I am thinking of doing a companion piece but it will be separate so it can be a whole new story. This story will still have a solid ending so nothing will be affected. I miss the k unit element, so that'll be the companion piece.
"You got off?" said James incredulously.
"Yeah," said Alex. The shocks of his new reality made him feel slightly numb. James shook his head in wonder.
"You have got the luck of the devil," he stated. "Not many get to mess with the head and come out alive."
Alex was dreading the moment when the questions would start. He didn't have long to wait. James hit the nail on the head.
"So, what was that really about?" asked James. "The truth."
"Nothing. A simple misunderstanding," said Alex easily. James let out a sigh, clearly put out.
"That didn't look like nothing to me," James paused. "At least tell me whether you're alright or not." He gave Alex a pointed look.
"I'm fine. I'd rather not talk about it." James began to object, but then thought better of it and let it drop. Alex felt relieved. He still didn't like talking about his past; especially not with a bunch of other spies who could, more than likely, see through defenses as though they didn't exist.
"Do you want a tour? As in, a real tour?" James broke the silence. Alex glanced at his new friend. He realized he was making his companion uncomfortable and agreed. The blonde spy tuned James out as he prattled on about the different recreational centers and assault course. He paid scant attention to the spiel about education, and certainly didn't want to know anything about Basic Training. Thank Charlie he didn't have to endure that!
"Ms. Cross?" James said.
"James!" said Ms. Cross, smiling at the two spies. Alex just observed her. She wore high heels and had a plaid skirt with a blouse to match. Her blonde hair was twisted up in a tight bun on her head. She wore awfully black glasses and ink black make up which lined her eyes. She reminded him of Nadia Vole. He resisted the urge to shudder. She's not THAT woman he reminded himself.
"This is Alex," James was saying. "He's a new recruit."
You mean an FNG? Thought Alex. FNG was commonly known as "fucking new guy." It was a little something he picked up in the CIA prior to being held by Sarov.
"Do you speak French Alex?" Ms. Cross asked.
"Je parle madame françaises I speak French ma'am," Alex affirmed politely. "Je le parle couramment. I speak it fluently. Merci d'avoir posé. Thank you for asking."
Ms. Cross' eyebrows rose at his flawless French. She was impressed. Rarely, did a student speak such graceful French besides the few native French recruits.
"Combien de temps avez-vous appris le français? How long have you been learning French?" she asked.
"Depuis que je me souvienne. Since I can remember."
"Uh, Alex," interrupted James timidly. "We...kinda have to...er...go."
"Bien sûr. Désolé. Of course. Sorry," Alex said guiltily as he and Ms. Cross chuckled quietly at James' mock grimace. "Sorry, James," corrected Alex. "Forgot I was speaking in French."
"Je suppose que je dois y aller. Merci et heureux de vous rencontrer. Guess I gotta go. Thank you and pleased to meet you." Alex shook her hand, but quickly dropped it, and followed his friend.
James observed Alex as he gave more rundowns of the plumbing of CHERUB and how the organization was run. He soon realized that Alex's heart just wasn't in it. The only place the other teen seemed to take an interest was in the Mission Control room. Other than that, the teen lapsed into a silence that only James could seem to fill. But even a spy has limits and James was running out of things to say.
"Look, you're not the first one who hasn't wanted to be here. A lot of people drop and go into foster care."
"Alex!" Sabina tried again. "Don't shut me out again. Please." "Nothing's the same Sabe. I'm alone...I always will be."
"No!"
-Scene Change-
"They're dead Alex-" No! The Pleasures!
"Don't know what to do with you-"
Jack is gone...my fault!
"-have no one left-"
"Now, you're truly alone."
"Alex?" James peered closely at his friend. Even if he called the boy a friend didn't exactly mean the other teenager held the same definition.
Either way, there was something weird about the kid. He didn't just appear dead; he radiated death. That, in turn, made James want to shiver. There were lots of depressed kids at CHERUB, but this recruit seemed much different. James couldn't put his finger on it, but didn't really want to pry...too much. The kid's stance told him, he could cut him down without sweat. James didn't really want to test him.
"Sorry," apologised Alex. Despite his mood, Alex was as polite as ever. "Guess, I'm just tired. Can we do this tomorrow instead?"
"Okay," assented James. "Can you make your way back?"
"Yeah," sighed Alex.
As soon as Alex closed the door to his room, he stripped off his shirt and sat on the bed with a huff, unconsciously rubbing his chest. The scar left from where the bullet entered his heart a year ago still bothered him. If he exerted himself too much, it would throb and cause his breathing to become hitched. If he pushed himself too far, it caused hyperventilating.
Reluctantly, Alex dug into his unpacked bag and withdrew several bottles, and threw them into drawers and under the mattress. He lived with spies. He'd better get used to hiding stuff.
He unscrewed his pain meds and swallowed two pills. He grimaced and wandered over to the mini fridge. He popped open a can of coke and flicked on the news.
"We switch to live footage of the wreck of the subway bombing which caused a count of at least 68 deaths," a reporter announced. The screen flicked to an image of smoking wreckage.
"Yes, isn't it a disaster Mae," commented Mae's associate. "The police said it was a bomb packed with enough C-4 to blow a plane. The police supposedly had intel of the attack and evacuated most of the civilians out in time. The attack was supposedly initiated by the new terrorist group, Alam."
At that, Alex felt a stirring of unease, but he brushed it off. Alam was new. It has nothing to do with Scorpia; however, there was still that niggle of doubt in Alex's mind as he continued to watch the news. He realized his breathing was coming out in small gasps. With irritation, he reached under the mattress and pulled out his inhaler. It would do no good to begin having an anxiety attack at dinner. Three puffs later, he was fine and dived into his bag to retrieve his gray sweat pants. He pulled a sweatshirt and black CHERUB issued t-shirt over his head.
A quiet assurance from Mrs. Jones to Zara about Alex's qualifications as an agent had Zara grudgingly agree to give Alex the black t-shirt. What Mrs. Jones didn't know, was that Zara did it merely to throw the irritating MI6 head off her back.
Throwing his tennis shoes on, he stepped cautiously out into the hall. A ruffled looking James came down the hall.
"Ready to go?" he asked. Alex nodded. James motioned for him to go first, but Alex quickly shook his head. He liked James but he was nowhere near to trusting him yet. Besides, growing closer to people was dangerous. It simply meant more pain and hurt from loss. Somehow, everyone near him seemed to wind up dead and he had to watch it.
Dinner was supposed to be a quiet affair. Unfortunately for Alex, the prospect of shitting up a new recruit about Basic Training seemed to be tradition so, naturally, Alex got a lot of unwarranted attention. Despite the disturbing descriptions of Basic Training, Alex couldn't help internally smirking. How was training with K-Unit less grueling? How was being sent on missions at fourteen any less disgusting?
"I don't have to go through Basic Training," he finally said. The babble ceased immediately.
"What?!" A babble of voices broke out and cries of outrage could be heard.
"Why not?"
"Not fair!"
"What makes you so special?"
When Alex couldn't stand it for a minute longer, he said, "I've already been in dangerous situations. They figured I didn't need any training."
"What kind of dangerous situation?" asked a blonde haired kid called Dante. He had a slight Irish accent.
"My dad was an important official. Well, he wasn't exactly well liked," said Alex uncomfortably. Dante nodded, getting the gist, but he had a slight frown on his face.
"Wait, what happened?" said James. Kerry, James' girlfriend, elbowed him sharply. James let out a small yelp.
"Get over it," she snapped. "And don't be an insensitive git." Realization dawned and James sent an apologetic glance toward Alex. The other teenager merely nodded at him.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief as James and Kerry changed the topic of conversation away from him. At least his cover held…for the moment. He would have to be careful though. Alex Wright had better NOT make a mistake.
He twisted his head toward the clock. As he did so, his neck gave a twinge, which sent a spark of pain down toward his back. He bit his lip, and ignored it. He should really take his pain medication, but he hated being reliant on any form of medication and decidedly ignored his body's signals.
"Are you going to eat any of that?" asked James. Alex snapped his head back and clamped down on his tongue to stop from gasping.
"No. I think I'll just go take a walk. This is…a lot to process," said Alex, glad that his voice was even. He feigned a nervous teenager and dumped his food into the recycling bin. Behind his back, James exchanged a look with Kerry, and moved to follow Alex.
The teenager was already out the door. He could just make out Alex's silhouette in the darkness. He was heading towards the assault course. Carefully, James followed the spy across CHERUB's grounds. Something told him that his decision to follow Alex was a really bad idea. But part of him was curious. Just where was Alex going?
Alex knew someone was stalking him. He didn't know who and he didn't stop to look. Instinct kicked in and he kept walking resolutely towards the assault course. He wished he had listened to James' gab about the assault course, but it seemed to provide enough cover and a strategic layout toward effectively getting rid of his stalker.
He threw his head back as if enjoying the nice cool air and sighed loudly. Letting his head drop to his chest, he snuck a quick peek past his armpit to glance at the shadowy figure flitting in and out of cover. A flicker of annoyance flashed through Alex. They could've been more inconspicuous about following him. Ah, the easier it will be to evade and dispose of them.
He climbed the brick wall, hoisting himself up and over with the help of the rope. He quickly dived under the chicken wire and lay still and waited. His pursuer appeared over the wall and glanced around cautiously.
Alex's breathing slowed and quieted as the figure began deciding which way he'd gone. Seeming to shrug to himself, the shadow moved off toward the mud pit. Alex slowly rose to follow. Now the pursuer became the victim.
James was confused. Alex had disappeared over the wall and then permanently seemed to disappear. He shook his head in confusion and decided to backtrack from the mud pit. Alex was out for a walk, not to go sightseeing.
He just appeared up the hill when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He opened his mouth to say something when a hand lashed out and he was efficiently swept off his feet in one sweeping motion. The hand clamped down on his throat and a voice said, "Don't move or I will kill you. Understand?"
James garbled out a yes.
"Why are you following me?" came the menacing voice. James recognized that voice.
"Alex?" he coughed out. "Alex, it's me. James," he clarified a second later.
Horrified, Alex let James up. He retreated, his back against the wall. He was shaking. Why James? He thought. Why did you have to be so foolish?
"I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason for almost killing me," said James ruefully, slightly shaken up.
"You were following me," said Alex defensively. "I don't like to be stalked."
"So, what really happened that allows you to skip Basic Training?" asked James, joining him.
"Classified."
"No way," said James in disbelief. Alex glared at him, furious with himself.
"James, please leave it be. I just...don't want to talk about it," said Alex, once again feigning the typical scared recruit. James shook his head vigorously.
"You nearly killed me. You owe me an explanation," he snapped suddenly. Alex wilted inside.
"I've…I've had to kill before," he whispered, fumbling wildly for a reason for his behavior, hoping he could still pull off the average scared recruit. "When they came for me because of my family…they killed the agents and I had no choice. I…had to do something. The defense…it's always been there. I'm so sorry." James softened. Alex eyed him fearfully and it wasn't completely a fake one either. But his stalker seemed to buy his story and even clapped him on the back.
"Sorry, man," he muttered. "I didn't know. Look, I've had to kill before, too. I didn't really have a choice either." James looked slightly uncomfortable. Alex allowed himself to relax slightly both in relief and for the sake of his recruit persona.
"We have counselors here. They'd help if you need anything," suggested James. Alex immediately protested, "It's okay, really. I've…I've got a counselor already. No, really, I'm fine."
"Well, if you need anything…" James allowed the sentence to hang. Both boys slid heavily down to the cool ground. They sat there for a while, saying nothing, feeling the cool night breeze wash over them. Eventually, Alex began fidgeting. He didn't mind the silence but he longed to be alone. Luckily, at that instant, the sounds Kerry's calling could be heard.
"Duty calls," muttered James, rising stiffly to his feet. Alex internally smiled, but it quickly faded. No, I will not think of Sabina, he told himself firmly.
Alex accompanied James back towards the compound.
"And they're alive," muttered Kerry sarcastically. "Welcome back. Alex, Meryl Spencer wants a word with you."
"Meryl Spencer?" said Alex in confusion.
"Her office is down the hall near Zara's," Kerry explained patiently. "Block A: A223."
"Okay," said Alex. "Catch up with you later then."
It wasn't hard to find Meryl's office. He quickly memorized the layout of the building. Block A was the first building. The rooms inside were labeled beginning with the letter A and then a number.* Same with Blocks B and C.
He quietly knocked.
"Come in."
"Alex?" Meryl asked. Alex's eyes immediately began scanning the room as he took a seat. There was one door; one-way out. There were cabinets pushed against the walls and a few personal photos decorated the tops of them. a desk was placed a little to the side of the room and a few chairs sat opposite them.
"Take a seat." Alex hesitantly took a seat. "You're not in trouble so you can relax," she told him with a smile.
She misunderstood. Alex wasn't nervous. He was simply ready to flee if need be. It was an instinct that he didn't think she would understand.
"I called you in because our conversation is long overdue. I'm Meryl Spencer, your handler.'
"You mean mission controller?" interrupted Alex bluntly. Meryl patiently looked up at the ceiling.
"Yes."
"Great," muttered Alex under his breath. Meryl pretended not to notice.
"Now, there are a few things to take care of. Your name, I've been told, has already been changed. So, we'll skip to money. You'll be given an allowance each week-"
"My uncle left me some money. I think the BANK forwarded my account to you." The word, BANK, left a bitter taste in his mouth. Meryl nodded.
"Zara mentioned something about that. You'll be allowed to withdraw a little bit at a time. We'll set some aside for when you're old enough to go to university."
"Ian already set up a trust fund and there's a separate account that you probably don't know about for university," Alex told her. He failed to mention the emergency account Ian left him. Hopefully MI6 decided to allow him the privilege of keeping that a secret.
"You seem to know everything already," said Meryl in mild surprise. Usual recruits didn't know much about their own statuses. Alex just gave her a look. OF COURSE I KNOW. WHAT DID YOU THINK? it said.
"Okay, I guess that leaves classes. We assessed your tests.* They're a little below than what your age level should be at." She held up a hand to forestall his protests. ''I was already informed of your recent absences at Brookland. I'm sorry about your parents, but at CHERUB, we have counselors to help. When we think you're ready, you'll be sent on a few low-key missions. It has come to my attention that you're not required to experience Basic Training, but we expect your level of fitness to be kept up to its full potential."
"I already told Zara. I will NOT go on missions," said Alex hotly. "I don't care about the physical exercise. I can deal with that, but I will NOT go on missions!" Alex found himself on his feet. How did he do that?
"Hmm," said Meryl. She decided not to mention Alex had little choice if he wanted to stay at CHERUB. "Let me talk to Zara. Now, take a seat."
Grudgingly, Alex took his seat and stared back at Meryl. She met his gaze easily.
"Now, back to your schedule. You are an advanced martial artist. First Dan: impressive," she added. "We'll keep improving your skills there, however. Bruce, I believe you already met him, may be the best partner. If not, one of the older students or instructors."
Alex was still silent. He had his arms crossed over his chest in a rather pouty teenager style. He failed to mention his unorthodox manner of fighting. What could he say? He was used to staying alive. Rules were meant to be bent.
"You also need to pick a language. I'm aware that you know a few languages. Care to list them?"
"Spanish, French, and little Italian," he said hesitantly. Alex wasn't fond of listing off his capabilities. He felt vulnerable doing so.
"Okay. That sounds cool. See, we like it when our agents know at least one non-Latin based language. For instance, Kerry was taught Japanese. Her ethnic group is Asian. James took Russian."
"Well, I knew a little Japanese, but I guess I could take Russian, too," said Alex apprehensively.
"Well, you already know some Italian and some Japanese. Why don't you begin self teaching Italian and go with Japanese?" suggested Meryl.
"I guess."
"Great. I'll tell the trainer to give you a list of physical exercises for each day until we can nail down a schedule that is right for you. Your last doctor dropped us a note saying that you are on pills for being sick recently as well as being on PT?"
"Yeah."
"You'll continue that with the doctor. He's from MI6, I believe. You'll get your schedule tomorrow after breakfast if you'd head down to the Rec. Center. Other than that, that's all for now. Alex." She caught the boy as he rose. "Some of the kids call me their mum. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"Sure," he lied. What else could he say?
