The courier dropped a large box on Sasha Canterbury's desk, barely paying any attention to his surroundings, just the nameplate on the desk. He then pushed his clipboard under the recipients nose. Alex signed in Cyrillic, while noting the box hailed from Dimension Publishing, New York. He knew precisely who had sent the gift and what it contained. Deftly, the parcel tape was cut with his Swiss Army knife and six copies of Blunt: The Fall of the Spy Master - MI6 Black Operations between 1984 and 2005 were revealed. Scanning the contents page, which named the operations in black and white detailing the fall of his own biological family. Bitterly Sasha thought there were no more Rider's to use like chess pieces as he had survived only because of his two adoptions by powerful well connected parents. He was positive all his luck had been used up when begging Sarov to avoid nuclear catastrophe.

Each book had been signed by the author. He turned back the front page. The personal note accompanying the book made him smile it said 'Sasha, I wish I had the ability to bestow three wishes like a djinn, may you have health, wealth and happiness always, your faithful servant and true friend Edward'. The trainee PA smiled and picked up the second copy and moved to the office door, knocking twice as was his habit before entering; as he had already made sure the phone line was not live.

He stepped in and closed the door softly. "Dieter, I have a present for you. Chapters 7, 8 and 9 are relevant if you wish to speed read about my misadventures. Give me the weekend and I'll translate them to German, if you'd prefer?" The blond PA walked forward to place the book in front of his boss.

The German looked at the cover and scowled. "Thank you, but translation will not be necessary. I will read this advance copy before coming over to dinner tonight, then James can read it too. I have wondered what Mr. Pleasure made of our tales of that school and those abominations created by Grief and Stellenbosch."

In August, Dieter had insisted on meeting the reporter to satisfy himself that he was not out to use Sasha. "You never told me what you thought about Edward? I like him. He's very straight, moral and true." The misused former spy would have not said a word to any journalist, but Ed was adamant not to compromise any source, but especially a family friend. He had never put names, dates or any personal details about confidential sources in his notes. Just those video interviews as proof, face obscured and the use of his bad original accent. Though MI6 knew precisely who the teenager in question was and what he was up to these days.

Alex was not surprised that the financier did not reply as he was already engrossed in the book, speed reading chapter 7, while making quick notes in the margins. The observer guessed he would be emailing Edward with a stunning blunt critique before the end of play today. The PA went back to his own pile of correspondence, as he would courier copies to his family in DC, Pennsylvania and California.

Life was good, living in Dusseldorf, sharing a spacious apartment with James. Work was split between three days working with Dieter, here at the office with his dedicated team of underlings, then two days of solitary self education about currencies, bonds, finance, markets and the nitty gritty of what was very dodgy, then the sort of legal if you squinted a bit, but could get away with. Alex was fascinated by the whole deal between legal trading of bullion, diamonds, bonds, currencies, electronic transfers vs. money laundering. He had a pile of reading to catch up on. All Dieter's recommendations, as the man stated you needed to keep ahead of the game to make the big breaks. Most big institutions could bend the rules in their own favour most of the time and by sheer size control most transactions, but the smaller companies were limited to being clever and sneaky. Dieter Sprintz was gifted and tenacious, his gains making him very unpopular in a dog eat dog world. Luck had also played its part, making comparisons with gambling very relevant.

Alex finished his pile for the post and then got on with real work not wool gathering. He had notes of the team meeting this morning to type up for checking with its detailed outlines, goals, targets and projected failures. Overall, the projections were above targets for the European and American projects. Only breaking even in the Far East. Alex also had reports on his observations on the team to finalise. Dieter trusting his proteges's instincts already.

At 4:45pm, James texted as he was on his way home after his last class of the day. Dieter would be flying back to Lucerne after a family dinner. Alex had prepared the food for his friend to serve, but rather than play third wheel he was out on a 'date', mostly to appear to be normal than any actual belief in forming trusting relationships. The PA finished up. The diary for next week did not need any last minute changes. With work backed up and placed on hard drive and the datastick. As per Dieter's peculiarities, no files saved on the network or sent via email. One placed in the safe at the apartment and the other for his boss to read over at his leisure. Alex dealt with mail on Mondays and Fridays and phone calls, forwarding only items deemed to the boss if deemed urgent and/or personal. He put on his jacket, phoned for Dieter's car to be made ready and went in to disturb the man who had a family dinner pending. All Jamie had to do was reheat the prepared lasagne and throw together a green salad. The American spent his weekends preparing ahead meals for these weekly events. These dinners made Sasha yearn for his own family, thanksgiving could not come soon enough. The teenager did not reflect on the abuse he had suffered, as he spared no thought to fallout from Edward's book. He was not the only one hurt and misused by Alan Blunt, a man who had a high profile, vocal opponent in Miss Jack Starbright. No threats of breaking the OSA would affect her and her legal team, not when faced with her constitutional right to free speech on her home soil.

….

At the bar, Karl Lindstrom waited for his date to arrive, fashionably late. A month of playful flirting across the office, and after asking the new guy out three times last week, Sasha had cautiously agreed to meet for a drink after work. Rumours around the office stated the new PA was the best friend, sharing a flat with, their boss' son, a close family friend and trusted. The Dane had the suspicion the old man had picked this eighteen year old as an apprentice, not a mere PA. He was just a numbers man, honing the computer algorithms to adapt their trading patterns for maximum profit, never one to gamble nor have any control over the money or beholden to the investors. He pulled out a stick of gum, the only sign he was an ex-smoker craving that particular fix. Nervousness not helped by the doubts clouding his mind: too old to proposition a school leaver, so soon after coming out of the closet himself. He was past regretting that decision and its consequences, as he had no way home after his pastor father called him the devil incarnate. So much for the sexual equality in the law when your own family could not forgive your sexuality. He was not the type to casually sleep around, go to clubs or turkish baths. He was after long term, wanting a partner, happiness and security. A goal he was prepared to work towards. He thought back to Sasha's first day in the office introducing himself as gay as bold as brass. The fact a gorgeous young man, openly out and proud, was hesitant at dating spoke of similar goals or just a heartbreak at home in the US.

Alex arrived just before six. As usual he had gone the long way from the office, doubling back on himself, just to make sure he had no one tailing him. The bar was quiet, not surprising for this large hotel early on a Thursday. The eighteen year old had been fine with flirting and office banter. The drinks invitation may just lead to a friendship, as it had with Lola, but he could bet Karl was after something more. The PA smiled as he was definitely not averse to the pleasures of sex, even just as friends with benefits. Maybe he was being cynical as he now viewed his relationship with Paul as just that. Phoney love wit the veneer of something more serious. Truthfully, they had been too young to realise they were not compatible. What did he want? A drink for sure, anything beyond that was open to negotiation. To think he was too cynical to hope to replicate Mimi and Charlie, who had married at eighteen and were still young at heart forty years later.

Karl arrived back at his flat, reeling from his engaging conversation with world weary, sarcastic, mature and sexually aware eighteen year old. Not a kid by any measure, despite his youth. He wondered if the young Sprintz heir was cut from the same cloth, as James had decided to follow a very different path from his father and yet was OK with his best friend working so closely with the financier. He had not expected such a battle of wits over his martini. At least he had been invited over for dinner on sunday, for informal pizza, beer and watching a game on TV. With an American that could mean their version of football, baseball, hockey or even soccer. Sasha had been surprised that Karl wanted more than sex or friendship and had not been surprised by the reaction of Karl's family. Sasha's best friend in DC had been thrown out and disowned for being transexual and was now female. He had also learned that Sasha was open about his desires and preferences. Sex was on the cards, but only if he got on with Jamie. He had also been warned that his older brother was very protective and not be be frightened by his bark as there was no chance of any actual violence.

…..

The Assistant Cultural Attache at the British Consulate in New York was the official title for an officer in MI6 in charge of security. He had procured an advanced copy of the blatant hack unauthorised Biography of Alan Blunt. The author justifiably had reason to agitate the security services as he had uncovered to plots to national security that had slipped past Blunt during his tenure. The Security Operative could see no reason to attempt a high profile legal case against a book that was guaranteed to be a best-seller this Christmas, with a big launch planned for October. The publication was primarily historical, all operations disclosed were pre 9/11. As a slippery bastard of the highest order, Blunt was likely to use the publicity in his favour as who was going to believe he used a fourteen year old as an operative. He posted the copy to London with his brief report and recommendation to neither confirm or deny anything printed as his department had more important leads to chase and would not waste its budget on lawyers. Blunt would have to do that as he was a private individual with no current connection to and damn few allies at SIS. The officer made the observation that when you were completely ruthless in your rise to power and while in post, you made enemies of all who you used, abused and stepped on. Those allied to Blunt now had never been personally burned by the man.

….

Sir David Friend read and reread the chapters of a book faxed to him by Dieter Sprintz. So, the boy Alexander was alive. The attached letter also made him aware that that child had been in Russian 'protective custody' for nearly two years and had been part of an exchange in 2003, so was now an American citizen, to escape the abuse of Alan Blunt. The book had confirmation of the use of this teenager by MI6 from three SAS sources, an ex-MI6 officer and Alexander's former housekeeper. The journalist had done a very thorough job. He picked up the phone to call the current head of MI6 to discuss this situation. The journalist did not mention the supermarket chain owner by name, but anyone with half a brain would connect to to him by the details given. After he left his details with the secretary, he wondered if he had made a mistake refusing an interview with Edward Pleasure not once but three times. His wife had been a friend of Damian Cray and could still not believe that gentle soul was the demon described by the journalist. Now, they were child abusers by association, for housing a child for four days before he was placed in imminent danger. He had to plan to avoid blowback that would affect share prices and his company. That American conglomerate was itching to take over. Selling his shares now would allow him to move to Switzerland or Monaco far from the stink raised over this book.