The Cunning Hand Chapter 7, an alex rider fanfic

Chapter 7

Author's notes: Many, many embarrassingly profuse thanks to utemia who gave me concrit for this and other chapters. I'm not a very avid reader of spy or military genre, so I've made a few mistakes in this story. Things like Jack being allowed to leave and Ben's place as a safe house. But, hey, we can only learn, right?

Despite all their bantering, K-unit was still an elite SAS unit. They were part of the best military branch in the country. There were only two reasons that Alex stood any chance at leaving the house. The first was that they were not trying to keep him in. Their primary objective was to keep a threat out. So they were looking for people coming towards them, not people leaving. The second was that they were in the middle of London. No urban environment was ever going to be as secure as an isolated prison facility.

And Alex was determined. Ben had gone after Gregorovich and been shot. It wasn't going to happen again. He wasn't going to sit here and let other people put themselves in danger for him.

He would find Yassen Gregorovich and…

Alex hesitated. And what?

He shrugged it off. That would come later. Right now, he had to get out of here.

But how?

Jack couldn't help him. It was one thing to ask her to help him pickpocket a man so that he could investigate Damian Cray, it was another matter entirely to ask her to distract an SAS team so he could leave. Besides, she'd approved having them protect him rather than sending him out against Yassen. She probably wouldn't want him to go.

He'd have to have a distraction. But anything that so much as hinted at an attack would make them tighten security. Which was the opposite of what he needed.

He thought about the gadgets Smithers had given him. The smoke bomb would never work, of course. That would be seen as an attack. The Medical Alert bracelet that called MI6 rather than an ambulance had fitted with his cover as a sickly child (not that anyone believed it) but was rather beside the point now. However, he hefted the miniature deodorant can thoughtfully.

"It's a spin-off from the incense we made in Thailand," Smithers had explained when giving it to him. "It has shorter range but a quicker reaction time. One squirt of that and you'll know exactly what your enemies have had for lunch. Just make sure not to get caught in the spray," he cautioned. "Or you'll be joining them."

Alex grimaced at the thought. But it would work. He hoped.

The next morning, Alex woke them all by vomiting nosily into the toilet. Eagle, obviously on duty, was the first there. He took one look at Alex being sick and turned away, going green.

"Quick, Snake!" Eagle called sounding panicked. "He's been poisoned!"

Alex looked at him irritably in between vomiting. It wasn't very easy, Eagle was obviously standing as far down the hallway as he could without loosing sight of Alex. "I have not been poisoned," he rasped.

"How would you know?" Eagle asked. "They wouldn't have exactly labeled it, would they? 'Here there be poison'."

Snake pushed past him. "Have you eaten anything that we haven't?" He asked Alex urgently, hovering in the doorway. The toilet was in a separate room to the bathroom and therefore wasn't very big.

"No," Alex said hoarsely. "We have all our meals together." He leant back over the toilet. Eagle winced and looked away.

"No snacks? Drinks?" Snake asked.

"No snacks. Only the drinks in the fridge."

"They've been cleared." Snake sighed. "It's probably just the flu. You picked a good time to get sick, Alex."

"Sorry," Alex rasped, feeling a little guilty. Mostly he just felt ill. Smithers hadn't told him it would do that.

"Where's Cub?" Wolf asked as he returned to the house. He had been patrolling outside and just swapped shifts with Hawk.

"He's been poisoned," Eagle said helpfully.

Snake shot him a look. "He hasn't been poisoned," he reassured their leader. "He's sick in bed. It's probably just the flu."

"Does he need to see a doctor?" Wolf asked, a little lost. As part of their training they were taught first aid but the focus had been more on field dressing and splinting bones not on how to deal with sick children.

Snake frowned. "If he's still sick tomorrow then we'll take him," he decided. They accepted that. Snake was the most competent medic in the team. "I'm sure he hasn't been poisoned but there's no point taking chances."

At about ten o'clock, Alex crawled out of bed. He was starting to feel human again and if he left it any longer K-unit would be trying to wake him for lunch. They'd checked up on him a few times during the morning but he hadn't had any trouble looking genuinely ill. He felt it.

He dressed carefully, making sure he was wearing his modified Medical Alert bracelet, and made his way to the toilet. All the other windows would be watched but the window above the toilet was too small for an adult to fit through. As it was, Alex was going to have trouble squeezing through it. But it was located at the back of the house, so he wouldn't be visible from the street and once he was out it, he'd only have to worry about the single member of K-unit that was patrolling the streets.

Unless they noticed that he was gone. He squashed that thought as he hoisted himself up onto the toilet, careful not to hit the flush button with his knees. That would give him away. He winced at the creak that the window made as it was opened but it didn't jam or lock.

Then he squeezed himself out, legs first and suffered only a moment of panic as his shoulders stuck in the frame. But with a little wiggling, he was free and dropped to the ground.

Jack came home that afternoon to find what seemed like a full scale armament happening in the living room. The SAS men were cleaning and assembling guns, looking ready to go to war.

"What's going on?" she demanded a tad anxiously. "Where's Alex?"

"He left," Wolf grunted.

Jack looked alarmed. "How did that happen?" she asked.

"Well," Eagle said, explaining. "He was sick, so we left him alone. It'd do him no good if we all caught whatever he had. Only when we went to check on him later, he was gone. Either he got better quickly or he was faking being sick. Probably faking it."

"So he got past four highly trained SAS operatives and vanished?" Jack clarified.

Eagle nodded sullenly, good humour gone. "We didn't think he'd leave. We're supposed to be watching for people trying to take him away."

"So what are you doing? Are you going after him?" She looked at them, one after another. She wanted to ask if he was in danger but didn't. Alex always seemed to be in danger.

"MI6 is arranging it," Wolf said tersely. "He'll still be safe."

Alex hesitated when he reached the warehouses along the river of the Thames. He didn't have a plan. He wasn't sure if Yassen would be here. He didn't know what they were planning. Granted, he never usually had much information before his missions, but somehow it felt like he had less than normal.

It didn't deter him. He'd come this far and he knew that evading K-unit again would be impossible. This was his only chance.

It was the middle of the day. The place was buzzing with activity. Trucks were going into and coming out of warehouses. People were scurrying to and fro, carrying boxes and papers. Most were wearing hardhats and work boots. Alex walked purposefully through the mass, as though he knew exactly where he was going. He didn't hurry, just walked at a determined pace, weaving through the traffic.

The numbers that he had seen in Ben's file belonged to a group of three warehouses near the end of the row. Beyond that there was a large empty space, maybe for parking, or for unloading goods off boats. Then the warehouses started up again.

Alex looked at them and kept walking. Like the other buildings, the doors were open and men hurried to and fro. Boxes were being moved. A forklift was operating somewhere inside. Yet, unlike the other warehouses, there were no trucks. Alex doubted it would be apparent to anyone who was not already suspicious, but for all the movement, there was little actually going inside or coming out of the buildings.

Alex had nearly gone past the third of the warehouses when he noticed a metal stairwell up the side of the building. It was a fire exit. Without pausing to consider, he ducked down the side of the building and ran up it, trying to muffle his footsteps on the bare metal. About halfway up, he had to slow to a walk as the excess movement of his running was causing it to shake.

The door at the top of the stairwell had no windows. It was impossible for him to see in. He hesitated. The nearest window was too far across for him to lean out and look through. If there was anybody inside, he was caught. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Inside was a fairly bare room that seemed to have been converted for use as an office. There was one other door set into the opposite wall. There were a few chairs and a desk.

And sitting at that desk was Yassen Gregorovich who had looked up the instant the door was opened, eyes cool, assessing and accepting. "Alex Rider," he said. "What a surprise."

Alex sat down in one of the chairs and stared at Yassen across the desk. He decided that this really, really had been a bad idea. He should stop doing things without thinking about them. "Hi."

A small smile played about the Russian's lips. "Has MI6 sent you?" He asked. "I wondered if they would."

Alex thought about it. It wasn't a bad assumption except, he realized, that he didn't know why Yassen was in London. He hadn't even thought to ask. He'd been too distracted by the knowledge that Yassen was alive. "Ah, no. I'm not actually supposed to be here."

"You were supposed to have remained under guard," Yassen stated.

"Well, yeah," Alex said slowly, trying to work out how to explain the whole story. He hadn't been joking when he told Eagle that the truth would probably make Yassen want to kill him. "Sort of." He smiled apologetically. "I never told them what you told me, so when they found out you weren't dead, they must have thought you'd come after me. Or something." He remembered that they had seen Yassen near his house. He hoped that they were wrong. The fact that he was still alive gave him some confidence.

"An … interesting assumption," Yassen said. Which didn't do much to put Alex's fears at rest. "Did you believe them?"

Which, to Alex's mind, was a very nasty question to ask. There were all kinds of traps hidden in that question. A wrong answer would be highly offensive. And possibly lethal. "I couldn't exactly prove them wrong," he evaded. "And then they said they saw you around, so they wouldn't have listened anyway."

At that Yassen frowned. "Yes. I was given some information regarding you. It was highly surprising. I have been trying to find you ever since I recovered."

Alex looked at him, startled. "You've been trying to find me? Why?"

That amused Yassen. "To see if you acted upon the information I gave you, of course. I had been certain that you would." The amusement faded. "But you had vanished entirely. Much had changed at Scorpia during my absence, and I heard nothing from them."

Alex took a deep breath. "I went to Scorpia," he said. "It took me a while to find them." He grimaced, remembering the mansion and BASE jumping into a secure facility.

Yassen was watching him with an odd light in his eyes. "Yet you didn't stay with them," he sounded disappointed.

"I would have stayed with them if they hadn't pushed me," Alex said weakly. It sounded like an excuse, even to his own ears. "I told them I couldn't kill. Not deliberately. But, Mrs. Rothman, she said if I had the right target then I would be able to. So she sent me after someone from MI6. Someone I hated then. But I couldn't do it."

Yassen raised an eyebrow, which was possibly as close to expressing surprise as he ever got. "I was nineteen before they sent me on an assignment," he said, and there was a hint of something in his voice that made Alex uncomfortable. "And I was one of the youngest that they had sent out. Sending you out must have been a serious oversight."

Alex shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't think it was an oversight. Mrs. Rothman… she didn't like me." It seemed a poor summation of her feelings. The anger at his father's betrayal, the warped kindness, her intent to kill him long before he betrayed them to MI6.

"Julia Rothman loved your father," Yassen said.

"It seems like a lot of people did," Alex said.

Yassen gave a small smile. "He was very personable. Much like you, in fact."

Alex looked away awkwardly. "She didn't like me. I mean, I found out why later." He stopped. Should he say it now? He shrunk away from the thought. "She tried to kill me." He looked at Yassen. "I would have stayed," he repeated quietly. "I preferred it there."

It was a confession he hadn't made before. But it had been true at the time. He had liked the way that everyone was friendly to him. The way everyone had greeted him, had known who his father was. It was a direct contrast to his training with the SAS where he had been unwanted. Only, it had been fake. They had been using him too. At least MI6 wanted him alive.

"They tried to kill you?" Yassen asked quietly. There was no emotion in his voice.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, first with Invisible Sword," he hesitated, unsure whether to explain further, then pushed on. "Then, when that didn't work, they sent a sniper after me."

"Then you are very lucky. Snipers sent by Scorpia do not often miss."

"He didn't miss. I mean, he hit me. I would have died except…" he shrugged, not wanting to get into the medical side of the story. "Yeah, I was lucky."

"Why did they try to kill you?" Yassen asked. Alex winced. Now it was time to explain.

He took a deep breath and tried to find his courage. Almost certainly, he would rather be anywhere else. He wondered it Yassen would stop him if he stood and walked out. He had come here of his own choice, after all. But he couldn't do that, either. He had come here to end this, to set it all straight and that was what he was going to do. Yassen didn't deserve to be lied to either.

"You said my father was an assassin and he worked for Scorpia," Alex started, trying to explain coherently. Once he started talking it was easier, but he didn't have the courage to look at Yassen. "But he wasn't, not really. He worked for MI6. He was spying on Scorpia the whole time. His capture in Malta and his death on the bridge were set ups. And Mrs Rothman found out. She had him killed. She got his best friend to put a bomb on his plane. That's why she hated me."

He stayed still, looking anywhere but at the man in front of him. There was no movement, no sound, nothing to acknowledge that the Russian was still there.

"You are certain of this?" Yassen said after a long silence. Alex still didn't look at him.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I am."

There was another long silence. Alex didn't dare move. He had told the truth. What happened now was out of his hands. Yet… he couldn't help but be afraid. Would Yassen kill him, now that the John Rider he knew had proven to be an act?

Somehow, it seemed Yassen knew what he was thinking. "Look at me, Alex," he said. His voice was almost gentle. Against his will, Alex found his eyes dragged up to the other man. It was almost a relief to see that he didn't look angry or upset.

"The reasons we begin something are very rarely the reasons we have at the end," Yassen said. "Your father saved my life. It would have cost him nothing to let me die. Indeed, if what you say is true..." He paused reflectively. "It would have been better for him if I had. That is not the action of a man merely keeping his cover, Alex. And for that, I am grateful." His voice became oddly intense. "I may have loved your father, Alex, but I also love you."

Involuntarily, Alex looked away. Yassen had said the same thing onboard Air Force One, but he had been injured and dying then. Somehow, to have it said now was far more personal and uncomfortable.

"I…" Alex started then hesitated because he didn't know what to say in reply. What was there to say in reply?

"When I was your age, I would not have believed it either," Yassen said a hint of regret in his voice. "I did not believe it. But it is the truth."

Alex didn't have time to answer that, either because a moment later there was a knock on the door. A man came in and, giving Alex an odd look, handed Yassen some papers. "Johnston says it's ready," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Sir."

Yassen took the papers calmly. "Very well," he said. The man took that as a dismissal and backed out of the room.

Yassen flicked through the papers and then looked at Alex. "Even if MI6 did not send you to, it seems you are about to discover why I am in London. And now that you know, I cannot allow you to leave until it is over."

Alex looked at him, alarmed. He knew he had no choice in the matter. Yassen might not kill him but he did not doubt that the Russian knew many non-lethal methods of subduing him. He didn't know what was going on but it was always better to be conscious and unrestrained. "Just until it's over?" he asked.

Yassen nodded in affirmative. "It will not be long. The shipment will come in tonight. It should be gone by tomorrow evening."

"And then I'm free to leave?" Alex asked uneasily. He didn't like the thought of being kept here, even under no threat, while something happened.

"As free as you were to enter."

Alex smiled sardonically. "That's not awfully reassuring."

So, those of you who were waiting for Yassen (and I think you know who you are) was it worth the wait?