Chapter 82: Recoveries and Responses

Nile was twitching as he waited outside Chase's hospital room. Thankfully, SCORPIA had a decent hospital nearby and they had flown in poison specialists from Germany. They said Chase would wake up any day now. Nile was rather anxious about it. Despite Chase's best attempts, he still wasn't the greatest at logistics and paperwork. Chase was fairly patient about teaching him, though. It was a nice change from getting hit for a single wrong move. Yassen had gently turned down visiting. Nile wondered if it was a political thing or a personal history thing. Sekhmet was doing her usual paperwork goddess routine. Nile looked up from his paperwork hopefully. "Sooooo."

The woman didn't even look up. "The answer's still no."

Nile pouted and sat back in the chair. He knew better than to push his luck, especially when she was doing a lot of his paperwork. Sekhmet looked very amused.

"So, I hear you're getting an apprentice soon."

Nile grinned. "Alex is a riot."

She ruffled through some of the papers. "I can see that on the television. He looks like trouble in a hundred- and twenty-pound skin."

Nile huffed. "He's a sweet- uh, never mind. Alex has a dog that he loves more than life?"

She rolled her eyes. "For the record, if you ever call someone sweet, loving, or nice, I'm never buying it."

Nile huffed. "I'm not that bad."

Sekhmet gave him a very pointed look. "Your last sexual partner set a bush on fire in your front lawn trying to burn your house down."

Nile turned slightly pink. "She was exciting!"

Sekhmet continued. "The one before that keyed my car because she thought you were cheating on her with me."

Nile grinned. "I wish."

She smacked him with a sheaf of paperwork.

"Ow!"

Sekhmet glared at him. "You had better find your next partner in a library or else you're going to be missing some critical male parts."

Nile huffed. "But Seeeeeeekhmet!"

The woman fixed him with a look. "Library."

Nile pouted. Maybe he'd get lucky and there'd be a vet student there. They were all batshit as far as he could tell.

"I can hear the cogs turning in your little brain. Don't even think of trying to cheat the system."

Nile signed another form. "You're mean."

Sekhmet smirked. "I know. Now, finish reading that shipping report."

Nile hated shipping reports. They were boring and had no redeeming qualities. Sekhmet smacked him again. "What was that for?"

She didn't even look up from her paperwork. "You were zoning out."

Nile pouted. "Mean."

Sekhmet snorted. "That's how I got where I am."

Nile had to admit that she was probably right about that. There were not a whole lot of genuinely nice people in SCORPIA.

"I knew that lemonade was crap."

Chase woke up feeling like he'd just been hit by a train. Nile was sitting in the chair next to him.

"The lemonade was poisoned. This is why we don't let you have juice."

Chase replied without having much of a filter. He felt like his brain was stuffed with cotton. "Lemonade has sugar and water added to it."

Nile seemed to be amused. Chase was glad he could help.

"Aren't you the one who told me that if I have to rely on semantics then I've already lost?"

Chase patted his second-in-command's shoulder. "Stop making sense."

Nile grabbed his hand. "You're higher than a kite, boss."

Chase huffed. "Good. I almost died. I may as well get something out of it."

The floating sensation was going away, which was a shame. There were some nice warm covers on him. The sheets were far too nice for a public hospital. "Where am I?"

Nile lightly placed his hand on the covers. "The SCORPIA hospital on the island. They said you almost died before you got the antidote. And twice after you had the antidote."

Chase shrugged. "It happens."

Nile gave him a wide-eyed look. It was times like these that Chase remembered that Nile was very young. If his son Shepard had lived-

"Boss?"

Chase was thankfully thrown out of that thought. "Yes?"

Nile handed him a letter. "Pierre replied."

Chase groaned. "Did you give Three a copy?"

Nile swallowed. "Yes, sir."

Chase sighed. "Good. I'll see the damage later. Did he attach an expense report?"

Nile gave Chase an amused look. "I think he puffed his hours up, but I can't prove anything."

Chase rolled his eyes. "He knows better than to go too far with that. Besides, Logistics will confirm him anyway because they don't want to quibble with someone who writes obnoxiously perfect spreadsheets."

Nile grinned. "It looks so crisp I want to set it on fire."

Chase chuckled. "It really does, doesn't it?"

Nile fanned himself with the spreadsheet. "I made a few copies."

Chase rolled his eyes. "This is why you're not allowed to go anywhere by yourself except the restroom."

Nile made a face. Honestly, Chase occasionally wondered why Julia had decided to promote him that young. She could have waited a few years and he wouldn't have had as bad of a time.

"But booooosss."

Chase snorted. "You know, acting like a teen won't get you more privileges."

Nile pouted. "Can I see it?"

Chase rolled his eyes and let Nile read over his shoulder. "Sure. Just keep in mind we're sticking him with extra lessons from The Countess because of his asshole letters."

Nile started laughing. Chase was not sure what the letter was going to bring him, but he was certain that it was going to be Pierre's usual asinine self. Nile read fast when he wanted to read stuff. Try handing him a piece of paper with shipping reports and you'd be waiting a week for him to get to the second paragraph.

Dear Pierre,

Now listen here, you little shit! I just got poisoned and your bullshit is going to give me a stroke, a stroke, I tell you. Moving on. Yeah, we kind of figured most of this out ourselves, but thank you for trying. What on Earth took you so long?! That was strictly rhetorical, by the way. Yassen is a precious man who wouldn't hurt a soul. I have no idea what you're talking about. Perhaps you could get your tiny ass out to the mailbox more than once a month if you don't want people concerned about you, you little shit.

Moving on. Were you born on Mars? Because you clearly don't understand how employment works in this world. One, I give you a task. Two, you do the task. Three, I give you money. This is the standard for how this works. By the way, I know you puffed your hours, but your rates are cheap enough that I don't give a fuck. You cost less than my wine bills for a month. I'm not kidding. Great, now I'm talking about you like you're a prostitute. I blame the drugs I'm on due to the whole poisoning thing. They're pretty great, but the staff has been trying to wean me off the fast way.

Can you please make my month and just come work for me? Pretty please? I'll be gentle, I promise. Not like I can do much from the hospital bed anyway. Nile is desperate for paperwork help. It's not like you aren't taking my money. I have a nice sparkly bonus account for you all set up. Also, I want the secret to your spreadsheets. They're pristine and I want to eat them, though that could be the drugs they have me on.

Yes, you ARE MY EMPLOYEE, YOU JACKASS,

Brendan Chase

Doctor Three had received a copy of Pierre's letter before Brendan had woken up from his coma. It had lasted a few weeks, even with Eijet figuring out the poison in two hours flat. She was getting a bonus for that. Three normally wouldn't have cared, but Brendan was currently critical to his plans. Curse the man and his love of juice. Everybody knew not to drink the juice. Plus, the trip costs were ridiculous. Who spends hundreds of dollars on airport snacks? Then again, he wasn't entirely sure that Nile had ever set foot in a grocery store. The man had come from a place where his family were subsistence farmers and the 'army' he had 'served' with had raided the farms for food. SCORPIA didn't send operatives with certain traits to do their shopping and Rothman wouldn't have wasted Nile's time like that. It was probably that. "Nile, do come in."

Nile was on edge. "Sir?"

Three motioned for him to sit down. "You did well, Nile."

Nile looked a touch relieved.

"It was an unfortunate incident but the investigation has concluded that it was Brendan's stupidity that led to this. You are formally absolved of any and all blame. Now, let's discuss further steps."

Nile squirmed a bit in his chair. "Further steps? Isn't that Mr. Chase's affair?"

Doctor Three made a mental note to drink more of the tea Alex sent him. It was more soothing than he had originally thought it would be. "Typically, it would be. However, Brendan has an unfortunate history of ignoring safety guidelines and not doing anything to disrupt his enjoyment of life to increase his security. It would be his affair; however, I can't have him drop dead before my plans with him are complete."

Nile sighed. "Alright, sir."

Three pulled the papers out of his inbox. "Excellent. Here are the guidelines. Kindly memorize them and put them in my outbox once you're finished."

Nile blinked. "Uh-"

Three cut him off. "Take your time. I will simply do my paperwork while I wait."

Three set some water to boil. Nile glanced up. Three made a point to glare at him. Nile quickly went back to his reading. Good. Now, where was the sweet box to send to Alexander? Ah, there it was. Good, he could send it off with Nile once he got done.

Alex had been exceedingly glad to return to his school. Not that he didn't like Sarov, but he missed his friends. Dima and Mandy were bickering at the lunch table by the time he got there. It was nice to get back to normal. There hadn't even been that many explosions during this school year. This was probably the first school year he'd properly attended in the right state of mind since Alan Blunt had recruited him that fateful night in the past life. Alex sat next to both of them. "How are you two doing today?"

Dima had dark circles under his eyes. Mandy looked well-rested. Mandy smiled and relayed her holiday stories. Alex listened with only half an ear. Dima looked like he was about ready to pass out. They had PE later today. Mandy eventually finished. The bell rang shortly after. He helped Dima up from the table. Dima squeezed his hand as he got up. "Do you need the nurse's office?"

Dima shook his head. The boy looked genuinely afraid. "No."

Alex sighed and followed Dima to history class. He couldn't shake the feeling that something very wrong was going on. Dima took his usual place next to Alex in the class. The boy next to him was clenching his jaw. Alex knew that he was in pain for some reason or another. The history lecture was interesting. Alex rapidly scribbled notes down on the pages in front of him. Dima seemed to be having trouble keeping up. Alex kept writing, even as he focused on his hands for a second. It was hard to bruise fingers visibly, but that didn't mean Dima hadn't had a switch taken to his hands. The class was over before Alex realized. Dima grabbed his wrist.

"Alex, we have a break now."

Alex put his pen down. "Thank you, Dima."

Dima tripped over the desk. Alex grabbed his shoulder and lifted him upright. Dima froze slightly under his touch before loosening. "Thank you."

Alex continued packing his bag. Dima seemed very impatient to get to the library. Alex wrapped up fairly fast. Dima all but ran him to the library. Alex sat down next to him in the back alcove they usually sat in. Dima was currently cutting off the circulation in his arm. "What is going on?"

Dima huffed. "You're nosy."

His voice trembled. Dima started lightly poking his arms.

"Okay, what the hell?"

Dima looked at him. "How do you have muscles like that?"

Alex ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't very well tell Dina that he had been illegally genetically modified by his families. The political fallout would be a nightmare. Not to mention, while Ian was not in his good graces, he didn't want the man tried in international courts. "I work out. Some people develop earlier than others, Dima."

Dima flushed a little bit. Alex took a little bit of grim amusement at the fact that teens were almost universally embarrassed by puberty. At least he had some small amount of consolation after having to go through puberty round two. "My dad's being a nightmare again. And he's got plans."

Alex gently patted Dima. He was crap at comforting people. "There, there, it wouldn't be your dad if he was any other way. Besides, you can always ditch him once you're eighteen."

Dima let out a long sigh. "I just wish I could escape from him a little faster."

Alex put an arm around his friend. He'd get Dima through PE because that was pretty much all he could do at the moment.

Sarov debated whether or not to give Alex his package. It had been screened by both governments and declared safe. Safety was not the issue. It was the man who had sent the package that was the issue. Doctor Three would likely not be sending nice, wholesome, and kind packages, however harmless the items might appear. Sarov sighed as he gently pulled the candy out of the box. What in the hell? It sounded like the start of a twisted joke. He sighed. To be honest, rejecting Three's gifts would likely not end well for Alex. He took the package out to the living room and set it in front of Alex.

"A bit late for a Christmas present."

Sarov let out a heavy sigh. "It is not a Christmas present. It is a gift from Doctor Three."

Alex's expression switched to a mix of puzzlement and a grim sort of determination. He opened the box and looked at the candy inside. It was a bunch of older-style candy. "Where on Earth did he get candy buttons?"

Sarov coughed awkwardly. "The note said to enjoy, but not much else. He also said thank you for the tea."

Alex rolled his eyes. "That sounds exactly like him, to be honest."

Sarov watched as he went through the package. It would be cute and wholesome if it hadn't been sent by an interrogations expert. Alex looked more and more amused as he unpacked the thing.

"Do you think he's trying to kill me via diabetes?"

Sarov coughed a laugh into his sleeve. "This is not a joking matter. I think he would use a faster method."

Alex gave him an amused look. "You know you like my sense of humor."

Sarov cuffed Alex. "No joking about Doctor Three killing you."

Alex huffed. And then gave him a wide-eyed angelic look. "But it's my coping method."

Sarov pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alex, I'm going to offer you therapy. Again."

Alex glared at him. "No."

Sarov sighed. Alex was one of the most stubborn people alive. Even if he made Alex go to therapy, he couldn't force Alex to cooperate. "You are one of the most stubborn people I have had the misfortune to look after."

Alex beamed at him. That was not a compliment. "Thank you!"

Sarov decided not to wonder how that had translated into a compliment in Alex's demented little brain. He wasn't entirely sure Alex was sane. "That was not a compliment."

Alex took a piece of candy out of the box. "Too bad. And I'll keep the candy."

Sarov sighed. "Don't eat more than one piece a day."

Alex gave him a scathing look. Ah, teenagers. He watched as Alex went up to his room, taking the box with him. Sarov had confiscated the black licorice for himself. Alex didn't like the stuff and it was one of the few sweets he could stand. He wondered if Alex's more severe insomnia episodes would return. It was a fairly delicate balance that he had established. In truth, Sarov didn't believe that Alex would ever see another therapist voluntarily. But he could offer and be supportive.

Victor Ivanov was making special arrangements for Alexander. Normally, he wouldn't bother, but he was in a testy mood after he argued with his son and had decided to put effort into getting more gatherings with Sarov. Sarov was not exactly his biggest fan but tolerated him in their alliance when it came to policy and the like. Alex was certainly wary around him but had been very much attentive during the treaty negotiations. Dima was...a disappointment. He had been hoping for a son who looked a bit more like him. That alone wouldn't have been an issue, but Dima was just not into anything that was very masculine. Dima barely hunted and never enjoyed it. His shooting was not exactly stellar, especially with live targets. Alex could deadlift about fifty kilos of deer, which was a bit much to expect from Dima, but the boy didn't even try to lift weights. Until recently, Dima had ignored all of his peers and not made any kind of connections, political or otherwise. At least his marks were halfway decent. His phone rang. "Ivanov."

The voice on the other end of the phone was clipped. "I have been permitted to accept your offer. Expect me in a week."

Click. The man didn't waste words. It would serve Alex well to take a more direct approach to conflicts. There were only so many accidents one could arrange. Plus, the man could give him an idea of what Alex's capabilities were. Victor knew that Alex was likely in the top one percent for his age. Victor had watched him lift extremely large deer when he thought nobody was looking too closely. Dima had told him that the physical education program at school was a joke for Alex. Dima got home that minute. "How was your day, son?"

Dima flinched. "He carried me through gym class."

Victor resisted a snort. "Alex can likely motivate you if he can motivate hardened black ops agents."

Dima huffed. "I meant that literally. He carried me the last kilometer of the run and through most of the obstacle course."

Victor nodded. "I hoped you thanked him. You're on the heavier end of appropriate weight for your age."

With that, he swept out of the room.

Alex was surprised when Victor pulled him aside after their hunting trip. "So, I hear you are interested in weaponry."

Alex was instantly suspicious. "Yes. It's a perfectly good hobby."

Victor's lips twitched. "You will get no protests from me. Remind me to show you my antique sword collection sometime."

Okay, Alex was reluctantly impressed now. "That would be fun. Perhaps too much fun."

Victor gave him a very amused look. "I have been reliably told there is no such thing."

Alex gave the man a flat look. "This from the guy spearheading the parents against cocaine use committee."

Victor rolled his eyes. "It's the commission for student safety."

Alex just gave Victor a very unimpressed look. Victor sighed. "You will be joining me at my house every weekend for the foreseeable future."

Alex arched a brow. "Alexei agreed to that?"

Victor sighed. "Alexei agreed to days. No nights."

Alex gave him a look. "Presumptuous of you."

Victor shrugged. "Daring has gotten me to a lot of places in life."

Alex hefted the elk. "I didn't say I didn't like it."

The man gave him a thoroughly exasperated look. "I think you and the knife instructor will get along swimmingly."

Alex got the feeling that was an insult but had no idea who the guy was, much less what the implication was. He slowly walked over to Sarov and began helping him out with the elk. "What's this about lessons at Victor's house?"

Sarov slid the knife through the elk and answered without pausing. "Victor had used his somewhat more dubious contacts to locate an instructor for your throwing knives. I did promise that you could have lessons after Christmas."

Alex nodded. "Now I'm curious."

Sarov probably would have cuffed him if they weren't elbow-deep in elk at the moment. "Patience is a virtue."

Alex gave the man his brattiest look. "I need to know for security reasons?"

Sarov gave him a look. "It works better if you say it as a statement and not a question."

Alex was crushed, crushed. "You're killing me."

Sarov shot him an amused look. "I believe you will survive until next Friday just fine."

Alex suppressed a groan. "I'm surrounded by sadists, I swear."

Sarov didn't even try to resist snorting. Alex was burning with curiosity now. Oh, come on. Being thirteen sucked sometimes. Nobody told him anything. Fenrir was giving him hopeful looks. Alex grinned and tossed the entrails. Fenrir snarfed them down in about three gulps. Alex began carefully removing organs that they didn't usually eat. Dima was making a face as he watched Alex feed organs to his dog. Poor guy still wasn't completely good with slicing up animals. Then again, Alex still wasn't completely good with torture and interrogations, despite Three's best efforts in the past life, so he probably shouldn't talk too much. Dima was shooting him pitying looks the entire time. Well, that wasn't a good sign. Then again, Dima was, well, a kid. Alex wasn't sure if it was serious trouble or school bullshit half the time. Alex didn't date and, hence, was involved in a very low amount of drama. He also stayed away from the cliques that tended to do the most shit-stirring. There were certain kinds of negativity he didn't have the emotional bandwidth to deal with.

The man known as Professor Yermalov had received an interesting offer. It was not often that he was contacted by the people he knew in the Russian government. Doctor Three had quietly suggested he accept. Yermalov knew what that meant, thank you very much. Three had beamed and told him he'd want darling Alex's file updated. Yermalov wondered what the boy had done now. He would feel sorry for him, but Three was fairly hard to provoke that badly and still be breathing. Alex stepped into the room, padding softly towards him. "Good afternoon, Professor Yermalov."

Yermalov scowled. "I assume your dratted uncle told you about me."

Alex scowled at him. "Don't be mean to Ian, he was trying his best."

Yermalov glared at the boy. "Clearly, it wasn't good enough. I will not be calling you that ridiculous pseudonym."

Alex seemed rather entertained by that remark. "Just Alex is fine."

Yermalov watched closely as he set the throwing knives down on the table. "Warm-up time."

Alex did not seem any less amused as he began running around the underground target range. Good. Yermalov hated whiners and idiots. Alex seemed to know full well what he was doing. Good running form. As far as Yermalov could tell, he was uninjured. He preferred to have a medical examination of any students before class as a general rule. There had been one too many perfectly good students dropping to the mat and nearly dying of infection for him not to be paranoid. Alex looked at him after about a solid hour of running. "I can do this pace all day, but I'm warm now."

Yermalov slinked off of his perch. "Good. We will now be going over how to hold and conceal the knives."

Alex slinked over to him. Yermalov made sure to get a good look at the boy. Alex didn't flinch away from his touch. Odd, he'd reacted badly to quite a few SCORPIA operatives.

"Don't worry, I showered today."

Yermalov swatted him.

"Ow!"

Alex was giving him a wide-eyed look. Yermalov rolled his eyes. "It had better stay that way. Or else."

Alex swallowed. "Okay."

Yermalov repressed a snort. Teens needed a firm hand, but not as harsh as the one he used with adults. Yermalov carefully adjusted Alex's grip before having him stand there holding the knife for as long as possible. It would be a good exercise, not to mention, that it would allow Yermalov to assess his physical capabilities. Victor had sternly warned him not to leave too many bruises if they did do hand-to-hand combat practice. Alex had to attend school and the changing rooms were public. Yermalov thought that sounded like bullshit, but he was going to go along with the stupid little rule for now.

"Um?"

Yermalov smacked Alex's arm as it started to droop. That had been longer than he thought. "We will be doing this for a while, not to worry."

Alex gave him the evil eye but still complied. Good. This assignment actually might be tolerable. Besides, Alex was still in the cute phase of his childhood. The soft, rounded features were a clear indicator of his age. Yermalov decided to talk to him a bit more. "What is your diet and daily exercise like?"

Alex looked at him oddly but responded. It seemed there would be no nutritional damage to repair.

Joe Byrne was eagerly awaiting the results of the next two raids. They needed an agency success. Everyone was hovering around. Tensions were running high. The normally calm analysts had screamed at each other a few times. Joe had broken up eight fights in the parking lot. Eight. Fucking. Fights. The information he had been given had been good. Shocking. Complete. Good information. They had only recently opened investigations into the people involved. Tamara dropped a report on his desk. "As far as we can tell, all confirmed. The NSA took care of their traitor as soon as we told them."

Joe swallowed. "Well, at least they're trying to make up for it. Jesus, they've been letting this guy float around at fancy dinners for six months."

Tamara rolled her eyes. "We've had similar slip-ups. Aldrich Ames is still a case study for a reason. Everyone wants to believe the best of their colleagues, you know."

Joe pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, but at least we didn't have the guy who almost handed over the key to all of our nukes."

Tamara rolled her eyes. "Just focus on the raids, Joe. I'm sure we can throw his supervisor under the bus if the NSA doesn't."

Joe was not exactly cheered up by that. He flipped through the new files and rubbed his eyes. "Where the hell is that flash drive now?"

Tamara pursed her lips. "The NSA claims it was destroyed."

Joe closed his eyes. "Those lying shits. Alright, put it on the priority list."

Tamara began typing on her computer. "Who should we put on it?"

Joe sighed. "Nobody who has even questionable allegiances."

Tamara put a bunch of restrictions on the file. His agents probably wouldn't like that, but Joe didn't give a shit. He had bigger problems than people who wanted to stick their noses where they didn't belong. His wife, God love her, had still not divorced him. The Senate hearing was coming up in a few weeks. Joe needed the raids to be a hundred percent successful and a hundred percent covert. They were getting more news coverage than fucking football. They were supposed to be a quiet little intelligence agency, for fucks sake. "Someone start getting on those sniper angles. I want this to be a quiet little thing. And who signed off on us using a tank? This is an illegal domestic operation! No tanks!"

Tamara's lips twitched as she typed out more emails. Joe was glad he had her in his employee rolls. Joe began flipping through the other files Tamara left him. This was going to be a long few weeks.

Damien Cray had just begun to arrange for the purchase of the codes for Air Force One. He entered the room he'd created to get rid of the man who was selling him the flash drive. Four combat teams were watching him from the shadows. A shot rang out in the night. It didn't matter. He was dead before he hit the floor. Alpha leader gingerly went down to the room. It was probably trapped. The man opened the door and hauled the body out. "It looks safe, but be careful."

There were acknowledgments over the comms. He hauled the body to Cray's car. It was fortunate that the man was well-known for driving himself. "Beta team hit clean-up."

There was chatter as people got ready to clean up the blood and wipe the security cameras in the area and roads. "Delta team, we need to make this look like a drive-by."

He heaved the body into the driver's seat. The comms were live. "Blood and body matter picked up. Surfaces cleaned. We'll need the bits for the staging."

Alpha leader sighed. He didn't like fuckery that involved corpses, but it was necessary for the job sometimes. The delta team was already taking the car a few blocks away from the compound. There was swearing. "What's going on?"

There was a pause. "He got a custom electronics board for the thing."

Alpha leader sighed. Ex-gang members did tend to be paranoid about car bombs. "Kill his brakes and start it up. Slash the tires once he hits. Shoot the car. We'll make it look like they laid spikes."

There was more chatter as they began to set up the new plan. Alpha leader sighed. "Try to pick a building with no people."

The delta team responded. They were usually prompt like that. "Roger."

The alpha leader heard a crash and multiple rounds of automatic guns being discharged. The comms then went quiet. The beta team replied next. "Brain matter deposited appropriately. No snags."

Alpha leader let out a sigh of relief. "Let's move out."

Everyone carefully packed up their gear and quietly moved towards their designated cars. The cameras would be dead for another three hours. By the end of that time, they would be long gone and easily checked as a diplomatic file delivery in the agency records. There would be no official record of this kill. They had killed a British citizen without so much as letting MI6 know it was coming. The CIA had acted on US territory. There had been no trial, no warrant, and no conviction. In other words, this was about eight thousand kinds of illegal.

Nikolei Drevin had just paid for the head tattoos of the man known as Kaspar. Personally, they both found the tattoos repugnant, but they needed a memorable terrorist for their ploy. He had already agreed to pay for the laser removal. The space launch was going to have to be pushed back again, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep busy. At this point, he had given up on building the station, but there still needed to be one last launch. He was sitting in his home near the launch site. Paul was in bed, after having dealt with another asthma attack.

Drevin would have taken him back to Russia, but he didn't want to be embarrassed, especially in front of the new boy king. By all accounts, he was the picture of traditional masculine qualities. Drevin heard a boom as the complex was entered. There were silent alarms in most of his rooms. Only Paul and himself knew about them. A shootout began between his guards and the soldiers. A glance out of the window told him that it was American troops. His guards were going to lose. Drevin knew that his plans had somehow been found out. He went upstairs to wake Paul. Paul might be a bit of a disappointment, but he was still Nikolei's only son. Paul looked startled to be woken. "We are under attack by the CIA. Wear this and meet me at the boat house."

Paul nodded and put on the bulletproof vest. Nikolei figured that they probably wouldn't shoot a child. He would likely have to be more stealthy. "Paul."

His son paused. "Yes?"

Nikolei paused. "Whatever happens, I love you."

Paul stared in shock. Nikolei lightly pushed him. "Run!"

Paul hurried out. Nikolei took a more sedate pace. He heard Paul get out the door and waited a few minutes. No gunshots. Good. He quietly stepped out of one of the many side doors. He had designed the house to be fairly easy for the non-dungeon occupants to escape. The exit with the most cover was the one he had instructed Paul to take. Nikolei took the second-best route. He loved his son enough that he would be leading the others away if they caught him. Paul could sail away without him if need be.

Nikolei snuck through the foliage. He heard more shots ring out. The man prayed it wasn't his son. He didn't care much for the men. Paul was a different thing entirely. Nikolei heard the soldiers begin to enter the foliage. He ran through the leaves.

Crack!

Nikolei fell over. The pain spread through his chest. A man in camouflage walked up to him. Nikolei felt himself groaning as he was turned over. He hoped Paul was okay. Maybe Paul would get to live with his mother. Drevin hoped that the CIA didn't take this out on Paul. The old KGB and the gangs in Russia definitely would have. "Target acquired."

He didn't hear the shot that killed him. His last thoughts were of Paul.

Alex was watching the news and felt a squelch of satisfaction as the deaths of Drevin and Cray were announced. Another one bites the dust. He did feel a little bad for Paul, but the other boy seemed to prefer living with his mother anyhow. Sarov was giving him an evil eye over their morning breakfast. "Should I bother asking?"

Alex shrugged. "I may not be the CIA's biggest fan ever, but letting acts of terror happen is over the line."

Sarov gave him an exasperated look. "You should have at least charged them."

Alex's lips twitched. "They'll get a bill after the Senate hearing. I'm not that mean."

Sarov looked amused at his antics. Alex knew that the man secretly enjoyed the fact that he was a little shit. Besides, Joe was fun to wind up, but he didn't want the man to get ulcers. He wanted Joe to live a good while longer. It wouldn't be any fun if Joe died of a stroke when Alex was barely an adult. "You're a little shit, Alex."

Alex grinned. "Oh, but you love me anyway."

Sarov glared. "I am going to go prematurely gray at this rate."

Alex swallowed the bite he had just taken. "Prematurely?"

Sarov finished his breakfast and lightly cuffed Alex as he walked past. "We'll see who you call old in our afternoon run."

Alex crossed his arms. "Mean."

Sarov placed his dishes in the sink. "I didn't make general because of my dashing good looks."

Alex grinned. "So, whose hearts are you crushing this week?"

Sarov rolled his eyes and picked up the newspaper. "The usual suspects. Boris's daughter. A ballerina. And some sort of television model."

Sarov continued. "Would you like to hear about your true relationship with Demetri and Amanda?"

Alex howled with laughter. "Sure, give it to me."

Sarov's tone turned dry. "No, that would be Demetri's job."

Alex screeched. "WHAT?!"

Sarov snatched the newspaper away. "Morning vocabulary review."

Alex pouted. "You can't leave me hanging like that!"

Sarov snarked him right back. "Don't worry, I'm sure Amanda will pick up the pieces."

Alex was sorely regretting that exchange as he pulled out his flashcards. Oh well, Dima would give him a newspaper. The other boy found the gossip magazines almost as hilarious as Alex did.

Tulip nearly had a stroke when she got an email from nowhere. Fuck. She did not sign up for this mystery bullshit. Well, she had signed up to an intelligence agency, but Alan had given her the impression that they were all-knowing. She was supposed to know where all of her knowledge came from. Her heart sank as she saw the subject line. Potential Knight Candidate Harold Sayle. Fuck. What was this one after? Joe had sent her copies of the files from M after the subjects of them were taken care of. She read the message with growing horror and once she got to the part about him attempting to buy advanced smallpox from the black market, she stopped reading. Just wonderful. They'd have to do this quietly.

Thankfully, the PM was now listening fairly closely to Crawley. Tulip was well aware that the PM was a bit of a sexist turd. She had sent Ian and Crawley to meet with him and give him the impression that they were the soft power behind her show of leadership. Pig. Anyhow, Ian was smooth when he wanted to be. She wasn't worried too much about that angle. Perhaps they would get lucky and SCORPIA wouldn't find "M" before the CIA or another agency did. Tulip hadn't ruled out some sort of advanced task force that was built behind their backs. The intelligence world was a cliquey place. If you weren't in the right circle, you were lucky if you got the information before the papers. She decided to call Joe. The man was mostly reliable.

"Tulip?"

Tulip felt her lips twitch. "I got M'ed."

Joe chuckled. "Ha! Now you know how it feels."

Tulip reflected that sometimes Joe reminded her of how Ian behaved around John. She was an only child and very thankful for that. "Joe!"

Joe managed to restrain himself. "What? Everyone and their mother is giving me shit for not tracing those emails. Do you know what that's like?"

Tulip felt her eyes twitch. "Joe."

Joe huffed on the other end of the line. "Look, I'll send you what we have. It's not a whole lot."

Tulip let her tone lighten. "Thank you, Joe."

Jones sighed and picked up the phone.

"Oh, Crawley, would you kindly find me an analyst willing to work during the holidays?"

Crawley sighed. "Is there at least a bonus I can promise?"

Tulip drummed her fingers against the desk. "I'll see what I can whip up but no promises."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "I'll do my best."

Click.

Tulip was, once again, left staring at the wall. M. Alec Pierre. Alex Rider. Tulip froze. Alec Pierre. They were idiots. They were all fucking idiots. Now, if only M had a conveniently obvious pseudonym. It was beyond irritating that there were no serious traces left on the trails. Not that the Russians wouldn't murder him if SCORPIA didn't get there first. All in all, it had been a terrible year for intelligence.