The guard stood to attention and gave his report on his short conversation with Alex this morning and the search which had failed to find either the boys or any of the assailants who had attacked last night.
Sarov stood and replayed the report in his head. Belov was a decorated soldier who had served in Chechnya, he had given a clear and concise account of the fact two teenagers had disappeared from this guarded estate after the danger of abduction had seemingly past. "Are you sure you heard the name Yassen?"
"Yes general." The young guard, Corporal Lukyan Belov confirmed firmly. " Aleksandr spoke to Dimitry Ivanov first then to this Yassen. I did not observe anyone with the boys and I did not hear this other person talk. Only Dimitry and Aleksandr spoke."
General Alexei Sarov knew precisely who Yassen was. The impostor, who had been interrogated in the cellar had made no mention of the Scorpia assassin. Had Gregorovich been watching Alex, waiting for an opportunity to snatch him? Then why had Dimitry been taken to? Only it was not an abduction, if what Belov had heard was correct Alex had asked to be taken to safety, away from the boy in his nightmares, Julius Grief. Alex had only spoken briefly about his encounters with his uncle's murderer. A man who had wanted Alex safe and away from 'his world'. It had been through MI6 that Alexei had gained a son, family, one he was now in danger of losing because of MI6's attempt to regain their teen spy.
The retired general was at an impasse. He would be betraying the fact he had acknowledge on contacts and avenues of enquiries outside of normal channels. "Forgive me Colonel, but I know who this Yassen is, Aleksandr has talked of him. He is a freelance operative, an assassin. You must understand the idea that both boys would have run willingly when faced with those evil clones from their past. Aleksandr continues to have very vivid nightmares about his time at that school in Grenoble. I cannot imagine how much worse it was for Dimitry, who spent months imprisoned only to be freed and to learn his father had been murdered and all at home had accepted the impostor."
The Colonel lit up another cigarette and blew smoke through his nose. It was his failure that had damaged his relationship with his godson. Dimitry trusted his fellow pupils at that school far more than family and his father's friends. Running with an assassin was a better bet than trusting Russian state security. That fact alone was making the fifty year old feel every one of his years. "So can we contact this rogue operative then?"
"I can. We have to reassure both boys it is safe to come home. That this situation is contained and will not provide any further problems. I dread to think what damage this has done to my son. He is fragile." The General had spent months gaining the boy's trust, his love and acceptance. From their rocky start, Alex was an obedient boy, a good son. A wonderful child. Fear was like ice wrapping to the General's mind. He would have to work hard to gain control of this nightmare situation. Alex had acted on impulse to run in the face of his ultimate fear, to be replaced by a better son. Alex always tried to be a perfect replica of his Vladimir, to prove himself to the General. Alexeo would have to afirm to Alex when he came home that it was Alex whom he loved.
The Security Officer understood that the General would do anything to keep his son safe, but state security took precedence. "This situation is not going to become public. General Ivanov's murder was not reported. The Grief boy sat in that room is not registered anywhere, best he disappears rather than appear in the judicial system, like his brother. We may still have to report these boys have been kidnapped, but any media involvement will be a last resort. We must deal with this Yassen directly and fast."
General Sarov stood grim faced by the window staring at the copse of woodland 200m to the north of the house, where the boys had last been seen. He did not tell the Senior Officer in Directorate 1 that Yassen Gregorovich, despite being Russian by birth was a true freelance , one who would never trust any in power. A symbol of the dark side of the Soviet regime, a non person. Sarov knew that children still disappeared and no one cared of their fate. Alex and Dimitry would be found. His son, a boy with so little trust, would need reassurance, careful handling and a clean break from the fact his home, his room had been despoiled by that MI6 plot.
...
The day was sunny and warm, the small window in the apartment was opened a crack to allow the air to flow. After a simple breakfast of biscuits, cake and coffee. Yassen watched over the boys. Alex sat watching the non-existent news on the TV, 24 hour rolling reports with no mention of spies, mercenaries, firefights or General Alexei Sarov. In the heat and the drone of the old anchorman, Dimtry was the first to fall into a deep sleep. Alex moved to allow his friend to stretch out on the sofa.
Alex stood by the window, the slight breeze cooling his face. "Thank you, Yassen. Thank you for letting me escape." Alex looked out at the view of an identical tower block opposite with concrete between the buildings. Grafitti on the walls and the strings of drying washing the olnly decorations breaking up the drab grey. For the first time in months the knot of doubt and fear was not churning in the teenager's stomach. He could almost laugh that he felt safer in the company of his uncle's murderer than the man who was legally his father.
"What are you're plans, little Alex? Where do you want to go from here?" Yassen asked softly, trying to understand the boy and his motivations. The assassin had helped Alex escape from two puppet master's in his life, Alan Blunt and the wily old general. His own observations had shown a boy in a guilded cage, but a cage no less.
"I miss London so much, but it is not my home, not anymore. Not that England was ever more than school really. I moved about too much as a child, I could fit in anywhere. Ian trained me to be a chameleon. Maybe India or South America... far from Blunt or Sarov not that I have any money or any real skills. I'm just a kid. Just a stupid kid." Alex rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying not to show weakness to this man of no emotions.
"You are strong. So like your father. He was a true friend to me, not nice, not kind, hard to steel me for the harshness of the life as an assassin. Before that I was a slave, worthless and alone. Being trapped does that to anyone. I had help along the way. I will help you Alex. I have friends. I have worked here in Moscow for the rich and powerful. I have earned a large amount of money. Your father also earned money when he worked for Scorpia. This money is yours by right, bank accounts that I have administered , in Panama, Switzerland and the Cayman Islands. You are not poor. Enough to finance a new identity, a home and to finish your schooling, for you to build a new life free of fear for you and your friend."
"We still have to get out of Russia with a full security alert, no papers and the fact we are both the sons of Generals."
Yassen smiled "The higher the stakes, the better the game. I must tell you of the first hit I undertook with your father in the Amazon..."