Whoa, thanks for all the support! Really, you guys are amazing.
Guest review replies- profile.
Signed review replies- PM box.
Oh! One more thing- 100th reviewer (!) gets to see the next chapter one week early- just make sure you're signed in and have your PM system enabled.
Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.
O-o-O-o-O
Time stopped.
"He knew we were here?" Snake hissed.
"Looks like it."
"Oh, great. We're screwed."
Wolf shot the owner of that so helpful comment a dark look, and Eagle shut up.
A rather pale Mrs. Jones spoke once more. "I should go- we'll be in touch."
She abruptly left the room.
"What do we do?" Eagle wondered aloud, looking to Wolf and Fox for guidance.
Wolf- because he was their leader.
Fox- because he was a sneaky spy and knew about this kind of stuff.
"The only thing we can do." Fox turned to briefly look at that broken boy, and the grey man who had made him that way. "We confront him."
O-o-O-o-O
Alex couldn't believe what he was hearing.
K-Unit was here- not just in the building, but behind the glass, watching him.
Which meant they had been here all along.
They hadn't done anything.
They hadn't intervened.
Even when they could see he was being hurt.
Which meant... they didn't care about him.
No! That wasn't true- it couldn't be.
They cared about him... they did.
They had to! Because- because-
Th door burst open; three soldiers and one spy crowded in the room, shooting Blunt venomous looks before they rushed toward him.
"Cub, hold tight, we'll patch you up in just a-"
"Stop."
The order made them all freeze- they were soldiers, after all, they were used to obeying commands in that same dominating, powerful tone.
Snake clenched his jaw. "Cub's hurt." Because of you. "He needs medical attention."
"My agent will receive medical attention later." Blunt's tone offered no room for argument.
But they did, anyway.
"He's not your agent," Eagle snarled, furious. "He shouldn't have been dragged into this in the first place."
"And he does need medical attention," Fox defended- logical as always.. There was no reason to wait; unless, of course-
Alan Blunt's features hardened. "I hired you for this private job, almost two months ago, until your next tour. You obey my orders- and only mine- until further notice. Is this understood?"
He was right- and they all knew it.
Besides the fact that Fox was a spy, and under Blunt at all times.
"Yes, sir," the forced replies came reluctantly (that was an understatement, considering they would be happy to oblige an order to kill the man that sat before them).
"Good." Blunt gestured to the other chairs around the table- which had been pushed to the edge of the room, to make room for- to make room for...
Fox swallowed.
One table- albeit a bit larger than the usual tables that were in interrogation rooms.
Six chairs.
Six people.
But-but- Cub was on the floor, arms wrenched behind his back, handcuffs bolted to the hard cement- allowing roughly six inches of leash- not nearly enough to properly move around (which was why Cub had been so vulnerable while he had been 'interrogated').
There were usually only two chairs in interrogation rooms- three, max. So why six?
Unless...
Blunt had prepared for this beforehand (it was pointing toward that conclusion, anyway)... but if Blunt had already known they'd been coming, known that he'd already have four guests needing chairs, and one 'regular customer' that he would have already had a 'special' spot for... why the extra chair?
Realization dawned on him.
Oh.
Oh.
Ben felt sick.
Yes, Blunt had only planned for five people to be using the chairs (including one for himself, the bastard)- but he'd want to show Alex.
Show Cub that he'd had the decision, the choice, the opportunity that Cub could have sat with them, like normal, regular human beings... and make sure Cub knew that he'd chosen to chain him up like a dog.
Chosen, and-
Fox closed his eyes momentarily.
This dehumanization needed to stop.
"Why doesn't Cub come and join up as well?" Ben suggested casually, making sure it was neither order nor something that could be putt of easily.
The rest of K-Unit rumbled in agreement.
"Alex's rightful place is on the floor," Blunt said simply.
Wait, what?!
Before that statement had even registered-
"At my feet," Blunt added. "Wouldn't you agree, Alex?"
Cub, who had retained a kneeling position, looked down quickly as he was addressed. "Of course, sir."
"That's ridiculous!" Wolf snarled. "Cub isn't some dog, he's a teenage boy, who deserves just as man rights as any of us!"
"On the contrary," the Director of MI6 began. "Alex is my property... and I can do whatever I see fit to anything I own."
O-o-O-o-O
Alex is-
Cub is-
...property?
Blunt's property?
Had he just openly said that?"
In front of them?
In front of Cub?!
K-Unit was too stunned to react- at first.
Fox glanced at Cub.
Head bent low, Cub was making himself as small as possible, but otherwise accepting.
Accepting it.
Accepting the abuse.
Like it-it was normal, casual.
His mind was a mass of anger and- He hadn't. He hadn't just compared Cub (their Cub) to a piece of... property.
No, it wasn't just physical abuse- it was psychological. There had to be lasting effects of it- who could come away unscathed from a person that had successfully claimed dominance over said-person, being constantly told and retold that you were someone else's property, and that they owned you. That kind of twisted logic allowed justification for-
For...
Missions.
Deaths.
Anything Blunt deemed fit, Cub would- he would be forced to accept.
Adapt or die.
No, not die.
Never die- but close to death, so close- to feel the pain.
Fox's first course of action wasn't attacking Blunt- no, he needed this to stop, he needed Cub to know.
Know that he wasn't a dog.
Know that he was human- normal, no; human, yes.
Know that he wasn't Blunt's property.
"It's OK, Cub," Ben said in a soothing tone, which should have made Cub relax. He pressed further. "No one owns you."
A brief pause- and he saw it.
It was slight- very slight, too slight- but he saw a fraction of the tension leave the boy's shoulders.
Eagle glared. "Especially not him." The statement was directed to the grey man, who remained unfazed.
The teenager stiffened as the Director of MI6 began speaking again. "Tell them they are wrong, Alex," Blunt said in an amused tone. "You said they would listen to you, remember?"
And the trap was set.
Hope's fire dimmed low.
K-Unit's features hardened.
It was a lose-lose situation, and Cub was right in the middle of it.
If Cub refused, Blunt would make him pay for disobeying.
If he didn't, K-Unit would have a choice- if they protested, saying he was wrong, it was just proving to Cub that K-Unit wouldn't listen to him, and Blunt would easily take control, and they would lose any trust they had begun to build with Cub. If they didn't object... Cub would think he was Blunt's property.
"You can't make him do that!" Wolf burst out. "It's not fair to him!"
Alan Blunt gazed at him, unblinking. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "One more thing... if K-Unit does listen to you- I'll let you stay with them. For one week."
The teen's breaths hitched. An entire week? That was before Blunt would send him on another mission, but- a whole week- of resting. With K-Unit.
Fists clenched, the soldiers remained quiet. It was unfair. It was totally and completely unfair to ask that of Cub- to force him and them to say that Cub was Blunt's property, and for the young spy to watch.
Cub would choose the one week- they knew.
In the long run, it was better for him... wasn't it?
It had to be.
They would rebuild that trust during that one week- they would. Cub would get to rest, eat, relax. He needed that.
"You're wrong," the teenager said quietly, shoulders hunched. "I- I'm his... property."
"And?" Blunt prompted.
"You... own me."
And- K-Unit didn't say anything.
That was the worst part- not defending him.
Not protecting him.
Even when he needed it- when he desperately needed it.
Blunt turned sharply to them. "K-Unit? What do you think of it?"
Wolf forced himself to calm down and not lose control. Signaled his men to keep quiet. "You own him," he said through grit teeth. "Cub is your property."
Lips twitched- a ghost of a smile. "That is correct."
(Knife in the back- and... the twist of the handle.)
Fox looked back to Cub, and saw-
His heart broke.
Cub, eyes glossy and distant.
Cub, as far away from Blunt (and them) as the restraints would allow.
Cub, abandoned.
Cub, betrayed.
Cub, and they couldn't protect him.
Alan Blunt remained distantly bored, while K-Unit resisted the mutual and shared fury.
The door opened; two agents entered.
Blunt spared a glance at the teen. "K-Unit and I need to talk in private," then, "Take it to its room."
Take it to its room.
It.
Not, "Take him to his room."
No, it was Take it to its room.
Rage poured through all of the soldiers.
Blunt couldn't be serious.
No way.
But... he was.
And- the agents. They-
...weren't doing anything.
They didn't look shocked or surprised after being ordered to take a child to his room- at the bank. More importantly, they weren't horrified after Blunt had just referred Cub as an object, a belonging... one that Blunt solely owned and controlled.
Ben felt ill.
It was only then when he realized how corrupt the Sixth Department of Military Intelligence really was.
O-o-O-o-O
Alex should have been happy.
He should have- because he'd just gotten a week of leave... to spend with K-Unit.
The same people who had just told him (confirmed) that Blunt owned him,.
He was Blunt's property.
Details were hazy after that- he would need medical attention soon.
Briefly, he heard to the door open- which spiked his survival instincts enough to see who-
His heart sank- it was the lead agent again.
"Take it to its room."
It.
Not him.
Which meant-
His mind raced, taking apart the sentence- realizing its significance.
Knowing the Blunt had chosen the words deliberately and that, he was-
Property.
And that Blunt owned him... and they weren't doing anything (not protecting him. They said they would. They lied).
And he would have-
The boy recoiled back from the agents as they neared- hands tugging harshly on the metal, dragging him (it) to his feet, and the door and-
Away from K-Unit.
The teenager shot the soldiers a panicked look- they were leaving him again (betrayal).
And- despite the comfort he felt with them, a break from the pain- maybe it was a good thing.
They all left him.
No different than the others.
O-o-O-o-O
The person that controls the gameboard can and will control you through the other pieces.
O-o-O-o-O
Question(s): Am I going too heavy on the dehumanization dog/master relationship? The plot is planned out well enough, but is this going at decent pace?