A/N: Let's, for the purposes of this story, assume that Sayle was asleep when Yassen arrived at Sayle Enterprises at 4 o'clock in the morning. Not RR compliant. This was written for the AR Bingo prompt "Free Space". Cross-posted from ao3. Hope you enjoy!
A Meeting That Could Have Been
Alex was still thinking of the submarine and the strange delivery of the sealed boxes as Nadia Vole led him back to the room with the Stormbreaker. Today was the 31st of March, little more than 24 hours until the ceremony in London, and he still had more questions than answers.
What had been in the boxes and why had Yassen shot someone for dropping one? And how was the Russian assassin involved? Alex was running out of time to find the answers. The Stormbreakers would start being shipped out later today already, and he could still feel Nadia Vole watching him closely. She had clearly not forgotten catching him snooping around in the tunnel.
As they passed the doors into Block A, a man turned a corner into the corridor. He was dressed in black, with fair, short-cropped hair and the sleek body of a dancer. With a start, Alex recognised him.
The man moved with a grace that reminded Alex of a panther, perfect economy of movement with a coiled menace lingering just beneath the surface. Alex had seen him the night before, moving swiftly and soundlessly down the jetty.
It was Yassen Gregorovich, the contract killer. The man who had killed Ian Rider. Despite the exhaustion from his poor night's sleep, Alex suddenly felt wide awake.
Yassen was coming their way, crossing the corridor with purposeful strides, his feet curiously silent. Alex found himself hoping that the Russian would simply walk past them. He clearly had somewhere to be.
And yet, as they drew closer, Yassen's eyes flickered from Nadia Vole to Alex, and a strange emotion flashed across his face. For a moment, Yassen actually looked surprised. He slowed his step, and to Alex's despair, Nadia Vole brought them to a halt as well.
Yassen was still staring at him. His expression was inscrutable again, but he studied Alex's face closely. Alex's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't shake the impression that Yassen knew exactly who he was.
"Herr Gregorovich, how good to see you." Nadia Vole turned to Alex. "Herr Gregorovich is a technical consultant."
Technical consultant? That was a lie, and not a very good one. Yassen didn't look anything like one of the technicians Alex had seen walking around. He wore no identity tag, and no white coat. Even Felix Lester would probably have considered it odd, but Alex knew better than to question the story. He nodded.
Nadia Vole turned back to Yassen, waving a hand at Alex. "This is Felix Lester, the boy who won Herr Sayle's competition. He is staying with us for a few days to try one of the Stormbreakers before the public release tomorrow. He prefers to be called Alex."
Yassen's icy blue eyes seemed to bore into him. "Alex… Lester?"
Alex forced himself not to show any of his nerves. He didn't like the way Yassen had paused at his fake name. He tried to tell himself that there was no way Yassen could see through his cover. But even as he did, he knew that wasn't true. Ian Rider had spotted Yassen at Sayle Enterprises and been killed to take that knowledge and more to the grave. And just the evening before, Sayle and Mr Grin had commented on Alex's resemblance to his uncle. Yassen would be able to tell as well, and he didn't need to be completely certain to decide to kill him.
He recalled Mrs Jones's words from two days ago when she had shown Yassen's picture to Alex and warned him about the Russian.
Just remember, Alex Rider. You're never too young to die.
He didn't see any weapons on Yassen, but the cold blue eyes were those of a professional killer. He probably wouldn't even need to be armed to take Alex out.
Alex relaxed his posture and smiled. A brief, polite smile, like Felix Lester might give when introduced to yet another new person at Sayle Enterprises.
"How do you do?"
Yassen nodded at him, looking at him for a moment longer. Alex's heart raced, but he forced himself to appear calm. Then, at last, Yassen's attention turned to Nadia Vole. He seemed to have dismissed Alex's presence entirely, and Alex let out a silent sigh of relief.
When Yassen spoke again, it was in quiet German.
"Ist Sayle zu sprechen? Wir müssen einige Dinge klären."
Alex didn't let himself react. He knew German well enough to have understood Yassen's words, but Felix Lester had never been to Germany and would not be able to make sense of it.
"Herr Sayle ist im Haupthaus," Nadia Vole replied.
Yassen nodded in thanks. He glanced once more at Alex, his blue eyes unreadable. "I hope you enjoy your stay."
"Thank you."
After that, Yassen continued on his way. Alex followed Nadia Vole back to the room with the Stormbreaker, feeling relieved to be out from under the sharp eyes of Yassen Gregorovich.
It looked like his cover had held up. And he had even learnt something new. The conversation in German between Yassen and Nadia Vole had been vague, but it did answer one question Alex had had. Yassen was meeting with Sayle, which meant that Sayle had to know Yassen was here.
Maybe he should contact MI6 after all. If Yassen was working with Sayle as his question to Nadia Vole suggested, then Sayle was collaborating with a known criminal. Blunt and MI6 had been right to be suspicious of him. Good people didn't hire contract killers. Herod Sayle was too good to be true.
But even now Alex didn't know enough. He didn't know what had been in the silver boxes Yassen had delivered or why Yassen had killed a man for dropping one. He wanted to see it through, to find the secrets Ian Rider might have discovered.
His luck had held up this time. He'd just have to hope he didn't run into Yassen again before he put all the pieces together.
Yassen stood at the windows of Herod Sayle's office, looking out over the grounds of Sayle Enterprises and the armed guards patrolling below. It was not the type of security Yassen himself would have chosen, but then that wasn't his job. Yassen was a well-paid man. He was here to oversee the delivery of the virus on behalf of his employers. Any other services Sayle required of him would come at an additional cost, like the rush-job assassination of Ian Rider, after the secret agent had been about to run to MI6.
This was the first Yassen had seen of Sayle since that day. He had departed soon after the deed was done, to meet the submarine. There had been sporadic contact, mostly about the details of the planned arrival, but the businessman himself had been asleep when Yassen had come in at four in the morning.
"Will the Stormbreakers be finished on time?" Sayle demanded from his seat at the desk. The desk was made of walnut and so large that he seemed to almost disappear behind it. "Your late arrival held up the production process."
"Everyone is working round the clock. They will meet the deadline."
The schedule had been tight by necessity, due to the cold chain logistics involved with the transport of the virus. Yassen had told Sayle as much himself, before he'd left to join the submarine for the final leg of the journey. He didn't mention it now. He knew the man would not want to hear it.
It took a certain type of mind to plan the deaths of millions of schoolchildren and it was not one particularly susceptible to reason.
"They'd better," Sayle said snidely. He pulled out a white, silk handkerchief and wiped his forehead. He glared at the papers on his desk. "I have waited too long for this to fail."
Yassen said nothing. He watched the fountain outside, eyes distant. In his mind, he was replaying the meeting he'd had not half an hour earlier, with the English schoolboy that had won a competition to be here.
Another security issue.
Felix Lester, although he preferred to be called Alex. The latter Yassen was willing to believe, but he would be very surprised if the boy was truly called Lester. If Yassen were a betting man, he would've put money on his name being Rider instead.
He had recognised that face, the serious brown eyes and blond hair, although it had been fourteen years since Yassen had seen those eyes looking back at him. Alex was the very image of his father. It had been strange to see a smaller, younger version of Hunter after all these years. Yassen had never given thought to the fact that the man might've had a child.
But for Alex to be here now, under a false name, mere weeks after Yassen had shot his uncle… It had MI6 written all over it. Sending a child spy to do their bidding. A child who had clearly not been told anything about his father. It seemed the British intelligence services had found a new moral low to sink to.
And if Alex found any evidence while he was here, it might still spoil the operation.
Yassen glanced back at Herod Sayle. "I noticed that your young guest bears a strong resemblance to Ian Rider."
"Who, Alex?" Sayle's face twisted up in distaste. "The bliddy boy has been snooping around," he muttered. "Impudent whelp." Then he smiled, showing off a row of white teeth. "He won't be a problem for much longer. Mr Grin is arranging for him to have an accident on his walk this afternoon."
Yassen considered him for a moment. He was tempted to advise Sayle to lock Alex up instead until the operation was finished. Better to have him under lock and key than to risk him surviving and contacting MI6. But he knew Sayle would never accept it. The man bore an irrational hatred of English schoolchildren and Alex had already drawn his ire.
An accident then. One that was likely to leave Alex dead, if Mr Grin's men were any good at their job. Yassen doubted it. The security arranged by Sayle left a great deal to be desired. Ian Rider had been allowed to walk around for weeks, pretending to keep an eye on security. It hadn't been until Yassen arrived and instantly recognised the name and face that he had been removed–and just in time too.
Alex would have a chance. Yassen was glad for it, even if it likely put the operation in danger. He remembered the day in the Amazon rainforest all those years ago when the boy's father had saved his life with a single bullet, and found the thought of the boy's death sat poorly with him. He did not wish Alex dead.
And he recalled the boy's eyes now. Brown and serious, much like his father's. There had been trepidation there, a hint of fear in his body language despite the attempts to hide it. Alex must have been warned about him, to have recognised him on sight.
And yet, Yassen had also seen a fire in the boy's eyes. A determination to continue despite the risks. Yassen could respect that.
Yes, Alex would have a chance indeed. And perhaps when he walked away from a failed assassination attempt, he'd think twice about working for MI6 in the future.
Yassen nodded. "Good. I will return to the assembly room."
As he left the office, Yassen wondered if he would see Alex again.
Two days later, Yassen found himself on a windy rooftop, looking at Alex Rider over the corpse of Herod Sayle.
"One day I'll kill you," Alex told him, that same fire Yassen had noticed before burning in his eyes.
Yassen smiled.
A/N: Please leave a review if you enjoyed it!