So Alex moved in with Ash after his discharge from hospital. Ash drove to the bungalow where he lived, which was very basic. The house had been his retreat from work, his apartment was being rented in Sydney, Ash living off the rental income.
The house had a tin roof and was in the middle of a large wooded area about a mile down a rutted track. Isolated. Alex noted the direction of the track and the orientation of the main road. Initial impressions of the seclusion that his godfather lived in was that he was a probable serial killer.
Ash was surprised when Alex stated he could cook and that he had previously worked in a cafe. Ash was even polite enough not to make comments when Alex started reeling off vegan recipes. Alex had the impression from general assumptions, the stereotypical Australian generally did not understand vegans.
Alex told Ash about wanting to travel and experience the real outback. Ash actually said he'd try arrange something. Alex then asked if he knew Bush Tucker Man. "I'll get you a copy of the Army Survival Guide shall I", stated Ash wryly. In ASIS, the survival specialist was known more for that book than his TV shows.
Life settled into a sort of routine of Alex reading through Ash's stack of books as he rested in bed. After two days Ash changed Alex's dressing and checked his stitches. It was strange having someone touching Alex intimately again. Alex squirmed under the older man's touch.
Afterwards Alex stated "Hideous aren't I. I hate my scars. Well I don't mind the ones on my arms. They're self decoration."
"Do you still cut?"
"No, St. Jude's and James got me out of the habit of doing that. Drink and drugs are just an easy out when things get a bit too much. I even got served alcohol in California, no questions asked. I'm 17 not 21."
"You don't act like a kid, Alex. You are too emotionless, stoic" Ash was about to say hard but stopped himself. "You've experienced a lot. Most kids your age are assholes. You're mature beyond your years."
"Mature? Umm, the shrink here thinks I'm unstable." Alex scoffed
"That shrink hasn't deal with stuff both you and I have been through." The truth was Alex looked like John after he'd done his stint with Scorpia. John had been a tough nut in the army but becoming an assassin had made him cold and emotionless. After Malta, John had been a stranger, more a friend to that Gregorovich bastard than to Ash. Ash shuddered he still could not understand why the russian had abducted Alex, but the book spoke of him raping his godson. Ash had suspected John and Gregorovich's relationship had been more than instructor and student or even partners. The way Yassen had carved Ash up, that had been personal, intentionally vicious for an operative who was normally a man of ice.
Alex then changed tack. "Do you have a computer? I want to email my friends."
"No." Ash did not want to explain that he was on suspension from work pending an internal investigation. His computer had been seized, not that they would find anything on it. Ash was far too careful for a trail of evidence to link him back to Major Yu. Ash was still had friends where it mattered and not with ASIS.
"Can I use your phone for international calls then? I'll pay you back."
"Knock yourself out kid. Talk to your friends. I'm heading into town for supplies. Do you need anything?"
"No I'm good at the moment."
An operative sat in a drab windowless office in downtown Sydney noted an international call from their survelliance of Agent Howell's cabin. 0044... 1423... Harrogate England. He picked up the headphones to listen.
Hi can I speak to Private Tom Harris, please. ... Sorry sir, he's not available... OK can you take a message?... Sure... Its Alex Rider, just tell Tom I'm sorry. Kind of nearly dying has made me think falling out with him cause he wants to be SAS is a bit stupid. Well, he can see it from my point of view, They are all bastards, my dad included. I told Sergeant Dixon about Tom and he says if he's a friend of mine he's bound to make K unit no problem... So your dad was in the SAS... Yeah, Falklands, did something stupid and got an MC, go figure. Tell, Tom, I'll write cause I'm off backpacking as soon as I'm fit and well again. Thanks.
Then another number... 00 49 211 Germany, Dusseldorf.
Can I speak to Jamie..err James please?" ... "Good morning Alex, James is at school. I'll tell him you called. Are you feeling better?... Sore and tired. So, glad I'm out of hospital. I was quite poorly for a while. I've been very lucky once again, but I still hate hospitals especially the disgusting food... James was very upset, he wanted to go to Sydney to see you... Glad he didn't I was not very good company. I'll speak to James at the weekend. Bye."
Finally 007 495... Russia... Moscow...This number lit up ... Sergei Rushkov's home. Then the speaker spoke in deep fluent russian. Luckily the conversation was being recorded. The operative did not speak it. He flagged this call for immediate translation.
"Hello Maria.. Is Sergei there?" Alex asked, hoping he was on another business trip.
"Did you get the flowers? Sergei was very upset to read you'd been taken ill."
"The nurses loved the bouquet. I nearly died Maria. My appendix burst when I was in operating theatre. I'm still on antibiotics. I was only allowed out of hospital on bed rest because my godfather is a trained medic. So I'll be resting for the next three or four of weeks. Then I can go backpacking. Ayer's Rock, Great Barrier Reef, all that shit."
"OK Alex, I'm glad your getting better. I'm putting you through now."
"Hello Alex. You frightened the life out of me. I hear you are resting. What did the doctor tell you?"
"No lifting, no strenuous exercise, eat regular meals, sleep, only wash and get out of bed under supervision. Ash has been taking care of me."
"Who is this Ash?" queried Sergei, trying not to sound jealous and failing.
"My godfather, actually. Its complicated. Children's services kept all his letters I only got in touch with him recently. He's lived in Oz for over 10 years. He's kind of cool. He used to work with my Dad. I last saw him just before he emigrated. Its been a bit strange with me being so ill, but he'd been Ok about it all. I think I'd have been better off here than in England for the past three years. Then again if that had happened I'd have never have met you." Alex paused and then apologised "I'm sorry for worrying you. I should have been a bit more communicative about going into an episode. I have them, I get fucked in the head and do abysmally stupid things. Drink, drugs... generally being an asshole."
"I should have been there for you Alex. I put work before my personal relationships. I always have. You are more precious than any lover I have had before. I should make allowances for you. Next time I have a trip you should stay with Dieter Sprintz. I talked to him. He cares for you. I could tell by the way he ranted at me for being a complete bastard. I do care for you. Cherish you. I cannot wait until you return to Moscow or maybe Switzerland. Call me when you're holiday is over. We will spend weeks together undisturbed I promise."
"Did you read my poems?"
Sergei laughed "The published book or the stack of porn you snuck into my luggage?"
"It wasn't porn. Erotic rather than carnal. I thought you might appreciate my words on how you make me feel. God I better not carry on with the conversation. It hurts enough just eating, pissing and shitting. God forbid I get a hard on. Wanking would probably be pure torture."
"Are you in much pain?"
"Its relative. I can't take anything with opiates in it. So, no strong painkillers cause of my history."
"History?"
"I have been known to smoke heroin and snort cocaine. So I must suffer. The doctor ranted a bit about me being underweight. I would heal quicker, not have been as ill if I looked after myself. I'm back looking like a scarecrow, Sergei. Thin as a rake as they say in England."
"Eat, get well, Call me if you need anything? I miss you, beautiful boy."
"I miss you too."
Ethan Brook listened to the phone conversation between Alex Rider and Sergei Rushkov. It was known to the intelligence community that Alex Rider, MI6's teen operative, was in an on-off relationship with Rushkov for over six months. From the phone call it sounded very on. The head of covert operations at Australian Secret Intelligence Service was also digesting the fact Ash had actually bonded with John Rider's son, which was surprising to say the least. Maybe it was because Alex despite being just 17, was no child. The kid was disturbed according to the Shrink he'd been seeing here. Alex was no longer operative material, Yassen had seen to that. The usefulness of the kid had been ruined by Blunt breaking the story of his kidnapping to the press. Alex, no John's son, had been an emotional wreck after Yassen's brainwashing. Infatuated with Gregorovich, but never making it to Malagosto to become a full terrorist for Scorpia. Brook did not believe in coincidences. Ash was under investigation and Alex Rider turns up. It was a small world indeed as Sergei Rushkov was a known associated to the former Major Yu, who was thought to have links to Ash. Hearsay to a lawyer, but the fact they had suspicions meant they were bound to turn up proof. The blow back on operations could all be linked to Antony Howell. Brook sat back and tried to think this series of events through. Was its game Rushkov was playing? Was Ash in Rushkov's pocket? Or was Rushkov going to pick Ash up? Was Alex being used or an actual player again?