Alex squinted in the light of the setting sun as he waited for Tom and James to join him outside the school gates, so that they could walk home together. Unusually, this term their timetables weren't the same, so while Alex had been struggling to concentrate through Macbeth in English (seriously, whose idea was it to do Shakespeare as the last lesson of the day?), Tom and James had been in PE, slogging around the fields doing cross country. All of them were sporty, but none of them liked cross country, especially when it had been raining all day and the fields were muddy and slippery. And, in the middle of January, it was always muddy and slippery.
"Are you Alex?"
The sun shining into his eyes meant that he hadn't seen the group of men walking towards him until it was too late.
"Who are you?" Alex didn't like the way that they had closed in on him. They were inching closer to him with every second that passed. He was outnumbered and soon he would be completely surrounded; even now, he wouldn't be able to slip away without them being able to reach out and grab him. He definitely wasn't going to confirm that he was who they thought he was.
"Your uncle sent us. He asked us to pick you up from school."
That immediately sent more alarm bells ringing. Firstly, Ian was away on yet another business trip so it would have been Jack sending someone (and not ten someones!) to pick him up. Secondly, Alex was sure that anyone Ian asked to pick him up from school would have referred to him as 'Ian' not 'your uncle'; they would have known that Ian hated being called that, wouldn't they? Thirdly, Alex had never met them before and he thought it extremely unlikely that Ian would send a group of complete strangers to pick him up. And fourth, he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but something didn't seem quite right. There were too many things that didn't add up.
"I'm not allowed to go with strangers," Alex said hesitantly, although even as he said it he became aware of the fact that he was completely surrounded now. He also realised that he had basically confirmed that he was who they were looking for. He could have kicked himself! The men had formed an almost solid circular wall around him; he was trapped. And he wouldn't be able to take all of them in a fight. "Maybe I should just wait in reception while you-"
"-No," the only man out of the whole group who had spoken so far cut in. "Your uncle said it was urgent. You have to come with us."
Five. They were trying to rush him and not give him time to think. This was really very not good. Whatever happened, Alex knew that he mustn't get in the car with them.
"I've just remembered, I need to talk to one of my teachers about some work I didn't understand," he said, backing away towards the school, but the men remained static and Alex walked straight into the man standing directly behind him.
"You can ask tomorrow," the man said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the car.
"Hey! Get off!" Alex shouted. Maybe if he made enough noise, one of the adults in the school would hear and help him. It was the end of the day and there should still have been quite a few students and parents milling around but, inexplicably, Alex was on his own. A hand was clamped over his mouth before he could scream or shout though, and he was bundled into the backseat of the car.
"I'm sorry, Alex. We need to get you somewhere safe. And quickly."
"What do you mean 'safe'? Safe from what?" Alex shouted, even as he heard the doors lock and the car drive away with a squeal of the tires. "I don't feel safe."
He looked out of the window just in time to see Tom and James's shocked faces as the car drove past. Alex mouthed 'help' and hoped his friends would understand. They stared at the car for another second before running back towards the school. The school had CCTV cameras; surely they would call the police and be able to give them a description of the car that he had been shoved into.
"We'll explain properly when we arrive at the safe house. Your uncle is meeting us there."
"What about Jack?"
"He'll be there too."
Well that settled it. Whoever these people were, they definitely hadn't been sent by Ian or Jack. If only phones were allowed at school, he could have texted or called someone to say he needed help. But he was stuck in this car with three grown up men, with no way of telling anyone that he was in trouble and, he reflected glumly, they would have no way of tracking where he had been taken either. His only source of hope came from the fact that Tom and James had seen him. They knew that he had been kidnapped. Only that and the fact that, if it came down to it, Alex could possibly escape from the three men in the car with him with some well-timed karate strikes, were the only things stopping him from completely freaking out. There was a second car in front of them and a third one behind… if they managed to get him to wherever they planned to take him, Alex would be horribly outnumbered again and he wouldn't be able to take out all ten of the men before the element of surprise wore off. This was really, really bad. He had to escape before they arrived at their destination.
They were heading out of the city and Alex was looking out of the blacked-out window, trying to work out how he could escape when the car in front of them suddenly went out of control and crashed. The men in the car with Alex immediately became uneasy, looking around and shouting.
Then Alex registered that there had been the sound like the crack of a whip, there was a hole in the glass of the windshield and the car had suddenly sped up. The driver was slumped against the window. Was he unconscious? What was happening? The driver's hand slipped off of the steering wheel, pulling it around as it fell. The car turned violently and Alex was thrown against the door.
"Quick, with me," the man in the back with him shouted, grabbing Alex's arm before throwing his door open.
"I'm not going with you!" Alex shouted, pulling his arm away.
But the man had tumbled out of the door before he'd waited for Alex's reply. Alex quickly looked out of the back window and saw the man rolling along the road, only narrowly avoiding being run over by the car behind them. He looked back around just in time to see the passenger in the front seat dive out of the car too. That just left Alex and the driver who was unconscious or something, and whose foot was jammed on the accelerator, in the car.
Alex dove forwards, leaning through the gap in the two front seats and grabbing hold of the steering wheel. He stared in horror at the cars coming towards them. They were on the wrong side of the road! And he had no way of getting over to the right side, thanks to the railing that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and now separated the lanes of traffic.
He tried desperately to pull the man's leg off of the accelerator but it was no use. The angle was too awkward and he wasn't quite tall enough to reach properly from where he was. If he wasn't also steering, he might have been able to manage it… but right now there was nothing he could do other than try to avoid the oncoming cars.
He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw a motorbike coming up behind him. Whoever they were, they were catching up to the car incredibly quickly. Were they coming to try and help him? Was it the police? Alex desperately hoped that the answer was 'yes', although it looked like the bike was just going to drive right past him.
And it did; the motorbike sailed straight past the car, but, Alex noticed, there was no sign of the driver as it overtook him. At the same moment, there was a thud as though something heavy had dropped onto the roof of the car, and the motorbike crashed into a road sign. Everything was happening far too quickly for him to keep up. Just focus on the road.
Almost instantly, that became impossible. A man with piercing blue eyes thudded down onto the bonnet, blocking his view out of the windshield.
"Open the door please, Alex."
Alex screamed.
"Get out of the way! I can't see! And I don't know who you are."
"Ian asked me to keep an eye on you."
"That's what they said! Move! I can't see!"
"Alex," the man began but was cut off by more holes appearing in the windscreen.
Then Alex understood. They were bullet holes! What?! No! Surely he was wrong! People couldn't be shooting at them, could they?
"Hold on." The man just seemed mildly irritated rather than concerned or scared, and Alex saw him pull out his own gun! And then he started shooting.
"Alex, open the door please," the man asked again.
Why was he so calm? Why did he have a gun? Why were people shooting at them in the first place? Why had he been kidnapped? And was this man really on his side? Had Ian really sent him?
"Get out of the way! I can't see!" Alex shouted again. Right now, his main concern was that he would crash into another car simply because he couldn't see out of the window. He swerved sharply to avoid a car that suddenly appeared in front of them. Car horns were blaring all around him, as though the drivers thought Alex was both responsible for, and could do anything about his current predicament.
"Alex. Please open the door." There were more gunshots. "I can't help you unless you open the door. Ian asked me to look out for you."
"Why?"
"This would be a much easier conversation to have not through the windscreen of a car, Alex."
"Just get out of the way!"
The man was shooting his gun at the car behind them again. At the people who had taken him from school and who were now shooting at him!
"Alex! The door! Now!"
Everything seemed to happen very quickly but in slow motion after that. Something in Alex decided that he trusted this man… well, maybe not completely, but more than the other people. Maybe it was because he was shooting against the people who had kidnapped him from school. Maybe it was because 'Ian' had sent him not 'his uncle'. Whatever it was, Alex reached forwards and managed to open the car door. What he didn't see was that there was a car coming towards him and it crashed into the door, ripping it off of its hinges and sending it hurtling into the windshield of the car behind them. The sudden rush of air almost threw him back into the seat, but he managed to hang onto the steering wheel and keep the car under some semblance of control.
Now that he had leant further forwards to open the door, Alex was in a better position to attempt to move the driver's foot off of the accelerator, and managed to get it onto the break. The car slowed so violently that Alex was almost thrown through to the front of the car, but he managed to stop himself when his legs and hips slammed into the passenger seat. Then, and Alex had no idea how it had happened (after all, he hadn't seen the car lose control after the door went through the windshield), the car that had been chasing behind them almost seemed to have jumped over the top of them and was now rolling down the road in front of them. Finally, the man on the bonnet had pulled the driver out of the drivers' seat, swung himself through the gap where the door had been, and took control of the car.
Alex sank back into the seats, trying to catch his breath, and looked out of the rear window. The road was in complete and utter carnage. Had he made a mistake in trusting this man? Only time would tell. For now, all Alex could do was sit back and let the man drive them wherever he intended to take him.
"Are you alright, Alex?" the man asked, glancing in the rear view mirror. "Excellent driving. And impeccable timing in opening the door."
It was taking Alex all of his strength to keep his composure and not freak out. The realisation of everything that had just happened was catching up with him and he could hardly believe it was real.
"Where are you taking me?" he demanded instead of answering the man's question.
"Past this barricade of bad guys. Then I'll stop and deal with them. And then I'll take you to a safe house where Ian will meet us."
"They said that too," Alex muttered. He had barely finished speaking before they entered the tunnel and a sudden thunderous hammering sound reverberated through the car. Alex looked out of the window and saw flashes of light. It took a few seconds for his brain to comprehend that machine guns were being fired at the car! Just as quickly as it had started, it stopped; they were through the tunnel and the man was stopping the car with a squeal of the brakes.
"Get out of the car, Alex," the man said, opening the door for him and guiding him to the front of the car. "And stay here in front of the bonnet. I'll be back in a minute." He headed back towards the tunnel and the 'barricade of bad guys', his own gun ready to fire in his hands.
Well, Alex certainly wasn't going to stick around here. Whatever was going on, he wanted nothing to do with it. He took off at a run. He ran without knowing where he was going, but the main thing was putting as much distance as he could between himself and all of the men with guns. After a few minutes, he realised with relief that he knew where he was. There was a café just a couple of roads away where he and Jack went semi-regularly and he knew the staff. They would help him.
When the staff saw him, they knew that something was wrong and sat him down with a hot chocolate and a piece of cake. He briefly explained a little of what had happened - he didn't really want to think about it too much - and they called the police. Alex found that he was too high on adrenaline to either eat the cake or drink the hot chocolate that they had given him.
He was sitting at a table in the corner, waiting for the police to arrive, his legs bouncing and heart still hammering in his chest. He could hear everything that was happening, like he suddenly had super hearing. The almost constant tinkling of the bell above the door as the customers came and went. The shrill hissing of the coffee machine. The chatter of the customers. The clink as someone put their mug back on its saucer. The sound of footsteps. How much time had passed since he had been standing outside of school waiting for James and Tom? How long would it take the police to arrive?
"Hi Alex," a man said, sitting down in the seat opposite him. He looked up and gasped. It was the man from the bonnet of the car. Alex gulped. "Maybe I didn't make it very clear, but we need to stick together for a little while."
Before Alex could say anything, he heard the tinkle of the little bell above the door again and knew, without looking but by the way one of the waitresses had moved forwards and nodded in his direction, that the police had arrived. Worse than that, he knew that something bad was about to happen. He was right. As quick as lightning, the man had grabbed his wrists and pulled them into handcuffs behind his back. Alex cried out in shock as he was pulled out of his seat. He was spun around so that he faced the café, his back held against the man's chest. One of the man's arms pinned Alex to him… the other was holding the gun again. He fired a couple of warning shots into the wall. Alex flinched. His breathing was rapid and shallow. A few of the customers screamed. Alex's heart was pounding. He was terrified. The knot of anxiety and dread twisted in his stomach again. Why was this happening?
"Easy. Easy," one of the police officers - a kind looking woman - said. "Let the kid go."
"The kid is my hostage. If anyone follows us, I'll shoot."
He pulled Alex backwards through the kitchen of the tiny café and out the back into the loading area. A fancy sports car was waiting for them there. The man shoved Alex in and was about to climb in himself when the officer who had spoken inside arrived at the back door.
"…getting into a-"
There was another gunshot. Alex only just registered that this time the man had shot the policewoman! The officer collapsed to the ground and the man crouched beside her, saying something that Alex couldn't hear. Then he got up and climbed into the car. He strapped both Alex and himself in and then drove off.
"You… you shot the police!"
"They would not be able to keep you safe."
"That's their job!"
"Not against these people."
"Who are you?"
"I am a friend of Ian's."
That stunned Alex into silence. Ian didn't really have many friends and he definitely didn't have friends who had guns! So this man was lying. He had to be. And that meant that Alex had to try and escape. He took a few deep breaths and focused his mind on his immediate problems.
The first one to deal with was the handcuffs. Luckily, thanks to Ian's childhood obsession with learning magic tricks (Alex had found his old stuff once and Ian had insisted on demonstrating and getting him to have a go), he had a plan. One of Ian's favourite tricks had involved escaping from handcuffs and he had taught Alex the secret to picking the lock. He was still wearing his school backpack and there was a random paperclip that he'd put on one of the straps after fidgeting with it in class once. He could use that to pick the lock and get out of the cuffs!
It was quite awkward getting the right angle as the bag as well as the cuffs restricted his movement and he had to make sure that the man didn't see what he was doing, but Alex soon managed to grab hold of the strap. The paperclip wasn't there! Was it on the other side? …No. It must have fallen off at some point during everything that had happened that afternoon! Alex ran his hands over the straps another couple of times to make absolutely sure that the paperclip was gone. It was. Then he remembered that there was another one on one of the zips where the little handle had fallen off. That would be even more awkward to get, but Alex persevered; he would not let this man take him without putting up a fight.
After what felt like an eternity, although the clock on the dashboard told him that it had only been a few minutes, Alex finally had the paperclip in his hands. Unlocking the cuffs would be child's play compared to what he had just had to do to get it!
In just a few seconds, the cuffs fell away from his wrists and Alex unclipped his seatbelt, grabbed the door handle and threw himself out of the car. Except he didn't fall. The man had moved impossibly quickly and grabbed the handle of his backpack with one hand.
"Alex!"
But Alex had already worked his arms free of the straps and thudded onto the road, his arms protecting his face and rolling over and over as he slowed down. Thankfully the speed limit on the road they were on was much slower than the one before so he hadn't leapt out of a car going sixty miles per hour, unlike the men who had taken him from school. He had barely come to a stop when he heard the screech of tires as the car stopped. Then there was the peculiar whirring, whining sound of the gears in the engine as the car reversed back down the road towards him at speed. Alex looked up and saw trees lining the road. He ran. Hopefully he would be able to lose himself amongst them, especially in the dark of twilight that had fallen as night had began to properly draw in.
He was through the tree line before the car had reached him again but Alex didn't stop to look behind him. He ran, stumbling over tree roots and other debris in the dark. His school shoes weren't designed for running through woods, and he slipped twice on the muddy ground, only just managing to keep himself upright. He risked a glance around. The sight that met his eyes was not comforting. The man had followed him through the trees and was catching up to him. He didn't even look like he was running! And if Alex had seen him, he had almost certainly seen Alex. He was already running as fast as he could. His heart was pounding. He was sweating. His school uniform, complete with blazer, shirt and tie, was also not designed for running in, but that was the least of his worries. Alex ignored his discomfort and focused on one thing; he had to get away.
Could he climb a tree to escape? The man would know where he was but he wouldn't be able to make him climb back down. Then he remembered the gun. The man could just shoot him and if he fell from too high a height… okay, climbing a tree was not an option.
Before he could make a decision, he was tackled to the muddy ground.
"Get off me!" he shouted, trying to get the man off of his back.
"I'm trying to keep you safe, Alex," the man growled, wrenching Alex's hands behind his back. The cold metal of handcuffs closed around his wrists again and his stomach dropped like a stone. He had lost count of the number of times he had felt that sensation that afternoon.
"It doesn't feel like it! I don't feel safe."
"Whether you feel safe or not, you are much safer with me than you are without me."
Throughout the brief confrontation, and even with his hands cuffed behind his back, Alex had been struggling, trying to get away, but it was no good. The muddy ground was too slippery for his school shoes to get enough purchase to get back to his feet. He was stuck. The man's grip on his arm was too strong to break free from but that didn't stop Alex from dragging his feet and struggling as much as he could once he had been pulled upright. And he realised with a touch of panic that he had managed to lose the paperclip… there would be no getting out of the cuffs this time unless he found something else that he could use to pick the lock. He doubted that there would be anything in the car that he could use; this man seemed to know what he was doing in taking him. Alex had caught him by surprise once. He doubted that he would get a second opportunity.
"If you don't stop struggling, I will just carry you back to the car."
But Alex did not stop struggling - he didn't want to go with this man! - but he was good to his word and after a couple more seconds hoisted Alex up over his shoulder as easily as though he were as light as a feather. He was able to walk as quickly as if he weren't carrying Alex and he soon saw how the man had managed to catch up to him so quickly.
"Just let me go!" Alex was wriggling and struggling as much as he could, not that the man seemed to notice. With his hands cuffed behind his back, there wasn't much else that he could do to try and break free. The way he was being held meant that he couldn't even kick the man! The man did not reply.
They soon reached the car again and this time Alex was strapped into the back seat in such a way that he couldn't move his hands. As the man closed the door, Alex saw him flick the switch to turn on the child lock. Even if Alex did manage to get free of the cuffs again, he would not be able to get out of the car without climbing through to the front. There would be no escape this time. His stomach felt like it was tying itself in knots and his mind was racing to the worst case scenarios. What was going to happen to him?
After driving for a while longer (from where Alex was sitting, he couldn't see the clock on the dashboard anymore, so he wasn't sure exactly how long it had been, although the sun had set completely and they were driving in the dark, so Alex guessed that it must be at least 5pm), the man pulled into a residential estate. He turned onto a side road and Alex briefly saw the road name in the beam of the headlights; Kingfisher Avenue. Alex didn't recognise the name. He had absolutely no idea where they were. The man clicked a button on a little remote. The feeling of dread increased as Alex realised what the remote was; it must be for a garage. The man would be able to pull up inside and close the door before he let Alex out of the car… there wouldn't be the slightest opportunity to escape.
The man turned the car onto a drive and Alex saw that he had been right. The garage door was open, like a mouth ready to swallow them. He heard the whine of the motor as the garage door closed behind them, sealing them in.
"Now," the man said, turning around in his seat, "I can either uncuff you when we get inside the house or, if you are going to cause problems, I can leave your hands in the cuffs."
"I'll behave," Alex lied.
The man just smiled and nodded before getting out of the car, helping Alex out and leading him into the house. Alex got a horrible feeling that the man knew that he was lying. And the fact that the man didn't seem bothered by the prospect of him trying to escape again was not a cheering one. If the man didn't care, he must be sure that the house was secure. Not that it would stop Alex from looking and trying, but he knew that this would be an incredibly hard battle to win, although it would be fractionally easier if his hands were free.
Alex watched as the man locked the door to the house before unlocking his handcuffs. It was one of those doors which needed an actual key to unlock it, rather than being able to turn a knob, and the man took it and put it in his pocket. Unless Alex found a way to pick the lock or steal the key from under the man's nose, the door was not going to be an option. A quick glance around the house didn't seem very promising either. There weren't any obvious ways to get out now that the door was locked and there was something off about the house. It felt just slightly too small and the view out of the windows (albeit patchy in the pools of light given off by the streetlamps) didn't match up with the bits of the street that Alex had seen outside. After a few moments, Alex had the words to describe it. It was like a house had been built inside of a house. So if none of the windows opened onto the outside world and the door they had just come through was the only door he could leave through, the situation was worse than he could possibly have imagined.
"You could at least tell me your name," Alex muttered sourly.
"It's Yassen," the man said with a smile.
"You said you were Ian's friend but he's never mentioned you."
"That is… not surprising. His employers would not be happy if they found out."
"Why would the bank care? Other than, you know, Ian being friends with a mad man who shoots police officers."
"The police are not equipped to deal with the people who are looking for you. I am."
"Oh yeah? Because you're so much more powerful than literally hundreds of police officers?"
"Yes."
"I want to talk to Ian."
"I'm afraid you can't at the moment. But he will be here later."
"Where's Jack?"
"You are the one who was in danger. I'm sure Ian will bring her later."
Hmm. This man - Yassen, if he had given him his real name - did know that Jack was a woman, then. He must have been more thorough in his research.
"She'll be worried that I haven't come home from school. Why won't you tell me what's going on?"
"By now the police will have identified that it was me who took you - there were three security cameras in and around the café. That will complicate matters for them. It is for Ian to explain to you what is going on."
"'Complicates matters' how? Who are you?"
"Again, that is for Ian to explain."
"So while we wait for him to show up you expect me just to sit quietly and ask no questions and behave like I haven't literally been kidnapped?"
"Technically I stopped you from being kidnapped."
"From where I'm standing, I was kidnapped twice."
Yassen tilted his head slightly as though to say 'fair point'. "I don't expect you to sit here quietly, Alex. You are free to do anything you like in the house. What I cannot allow is for you to leave or contact anyone."
"So not 'anything', then," Alex countered, more bravely than he felt. "And for the record, I don't trust you."
"Noted."
*Earlier that afternoon*
Hunched behind the steering wheel of his car, Ian Rider was sweating, although not from the heat. He was in Tangier, investigating a drug smuggling ring; there were reports that they had got their hands on something more dangerous than cocaine or heroin… something that would annihilate a city's population if it was introduced into the water supply. Part of his brief was to identify their suppliers and their intended recipients, but he didn't care about that anymore; the CIA also had an agent investigating and Ian had a new priority.
He was on his way to the airport to leave the city. He'd received an anonymous tip that the Triad was going to kidnap Alex, as revenge for his involvement in stopping their recent attempt to blackmail the British government. Ian shuddered to think what their plans for Alex would be once they had him. So he was leaving. The trouble was that once he was in the air, it would take him three hours to fly back to London, but by then, it would be too late. If he didn't do something now, Alex would be gone.
Even as he raced to the airport, Ian rang MI6.
"What do you mean you 'can't spare any agents right now'?" he demanded angrily.
"We do not know where this… suggestion that Alex might be targeted has come from. It could be a distraction to divert resources to enable something else to happen. We will alert the police but unless more substantial evidence is provided, I cannot authorise anything further. I also cannot authorise you to leave Tangier." Blunt was certainly living up to his name today. When he and John had first met the man, they had joked about how well his name suited him. Today, Ian wished he was anything but.
"Well I'm already on my way to the airport and you are not stopping me," Ian snapped. "And this is the Triad, Mr Blunt. They'll take out the police easily and they won't care about the number of casualties."
"Unless you can provide more evidence, Rider, I cannot justify moving resources."
"What about Alex?"
"As I said, we will alert the police. And we will monitor the situation."
Ian heard the click as Blunt ended the call. He swore. Of course Blunt wouldn't take a threat on Alex seriously. Making a snap decision, Ian pulled out the secure phone that MI6 didn't know about and made another call.
"You're in London at the moment, aren't you?" he said as soon as the call was answered.
"I am."
"I need you to pick Alex up from school. I got an anonymous tip that the Triad is going to make a move on him and Blunt won't do anything." Ian reached the air field and was climbing into his waiting helicopter. "I'm flying home but it'll be three hours before I get there and by then it'll be too late."
"I'm leaving now. I'll take him to safe house three."
"Thank you, Yas."
Ian felt the tension in his stomach ease ever so slightly knowing that Yassen was on his way. It felt like hours passed as he sat behind the controls waiting, the seconds ticking by impossibly slowly, until he was given permission to take off. Ian ran through his final pre-flight checks, making sure that everything was in order, and then manipulated the controls and rose into the air.
He tried to focus on the flight, on only the instruments that were important to keep him safely in the air. He tried not to keep looking at the clock. It didn't work. It felt like time was distorting and his journey was taking so much longer than it should have done. It was like time was taunting him. What felt like half an hour was apparently only five minutes, according to the clock. Why was it taking so long?
He was less than half way through his agonisingly long journey, flying over Spain, when he received a message from Yassen letting him know that he had Alex at the safe house. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Alex was safe.
The rest of the journey passed relatively quickly after that. Now that he knew that Alex was safe, time couldn't taunt him with how slowly it was passing. His imagination couldn't run wild with what the Triad could possibly be doing to Alex, either, and Ian was able to breathe without the constricting band of anxiety crushing his chest. Soon enough, the familiar skyline of London appeared ahead of him. His radio crackled back into life and he received his instructions and flight path for landing in Liverpool Street.
Great, Ian thought. The conversation with Air Traffic Control had reminded him that a conversation with Blunt was in his imminent future, and that was exactly what he didn't want, especially after contravening his direct orders. But he confirmed the directions back to Air Traffic Control and soon touched down on the helipad on the roof of the MI6 offices. John Crawley, the 'Personnel Manager' was waiting for him. If he hadn't already known from Yassen that Alex was safe, this would have confirmed to him that the Triad had, indeed, made a move on Alex.
"Mr Blunt and Mrs Jones need to speak to you," Crawley said, his face impassive.
"What's wrong? Is Alex okay?" He had to play his part, at least until he had decided what to do. Or Yassen decided for him.
Crawley didn't answer but led him to the lift.
"John? What's happened to Alex? Is it the Triad?"
"I don't know anything, Ian. I'm sorry. All I know is that they wanted to see you as soon as you arrived."
The lift doors opened. They didn't have far to travel down, but they travelled in silence.
"I hope Alex is okay," Crawley said as Ian walked out of the lift.
Ian nodded before steeling himself to walk into Alan Blunt's office. Although he expected that this meeting would be to tell him that Alex had been kidnapped, there was always the chance that Blunt would throw a curveball and he needed to be prepared for that. He knocked on the door and entered without waiting for permission.
"What's happened to Alex?" he asked before he'd even closed the door.
"Please, sit down Ian," Mrs Jones said.
Neither she nor her boss looked entirely comfortable. Ian thought he could see the tiniest hint of something, remorse maybe, on Blunt's face. Perhaps the man did have a heart then, buried somewhere deep beneath the surface.
"I'm afraid Alex was taken," Blunt said as soon as Ian had sat down. "We were monitoring the CCTV outside the school. A group of ten men ambushed him and dragged him into a car. We have identified two of them as being known members of the Triad and are working on identifying the others."
Ian let out a slow breath.
"Unfortunately," Mrs Jones said, picking up the narrative, "someone else was involved too."
"What do you mean?"
"We were following the cars on CCTV and putting together a team to intercept them and pick Alex up. However, someone else beat us to it. He took out all of the Triad members in the cars and then drove off with Alex."
"Who took him?"
"Yassen Gregorovich." Ian swore softly under his breath.
"Has he made any demands?"
"There's been no communication from him yet. After Gregorovich drove away with Alex, they disappeared for a few minutes between cameras but we were then alerted by an emergency call to the police that Alex had shown up in a nearby café. He'd managed to escape but Gregorovich arrived a few minutes after Alex and took him as his hostage. We are still trying to find where he took him."
Ian swore again. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, holding his head in his hands. At least he knew that Alex was okay. That Yassen wasn't his enemy and that he would keep Alex safe. But Blunt and Jones did not, so Ian kept up the act for their benefit. It would not be good if they found out about his and Yassen's friendship association.
Ian stood up abruptly and began pacing the room.
"Rider-" Blunt began.
"If you're planning on telling me to 'calm down', just don't," he snapped. It was Blunt's fault that this was all happening anyway; if he'd listened in the first place and arranged for some agents to pick Alex up, Ian wouldn't have had to get Yassen involved.
Just then, there was a knock on the door and Crawley stepped in.
"We've had a message from Gregorovich." He hurried over to the desk, holding a laptop.
Send Ian Rider alone, unarmed and without any method of communication to the car that is waiting outside. Wire £1 million. The end of the message showed the bank details for the account Yassen wanted the money paid into.
Ian immediately put his MI6 issued phone and gun on the desk and removed his watch - the three things currently on his person that MI6 knew about and which went against Yassen's demands. By leaving them here, they would be unable to follow him, which was exactly what he wanted.
"Rider-" Blunt began again.
"-If you are about to say anything that goes against his demands and will therefore put Alex in even more danger than he is currently in, don't bother." He took a deep breath. "I am going. I am going to go alone and unarmed. You will arrange the wire transfer."
"We can't let you go into this without backup, Rider."
"And if you send me in with backup, Gregorovich will kill Alex."
"And what will he do to you when you arrive wherever he's sending you, without backup?"
"If he wanted me dead, he could have arranged that easily enough. He sent a car here. He could just have easily come himself and shot me when I left the building. He could also have come here and taken me by force. You know as well as I do that there's nothing he can do to me there that he couldn't have done anywhere else. Now arrange the transfer."
Five minutes later, Ian climbed into the back of the car that was waiting for him, idling on the curb outside of the bank's entrance. There was a blindfold on the back seat beside him. The car also had a darkened screen between the front and back seats, so Ian couldn't see the driver although, in the darkness of the evening, Ian wouldn't have been able to identify them anyway.
"Put it on," the driver ordered, the instruction coming through a speaker in the upholstery on the roof of the car.
Ian quickly complied and the driver set off. He sat quietly in the back, knowing that it was quite a drive from Liverpool Street to the safe house. After they had been driving for some time, he felt the car slowing down and the jostle as they pulled onto the drive. They were here.
"Get out and knock on the door," the driver instructed.
When Ian took the blindfold off, he saw that they were in the garage. Yassen's car was already there. He went over to the door and knocked. Yassen answered and let him in.
"What happened to you?" Ian whispered as he took in the mud caked onto Yassen's clothes. He wanted to double check that MI6 had held up their end of the bargain without Alex overhearing, but Yassen's appearance had momentarily distracted him from his original opening question.
"Your nephew," Yassen replied with a smile. "He is quite the escape artist."
Ian smiled. Alex was certainly proficient in the art of causing trouble and had managed to escape from Yassen! That was quite an accomplishment for a twelve year old without any proper training. "Have they sent the money?" he asked.
"Yes."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Keep it for Alex," Yassen said with a smile. "I don't need it and, anyway, he's the only reason I have it."
Ian smiled back. "See. You do have a heart!"
"Tell anyone and you're dead," Yassen joked back.
"As if I would!" Ian retorted, mock offended. "Alex?" he called, and a very dishevelled looking Alex came out of the living room. His blazer and trousers were muddy and ripped, and his school shoes were scuffed too. "Are you okay?" he asked, pulling him into a hug.
"Yeah I'm okay," Alex said, before whispering into his ear. "Is that man really your friend?"
"Yes, he is."
Alex seemed puzzled by this. He looked from Ian to Yassen and back again. "Umm. You do know he has a gun, right."
"Yeah, I do."
"And he shot a policewoman."
"You shot a policewoman?" Ian asked incredulously.
Yassen just shrugged. "She would have followed us. And it went straight through the muscle. No bones or arteries."
Ian sighed. He supposed it would have been too much to hope for no one innocent to get hurt, but a through and through bullet wound was a much milder injury than it could have been. He focused his attention back on Alex. "You're filthy. What happened to your uniform?"
"He tackled me in the woods," Alex said, glaring pointedly at Yassen.
"You dove out of the car."
"You handcuffed me and dragged me out of the café."
"You ran away from the car when I told you to stay put."
"You kidnapped me."
"I stopped you from being kidnapped."
Ian had listened to their back and forth in silence but now he spoke. "Why don't you tell me everything that happened?" he suggested, leading Alex over to the sofa and sitting down.
After Alex had finished telling his story, during which neither Ian nor Yassen had interrupted (although Ian had been delighted when he found out precisely how Alex had managed to escape from Yassen - clearly those 'childhood magic tricks' had been worthwhile lessons to pass onto his nephew, as had subtly ensuring that Alex had an accessible paperclip on him at all times), he looked at Ian. "Can I have a hot chocolate?" he asked with a cheeky grin. "And Yassen said you'd explain."
"Yes you can have a hot chocolate," Ian replied with a smile. "And explain what?"
"Why those people kidnapped me. Why Yassen has a gun. Why you're friends with him."
"Ah," Ian said, knowing that this had to have been coming but dreading it all the same. "They all have very big and complicated answers, Al… I'll explain as much as I can, but first I'll make your hot chocolate." He looked at Yassen who had taken a seat on another sofa. "You want one?"
"I'll have a coffee, thanks."
Alex followed him into the kitchen and watched curiously as he flicked the kettle on and then got a saucepan out of a cupboard and the milk out of the fridge.
"Have you been here before?"
"Yes."
Alex nodded as though he had expected the answer. Then he examined Ian for a moment, as if he were deciding whether or not to ask another question. "Are you a spy?" he blurted out.
Ian nearly dropped the bottle of milk that he was pouring into a saucepan.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, I got kidnapped today. Twice. And you're here instead of the police when I'm supposed to be a hostage. You're friends with my hostage taker and he has a gun. And the secrets. And you're away a lot. And you get hurt a lot. This house… also you practically dropped the milk when I asked."
Ian thought for a moment. Alex was only twelve - that was far too young to know what he did for a living. But, at the same time, he'd already worked it out. And it wasn't like keeping him in the dark had kept him safe today… maybe it was time to tell him… enough to be able to keep him safe, or safer, anyway. If he knew, at least he wouldn't get taken by surprise like he had been today. And he would know what types of people he was up against if anyone tried anything. He sighed.
"Okay, Alex. When I've made our drinks, I'll tell you."
"So you are a spy?" Alex asked again, this time with a triumphant tone to his voice. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"Go and sit with Yassen."
Alex begrudgingly walked back into the living room. Ian stood at the hob, stirring the milk until it was heated through and then adding the chocolate to melt.
He took it off of the heat and made Yassen's coffee while the hot chocolate thickened up a bit. Then he poured it between two mugs, added some squirty cream that he found in the fridge, some mini marshmallows and grated a little more chocolate on top. Was he making them overly decadent to give himself a few more precious seconds to work out what he was going to tell Alex, and how? Yes… but it was going to be an extremely fine balance between telling him enough of the truth to answer all of his questions and not traumatise him… without just an 'I'll tell you when you're older' answer for everything.
"Oh yeah that's an 'I'm a spy and now I have to tell you about it' level hot chocolate," Alex said with a grin as he walked back into the lounge. Sometimes he reminded Ian of John so much that it hurt.
He set the tray down. A glance at Yassen told him that the assassin was very much looking forward to seeing him squirm under Alex's questioning. That was something else that John had passed on.
"Okay," he said once he had handed out the drinks and sat down on the sofa. "To answer your question in short; yes, I am a spy."
"That's much cooler than being a banker."
"Being a spy isn't like Bond, Alex," Ian said with a soft smile.
"So what is it like?"
Ian thought for a moment. "Well, there's a lot of paperwork that they never show Bond doing."
"That's not an answer!"
"Yes it is. In films like Bond, the spies jump from one mission to the next. It's all excitement and adventure and action. But in real life, a lot more happens behind a desk. Yes there are missions, but they aren't all explosions and high speed chases."
Alex looked at him quizzically for a moment. Ian could tell that he wasn't satisfied with his answer and was deciding whether to press the point or move on.
"So what was today about?"
"The people who took you from school are part of an organisation called the Triad. I stopped them from doing something bad that they wanted to do a little while ago, so they decided to kidnap you."
"To get back at you?"
"Yeah."
"Huh." Alex sipped his hot chocolate. "And you asked Yassen to stop them?"
"I asked Yassen to pick you up from school and look after you."
"Why him? Do you work together?"
"I trust him. I trusted that he would protect you. And my boss said he wouldn't do anything without more evidence and I wasn't in the country, so Yassen was the only other person who was close enough to help."
"So you don't work together?" Alex asked suspiciously.
"Not officially, no."
"What does that mean? 'Not officially'."
"It means that our bosses don't know that we sometimes work together when we happen to be in the same place."
"Or that you're friends?"
"That's right."
"So they wouldn't like it if they found out?"
"Not really, no."
Alex seemed to ponder this as he drank some more of his hot chocolate. Ian really hoped that Alex wouldn't continue with this line of questioning much longer. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue to sidestep what Yassen did for a living. If twelve was too young to find out that he was a spy, it was definitely too young to find out that he was friends with an assassin, and that he trusted him with his life.
"Is that why you said that I was your hostage when you took me from the café?" Alex asked, turning to face Yassen.
"Yes."
"So people wouldn't think that Ian asked you to get me?"
"Yes."
"How did you find me in the café? I mean, you weren't following me when I left."
"I put a tracker on you," Yassen said nonchalantly.
Alex's mouth gaped open.
"It was a precautionary measure. Other members of the Triad could have taken you while I was dealing with the ones who took you from school," Yassen explained. "I needed to know where you were."
"Huh. So getting out of the car and running through the woods was pointless too?"
"Yes. Although I… did not expect you to get out of the handcuffs and jump from a moving vehicle."
"Yeah, well from where I was sitting, it was a better option than going with you."
"Evidently."
Alex turned to face Ian again. "How long have you been a spy, Ian?"
"About seventeen years."
Ian could sense the new direction that the conversation was going and he didn't like it. A few seconds ago, he would have been delighted to think they were moving away from Yassen, but he realised with sickening horror that they were barrelling towards John and Helen… and that was an even worse conversation… the truth about their deaths… Scorpia… and that circled back to Yassen anyway! A glance at Yassen told him that the assassin was just as uncomfortable with the almost certain line of questioning that was to come.
"So… when my mum and dad died, you were a spy?"
"Yes."
"Did they know?"
"Yes, they knew that I was a spy."
"Why don't you talk about them?"
Ian sighed and took a deep breath. "Because it makes me sad, Alex. Your mum and dad were the closest people I had in my life. They were my best friends. Even now, I look at something and think your dad would like it. Or I see something and I know it would have made your mum laugh. Or I say a stupid joke but your dad isn't around to hear it and laugh with me. I see plays advertised at the theatre and I think we should buy tickets but then I remember that they aren't here to go with me anymore. And it makes me angry. Because they had so much to look forward to. They had you and their whole lives to be with you as a family and it got taken away."
Alex looked at him quizzically again but Ian couldn't work out what he was thinking this time.
"Does Jack know?"
The sudden jump away from John and Helen took Ian by surprise. Maybe Alex had sensed his unease. Maybe he understood that once that conversation started, there would be no coming back from it. Maybe he wondered whether he was ready to hear it. Whatever the reason, Ian was glad that they weren't going to have that conversation today.
"That I'm a spy?"
Alex nodded.
"No. She doesn't."
Alex nodded as though he had expected the answer.
"So… what happens now?"
"Well, we need to go home soon. But first we need to talk about what's going to happen next. I don't know if my bosses will want to talk to you, Alex, to get your version of events. If they do, I want you to tell them that Yassen brought you straight here from the café."
"Tell them I kept you handcuffed and blindfolded in a room and that you didn't see anything," Yassen added.
Alex nodded as he took in all of this information. "And, I guess don't tell them that you told me that Ian sent you?"
"Best not," Ian agreed. "They would probably think that he was lying to you to get you to go with him, but it'll be best not to tell them anyway."
"Okay. So he shot the people who took me from school. Then I ran away and he grabbed me from the café, and brought me here."
"You've got it."
"I've got some more questions."
"I'm sure you do, but I'm afraid they're going to have to wait, Alex," Ian said, ruffling Alex's mud splattered hair. "We have to get home and I have to let my boss know that we're both okay."
"What are you going to tell them?"
"Not much," Ian admitted. "That I arrived and Yassen confirmed he got everything he asked for. Then he got you out of one of the rooms, and drove us home."
Alex examined him. "You've done this before, haven't you?"
"Not exactly like this, no. But I have lied about Yassen before. Now finish up your hot chocolate and we'll get you cleaned up a bit."
Alex did as he was told and Ian wiped away his hot chocolate moustache before they got ready to leave. Ian was grateful that he'd had the foresight to keep a spare school uniform in the safe house. There would have been no way that it could go unnoticed that Alex was covered in mud when he hadn't been at the café. Finally, Ian took a paperclip from the desk and put it back onto the zip of Alex's backpack; MI6's analysts would certainly be eagle-eyed enough to pick up such a tiny change in detail if they happened (or were instructed) to look.
"Here, put these on," Yassen said when they stepped into the garage, holding out two blindfolds.
"Why are we being blindfolded and handcuffed again?" Alex asked. "We already know where we are."
"My bosses will be on the lookout for us," Ian explained. "If they find the car on CCTV and see that we aren't blindfolded, they'll know something's up."
"Oh. Makes sense."
Newly handcuffed and blindfolded again, Yassen helped them both into the car. None of them said much on the journey. Ian knew that he and Yassen would need to talk soon, but it could wait until Alex wasn't around. His nephew might now know that he's a spy but he definitely didn't need to know much more than that. Not for a while at least.
"I'll drop you off on the other side of the river," Yassen said after they had been driving quietly for a while. Ian would have guessed that they were nearly home and what Yassen had just said confirmed it.
"Thanks, Yas."
The car came to a stop and Yassen opened the door to let them out. He pressed the key for their handcuffs into Ian's hand and drove off again before he had time to uncuff himself. He quickly unlocked Alex's too and they began the short walk home.
When they arrived at the house, Ian saw that Yassen had been right not to drop them off at the door. There were two agents waiting outside, and he had spotted several others in unmarked vehicles just on their short walk. Presumably others had been stationed along the other access roads to the house; if Yassen had driven up to the house, they would have closed in and attempted to capture him. MI6 would have gotten involved in a high speed pursuit across London and Yassen would have gotten away. That was the more likely outcome of the two, anyway.
One of the agents opened the front door to let them in and Jack almost ran to greet them. She had been going frantic with worry, and pulled Alex into her arms before he'd got both feet inside the house. In the busyness of the moment while both Alex and Jack were distracted, one of the agents told Ian that they'd be remaining on guard and would let Blunt know that they had arrived home, but that he was to ring the office as soon as he could.
He waited until Alex was in bed and Jack had gone to have a bath with a glass of wine to calm down before he picked up the phone.
"We're home," Ian said once the phone was answered.
Ian heard Crawley breathe a sigh of relief at the other end of the line. Although the agents on guard had already let Blunt know that he and Alex were home, Ian knew that Crawley wouldn't have been able to relax until he heard from him himself. "What happened?"
"Not much. He checked me for bugs and confirmed that he'd received the money. Then he brought Alex and let me check that he was okay, blindfolded and cuffed me and shoved us back into the car. When he let us out, he just put the key for the cuffs in my hand and drove off. By the time I'd unlocked mine and taken my blindfold off, he was gone, so I unlocked Alex's cuffs and took off his blindfold and then we walked home. He dropped us off on the other side of the river. Presumably he guessed that there would be agents waiting at the house."
"How's Alex?"
"Shaken and he's got a few bruises. But he's okay."
"We'll need a statement from him."
"Not tonight, John. He's already in bed and he's been through enough for today."
"Bring him to the police station on Kings Road tomorrow at 10am. We'll debrief him there."
The next morning was sunny with barely a breeze disturbing the frosty tree branches. A glance out of the window told Ian that there were still agents guarding the house. That eased the knot of anxiety in his stomach a little; he might know that the 'threat' from Yassen was actually non-existent, but the threat from the Triad was still very real and there was every possibility that they would try to get to Alex again.
Crawley had already informed the school what had happened yesterday and that Alex wouldn't be in today, so Ian let him sleep in for a while - they didn't have to be at the police station until 10:00, and it would only take ten minutes to get there. He, on the other hand, had been up at the crack of dawn and had already been debriefed by Blunt and Jones.
Alex made his way downstairs just before 8:30. He picked at his breakfast but Ian knew he hadn't really eaten anything. He hadn't been able to eat much either. Neither had Jack. They sat quietly at the dining room table, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only thing breaking the silence before Alex headed upstairs to get ready. By 9:30, Alex had showered and dressed and they were ready to leave. At 9:45, Ava, the agent who had been stationed inside the house, walked into the dining room.
"It's time to go. There's a car waiting outside."
Ian grabbed his and Alex's winter coats off of the rack in the hall - both of them had been designed by Smithers and there was a bulletproof layer hidden inside each of them, not that Alex knew about it - and they both also put on hats, gloves and scarves before stepping out into the frosty January air. Alex grumbled that they were wrapping up so well when they were going by car, but he did as he was told anyway. Ian was glad of that - their woolly hats had also been a present from Smithers; they too were bulletproof, and he wanted Alex to have as much protection as possible. Only his and Alex's legs were completely exposed, but Ian still hurried Alex to the safety of the armoured car as quickly as he could. Jack was reluctantly staying home and waved them off from the doorway.
They climbed into the car, and Ian recognised their driver. Wayne Fairclough was one of MI6's top evasive drivers. Ian would have pitied anyone who tried to make a move on them while they were driving today if it hadn't meant that they were targeting Alex. And at least MI6 were now taking the threat seriously.
They pulled up outside of the police station and Ian counted five agents posing as innocuous citizens as he got out of the car. Even with the agents and the bulletproof clothing, Ian felt horribly exposed as he walked behind Alex, protecting his nephew's back, as they walked inside.
"Good morning. You must be Ian and Alex?" Crawley asked when they entered the police station.
"Yes," Ian said and Alex nodded.
"If you'd both like to follow me." Crawley led them through to an office on the ground floor. "Can I get either of you a drink? Tea? Coffee? A glass of water?"
"Could I have a coffee please?" Ian asked as he sat down on the sofa beside Alex. "Milk, no sugar," he added, as though Crawley didn't know how he liked his coffee.
"Of course. Would you like anything, Alex?"
"No thank you," Alex said quietly.
"Okay. Let me know if I can get you anything at any point."
Crawley left to get Ian's coffee, leaving the two of them alone for a couple of minutes. Despite not being in an interrogation room, Alex was obviously uncomfortable. Perhaps the prospect of lying about what had happened the day before was getting to him. Or maybe he was just intimidated by being in the police station.
"It's okay, Alex," Ian murmured soothingly. "They just want to find out what happened yesterday." He had deliberately interpreted Alex's nerves as the latter of the two options, knowing that there were cameras in the offices; he wouldn't put it past Blunt to be watching them even now, before the 'interview' began.
Crawley soon returned with his coffee and a cup of tea for himself.
"Okay, are you ready to start?" he asked Alex.
Alex nodded.
"I'm going to turn on the camera, just so we've got a record of our conversation."
Alex nodded again.
"Before we start, I want to reassure you that you aren't in any trouble, Alex. We just need to get a statement from you for our reports. So, can you tell me what happened yesterday, Alex?"
"I was leaving school," Alex began nervously. "I was waiting outside for my friends to join me because we walk home together and a group of men came up and surrounded me. They said I had to go with them… that Ian had sent them. I didn't believe them and I didn't want to go with them but they dragged me into a car."
"Do you remember how many men there were?"
"Umm… there were three in the car with me - the driver and a passenger in the front and someone in the back with me."
Alex closed his eyes and scrunched his face up as though he were trying to remember. Ian saw his fingers twitching too as he mentally counted the men who had surrounded him. Alex really was very good at this; he'd told Ian yesterday that there were ten men, and he knew from his conversation with Blunt and Jones that he had counted correctly. Ian wondered whether Alex's nerves were, at least in part, an act too.
"Maybe there were eight or nine in total," he said after a few moments.
Crawley nodded. "And what happened when you were in the car?"
"They were driving me down the road when something happened. There were three cars; one in front, I was in the middle one and another one behind. The car in front of us crashed suddenly. And then… I don't really know what happened. Our car sped up and the man in the back and the front passenger both jumped out. They tried to get me to jump out too but we were going so fast… The driver was unconscious or something and we were on the wrong side of the road so I grabbed the steering wheel and tried to avoid all of the cars driving towards us. I couldn't get his foot off of the accelerator so we just kept going." Alex's voice had become more panicked as he recounted the events of the day before, and Ian leaned across and held his hand. Alex glanced at him and Ian smiled supportively.
Crawley poured Alex a glass of water from the jug on the table behind him and nodded again, encouraging Alex to continue. He took a sip of the water before he did.
"A man jumped off of his motorbike and landed on the bonnet of the car. He started shooting at the people who took me from school… like, he had a gun and just started shooting it! And he kept telling me to open the door so that he could help me."
"Did you open the door?"
"Eventually?"
"Why did you open the door for him?"
"I don't know. He was shooting at the people who took me from school. I guess I just figured that meant that he was on my side."
"And what happened after that?"
"Umm," Alex said, pausing to think. "It all happened very quickly… oh he drove through the tunnel and … and people with machine guns fired at the car. Then we stopped on the other side. He told me to wait in the car but I didn't want to and I ran until I saw a café. They called the police but then he showed up and took me. The policewoman followed us and he shot her and then drove off. Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine," Crawley assured him.
"He shot her…" Alex said again.
"What happened after the man drove off, Alex?"
"Umm," Alex said, shaking his head as though he were trying to concentrate and remember. He took another sip of water. "He took me to a house somewhere."
"Do you know where it was?"
"No."
"Okay. And what happened when you arrived at the house?"
"He just put me in a room and left me there with my hands cuffed behind my back and a blindfold on. And then after… I don't know how long it was, but Ian came. And then he made us get in the car and he drove us home. Or nearly home; we had to walk a bit."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"Not really. He kept saying that he wanted to help me when the other men were shooting at us. And then he said that I was his hostage to the police when he took me from the café but he didn't really say anything after that."
"Okay. Thank you Alex. Is there anything else you can tell me?"
"Umm. I don't think so."
"Do you have any questions for me?"
"Who were the people who took me from school? They knew my name. Why did they take me? And who was the other man? The one who took me to the house. He knew my name too."
"We don't know yet," Crawley said carefully. "But we will do everything we can to find out and in the meantime there will be plain clothed officers watching you. They'll be as unobtrusive as possible," he promised. "We've also informed your school and security will be increased there too."
So MI6 would be keeping an eye on Alex, at least for now. Well that was a relief in case the Triad tried again before they could be persuaded to leave him alone.
"Here's my direct line," Crawley said, handing them both a business card. "If you remember something that might be relevant, or you feel like something is wrong, give me a call."
"Okay," Alex said as he took the card. Ian just pocketed his with a nod.
"The officer who brought you here will take you home again," Crawley said. "You are welcome to stay here for a few minutes before you go."
They were driven home again and while Ian knew that Alex would be kept safe while Blunt and Jones sorted out the Triad's threat, the whole experience had shown him just how vulnerable Alex would be if his work decided to go after him again. He could not leave Alex in a situation where he was unable to call for help if he needed it, so that evening when everyone was in bed, he sat down with an old distress beacon and began to modify it so that it would not be a frequency that MI6 would pick up as one of their own.
It took two weeks for the Triad's threat against Alex to be neutralised; they would leave him alone in exchange for some of their imprisoned members to be released. And by then, Ian had finished modifying and testing his emergency beacon. It had worked exactly as he'd hoped it would. MI6 had been none the wiser and he had picked up the alert. If anyone ever targeted Alex and tried to kidnap him again, he would be able to call for help and Ian would know exactly where he was.
