I'd forgotten I'd written this - so, here, loyal fans, have another update.
:D
DISCLAIMER: Sadly, they're just not selling those bookrights.
Alex headed down to Smithers' office, taking lift to the basement, having been instructed to go back up to the foyer once he was done. He had a strange feeling that he was only allowed to go down to the basement because he had 'business' down there; if it hadn't been authorised, he would never have got through.
Smithers gave him a fat smile as he knocked on his open door. "Alex, old boy!" he said, cheerfully. "Come in." he looked around. "Where's the new boy?" he asked, suddenly, strangely delicate.
Alex shrugged. "He had something else to do." He told him, carefully. "You've got things for us?"
"Oh, yes." Smithers grinned at him. "Now…" he pulled out to rather bulky bags – which read "Abercrombie and Fitch" on the side – from a cupboard, handed one to Alex, and put the other on the desk in front of him. "One for each of you." Alex nodded. "You know what the snow suit and the glasses do, they're exactly the same as the old ones – and I'm sure you can explain it to Matthew." He stopped, pausing again with that same strange delicacy. "Look, old boy… there are some things which I'm only giving to you. Some of these things should only be given to those with experience, I'm sure you can understand that…?"
Alex nodded. "I won't mention it, Mr. Smithers." He told him, politely.
"Excellent, dear boy." He was wreathed in smiles, once again. "Of course, your friend will have nearly exactly the same equipment as you." He delved into the bag, and pulled out a minidisk player. "Jus a more advanced version of that Gameboy you had for your first assignment." He shrugged. "We've developed rather more for it, though." He pulled out a selection of disks, and a thin instruction manual. "Just have a quick read through that, and it should tell you what you need to know." He put them back in the bag, and Alex nodded.
"So…" he looked inside the bag he was holding, which looked exactly the same as Smithers' 'example' bag to him, but was apparently 'his', rather than Matt's, and then looked up again, slightly shocked. "You're giving us laptops?"
"Oh, yes." Smithers smiled, happily. "There's so much one can alter with a laptop. Now, I understand your parents," he winked, "are waiting for you, so I won't take you through this, or the phones; you'll just have to read the manual this time, I think." He paused. "Look, old boy, I know you work a little more – hastily – than some, and you might find a laptop a little… slow. But, they are very, very useful." He shrugged. "I've created an MI6 account for you – just for you, the high-ups wouldn't give me permission to create one for your friend – and you can send us an internal email, if there's something wrong – and you've got the time, of course." He smiled, at Alex. "Your username and passport are in the instruction manual. You might have to look for them – encoded, and everything, old boy – but I have every faith in you." He paused, and continued, rather more seriously, "Now, your phone and laptop do rather more than Matthew's. I'm sure you'll be able to be discreet about that, Alex, old bean." He stood, smiling, and Alex took his queue from him.
"Thank you, Mr. Smithers." He said, sincerely.
"Oh, no trouble." The man nodded to him. "Best of luck, dear boy!"
Alex escaped out of the basement, and headed up to the main foyer of the bank, where he was pounced upon by Armitage.
"Alex." Her voice was scolding, her face anxious. "We were worried about you." Already, the worry was morphing into relieved anger, and Alex had to admit that she was a fantastic actor. "It shouldn't have taken you that long to find the toilet!"
Moreau gave Alex a slow, amused grin. "Honestly, Alex." He said, winking at him, "What have I told you about worrying your mother?"
Alex gave the man an exasperated look, that he hoped looked at least vaguely filial, and was rewarded with a slight widening of the lazy grin on his 'father's' face. Joanna huffed.
"Well, at least you've still got the bags. Matt, take one from you brother."
Matt, who was looking profoundly uncomfortable – inwardly, Alex sighed – but managed to whine, "Do I have to?" in an almost-realistic way.
"Yes, you do." Joanna snapped, indignantly, playing the stressed city mother to perfection in her semi-casual suit, and rather frazzled manner. "Darling, are you don here?" she asked, of Moreau, while Alex handed Matt the bag of his own equipment.
Moreau nodded, slipping an arm around his 'wife's' waist – Alex carefully noted the easy familiarity with which Armitage accepted that – clapped Alex on the shoulder, and grinned at Matt, the picture of an affectionate father. Alex had to admire both of them – for people who'd met the pair of them just a few minutes before, they were giving one hell of a performance. "All done." He nodded. "How about we go for a meal?"
Joanna paused. "I don't know…" she said, rather doubtfully, "I've got a lot to do, Luc, and the boys have still got to pack…"
Luc nodded, slowly. "How about a compromise, then?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, rather warily. Alex didn't blame her – he was a little worried himself by the look of mischief in the man's eyes.
"Why don't we get a McDonalds?" Armitage sighed, but allowed a tiny smile to appear on her face. "We can eat it on the way home…?" he added, temptingly, grinning at the woman.
Alex frowned at the further example of a familiarity that seemed far too real to be simply an act. He couldn't think of a reason a French and an English agent would have worked together before, but he supposed there must have been one; and, after all, it made sense to have at least one real relationship to fall back on.
Armitage nodded, after a brief pause, to consider it. "Alright." She conceded, eventually. "But just this once, OK? It's not healthy."
"Yes, dear."
'Their' house was very ordinary – a nice, rather modern, four bedroomed house in one of the many London suburbs. Alex was highly impressed by the two agents, who kept up their act brilliantly, all the way from the bank, through McDonalds, and on the bus back home. It was an act he tried to respond, answering as well as he could, or butting into their light-hearted conversation when he felt that he might do so, and just generally trying to act like they were his parents, like the all 'belonged' together. Matt, on the other hand, didn't seem to be giving anything, and Alex could feel a sort of indignant impatience with him. He could have at least tried – though, maybe it was better that he didn't open his mouth.
After the fourth time Joanna told him to 'stop sulking', he snapped, "I'm not sulking!" and turned away. Alex conceded that either he was really annoyed, or he was a very good actor – but it didn't matter either way. It looked and sounded realistic, and it would be enough to convince anyone who might possibly have been watching them.
When the door shut on their 'home', however, both adults dropped the act almost instantly.
"So." Moreau started, slowly. "You two. Who are you? We know your names, but…"
"We work for…" Matt began, self-importantly.
"Matt, think about where they met us." Alex cut across, rather tiredly. "I think they know who the hell we work for." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joanna frown, and Moreau suppress a smile. "What do you want to know?" he asked, turning back to the adults.
"How long have you been involved with MI6?" Joanna asked, quietly.
"Nearly a year." Alex told her, quietly, and paused. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm really thirsty, d'you reckon there's anything to drink?"
Joanna nodded, thinking for a second; Moreau stood, waiting for her to come to a conclusion – yet another example of their familiarity. After all, if the man hadn't known her, he wouldn't have known to wait. "Come on." She said, finally, "It might be better to sit down for this conversation – I think we're going to have a lot to say." She looked over at Moreau. "Tea?"
They trooped into the half-packed-up kitchen, and while Joanna put the kettle on, and Alex fetched the mugs, Moreau turned to Matt. "And you?" he asked, quietly. "How long have you been working for them?"
Alex watched, surreptitiously. The boy looked suddenly rather sullen, glanced at Alex with faint resentment, and admitted, reluctantly, "This is my first mission."
Alex turned his attention back to the tea, and noticed that Joanna didn't need to ask Moreau about sugar.
Finally, the tea was made, and they were sat around the table in 'their' bare kitchen, in a rather awkward silence. It was Joanna who broke it, eventually. "How old are you two?" she asked, quietly.
"I'm sixteen." Matt muttered.
"Fourteen." Alex told her, shortly. "How many times have you two worked together?"
Moreau looked at him, eyes suddenly assessing. "Why do you think that we have?" he asked, softly.
"You act like you know each other." Alex shrugged. "And," suddenly and vividly, he remembered Turner and Troy. "It's a sort of knowledge you can't fake." He finished, eventually.
"Yes." Armitage's eyes on his face were sharp. "And you've done this sort of thing before, haven't you? You've pretended to be a family before. Is that what MI6 do with you? Use you as a cover for two adult agents?"
"Not really." Alex looked away. "They leant me to the CIA for a time, and they used me as a cover. MI6 like me to be a bit more – active."
Moreau was frowning. "And you're fourteen?"
Alex frowned right back at him. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"Not at all." The man's voice was easy, but his frown hadn't relaxed. "But aren't you a bit… young? For this kind of work?"
"Yeah, I'm young." Alex agreed, quietly. "No one expects me to be any good, which is precisely why I am so good at what I do. Underestimation of me has led to several people's deaths." He flinched a little from his own cold words. "I'm not proud of it." He admitted, his words falling like pebbles in to the cold silence in the kitchen . "But – it's true. You don't want to underestimate me, just because I'm young, M. Moreau."
The silence stretched for a few, long minutes. Finally, Armitage spoke up. "I think we should talk about our assignment."
And, there you have it. It begins, dear people, it begins!!#
Lol, ami xxx