The answer lies where the Royals cross.
Alex was thoroughly engrossed in the riddle. He felt as if he was missing something very obvious. Wolf wasn't a puzzle master; the guy hated riddles, conundrums, and anything that required a unique kind of logic. So he had a feeling that the riddle was much more simple than he was thinking it was.
C'mon, Rider. Think like Wolf.
If Wolf was trying to hide something when and where would it have happened? This whole thing seemed to revolve around an old mission. Fox and Snake had made that clear enough. So, Wolf would have hidden something before he got home, before he had Tom watching his every move and questioning every word he said.
The soldier would have hidden this thing the second he was off the plane. But Alex couldn't remember a time when they hadn't picked him up from the airport right along with Eagle. When would he have had the time? Unless, all of this started before K-Unit had come back into their lives. Although, for some reason Alex didn't think that was the case. K-Unit had been horribly tense for a while now. Something had happened between the time of Snake's burns and last night.
Where did the Royals cross? Where would Wolf have hidden something if he thought he was being constantly watched? It would have had to be a place that wouldn't have been out of his way. A place no one would question his presence in but a place no one would think he would leave something behind either. Wolf wasn't sneaky by nature but he'd apparently done a very good job at hiding whatever it was these people were after. Alex, on the other hand, was a sneaky person and it was frustrating him that he couldn't figure it all out.
He played back the last few months in his head. When did K-Unit come home on their own? When they were debriefed in SAS headquarters and not at the base of operations. When was the last time that had happened? A few weeks ago; he remembered because it was the same time he and Tom had had to do that stupid health class project.
Alex suddenly sat straight up in his hard-backed, plastic hospital chair in the middle of the main lobby. He and Tom had retreated there in order to be by themselves and try to deal with everything they had been through in the past twelve hours. Tom had fallen asleep nearly an hour ago.
He didn't bother to wake him.
He just got up from his chair, pulled the hood over his head, and left the hospital through the front doors. He had an idea and while he was fairly certain he was completely right, he had to make sure before he got Tom's hopes up.
00000
King's Cross Station was relatively abandoned at this odd hour. The main terminal always had something going in or out considering that it was a main transportation hub but at four thirty in the morning it was transitioning from the late night travelers to the early morning travelers.
Alex stood in the center of the floor looking around him and trying to figure out how best to go about this. He was certain he could get into the lockers but he had no idea which locker would be Wolf's. Alex didn't know him well enough to know an alias Wolf might use and he was positive that the paranoid soldier wouldn't have used his real name. Now he was stuck thinking at the train station, racking his brain for a memory of a number. Any number.
Had he seen a train locker key recently? No. Had Tom? Unlikely.
Wolf wouldn't have left anything to chance. He wouldn't have taken a randomly assigned locker number on the chance that something like what was happening happened. He would have requested a very specific kind of locker. A strategically placed locker. Wolf clearly hadn't trusted anyone with what he was holding on to. That meant he didn't want his bosses to know he had it.
Alex looked up. One, two, three cameras that could potentially pick up someone standing at the lockers. Except, for that one spot directly under camera one. That particular camera was in a corner and was specifically designated to watch this area. The other two were simply overlap. But the few lockers directly underneath camera one would be a blind spot. If approached from the far left no one would ever know if someone had been there. Alex immediately made his way over, careful to keep his hood up and face down.
There were four lockers with the potential to be Wolf's. Three had a lock that required a key. One had a lock that had been recently replaced. This one required a combination. This was Wolf's locker, Alex was sure of it. Now all he had to do was figure out the combination. This he could do. Wolf would have made it a combination every member of K-Unit could figure out.
But that thought made Alex hesitate. What series of numbers would mean something important to all four members of K-Unit? He thought back to what he knew about them. The first series of numbers he tried was the date they would have begun training together.
The lock didn't give.
Next he tried the date they would have ended training. That wasn't it either. Normally, Alex would have simply pressed his ear to the store bought combo-lock and cracked it but even in the relative emptiness of the station there was too much noise for him to hear the pins clicking into place. He'd have to do it the hard way. Great.
What other date would be of importance? He honestly didn't know and he was suddenly feeling like he didn't know them at all. He went through everyone's birthdays but that wasn't it either. He even did his own birthday and then Tom's and Jack's. Nothing worked. Alex slammed his palm down on the cold metal in frustration. Sighing, he forced himself to calm down and think. This was Wolf. Non-sentimental, cold-faced Wolf. There was a string of numbers that made more practical sense than others. What was it?
He thought back to the rosary. Wolf was unlikely to have picked that out on his own. He wasn't a religious man by any stretch of the imagination. So why choose a rosary of all things to hide an important message in? There was reason to it, Alex knew.
And suddenly things clicked into place. They had been in South America when Wolf would have come across whatever he'd needed to hide. South America, a place they'd been frequenting of late. Alex wasn't supposed to know where they were going but Eagle still thought of him as a colleague sometimes and had let slip that they had been on that continent quite a few times. Whatever mission they had been working on had followed them home.
Wolf was leaving behind clues about the mission. The teen mentally ran through everything he knew about South America. Who would have caught British attention? He honestly didn't know. But he did know the date that Snake had been flown home suddenly with burns covering half his face and part of his torso. Alex spun the lock to the appropriate numbers and was actually half surprised when it clicked open. Smiling to himself he removed the lock and flung the door open.
Inside was a single flash drive attached to a lanyard decorated with a flag Alex didn't recognize off the top of his head. He grabbed it and left as quickly as he'd come.
00000
Getting back into his house wasn't possible. It was a crime scene, taped off, and flooded with MI6 agents. The same went for Wolf's flat. So Alex headed to the one place he knew would be open and unguarded at seven-thirty in the morning.
Brookland.
School itself didn't start until nine but the buildings were all open for teachers preparing for the day and students who came early to work on last minute homework and projects. He went unnoticed as he slipped behind a computer in the library. The librarian didn't even look up from her Vogue magazine and Starbucks. That suited Alex just fine.
Starting up the machine and typing in his login, he wondered just how much trouble he'd be in for going off on his own. MI6 obviously wouldn't care and Eagle wouldn't be coherent enough to understand anything for the next few days but Fox would be pissed. Alex suspected there would be a lecture upon his return. Not that there was anything Fox could say that would make him feel guilty about anything. Wolf was missing; Eagle had almost been killed; Jack was in hysterics. He needed to know why. He needed to stop it.
Once the computer was running smoothly and showed him the generic baby blue home screen Alex slipped the flash drive from his pocket and plugged it in. A window immediately popped up again and asked for a password. He silently cursed and nearly slammed his hands on the keyboard in frustration. He only just managed to control himself. The last thing he needed was to call attention to himself. He eyed the window and that was when he saw it. A small line of script at the bottom.
You have five tries left.
"Great," he mumbled. Five tries and whatever was on the flash drive would probably be erased. There was no way to tell how long or short the password was. It could be anything. He didn't dare try to open it. He unplugged the drive and logged out.
He couldn't open it but he knew someone who could.
00000
The Royal and General Bank was as dull and drab and unappealing as ever. Alex hated the thought of being there but all in all it was necessary. He entered through the main lobby and ignored the woman behind the desk eyeing him. The elevator would take him to the floor he needed without special permission. After all, he wasn't here to see the top people.
Smithers's office was crowded. Stacks and stacks of files, discarded bits of wire, and pieces of scrap metal were scattered across his desk and the work table directly opposite. The enormous fat man was sitting at the table twisting two wires together that had originated from a nondescript mobile phone. Alex didn't know if he was fixing it, modifying it, or just playing around. That was the thing about Smithers. There was never a way to tell.
"Alex!" he greeted happily when he caught sight of the fair haired teen.
"Hello Mr. Smithers," he greeted back.
"What brings you here so early in the morning?" the man asked. "Caught in a bit of trouble again?" The raised eyebrow and amused half-smile was all Alex needed to know that Smithers was aware of what had been happening in the last few hours. He wondered if Blunt knew he was in the building. There was a possibility. There was always the possibility. After all, no one had asked about why a teenager was wandering the halls of a restricted building.
"It seems so," Alex responded with a genuine sigh. "I came to ask you for a favor."
"Of course!"
"Can you open this for me?" he asked and dangled the flash drive in front of Smithers by the flag lanyard. He'd forgotten to look up the country it came from.
"I can certainly try," Smithers responded and took it. He grabbed a sleek looking laptop from beneath the work bench and opened it in front of him. Alex walked around to watch him work. The same window popped up when the MI6 man plugged in the drive into his computer but instead of trying to guess a password Smithers opened another window and began typing in text. Computer commands, Alex recognized. He had no idea what the man was doing. He'd never been that good with hacking and computers. Just enough to get by.
However, Smithers was a master and it took him only ten minutes to bypass the security on the flash drive. Alex wondered where this drive had come from. Had K-Unit seen what was on it or had they stolen it like Alex had done once before on his own mission? File after file appeared in yet another window and each one was identified by a date. A date Alex knew would coincide with a K-Unit deployment. At least for the past few months or so. The last few dates he knew for certain were all lined up with K-Unit's absences from home.
"Open that one," he said and pointed to the most recent file. Smithers complied and a PDF file opened. Alex didn't recognize the image. It was a picture, most likely the result of a reconnaissance mission. It was clear as day though. A dark haired man with tanned skin and a battered, ill fitting General's outfit was standing on a helipad. Alex recognized him immediately. Not from his time in MI6 but from school. Social Studies class in fact and Mrs. Hanswell's insistence that her students stay up to date with current affairs.
He was a South American war lord. People called him Helter Skelter because of his obsession with the Beatles song. He was a cross between Kony in Africa and Charles Manson in America. A bad guy all around, the type of guy Alex never wanted to come across. But Skelter wasn't alone in this picture. He was with another man. A man Alex recognized. His blood went cold.
"Smithers, you need to get these picture to Blunt immediately," the teen said. His voice didn't portray his shock, he still sounded completely calm.
"He's not here," Smithers said.
"Then take them to Mrs. Jones," Alex responded.
"Why? What are we looking at?"
"A traitor."
He didn't stick around to explain further. In fact, he was halfway down the corridor, running full pelt towards the elevator before Smithers had the presence of mind to call his name.
"Alex!"
00000
"Tom."
The annoying voice refused to go away. He batted at the air with his hand as if to swipe away the person with the voice like they were a bug. But this bug was persistent.
"TOM!" The last was a shout and it was accompanied by a slap to his leg. It wasn't hard but it was enough to surprise him out of sleep. He jolted and glanced around warily half expecting men with guns and masks. But it was just Fox. An irritated Fox but just Fox. "Where's Alex?"
Tom glanced over to the chair he'd last seen Alex in but the hard plastic was bare. He was gone.
"I don't know," Tom replied, rubbing at his eyes. "Did you try the cafe?"
"Yes, he's not there."
"Then I don't know," the boy insisted as he allowed Fox to pull him to his feet and guide him back towards Eagle's hospital room. "I've been asleep."
"Hmm," was all the reply that he got. It wasn't until they were nearly to Eagle's room that Fox even acknowledged another human being.
"Daniels!"
Fox immediately looked over his shoulder to see Puma. He stopped walking and waited for the other man to cross the meager distance between them.
"Any news about Eagle?" Puma asked.
"Yeah," Fox responded. "His career's over but he'll live."
"Oh," Puma said blankly clearly unable to formulate a response to that. It was said so harshly that it even made Tom wince. But the tone was interesting. Either Fox's cold and calm exterior was beginning to crack under the strain of no sleep and a missing teammate, or he really didn't like Puma. "Well, I'm headed to the cafe, is there anything you want me to bring back?"
"Food," Tom replied instantly jumping at the offer of breakfast. Puma looked him, amused.
"What would you like?" he asked but before the teen could answer Fox dropped Tom's arm and gave him a nudge in Puma's direction.
"Just take him with you," Fox replied. "I'll pay you back later."
Puma shook his head.
"No worries,mate," he said. Tom led the way to the lifts and the two quickly made their way away from Eagle and his doped up mumblings and towards the food that Tom was beginning to feel like he desperately needed. He really did hate hospitals.
00000
Wolf's eyes were sore from the lack of sleep. Not to mention the electronic shocks that they'd finally given up on. He'd never been so grateful for the Sergeant and his sadistic training. Apparently, it was all useful.
They'd left him in the chair and his head was leaning against the wood. He was attempting to get a little rest. He was going to need energy, he just knew it. The voice was quiet. In fact, they seemed quite content on letting him think through everything that was happening to him. With the television screen still on, Wolf couldn't help but look at the pictures they'd managed to gather. He took a closer look at each and every one, trying to place them.
The ones of Tom as a young child would have obviously come from his mother's house. He wondered if the woman was still alive. The one of Alex and Tom outside of school. He felt as if he knew that one. As if he'd seen it before. Had Jack taken it? If so, that meant his kidnappers had been in the Rider home. Where was his team? Was Eagle alright?
These people had come for him after he'd gotten the call about Eagle. He'd been their Plan B. He wondered if the rest of the team was okay? Did they have Alex? Or had the kid managed to get away? He didn't know. He didn't know anything really. They'd never actually been able to hack the flash drive. That was why he'd hidden it in the first place. To keep it out of reach of the mole in the SAS. Wolf had his suspicions about who it was but until he got the files on the drive everything they had was pretty much useless.
His only real hope at this point was that the Unit found the drive and got it open. Then they'd know. And he wouldn't have been tortured for nothing.
"Comfortable?" the voice asked suddenly. He wished dearly to hit the person it belonged to with all of his strength. They deserved it. "You're tough. Tougher than we expected. But there's more than one way to make you talk."
"Oh really?" Wolf questioned, only half-sarcastically.
"Yes," the voice replied and the television flickered to a new image. This however, wasn't a picture. This was a live video feed. The camera showed a cell much like his own with a boy strapped to a metal chair, gagged and blindfolded. Wolf could barely see his face but he could recognize that head of hair anywhere.
"Tom!" he shouted as if the boy could hear him through the television. How had they gotten to him? He should have been with the Unit by now. Or had they found the hiding spot Wolf had left him in? He didn't know and in all honesty it didn't matter. All that mattered was that they had the kid. His kid.
As he watched someone entered the room behind the boy. They threaded their hand through the kid's hair and then yanked his head back so that his neck was fully exposed. The knife that came to rest at his jugular was expected but still managed to shock Wolf.
"I'll ask you one more time," the voice said. "Where is the flash drive?"
Wolf knew they had him. He may not get along with the kid most of the time but Tom was a civilian. Barely fifteen. The soldier knew he would never be able to watch as they slit his throat. And they knew it too.
"Okay," he finally said. "Okay. It's at King's Cross Station. Locker 456."
The voice never responded but the knife was taken away and the man disappeared the way he'd come.
Wolf's head fall back against the wood of his chair, not in exhaustion but relief.
"Thank god."