All in the Treachery
The knowledge still shook him. Owen had been numb. Dominic Royce was a traitor. Owen was just…at a loss. He was numb, His ears were ringing. He had never really trusted anyone before. Maybe he wouldn't ever again. It just hurt. Sure, Royce hadn't been the nicest of bosses but Owen had at least thought he was one of the good guys. Instead, he had been working with a traitor.
Owen had heard next to nothing during his trial. The words had just flowed past and above him. The trial was a sham. He knew it was a done deal. Crawley was known to be thorough. The sentence wasn't the worst part.
People mostly just left him alone after they figured out he was pretty much mute but otherwise decently capable. Owen knew how to go around virtually unnoticed. He'd been doing it his whole life. Only Royce had paid him much attention. Owen felt rather sick to his stomach at this thought.
The door to his isolation cell clicked open. A man, Juan, peered inside. That was a bit strange. Most prisoners had left him alone until now. Mainly because he had been neither too friendly nor offensively rude.
"You're not a cokehead."
Owen shrugged. He refused to even remotely pretend that he was. Crawley could rot for all he cared. It was fairly obvious to anyone with two working brain cells. "I made the wrong people very mad."
Juan's eyes widened slightly. Owen knew he'd probably just scared him off. People were not eager to interact with marked men. "Oh."
Owen rubbed his face. Juan kept looking at him through the bars. Well, this was moderately alarming. The last person who had been interested in him at all had been…Royce. "Can you do math?"
Owen rubbed his face. This could end rather badly. "Yes. I'm good at it. My last job was accounting."
Owen had done quite a bit of auditing financial records. His entire degree was in accounting. It was how he had caught the Alex Rider issue in the first place. Alan Blunt had left a tangled trail, but he had left a trail.
"I can get you a real job. Instead of stamping license plates."
Owen looked at Juan. This had gone terribly wrong the last time. Then again, he was in a cartel-ridden prison. They all hopefully knew not to trust each other. "At what sort of price?"
Juan grinned at him. Owen let out a sigh. "Well, it's on the up and up this time. You're not as mentally deficient as they're all saying, though."
Owen gave him a skeptical look. Juan let out a sigh. "The head is looking for an accountant. The last guy got stabbed after he outed a bookie."
That sounded more plausible. Juan brightened as he continued. Owen felt himself beginning to lose focus. Juan plowed on, oblivious to the world. "...so as long as you don't put the spotlight on any of the gangs, you should be fine."
Owen was unable to keep his reply completely normal. His voice turned wry. "I'm sure."
There it was. They just wanted someone who would do the prison books and look the other way for the other stuff. Owen knew that being self-righteous didn't get you anywhere in life. "I'll do it."
Juan shook his hand rather vigorously. Owen felt the man's muscles ripple against him. "Good man, good man."
Owen watched as Juan left. Well, he may as well. It wasn't like he was getting out of prison anytime soon. Owen let out another sigh as he sat on his cot. Hopefully, this wasn't going to get him too many social obligations with Juan. He wasn't a social person. Then again, not being a social person had gotten him into trouble in the first place.
Owen shuddered at the memory of Royce. The man had just used him. And now they were both in prison. Just great. It wasn't even the fact that he was a traitor that stung the most, though. It was the fact that he hadn't even brought Owen in on the plan and Owen still got to pay for the sins he had unwittingly aided.
Using Alex Rider was wrong. What in the fuck was wrong with everyone at MI6?! He was right. Honestly, he just hoped that the accusations of "Julius Grief" being a terrorist wreaked Alex's "career." Were the motherfuckers even paying him?!
Owen let out a sigh and flopped around on his cot. Thankfully, his cellmate was away. He noticed a loose brick in the wall. Just great, the place might collapse on them at any second. Owen doubted that the prison was up to safety standards in the UK. He touched the brick. It felt fake.
Owen noticed that it seemed closer to rubber than brick. He wiggled the brick out of the wall. Inside was a listening device and a note. Owen glanced at the letter. Dear Andy… He felt a surge of rage. He hated being called any shortening of his last name. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. No.
They hadn't even asked him if he'd be willing to take an assignment from them. He was just there to do his (undeserved) time. Owen took a lighter out of his pocket and set the letter on fire. It didn't matter if they would break him out. He was not dealing with Crawley ever again.
Owen glanced around before shoving the listening device down the sink. They could go fuck themselves. He was an adult. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
Owen knew then and there that he was done with MI6. Juan came back into his cell a bit later in the day.
"The head wants to see you."
Owen got up and let Juan help him up. The man began brushing him off to try to get rid of the lint. "This should be interesting."
And it would. Owen knew that he was beginning a treacherous life. One where he could trust no one. Hopefully, Juan wasn't an MI6 plant. That would make his life complicated.
Fin
Based on a prompt by Zyzyax (see story summary). This is the 326th work in the Winds of Change 2022 Alex Rider Prompt event, where a new prompt (plus a short 1-3K work) is posted every day. For more details, see the AO3 collection. We have an index of all the prompts used in this event so far and going forwards - join the discord to get access to the online index (and to take part in our events, chat about everything and anything, and meet a load of awesome people!