Alex stood in the queue in the hall full of passengers waiting for passport control. Each and every passport scanned and checked, each passenger questioned. Alex shuffled forward, but his mind kept being drawn back to the last few days.
Alex looked up and stared at the officials in their booths. He schooled his expression and brought his thoughts to here and now. His hand touched the medals in the pouch pocket of his hoodie.
Alex stood looking both bored and annoyed as his passport was scanned. Alex watched out of the corner of his eye as two agents moved to intercept him. The official then told him there was a problem with his passport.
The room made Alex feel claustrophobic. He saw the camera. Alex's nervousness had translated into the nerves on his left leg twitching annoyingly. At least he was wearing shorts. He pulled off his leg massaged the stump before replacing his prosthetic. The wait was actually shorter than he anticipated as two men came into the room. A tall handsome black guy and an older grey haired man with a tired face and eyes.
"Hello Mr Rider. We have sent an agent to collect your father in the arrivals hall. You are listed as missing. Care to talk about that?" stated the black guy, all business.
"I spoke to papa last week and told him I was coming to the states. I have a multi-entry visa in my passport. What is the problem?"
"The problem Alex...I can call you Alex?"
At this the young man shrugged and stated "Its my name"
"The problem is you completely disappeared off the radar. It does not help the fact you got through passport control at Paris with barely a glance. A full interpol alert was out on you because of you associations with a known terrorist."
"Are you a member of Byrne's spook squad then?" Alex said sneering.
"I cannot confirm nor deny that fact. Just answer the question."
"You guys already know who paid for my plane ticket. You probably already have CCTV from Nice. French Security won't play ball with you cause Yassen is on their books. I'm sure he does off the record work for you too. So what is the problem. Yassen invited me to stay for a few days in his 'villa'. The place will be clean and have no visible connection with him. Yassen is far too careful to get caught with his pants down."
"What have you been doing for two months in Corfu?"
"I got a job. I took my clothes off and got paid for it. I was a model for an artist. Richard Warren. He's quite famous."
"So you just worked for him?"
"Yes, I got paid 100 euro per painting and 40 euros a day for sitting. I earned in total 7000 euros cash in hand. No bad for laying and sitting around all day looking pretty."
"How did you meet up with Yassen Gregorovich? Did he contact you or did you contact him?"
Alex smiled and leaned back stretching. "He scared the living daylights out of me. I was sat drinking coffee in a bar in Nice on the waterfront, when the bastard sat next to me. Maybe it was kismet, but knowing Yassen he could have been following me for days."
"He stalked you?"
"Don't ask me. I'm smart enough to know you don't antagonize a man like Yassen Gregorovich. He told me to go with him. I followed. He told me to strip and wash. He played nice. We fucked. We talked. He told me papa was worried. I was under the impression after Tony did not care after he did not return my calls from Athens, OK. I have had a lifetime of dealing with adults that don't care. I kind of expect it. I'm here only at Yassen's insistence that I try and mend my relationship with Tony."
"You have a sexual relationship with Gregorovich?"
"Yes since I was 14. We fucked during our time together on Cuba... Doesn't Operation Skeleton Key ring any bells. I was there as part of the Covert Operations surveillance of Alexei Sarov. It was one big CIA fuck up from start to finish. Cost me my legs, my home and my innocence." Alex really wanted to lash out. His nails dug into his forearms.
The older man then spoke for the first time "Alex can we get a doctor to look at you?"
"I'm clean of DNA. Yassen was careful, used condoms and everything." Alex was gripping his arms hard enough to bruise.
"We're not looking for evidence Alex. We just want to make sure you're OK"
"I'm well used." Alex stated with a half laugh, half sob. "I haven't been OK since Jon died."
The black guy then spoke again "John.. who's John."
"Jonathan Smith.. my other dad. Tony's late partner. He died working for MI6 in Afghanistan or some other neighbouring shit hole. Killed by Taliban or Al Queda with three guys from M-unit SAS. January this year." Alex took a deep calming breath and was back to being emotionless. He was well practiced at stomping down his emotional baggage.