Rating: PG
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me and I make no money with it.
Spoilers: Up to and including Snakehead.
Summary: They promised they wouldn't do this anymore.
Date: Dec. 27th - 10.30 pm, between Seeking Solace and Heaven (Timeline: http :/ shiruy. livejournal. com/ 3602. html)
Edited: 30.11.10
3. Light
It's the first time he's ever been accosted by MI6 at night, and he can honestly say that it feels more like a kidnapping than ever. The car he's politely manhandled into has dark tinted windows, the doors don't open once they have snapped shut behind him and the two men in the front seat he can only see through a sheet of what is probably bullet-proof glass. Even through the glass though he notices that the driver is cursing and the one in the passenger seat is hunched over, holding his chest. Alex can't bring himself to feel the slightest bit sorry - they should have known better than to come up on him from behind.
As expected he finds himself in the underground garage of the Royal & General once he is finally let out and he doesn't know what he expected, but there are still at least fifty cars parked there. Does no one here ever go home?
But then he can't think about that anymore because Disgruntled Agent One and Two are coming around and shepherding him into the elevator. He's tempted to make the second one walk funny too, but the only point he'd manage to make is that he is childish and can't control himself. No, he's saving this anger for the people who deserve it. So he allows himself to be dragged along and is not in the slightest surprised when they step out into a familiar, bland hallway on the sixteenth floor.
He expects to be led into room number 1605, Blunt's office, but instead the two guards open the door to 1604. There's no name tag, but when he steps in and sees Mrs. Jones waiting behind her desk he still can't bring himself to feel anything besides a mild sense of annoyance.
They go through the usual spiel of 'How are you Alex?' and 'Are you holding up?' and she even makes the effort and throws in an 'I'm so sorry about what happened.' It still doesn't change the fact that she dragged him here because she wants something from him, and he doesn't need to be a genius to know that he won't be willing to give it.
"So, Alex, how would you like a short vacation? We still owe you a lot and Christmas break isn't over yet, so we-"
"No," he interrupts, because no matter what she says it won't change his mind. He might as well save them both some time.
She stops and stares at him, then takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. She looks tired, but he can't bring himself to feel sorry for her. He would have preferred finishing his trip to the movies like any normal kid and just gone home and to bed too.
"Please hear me out first, Alex. It's just a three day trip and we only need you for one of those days. The rest of the time you'd be free to-"
"Mrs. Jones, I said 'no'. I don't want anything to do with this." And he says it so firmly that he even almost believes it will change the outcome of this meeting too.
She looks at him, tired and exhausted. "Please, Alex. You won't be in any danger, I promise. Your partner would do all the work. You'd just be there to serve as his cover."
He barely holds back a snort. "Just like I wasn't in any danger when you sent me to Skeleton Key? Two weeks in the sun, that's what you said, wasn't it?"
She gives him another long, silent look and he is starting to feel uncomfortable. Not that he was comfortable before, but now he's getting that trapped mouse feeling that usually signals imminent life threatening situations.
Mrs. Jones sighs again, deep and sorrowful, and gets a peppermint out of a bowl on the corner of her desk.
"I don't want to do this, Alex, but I have my orders and you don't leave me much choice."
It is a fairly ugly bowl, as far as these things go. White china with pink and blue blossoms painted onto it, it has probably been rather expensive. He can't see the appeal.
"As things stand, a man named Ian Rider is employed at Royal&General. For security reasons his nephew's records are sealed. Should Mister Rider quit working for our bank, though, we would see no reason to keep the police and the public out of his family's records anymore. There are some rather questionable things you have done over the last few months, Alex."
They promised they wouldn't do this anymore. They promised.
[And every time they say it he wants to believe it so badly.]
"You are blackmailing me. Again."
She takes another peppermint and pops it into her mouth. In the harsh lighting of her office she looks old all of a sudden.
"Yes. Yes, we are. I don't personally agree with this course of action, but I have been overruled."
As if that makes anything better.
It is his turn to sigh and he leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling tiles. The halogen lights blind him, but he can still spot the little hole at the corner of one tile. A camera.
"So that's it? I do a mission for you, I come out of it barely alive, you tell me it was the last time and a few weeks later you call me in again?"
They meet each other's eyes, one looking as unhappy as the other.
"We are only calling you in for jobs that have requirements no one else can meet. You know we wouldn't take such a risk if lives weren't on the line," she tries to explain.
He silently holds her gaze, feeling grim and resigned. They both know that he'll have to give in sooner or later. What other choice does he have, really? He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "If you keep giving me missions I need some kind of schedule. I've missed too much school already, I'm barely keeping up."
Mrs. Jones looks at him seriously, the corners of her mouth turned down in a slight frown. "Does that mean you are going to work for us?"
He nods wordlessly, unable to bring himself to actually say the words. Considering that her agency has just gotten exactly what it has been after for months, Mrs. Jones looks pretty dissatisfied as well.
"Alright. Then we'll need to work out a schedule, I want you to receive some proper training. But first let's do the contract."
He's about to sign his life away and there is nothing he can do to stop it.