12. SERGEANT
AUTHOR: cuby18
To say that Sergeant Morrison was surprised upon getting his notification that he was invited to a party that one of Cub's friends was throwing for him was an understatement. At first he just dismissed it as a stupid joke from one of his subordinates that failed to learn that someone does not to play any kind of jokes on him unless they enjoyed endless repeatings of the obstacle course, but as time wore on he was just glad to have something to take his mind off paperwork, and when he got another notification his curiosity won and he decided to take the bait. He wrote back to inquire some more about the supposed party and its other invitees and received some information that put a whole thing into a completely new perspective. If he was to believe that ''Tom'', half of the intelligence personnel from English speaking countries were coming, as well as his own K-Unit. He frowned some more when he remembered the snippets of conversation that he overheard when he was leaving his last meeting with Blunt about their joint operation. While exiting the office he almost bumped into that fat man – what was his name again? Smyth, Smither?– that was standing there and talking with Jones about the propriety of bringing glitter to a party and whether or not Tom would enjoy getting anything special himself as the party organiser.
At the time he paid no heed to their words, but now… He still remembered how MI6 managed to snatch one of his agents less than a year ago. Fox was a part of his best Unit and after he left they needed three months to finally fill the empty space in his old Unit after Wolf scared the first five options to the point where they begged to be transferred anywhere with at least a few miles between them and the crazy Unit leader, even if it meant leaving their prestigious position in the SAS in exchange for a return to a regular army despite all the effort they had to put to even get a chance to join SAS. All the while the rest of the Unit was just standing there in obvious enjoyment, letting Wolf speak for them. Just thinking about that nightmare repeating if MI6 got any other unit member in their clutches sent shivers down his spine. There was no way he would be leaving any of his soldiers alone with any of them, especially in the vicinity of alcohol. The only consolation was that Blunt wasn't attending, especially as he didn't have enough time to gather any enforcement to take with him to the party to help and restrain their attempts.
Still, there was a chance of it being a real party, not just MI6's ploy to steal some of his men. It was a small chance, but in his position it was imperative to look at a problem from all possible angles, meaning that he had to check the other invitees to see how they fit into the equation. That Harris person seemed pretty inconspicuous, no obvious connection to any intelligence, his only connection to Cub was that he was his supposed best friend… but as it was him that came up with the idea for the party he might as well be on to a plan. Although, he didn't really believe MI6 would lower themselves to a point where they would issue the invitations to a 'funcy' party. If there was everything at least a bit predictable about Blunt it was that he had some modicum of decorum and that he was very unwilling to lower his standards when it came to it.
He searched on. James Sprintz: billionaire's son, no apparent value for either MI6 or anyone else, Sabina Pleasure: reporter's daughter, might know something about her father's work, or, maybe, another friend; the same went for Hale, nothing worth mentioning. He almost closed the not-so-legal site, when the last name popped up. Fiona Friend. It might be a coincidence, but he remembered someone with the same name from the time when he was still a soldier about to be promoted to the officer. Marcus Friend, younger brother to Sir David Friend was a good soldier, it was a right shame when he was forced to retire from the field due to a minor injury that got his family on his case when they demanded his honourable discharge. Sadly he couldn't say the same about his older brother or even his parents, but he could still talk to his niece. She might have got her uncle's personality.
Standing in the shadowed corner of the room with a beer in hand he couldn't help but think that he had never been more mistaken in his life. Speaking to Fiona was … mentally and physically exhausting, more so than even RTI and the obstacle course combined. He didn't believe it possible to talk about one's superiority and wealth for ten minutes straight without noticing that you're boring your conversationalist half to death and that they couldn't care less about your words. But Fiona proved him wrong. If he ever heard another word about how large and ideal for hunting their estate was, it would be way too soon. To think that he looked forward to that conversation; the mere thought made him nauseous, and he prided on being able to remain unperturbed no matter the situation he found himself in.
When one of the Australian soldiers (that were as a whole way too cheerful and easygoing for his liking – he would show them real army if they ever visited Brecon Beacon) came to ask her to dance he was so grateful he could kiss him right there and then, but managed to quench the instinct almost immediately. Instead he further busied himself by searching for potential threats: he quickly noticed the fat man, Smithers he heard someone called him, dealing out gifts, and, remembering the conversation he witnessed, he unobtrusively moved deeper into the shadowed corner to avoid any dangerous 'gifts' that he was bound to be carrying on his person if rumours (and sadly also personal experience that he was trying hard to erase from memory) were anything to go by.
As time went on he came to several conclusions: the food was surprisingly good, booze also, and it looked like while the people in attendance obviously had some ulterior motives for being there, these mostly revolved around how to secure the attention of their beloved, and not around stealing his soldiers to work for them. At the same time, he could sympathise with Shulsky, who was sitting in the corner nursing a beer and not speaking to anyone. It seemed to him like he was dragged there rather unwillingly by his boss that set his sights on Jones. He was just contemplating if he could perhaps be persuaded to join the army (if intelligence was allowed to steal their employees why couldn't he?) as he seemed too devoted to his work and didn't care much for parties, when Byrne came back from his conversation with Jones, walking on air, and dragged him away to celebrate.
With no one decent left to talk to – he spoke to Cub briefly (or Alex Rider as he got to know) to congratulate him on surviving this far and giving him a coupon for a month in his camp whenever he felt like it as he truly didn't perform at all that shabby the first time and he could use someone to demonstrate to all lazy recruits that they're largely just a waste of space with no hope to ever meet the criteria – as he didn't really feel any need to converse with intelligence officers more than strictly necessary, he was about to leave when he noticed Tulip standing alone, and, deciding to have at least some fun, he walked over to her.
''So, I hear you've decided it's prime time to rekindle some old flames?'' he asked her, enjoying her obvious annoyance at having been asked the same thing numerous times already after her conversation with Byrne.
Her sigh was all the answer he needed. ''What are you doing here, Morrison?'' she finally asked.
He shrugged. He wasn't about to tell her that he was spying on her. ''Just checking to see what Rider thinks of being in the army,'' he said nonchalantly, searching the table for some more food. He knew that she was very protective when it came to Alex and other agencies, and he also knew that she didn't expect another attempt to take him away to come from a new direction.
''I don't think he would agree,'' was all Jones said after a moment of silence.
He grinned. ''Would you like some pizza?'' he offered. ''Since you have already had my soldiers run a check on it,'' he added with just a right touch of annoyance. It wouldn't do for her to know that he was waiting for the very same thing before eating anything himself. Luckily the unit showed at least some of their training by coming to the party on time so that he didn't have to wait that long to assuage his suspicions about there being something in the food. Although he was still miffed about the salute they gave Jones upon the arrival, something that solidified his belief that she was plotting something, he was ready to let it be given the new information that he gathered during the party.
She scoffed lightly at his words. ''Like you weren't doing the same.'' And here went his plan. Tulip was always just a bit too good at her job and way too perceptive for his liking.
Knowing when he lost he simply nodded at her, knowing that nothing he might have said would change her mind.
He once again headed towards his corner, exchanging some pleasantries with the redheaded woman that opened the door when he arrived and whom he deemed surprisingly reasonable despite her obvious American accent, and slowly ate the food on his plate. He noticed, with no small amount of satisfaction, that K-Unit seemed to finally take notice of him and he took great pleasure in watching them squirm after quickly standing to attention, Fox included. Throwing them a mean smile that showed off some of his teeth, he made his way back and sat down on the chair that gave him a perfect view of the room and the spectacle that happened soon after he sat down.
It took all of his self-control not to choke on the drink when five glitter bombs went off simultaneously and covered the whole unit and that annoying Fiona girl in glitters, pink for the soldiers and green for the little menace. This new development even somehow lessened the last remnants of fury that enveloped him during their conversation. He was even willing to listen about how rich and influent her family was once again if it meant seeing her covered in something disgusting. And watching her trying to keep her holier-than-thou attitude after spilling a drink over her dress on top of the glitters… it really made his day. And if he accidentally bumped into Smithers on his way out and congratulated him, who would ever know? All in all, he thought as he exited the house, the whole ordeal didn't turn out half as bad as it promised to be, especially for a 'funcy' party.