my last one."

Ms. Davis' tone turned dry. "That isn't a high bar if the rumors are true."

Alex huffed. He'd die before he said that aloud. "What about you?"

Ms. Davis blinked. "What about me?"

Alex took her hand. "Are you happy, Ms. Davis?"

The woman looked shocked. "It's been many- It's not- It's complicated, Xander."

Alex blinked. "That's not an answer. Are. You. Happy."

Ms. Davis sighed. "That's a private answer."

Alex quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

Ms. Davis sighed. "Come to my office hours."

Xander felt puzzled. "Okay, They're at eleven?"

Ms. Davis waved her hand to dismiss him. Alex felt a sense of foreboding but went to lunch. About five minutes later, Ms. Davis showed up with red eyes and a red nose. Alex pretended not to notice. Eric and Madison were back to clinging like a pair of leeches. He had a sinking suspicion Davis might have dropped them a few choice hints. It wasn't like he minded the snuggles, but after the two workout sessions, those two were rather heavy. Lance cut in. "Alright, you two, off."

Madison and Eric got off almost instantly. Alex saw their wide, terrified eyes and gave them both a reassuring pat. Alex went off to class, as usual. Now he just had to wait for the end of the day. Davis was going to be interesting.

Alex showed up at office hours at eleven o'clock at night. Ms. Davis seemed a little nervous. "Hello, Xander."

Alex was surprised at the underlying warmth of the tone. "Ms. Davis. So, you were saying earlier."

The woman sat down next to him. "It's a very personal question, Xander."

The woman opened a cupboard. "Why don't we have some tea?"

Alex's hand wandered instantly to the British tea. "Uh, sure. What kind?"

Ms. Davis's tone was still warm. "Whichever one you like."

Alex shrugged and grabbed the British tea. Call him sentimental. Besides, he wasn't as bad as Yu. It wasn't British cheese, after all. Ms. Davis started the kettle. "Well, to start with, this job honestly wasn't what I was expecting."

Alex felt his mouth twist wryly. "Things are rarely what we expect."

Ms. Davis paused. "Originally, I thought we would be raising children, not weapons, you know."

Alex watched her put a hand on her mouth. "I kind of figured. There's something else that's bothering you, isn't there?"

Ms. Davis's voice was very small. "A few things. For one, while we do set up our retiring members for life, the last year fatality rate is...unusually high. Also, well, I'm uncomfortable with your age and the fact that you're already on missions."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Ms. Davis coughed awkwardly. "We usually save the more savage classes and actual missions for the older half of our students, as you probably noticed."

Alex shrugged. "You do know I've killed people before now, right?"

Ms. Davis sipped her tea and pursed her lips. "I'm aware."

Alex blinked. "I've killed a lot of people, Davis. I'm probably going to keep killing people."

Ms. Davis looked at him. "Xander, if I truly cared about your body count, I would have asked. Be as that may, you are still twelve and I still think we should have waited at least a few more months. You desperately lack stability."

Alex took a sip of tea and felt a stab of homesickness. He decided to interrupt the responsible adult tirade. "So, do you want to find out if your suspicions have merit?"

Ms. Davis froze. "And, so, what if they did?"

Alex looked at her and leaned in close enough to whisper inaudibly. "If you're right, you can join me. Bring the other teachers to our side that you think will come."

Ms. Davis started but replied in an equally low tone. "You're not a terrorist and you're not with us. Whose side are you on?"

Alex finished his tea and spoke aloud. "The third one, Ms. Davis. My own."

With that, he exited the room and left her to think.

Ms. Davis felt herself draw a few shuddering breaths. Once upon a time she had been an analyst. Then she had taken this job. It was considered extremely prestigious at the time. There had been round after round after round of assessments. Then, there had been little niggling things. Like how they seemed to last until the final year of their program and then the death rate spiked. The fact that she never heard from any former students nor found mention of them in the places she'd expect. Also, the identities they supposedly created for alumni were either flawless or nonexistent. She was suspicious but had never really checked very closely. The keycard that gave her access to records was in her hand. Ms. Davis, not that that was her real name, slid the card in. Fortunately, the records were paper, so nobody could see what she was reading. Card would likely assume she was scouring Alex's file for information out of maternal concern. She did it often enough. The file room had no cameras for several reasons. Mostly because Card didn't want bits of the files accidentally recorded Also, her boss was paranoid about hackers. It had gotten worse in the past two years, with the creation of the Pierre identities. The camera issues MI6 and Japan had experienced had not exactly helped. Ms. Davis grabbed about ten files on students. Half who had died in their last year and half who had supposedly been sent on their merry way. On her way out, she ran into Allen, not that it was the woman's real name either. "Reminiscing?"

Davis flushed. "Maybe."

Allen was kind of a bitchy cunt, unless you were highly skilled at combat. Davis was not highly skilled in combat. "How did your meeting with Xander go?"

She sighed. "He seems only slightly unsettled, but fine otherwise. It's strange."

Allen raised an eyebrow. "To you, perhaps."

Davis frowned. "He seems like a sweet, caring boy to me."

Allen snorted loudly. "That means nothing. Even sociopaths are utterly charming when they want to be."

Davis flushed. "Xander is sincere."

Allen arched a brow. "Is he, now?"

Ms. Davis tossed her hair. "He's not a complete sociopath."

Allen shrugged. "It is always a spectrum."

Ms. Davis sighed. "Well, if you want to complain, you can help me carry these files to my room."

Allen took the files. "So, what did you two talk about?"

Ms. Davis reflected, rather wryly, that this was like a bitchy little expensive private school sometimes.

Alex sighed as he got back to his room. Lance scrutinized him. "Davis? Really, Xany? She's soft."

Alex arched a brow. "Exactly. She gets attached to people. Davis is probably still pretty upset over all those dead child operatives she had plenty of time to get attached to."

Lance looked thoughtful. "I didn't think of that."

Alex rolled his eyes. "That's because you have negative empathy."

Lance gaped and then started laughing. "There's the kid I know. I was starting to get worried about you. I mean, no snark?"

Alex shrugged. "Sometimes I'm too depressed for that shit."

Larry shrugged. "Fair enough. Do you want a beer or something?"

Alex snorted. "Dude, I'm twelve."

Lance grinned. "It never stopped me."

Alex retorted. "Yeah, and look what it did to your brain development."

A pillow sailed past his head. Alex picked up a pillow from the couch. It hit Lance with a faint thump. The man grinned. A pillow fight was shut down by Belinda walking in. Alex hid the pillow behind his back. "Dr. Mordant."

The blonde seemed thoroughly amused. "Xander." Belinda snorted. "Have fun, boys. I better not get hit by a pillow."

The second Belinda turned her back, Lance chucked a pillow straight at her head. The blonde whipped around. "Lance!"

The man smiled. Belinda picked up the pillows and threw it at him before walking to her room. Lance huffed. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Somebody has a crush."

Lance smacked him lightly. "Shut up."

Alex rolled his eyes. "If you want to attract her, you're going to have to do better than that."

Lance looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Alex shrugged. "She already knows you're very manly and probably make decent money. Now you need to show her that you can be nice and cultured."

Lance blinked. "Nice? Cultured? I'm an assassin."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Buddy, just take her to a science fiction movie and a really expensive dinner. And, for the love of God, let the waiter pick the wine."

Lance let out a sigh. "I can do that."

The man paused in his musings. "Do you think she'd go out with me? I mean, she has a doctorate and I was sent to jail in like middle school."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Eh, probably. Besides, her last date was a man who lied to her for nearly a decade and turned out to be a serial killing cannibal who was super classy on the surface. After that, I think she'll respect your honesty."

Lance grinned. "I might just do that."

Alex decided to go to bed before Lance talked about anything that might leave him with scarring mental images.

Rhea was frustrated. Female SCORPIA agents were "highly recommended" to be on long-term birth control or medically sterilized. Her career was going well, besides a few minor...women's health issues. Male agents were given the option of a vasectomy, of course. "Are you sure nothing is wrong?"

The nurse frowned at her. "We'll run some tests, but since your implant was placed in your arm two years ago, your bleeding shouldn't be too irregular. If it happens again, we can remove it and talk about your other options."

Rhea had not exactly been thrilled when her birth control implant had caused her to have a six-week period. The nurse had said it was not that uncommon, but the implant would have to be removed if the bleeding didn't stop after two months. Then her period had stopped for almost two full years before she spotted irregularly again. This time, for two weeks. It was irksome. It did not help her concentration for sniping. The nurse's expression softened as she drew her blood. "If the cramps are debilitating, we can do a further examination. There are certain conditions that might affect your future health, especially if you ever want children. Er, not that it's required. It's perfectly fine to never want children."

Rhea interrupted before the nurse could nervously ramble further. "It's fine. They're simply...irritating."

The woman finished taking her blood. "Well, err, you could always find a masseuse or something. The female orgasm can also help alleviate the cramps if they're purely muscular."

Rhea resisted a flush. "I'm not ready for men."

The nurse blinked. "Sex toys are also an option. I like vibrators, but…"

Rhea had a feeling this was going to be a long awkward visit to the clinic as a faint blush rose to her cheeks.

Alex woke up to three adults waiting for him in the living room. "What the hell, guys?"

Lance opened his mouth. "Well, you're twelve now and we decided to talk-"

Alex held up a hand. "I'm going to stop you right there. Safe sex? STD's? Consent? Birth control?"

Lance squinted. "Uhhh, yes."

Alex snorted. "I've had the talk. In excruciating detail. Thank you. I'm going to eat my breakfast and look none of you in the eyes for the rest of the day now."

Lance shrugged and looked very relieved. "Cool with me."

Micheal was staring into his plate. Belinda was looking thoroughly amused by the entire spectacle. Alex knew an actual teen would be awkward, but was internally laughing his ass off. So, murder is fine, but the second you bring up sex, it's awkward? This was so...American of them. Alex got up. "Excuse for a minute."

Alex got up and walked to his room. He embraced Fenrir and then laughed hysterically into the wolf's fur. It was a few minutes before someone came for him. Alex choked back a laugh and set his face into a neutral expression. It was Belinda. "Draw the short straw, did we?"

The blonde woman rolled her eyes. "Americans."

That was all that needed to be said by either of them. Alex shrugged and followed her out. Xander had a sinking suspicion that Belinda knew exactly what he'd been doing. It wasn't that the topic at hand was funny. It was just...humorously normal to the backdrop of assassin school. The fact that they got breakfast in their apartment suggested that the school thought it was a big deal. Card was eyeing them all curiously when Alex stepped out. Alex arched a brow. "Is there something you need, Card?"

The eyes blinked at him. "Actually, yes. My office, all of you, now."

Alex followed the man into his office. Card turned on the TV. It was Alex's face. Card turned off the TV. "I'm sure you get the idea. The real questions here are why and why now."

Alex was very confused. "I honestly thought nobody would report me missing."

Alex was treated to the appalled and horrified looks of four adults. The dots on the floor were fascinating. "We're going to discuss options here."

Alexander looked genuinely worried. Card sighed. "You're too young for plastic surgery, in all honesty."

Card opened a file. "We have several other options, but none of them are great."

Xander blinked. "Like what?"

Card heaved a moderately heavy chest onto his desk. Xander moved to help him. "This is a nearly complete disguise box. You can practice with Lance in your mentorship hour. It'll work for short term stuff."

Card looked at the file. "There's a surgery that will turn your eyes blue, but it's permanent and our faculty is uncomfortable with that."

Alex shifted. Card took that to mean he was overtly uncomfortable with that option, not that he blamed the kid. To be honest, eye stuff made him squeamish. It had been him who nixed the idea. "There are more experimental options, but I'm thoroughly against all of them."

Alex visibly cringed at that. Belinda cut in, her eyes like chips of ice. "Given his experience with his relatives, I would not recommend medical experiments of any kind."

Card sighed heavily. He hadn't exactly wanted to believe the worst of Ian Rider. Besides, some of this shit made him go squick inside. It was fucking creepy. And maybe he felt mildly protective. Alex was so young. "I happen to agree with you here."

Alex was visibly relieved, not that Card blamed him. Plastic surgery was hideously painful and carried several risks. Also, being a lab rat was never fun. Card turned his gaze on Alex. "How do you want this handled?"

Alex blinked. "What do you mean?"

Card shrugged. "Do you want me to go to bat for you?"

Alex shrugged. "Keep them away from me, but don't start a war or anything."

Card shut the folder. "I'll keep that in mind. Dismissed. Xander, stay behind."

The adults looked unhappy but filed out.

Alex felt his nervousness increase ten-fold. Card spoke up. "I...don't normally handle this sort of thing, but...how are you setting in?"

Alex had a sinking suspicion that the man was dancing around a different question, but decided to humor him for now. "It's fine. Err...I like it here."

Card looked relieved. "Good, good." The man coughed awkwardly. Alex got the distinct feeling that Card was emotionally stunted and awkward at discussing feelings. Or he was getting suspicious. Alex felt the dread pool in his stomach. "Xander, I want to ask this in the nicest, most sensitive way possible." There was a pause. Alex felt himself begin to panic. "How bad was your home life?"

Alex opened his mouth and closed it. Well, it was better than "are you a traitor". The hysterical laughter bubbled up within him before he could restrain it. This was the man he was supposed to betray. Fuck. Card was looking alarmed at his reaction. Nobody had ever fucking asked. Card looked hesitant. Alex felt rather than saw the slap. He immediately sobered up. "Sorry, nobody ever bothered asking before."

Card sighed. "I'm sorry for slapping you, but I had no idea what else to do."

Alex wiped tears of...mirth off of his face. "Uh, well. It wasn't too bad. Ian was away a lot, so he hired somebody to look after me. The academic and athletic expectations were more challenging than here. Uh, my aunt kind of slashed me once. I think they've all committed at least one war crime in front of me. And, well, I've been...altered."

Card swallowed and rubbed his eyes. "I see. Can I get you any more support? We have excellent counseling services. I'm sure we could try for a support grou-"

Alex held up a hand. "I'm good, thank you."

Card looked distinctly relieved. It was probably less paperwork. No way the man would care about him. "Okay. I'll take your word for it." Alex mentally breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure he was good enough to fake it for therapy. "But, if I see one single sign of mental deterioration, I'm calling in so many specialists that your head will spin." Alex raised an eyebrow at the man, who chuckled. "Kid, homicidal teens are scary enough. We don't need more bullshit." Alex sat stupefied in his chair. "All right, Xander, get out of my office. And don't forget your disguise kit!"

Alex would have forgotten the disguise kit. He picked up the chest and walked out, failing to notice Card's look directed at his back. It was a look of curiosity. After all, the chest was far heavier than Alex should be able to lift without trouble.

When Alex walked out, all of the adults mobbed him. "What did he want?"

Alex was surprised that it was Micheal, not Larry, who was asking. "Er, he wanted to ask if I was alright."

Lance huffed. "He must actually like you. Card never asked about my welfare."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You'd be offended if he did, now wouldn't you?"

Lance scowled. They both knew Alex was right. "That's not the point."

Belinda looked amused at Lance getting huffy. The blond woman offered her hand. "Walk with me."

Alex took it. They left the building through an unfamiliar door, leaving two men with confused expressions behind him. Alex felt guilt beginning to gnaw at him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Belinda looked at him. "Oh?"

Alex crossed his arms. "I like them, the people here."

Belinda shrugged. "You can be fond of someone and still kill them."

Alex huffed. "Since when? I'm not a bloody sociopath!"

Belinda offered him her arm. "You are and will never be cut out for deep cover work, but I think you knew that already."

Alex felt himself beginning to tear up and forced it down. He was going to have a stomachache. "I know."

Belinda's face softened and Alex was unexpectedly pulled into a hug. Alex buried his face in her shoulder. Soft delicate hands traced their way through his hair. Belinda spoke in a barely audible whisper. "You'll be fine, Alex."

Lance picked that moment to interrupt them. "Why does he get hugs and not me?"

Belinda smirked. "Because I know for a fact and can confirm he showers regularly."

Lance looked outraged. "We all shower twice a day!"

Alex felt himself laugh despite everything else going on. Belinda and Lance didn't seem to notice. Micheal gave him a bemused look. "Let's go back in."

They left the adults to it.

Patrick opened the report he'd finally got his hands on. The first few paragraphs made him prouder than he would ever admit. However, when he got to the last of Belinda's notes, he paused. "Alex Rider, as he prefers to be known, is thoroughly unsuited to long term deep cover."

Patrick inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. Why hadn't she talked him out of it, then? Patrick would be the first to admit that if you had his psych profile from that age side-by-side with Alex's, they would be indistinguishable. The one time he'd done long term undercover...well, he still saw their faces, even though it was over a century ago. The genetic modification afforded them quite a few advantages, including an extended lifespan, but it didn't remove that much of your humanity. Some family members were simply more sociopathic than others. Patrick grit his teeth. He would just have to hope Belinda was as good as her file had claimed to be. Marion was hovering, again. Patrick found the pace of her attachment to Alex a little disturbing. "Well?"

Patrick shook his head. "It's not going to be pretty."

Marion huffed. "You're hoarding information again."

Patrick arched a brow. "I think you and Ian have made enough messes where Alex is involved, thank you."

Marion practically hissed. "I blame Ian for this. He didn't warn Alex, there was no explanation or preamble-"

Patrick cut her off with a glare. "Both of you are banned from alone time with him until further notice for a reason, little miss war crimes."

Marion huffed. "Hypocrite!"

Patrick snorted. "At least I refrained from, oh, executing prisoners and mass-murdering children in front of him."

Marion scowled. "They were clones."

Patrick sighed. "They were Alex's age."

Marion paused. "He said he forgave me!"

Patrick closed the file as Marion approached his desk. "Forgave, perhaps, but I doubt he forgot that you were capable of murdering young children his age."

Marion growled. "You've done way worse things than me!"

Patrick shrugged. "Yes, but not in front of the children. Also, remind me, how many times has Alex had to save your asses?"

Marion glared. "That wasn't my fault!"

Patrick glared. "Yes, it was. You and Ian need to get over your little habit of refusing to take the blame for anything that goes wrong that you should have foreseen!"

Marion huffed. "Not everyone is a tactical genius!"

Patrick snapped. "Maybe not, but I expect a modicum of common fucking sense!"

Marion stomped out. Patrick figured that she had realized she wasn't going to get her way for once. There was no way he was letting her near Alex unsupervised anymore.

John Crawley was, well, unhappy. Ian was kind of a wreck and he was at a loss. Jack and Tom were quietly seething about something. Ian wasn't talking about it. The man's last missions had been bloody and explosive. John walked up to Ian and put an arm around him. Ian brightened slightly. "John."

He looked into the deep brown eyes. "Ian."

The man embraced him fully. Crawley felt the frame of the man against him. Ian had been working out more, lately. Under normal circumstances, he'd be encouraging that change, but Crawley had a feeling Ian was using it as an escape. "You're not yourself, Ian."

Ian huffed. "Of course, I'm not myself! Alex is gone! Gone! He's in an unstable warzone!"

The man burst into tears. Crawley held the man. Ian continued. "He's only twelve. He's only twelve."

They stood there a while together. The door banged open. Jack's mouth opened at the sight of them. "Alex sent Tom a postcard."

Ian stiffened against Crawley. John ran his hands through Ian's hair. "Maybe in a little while."

Ian moved to pull away, but Crawley made sure to lock his arms around Ian. The man could break his hold if he wanted to, but Ian wouldn't hurt him like that. Jack eyed their position. "Alright, then. Tom stuck it on the mantle."

The door shut. "Why'd you stop me from going?"

John gave Ian a look. "You need to slow down and take a breath."

Ian snuggled up to him. "It was nice, you should do that more often."

John raised an eyebrow but decided not to question his partner's mood swings. Ian was still breathing hard from his crying fit. John felt a familiar twinge start in his leg and mentally cursed. "Ian, I need to sit."

Ian released him. John sat on the couch and was surprised when Ian plopped himself in his lap. "This is nice too."

John blinked. He saw the almost black shadows under Ian's eyes. "You're a mess, Ian."

Ian blinked and John was reminded of a sleepy cat. "Oh, but you like me anyway."

John rubbed Ian's back and kissed him on the forehead. "Yes, god help me."

Ian slumped against him. It took Crawley a bit to realize that Ian had just fallen asleep.

Alex woke up the next day with a feeling of dread. Fenrir whined. It was the beginning of another long day. Alex hastily dressed, even though he knew Lance would bring him food if he missed breakfast. Belinda was sitting on the couch. Alex felt like her sleep schedule was deeply unnatural. "Do you ever actually sleep?"

Belinda got up and stretched, smirking. "Yes."

Alex rolled his eyes. A pillow hit him in the face. "What was that for?"

Belinda arched a brow. "Don't think I didn't see that eye roll."

Lance huffed. "Did you just roll your eyes at Belinda?"

Alex blinked. "Lance, you took me on a fucking assassination mission."

Lance grinned. "That's no excuse to be rude!"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Don't you constantly call your colleagues losers within earshot?"

Lance made a noise in the back of his throat. "That's not the point!"

Alex grinned and retorted in a singsong voice. "Hypocrite."

Lance grabbed him. "Insufferable brat."

Alex blinked. "You like me, though."

Lance snorted as he all but dragged Alex to breakfast. "Unfortunately."

Alex felt like whining. "Laaaance."

Lance groaned. "Please stop."

Alex smirked. "Why, did you get drunk, stay up late, and screw my shrink by accident?"

Alex heard sharp intakes of breath from the people in the cafeteria. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

Alex let out a shriek. "That was a joke!"

Lance's look was a little too gleeful. "Well, that's a shame."

Alex covered his ears. "My innocent ears."

Lance retorted. "Innocent my ass! You and Micheal make lewd jokes every time you think we aren't listening!"

Card was looking fairly alarmed. "Break it up, you two. No fighting in the cafeteria."

Larry pouted. "We were bickering, ya dipshit."

Card's eye twitched. "Shut the fuck up and sit down, Lance."

Lance grinned. "Sure thing, boss."

The rest of breakfast was eaten silently.

Archer and Aiden approached him after his private ballet lessons. Xander was a little surprised. The other children had been quite a bit more reticent than Ken, Abigail, Eric, and Madison. Alex had mentally nicknamed those two "the twins" because they always seemed to hang out together. Also, they appeared to be the same height and age. "Er, hi."

Alex cursed mentally. He was fucking twenty mentally and still didn't know how to talk to people. "Hello, Xander."

Alex thought them speaking together was fucking creepy. "Do you need help with your homework?"

Alex was grasping at straws here. They were heading to the locker room, for god's sake. "Not exactly."

Alex was trying not to be creeped out, he really was. This was almost as bad as Julius. Archer and Aiden were at the age where Alex wasn't sure if they had murdered anyone or not. The school was kind of weird that way. The two followed him on his jog. Alex wondered if he shouldn't palm his knife now. "What's it like? Killing people?"

Alex's creep-dar was not being quieted. He guessed that they hadn't been "on-assignment" before, then. "Bloody."

Alex increased his speed deliberately. Archer sped up. "C'mon, none of the older students will say anything. How come you got a real assignment before us?"

Alex tended to forget that some of the kids competed for and wanted assignments at these sorts of places. "Uh, because I killed people before coming here."

Archer joined them. Alex could see them beginning to tire. "You must like it then."

Alex stopped and the two nearly crashed into him. "No, I don't. I'm just good at it."

Alex started running again, this time going full speed so those two couldn't keep up with him. It was the first time he was grateful for the injections Ian had given him. The rest of his classmates stared a bit but wisely didn't say anything. It would be rude, and Ms. Davis would calmly lecture at them. Ms. Allen seemed to notice what was going on and put Aiden and Archer in the back of the line for practice for the day. The two boys did not look at all pleased. Allen held him back after class. "Have they been bothering you?"

Alex looked at the woman. Thankfully, his next class was after lunch. "They seem a little obsessed with killing people."

Allen pinched the bridge of her nose. "They're jealous and a touch overeager."

Alex bit his lower lip. "They haven't-"

Allen shook her head. "No."

The woman's face softened from steel to granite. "Go to lunch, Xander."

Alex walked off. Allen was okay, in her terse little way.

Jet was frowning. "He's not replying as much."

Gordon plopped himself down. "Still longing after the old white dude?"

Jet arched a brow. "Yes, well, he, unlike you, is quite funny."

Gordon pouted. "I'm funny."

Jet snorted. "Also, Professor Emrys has a doctorate."

Gordon huffed. "What are you going to do? Have sex with his diploma?"

Jet slapped him. "I am enjoying a professional relationship and friendship with an intellectual equal."

Her cheeks were dark. Gordon smirked. "Suuure."

Jet glared. "He sent me such wonderful samples from the Amazon."

Gordon grinned. "Oooh, he sent you flowers. He's in loooove."

Jet gave up on smacking Gordon and hit him with her lunch tray instead. "It was a corpse-flower."

Gordon cackled. "It'll help cover up the smell of the rotting housewives you poison for being too snotty when you get married and retire."

Jet glared at him. "Gordon, I am going to pick the nastiest, most deadly flower I own-"

Jet cut herself off as Doctor Three entered. "Greetings."

The man sat next to Jet and Gordon, both of whom paled. "Afternoon, Doctor."

The man looked at Jet. "I heard from the package office that you have a new acquaintance."

Jet looked down at her plate. "It's not like he knows who I am really."

Three gave her a look. "He sent you plant samples. Illegally smuggled plant samples. And somehow got his hands on our address."

Jet flushed. "Oh."

Three glanced at her. "Yes, oh."

Jet gulped. "Fortunately for you, he passed our clearance check. Don't let it happen again."

The man rose. "Also, you are responsible for his execution, should he put together who you are."

Jet swallowed as Doctor Three walked off. Gordon was equally pale. After all, the only reason Three would let him listen in was that the warning was for both of them.

Charles was about halfway to his destination before he had to start changing his appearance to match Maddox's papers. Charles figured it was a reasonable precaution. He had also started gaining weight again. Being in rural villages tended to cut down on the amount of processed crap you had access to. Charles sighed as he rinsed out the hair dye. It was weird to see his hair all black instead of its natural color. At least the dye wasn't the cheap shit he and his buddies had used for laughs in college. At the rate he was changing colors, it would have made his hair fall out. Charles was almost so unaware of his surroundings that he almost didn't notice the fight that broke out in front of him. It was four on one. Charles knew he shouldn't get involved, but any kind of teaming up on people like that had always ground his gears. Also, the slim, short man looked fragile and already seemed to have a few broken bones. Charles sighed and pulled out his gun. Four people were shot down. The slender man turned around. "You alright, mate?"

The man looked half? A quarter? Chinese. "Ah, a British man."

Charles was surprised to hear an upper-class British accent and mentally whacked himself for being racist. "Dr. Brandon. You can call me Charles." The slim

man shook his hand and winced. "Winston. Are you a medical doctor?"

Charles glanced at the corpses and then at the tiny man in front of him. "Er, I kind of...do medicine for barter. Do you want me to fix you up?"

Winston gave him a slight smile. "That would be nice of you, Charles."

Charles sighed. Winston didn't seem all that threatening. "Alright, let's head back to my place. I'm afraid I can't sedate you safely."

Winston shrugged. "Setting the bones will do fine."

Charles blinked. "Brittle bone disease?"

Winston sighed. "Yes."

Charles mentally groaned. "Yeah, it's good to know. I might have accidentally broken something else setting it otherwise."

Winston looked startled at that. "Were you in the army, by any chance?"

Charles sighed. "Yes."

Winston shrugged. "It shows."

Charles felt a little huffy but opened the door to his place.

Winston Yu was surprised. First by the attack in the alley and then by the way it had ended. It wasn't often that he was without his many guards, but occasionally he had reason to be without them. Winston didn't dare ask Charles, if that was his real name, about his motivation in saving him, let alone treating him. The man was easily a foot taller and at least fifty kilograms of muscle heavier. Winston couldn't be sure it wasn't a set-up by one of his more devious colleagues, but, as Charles delicately strapped him down and explained what was going to happen, he was oddly reassured. Charles seemed to have at least at one point been a legitimate doctor. Winston knew enough medicine to know when people were bullshitting him. After the last of six bones were set, the man let him up. "Are you in some sort of legal trouble?"

Really, what was a competent doctor doing on the street? Charles laughed. "You could say that. How about this? I won't ask about your dealings with triads and you don't ask about my legal problems."

Winston resisted a pout. Patience is a virtue. "That's no fun."

Charles sighed. "Mate, I'm dropping you off wherever you want and leaving the country tomorrow."

Winston frowned. This man seemed to have genuinely no idea who he was. Then again, he wasn't an open secret like some board members. "Are you in that much trouble?"

Charles shook his head. "A friend is."

Winston eyed the quarters more closely. They were exceptionally clean for this part of town. Charles must have cleaned them himself. "Forget them. Come work for me."

Charles shook his head. "I don't leave people behind."

Winston sighed. "I'm rich."

Charles gave him a derisive look. Winston wondered why it was only after he became wealthy that he met people who didn't care about money. "If I only cared about money, I wouldn't be here, now would I?"

Winston was pretty sure he had offended the man. "I meant no offense."

Charles rubbed his eyes. "Nah, I'm just snappy."

Winston sighed. "Must be some friend."

Charles smiled softly. "The best."

Winston settled into a dingy chair as he considered kidnapping "Charles". It would be so much effort, but potentially worth it. "How did you two meet?"

Charles snorted. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Basically, he found out who killed my father."

Winston had more questions than answers, but Charles walked off. Winston watched the man dye his hair in the sink. He was dodgy.

Charles felt bad about injecting an unknowing patient while setting their bones, but he wasn't about to take any more unwarranted risks. To assuage his guilt, he wrote a note, bought breakfast, and paid the room out for the day. Maddox had sent him so many disapproving texts afterward. Blah, blah, don't save random people, blah, blah. Charles gave no shits. He had morals and he was sticking to them. Besides, he had a train to catch. The airport was too far away in a hot country to walk. Charles couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something he shouldn't have. Oh, well. He refused to watch any more people getting beaten to death in alleys, thank you. Charles handed in his ticket and tuned out the conversations that he didn't understand. It was going to be a long day for him. His phone buzzed.

-C

Seat 32C. Check the armrests.

-M

Charles knew the armrests would contain money, his next identity, and his next set of travel plans. This was getting tiring. He supposed he'd be dying his hair in a train bathroom.

Winston Yu knew he'd been drugged the instant he woke. There was a note on the bedside table.

Winston

I'm sorry for drugging you, but I couldn't take any chances. Breakfast is in the fridge and you have the room for the day. I'll be out of the country by the time you read this. Try not to go in any more dark alleys, okay?

Charles

Despite the circumstances, Winston found himself wanting to laugh out loud. It was the best night of sleep he'd had in nearly three decades. Also, Charles was too nice to be real. After a short call to some subordinates, Winston was back with his very on-edge security in a house he owned. "Yesterday, there was an attempt on my life. It was stopped. Not by you. Not by me. By some random man, I met in the street. Luck. I'm alive due to pure luck. You're lucky it's more trouble than it's worth to fire the lot of you."

There was dead silence. "Now, I want every scrap of information on anyone named Doctor Charles Brandon."

The people scurried off. Yu was unsympathetic. His current head of security had already been taken care of. He had a certain British doctor to look up. A man scurried up to him. "Is this what he looks like?"

Winston blinked. "Yes."

He used his real name?! "Well, uh, he served in the army, got his medical degree, came back home to investigate his father's death, and, apparently, snapped and kidnapped a twelve-year-old and is now wanted by Interpol."

Winston honestly wondered how the man had lasted this long. Charles seemed like a man with morals. "Unofficially, he kidnapped Alex Rider, so god knows what kind of mess he's tangled up in and MI6 wants his head on a platter."

Rider. It had been over a decade since he last heard that name. "Rider?"

The man paled. "Yeah, born to Helen and John Rider, currently being raised by one Ian Rider."

Yu felt a surge of rage at the name. Then again, the boy hadn't done anything. Yet. "And how is that working out?"

There was more typing. "Not well. Alex was on Interpol's wanted list, supposedly for mass murdering CIA operatives, but the...FSB had him removed and reclassified as a kidnapping victim. He's currently missing, no satellite images in the past two months."

Yu blinked. "Files on both of them. My desk. First thing."

What did a supposedly insane ex-army doctor want with a child assassin who was being raised as somebody's weapon gone rogue? "Sir?"

Winston felt his eye twitch. "Yes?"

The man paled under his direct gaze. "Alex Rider is presumed dead."

Yu was not in the mood. "Alex Rider is considered alive until I see his cold corpse myself. Is that clear?"

The man nodded. "Yes, sir."

Yu ignored the squeak at the end of his voice. This was tiring. He was going to his office. There was always more paperwork.

Brendan Chase felt...rejected. Pierre hadn't answered his letters in weeks. Sure, he knew the guy was in South America for "extended business" and would be out of contact for a while. Still, he paid to express goddamn post the letters for a reason. "Nile."

The man shot out of his chair. "Sir."

Chase drummed his fingers against the desk. "Go to South America, find Pierre, and make friends with him."

Nile squirmed. "Uh, how?"

Chase was not in the mood. This was why he needed Pierre. He would bet good money that Pierre had never asked how to do anything in his life. "I don't know, Nile, start with the PO box his bank forwards to. It's your problem now."

Nile looked pensive. "Can I have my combat team?"

Chase squinted at him. "I said make friends with him, not kidnap him."

Nile looked at the man. "He's antisocial."

Chase glared. "You met Pierre?!"

Nile blinked. "Uh, not exactly. Yassen bitches about him constantly. Blah, blah. Unmanageable. Blah, blah."

Chase muttered under his breath. Nile doubted it was flattering things about Yassen. "Wait, Yassen?"

Nile mentally groaned. "What's the big deal?"

Chase squinted at him. "You used to call him Cossack."

Chase looked at him. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but are you two together?"

Nile turned bright red. "NO!"

Chase shrugged. "Just making sure."

Nile sputtered. "What-Why-"

Chase snorted. "Stranger things have happened around here."

Nile had no words. "Now, go find Pierre and get on speaking terms. I doubt communicating with Cossack does good things for the man's sanity."