1.18 am, Thursday, 21st April

Point Blanc, the Alps

They had entered the academy in a much… calmer manner than Alex had left it, a group of six men and one boy skiing down from the helicopter drop point in all-white camouflage. None of the other soldiers were from K-Unit, it was just Wolf, and Alex still wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

Mrs Jones had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't allowed to get his own gun - which suited Blunt just fine. When they needed him, he was a man. When he asked to protect himself, he was just a kid.

At least he hopefully wouldn't have need of one anyway - Jones had also made it clear that she wanted as little bloodshed as possible, so the SAS were employing more non-lethal methods to subdue the guards rather than shooting first, asking questions never.

Unfortunately, however, those same guards apparently hadn't gotten the memo.

"You didn't die!" Mrs Stellenbosch exclaimed, suddenly appearing at the dining room door, "You're still alive!"

He had never seen her look less human. Her entire face was contorted with anger, her lips rolled outward, her eyes ablaze. Her voice was almost a whine, as if somehow, none of it had been fair. The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed around them.

"You brought them here! You've ruined everything!"

"That's what I'm paid for" Alex quipped, mind already racing miles ahead as he tried to figure out a way around her. He'd seen Dr Grief climb into the helicopter outside through the dining room windows and he knew that he couldn't let him get away.

Mrs Stellenbosch lurched at him, moving with frightening speed. Alex tensed himself, feet apart, gravity centre low, just like he had been taught. But it was useless. It was like being run over by a bus. He felt the full impact of her body weight, then cried out as two massive hands seized hold of him and threw him headfirst across the room.

He crashed into a table, knocking it over, then rolled out of the way as she followed up her first attack, lashing out with a kick that would have taken his head off his shoulders if it hadn't missed by less than an inch. Alex scrambled to his feet and stood there, panting for breath. For a moment his vision was blurred. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. Stellenbosch charged again.

He threw himself forward, using another of the tables for leverage. His feet swung around, scything through the air, both his heels catching her on the back of the head. Anyone else would have been knocked out by the blow. But although Alex felt the jolt of it running all the way up his body, Mrs Stellenbosch hardly faltered. As Alex left the table, her hands swung down, smashing through the thick wood. The table fell apart and she walked through it, grabbing him again, this time by the neck.

Alex felt his feet leave the floor. With a grunt, she hurled him against the wall. He yelled out, wondering if his back had been broken. He slid to the floor. He couldn't move.

She stopped, breathing heavily, and then glanced out the window. The helicopter's blades were at full speed now. It rocked forward then slowly rose into the air. It was time to go. Stellenbosch reached down and picked up her handbag. She took out a gun and aimed at Alex. He stared at her. There was nothing he could do.

She smiled.

"And this is what I am paid for".

The dining room door swung open.

"Alex!"

Wolf.

He was holding a machine gun.

Stellenbosch lifted the gun up and fired three shots. Each one of them hit its target. Wolf was hit in the shoulder, the arm, and the chest. But even as he fell back, he opened fire himself.

The heavy bullets slammed into Mrs Stellenbosch. She was hurled backwards into the window, which smashed behind her. With a scream she disappeared into the night and the snow, headfirst, her heavy, stockinged legs trailing behind.

The shock of what had happened gave Alex new strength. He got to his feet and ran over to Wolf. The SAS man wasn't dead, but he was badly hurt, his breath rattling.

"I'm okay" he managed to say, "Came looking for you. Glad I found you".

To anyone else listening in, it would sound like he was referring to Alex being in the dining room, that Wolf had come to this part of the academy to find him again… but all Alex heard was Ian sent me to get you.

"Wolf…"

"'M okay". He tapped at his chest and Alex saw that he was wearing body armour under his jacket. There was blood coming from his arm, but the other two bullets hadn't reached him.

"Grief-"

Wolf gestured, and Alex looked around. The helicopter had left its launchpad. It was flying low outside the academy. He saw Dr Grief in the pilot's seat. He had a gun. He fired. There was a yell, and a body fell from somewhere above.

One of the SAS men.

Suddenly Alex was angry. Grief was a freak, a monster. He was responsible for all this - and he was going to get away. Not knowing what he was doing, he snatched up Wolf's gun and ran through the broken window, past the dead body of Mrs Stellenbosch and into the night. He tried to aim. The blades of the helicopter were whipping up the surface snow, blinding him, but he pointed the gun up and fired.

Nothing happened.

He pulled the trigger again. Still nothing. Either Wolf had used all his ammunition or the gun had jammed.

Grief pulled at the controls and the helicopter banked away, following the slope of the mountain. It was too late. Nothing could stop him.

Unless…

Alex threw down the gun and ran forward. There was a snowmobile lying idle a few yards away, its engine still running. The man who had been riding it was lying facedown in the snow. He leapt onto the seat and turned the throttle full on. The snowmobile roared away, skimming over the ice, following the path of the helicopter.

Grief saw him. The helicopter slowed and turned. Grief raised a hand, waving goodbye. Alex caught sight of the red glasses, the slender fingers raised in one last gesture of defiance. With his hands gripping the handlebars, Alex stood up on the foot grips, tensing himself for what he knew he had to do.

The helicopter moved away again, gaining altitude. In front of Alex loomed the ski jump. He was travelling at seventy, eighty miles per hour, snow and wind rushing past him. Ahead of him, there was a wooden barrier, shaped like a cross.

Alex smashed through it, then threw himself off.

The snowmobile plunged down, its engine screaming.

He rolled over and over in the snow, ice and wood splinters in his eyes and mouth. He managed to get to his knees. The snowmobile reached the end of the ski jump.

Alex watched it rocket into the air, propelled by the huge metal slide.

In the helicopter, Dr Grief just had time to see five hundred pounds of solid steel come hurtling toward him out of the night, its headlights blazing, its engine still screaming. His eyes, bright red, opened wide in shock. The makeshift torpedo hit its target full-on.

Point-blank.

The explosion lit up the entire mountain. The helicopter disappeared in a huge fireball and then plunged down. It was still burning when it hit the ground.

Behind him, Alex became aware that the shooting had stopped.

The battle was over.

He walked slowly back to the academy, shivering suddenly in the cold night air. As he approached, a man appeared at the broken window and waved. It was Wolf, propping himself against the wall, but still very much alive. Alex went over to him.

"What happened to Grief?" he asked.

"It looks like I 'sleighed' him" Alex replied.

Wolf snorted and then immediately grimaced.

"You truly are one of a kind, Cub".

On the slopes, the wreckage of the helicopter flickered and burned as the morning sun began to rise.

9.03 am, Monday, 25th April

Royal and General Bank, Liverpool Street

A few days later, Alex found himself sitting opposite Alan Blunt in the faceless office on Liverpool Street, with Mrs Jones twisting another peppermint between her fingers.

After everything at Point Blanc had been wrapped up, the missing boys released and Wolf whisked off by a medic, he'd been returned to the hospital in Grenoble. The doctors had frowned at his newly bruised skin and split lip, and had muttered angrily as they'd checked pulled stitches and changed old bandages.

He'd been left there for two and a half more days before being put on a plane back to London - unfortunately not on the same flight as Wolf, if he was even well enough to fly yet. It was strange to think about; only a week before, he'd have happily flipped off the man if given the chance, but after the message he'd passed along…

Ian had found out about the SAS, and what's more, he'd gotten K-Unit on his side. On their side. Wolf still hadn't apologised for the truly horrible way he'd treated him at Beacons, but… well, Alex didn't really expect him to either. Wolf didn't strike him as the sort of man who said sorry very easily, and the fact that he had given him Ian's message was worth far more than any lame old sorry anyway.

He hoped he was alright, since he'd gotten shot for him and all.

After landing in LCY, he'd immediately been whisked off to the Royal and General bank, hurried up the elevator, and then deposited at the door of Blunt's office.

Blunt, who was looking as grey and expressionless as ever, was sitting behind his just as grey desk and staring at him.

Alex decided to stare back - he wasn't going to break this silence even if his life depended on it. Which it very likely did.

Outside, the sun was shining. Inside, there were only shadows.

"It seems that once again we owe you a debt of thanks".

"You can thank me by giving me the taxi fare home".

The corner of his grey lips twitched, but the movement was so miniscule that Alex didn't even know if it was out of amusement or irritation.

"You have quite possibly changed the future of this planet" Blunt continued, ignoring his remark, "Of course, Grief's plan was monstrous, crazy. But the fact remains that his…"

He searched for a word to describe the test-tube creations that had been sent out of Point Blanc.

"... his offspring could have caused a great many problems. At the very least they would have had money. God knows what they would have done had they remained undiscovered".

"What's happened to them?" Alex asked, curious despite himself.

"We've traced all fifteen of them, and we have them under lock and key" Jones answered, "They were quietly arrested by the intelligence services of each country where they lived. We'll take care of them".

He shivered. He had a feeling he knew what she had meant by those last words. And he was certain that nobody would ever see the fifteen Grief replicas again.

"Once again, we've had to hush this up" Blunt continued. "This whole business of… cloning. It causes a great deal of public disquiet. Sheep are one thing - but human beings! The families involved in this business have no desire for publicity, so they won't be talking. They're just glad to have had their real sons returned to them. The same, of course, goes for you, Alex. You've already signed the Official Secrets Act. I'm sure we can trust you to be discreet".

There was a moment's pause. Mrs Jones looked carefully at Alex. She had to admit that she was worried about him. She knew everything that had happened at Point Blanc - had heard everything that had happened - how close he had come to a horrible death, only to be sent back into the academy for a second time.

The boy who had come back from the French Alps was different from the one who had left. There was a coldness about him, as tangible as the mountain snow.

"You did very well, Alex" she couldn't help but say.

"How is Wolf?" he asked, ignoring the comment.

"He's fine. He's still in the hospital, but the doctors say he'll make a complete recovery. We hope to have him back on operations in a few weeks".

"That's good".

"We had only one fatality in the raid on Point Blanc. That was the man you saw falling from the roof. Wolf and another man were injured. Otherwise, it was a complete success". She paused. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

Something… unnameable flashed in his eyes.

"You left me in there" he said, voice even but clearly tightly controlled, "I called for help and you didn't come. Grief was going to kill me; you heard him plan my death… but you didn't care".

"That's not true, Alex". Jones glanced at Blunt for support but wasn't surprised when none came. "There were… difficulties-"

"It doesn't matter" Alex interrupted, sounding like it very much did matter, "I'm done. I've had enough. I don't want to be a spy anymore, and if you ask me again, I'll refuse. I know you think you can blackmail me. But I know too much about you now, so that won't work anymore".

Blunt's expression darkened but the boy continued before he could speak.

"I used to think that being a spy would be exciting and special, like in the films. But you just used me. In a way, two of you are as bad as Grief; you'll do anything to get what you want. Well, I want to go home. I want to go home and I want to go back to school and I want you to never even glance in my direction again!"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Alex".

"Why the hell not?!"

"Because you're too useful". Blunt's voice was flat, matter of fact. "You were trained your entire life for this and, put simply, there is nobody else on this planet quite like you. You're too good at what you do - too good at the job to let go. It's in your blood".

"I don't give a fuck what's in my blood!" he snapped, jumping to his feet so suddenly that his chair went flying back, "I don't want to do this anymore! I never wanted to do it first day! So just when the hell are you going to let me go?!"

"When you're no longer useful!"

Which kind of sounded like never.

Or until he returned in a body bag.

But even then, Alex wondered if his uncle would ever get to see him again.

"We'll give you a few days to settle down, of course" Blunt continued, all business, "Receive some more training, bring you back up to peak health, but then you'll be sent out again. A file came in only this morning. It's an interesting case - right up your alley".

Alex simply… stared.

The small little wriggling bundle of dread deep down in his chest had started to unravel.

"That will be all". Blunt pressed a button underneath his desk. "You are dismissed".

Behind them, the door opened, and Alex remained silent as he let two guards drag him out of the room, no doubt to lock him up in the concrete cell he'd spent days in only two weeks before.

The same concrete cell that was now, apparently, his new home.

9.27 am, Monday, 25th April

Royal and General Bank, Liverpool Street

Mrs Jones watched him leave with worry in her dark eyes. She didn't like this new change in the boy, and she disliked her own role in causing that even more. Blunt, of course, had turned back to the stack of papers in front of him the second the door had opened - treating Alex like nothing more than a toy to be used and discarded as he pleased.

She found that she quite hated him for that.

"Alan" she began, carefully, "Perhaps… Perhaps we should give Alex a few more days off than planned".

"Why?"

"He's… Well, he's just different! Surely you can see that! He may be a… useful agent to have, but he's not invincible. Going back to the academy like that, seeing Stellenbosch and Grief all over again… it can't have been good for him".

"He'll have the scheduled three days off as we agreed upon, and then his training will start" Alan replied, putting down his pen just long enough to give her a withering glare, "He may not be invincible, Tulip, but he is far from broken".

"If you keep pushing him, then he's going to snap! And you know exactly who he's going to go for first!"

"Despite his admittedly unique skill set, he is still a child" Blunt said carelessly, "I'm not particularly worried about a fourteen-year-old with a black belt in karate".

"What about a fourteen-year-old with above-average firearms proficiency?" she countered, "One of the SAS soldiers told me that Alex took his gun. He was planning to shoot Dr Grief!"

"One of the SAS soldiers? Come now, Tulip, there's no need to be coy - we both know who you're referring to".

She felt her spine stiffen at that particular tone of voice, something deep down within her instinctively realising she was now in the room with a cold-blooded killer and any move could be her last.

"... Wolf was the perfect choice to lead the mission" she eventually replied, "He's the leader of a mountain troop".

"Yes" Blunt said, pleasantly, "He is. How… convenient, for you".

"Alan-"

"I can't help but think that you're having second thoughts, Tulip" he interrupted, "We both agreed to use the boy until his usefulness ran out".

Now that was a blatant lie!

She only barely caught herself from snarling at him, but based on the blank yet sharp look in his eyes, he knew exactly what she'd been thinking.

Blunt carefully replaced the cap on the nib of his silver Montblanc pen.

"Do I need to call the Prime Minister, Tulip?"

She felt pinned in place by that soulless gaze.

"... No sir".

Blunt smiled, but somehow, that was even more terrifying than the emptiness before.

"Good" he said simply, "Because I have a rather intriguing file that I'm sure he'd be interested in... It'd be better if he never got his hands on it. For your sake, not mine".

Message received.

11.45 am, Tuesday, 26th April

Chelsea, London

"Rider".

"You had some real fucking nerve, raising that brat the way you fucking did!"

Ian blinked, startled, and pulled the phone away from his ear to double-check the caller ID.

"... Wolf?"

"Yeah, it's me, you fucking prick! How dare you make him this polite and- and kind and- and so fucking genuine that I want to vomit!"

"... Are you okay?"

"No I'm not fucking okay!" the man snarled, "I was sent to the middle of fuck-ass nowhere in the French fucking Alps to rescue your fucking kid only to find him snowboarding down a fucking mountain on an ironing board just so he could save a bunch of rich fucking ponces from the creepy ass clones that the supervillain of the week decided to fucking make!"

"... I am so confused right now".

"Good! That's the least you fucking deserve! I passed on your message only to get an even more confusing fucking reply and then I had to haul him back up that fucking mountain and then I took a bullet because of him and that- that little fucking prick had the audacity to save my fucking life instead of letting us finally be even but oh no, he couldn't do that, so now I still fucking owe the little bastard and-"

He was abruptly cut off and Ian winced at the sudden sound of shouting and squabbling and the man's phone falling onto tiled floors with a clatter and even more squabbling and cursing and then-

"Sorry about that, Jaguar" came Snake's slightly out-of-breath voice, "Wolf gets a little cranky when he's on pain meds".

"Isn't he always cranky?"

There was a beat of silence.

"Crankier than usual, then" he conceded, "Anyway, I'll just get straight to the point… It was Cub. Alex. Whoever. And from what I hear, MI6 most definitely have him on a short leash".

"He understood my message then?"

"Wolf said it took a moment, but he got it in the end. He also said that Cub wanted to tell you 'red', whatever that means, as well as somethin' along the lines of SO keepin' him alive for a reason… Does that make sense to you? I can ask Wolf again, if you like, but gettin' a straight answer out of him right now-"

"No" Ian quickly interrupted, "No, no, that's- that's okay. I, uh… I understand".

"Alright" Snake replied at length, "Care to share with the rest of the class?"

"... It's like Alex said. Blunt is keeping him alive for a reason" he said, feeling strangely numb, "'Red' means- means that he's in danger, that he's not doing any of this willingly, that… that Alan fucking Blunt has something on him - something that's forcing him to do these ridiculous missions".

"Blackmail?" He could hear the surprise in the Scottish man's voice. "You're tellin' me that the Head of SO is blackmailin' your fourteen-year-old kid?!"

"I hate to break it to you, Snake, but MI6 aren't half as clean as they like the public to believe".

"What? No, no, it's not that! God, after they poached Fox and kidnapped Cub I lost all expectations for the bastards - what I'm shocked at is that your fourteen-year-old kid has supposedly done somethin' that he could be blackmailed over… I thought Cub was a nice lad".

"He is" Ian immediately replied, even as his mind raced ahead, "Which means Blunt isn't blackmailing him for something he's done… he's blackmailing him with something else…"

"Like?"

"… If you kidnapped someone and you needed them to do exactly what you asked" he started slowly, "What would you do to ensure that?"

"Well, speakin' as a decent human being, I wouldn't kidnap someone in the first place. Speaking as a soldier, however… I'd look for pressure points" Snake said, "Leverage. If the guy was clean, then I'd go down a different route - flip through his life, find somethin' he cares about, threaten someone that he cares about, or- Oh".

"Yeah". Ian closed his eyes and did his best not to scream. "Oh".

MI6 was blackmailing Alex with him.

"... Well that fucking sucks".

He laughed, but it was more hysterical than amused and he quickly forced himself to take a few deep breaths to regain control.

Alan fucking Blunt was blackmailing his kid by threatening to kill him.

As long as he was alive, then Alex would remain in MI6's grasp - but if he died, then there was nothing stopping Blunt from keeping him forever.

"What do I do?"

The words were out before he'd even realised what he was saying, but thankfully, if his voice was choked, the soldier didn't mention it.

"You keep searchin'" Snake replied firmly, "You keep searchin' and lookin' and- and doin' everythin' you can because you are not givin' up on that lad, and neither are we".

Tom's words, from what felt like a lifetime ago, echoed back at him.

"There's no way you're just going let this drop, and if you did, then I'd punch you on Alex's behalf because you never give up on anything and you definitely wouldn't ever give up on him".

He was right.

They both were.

If Ian was dead, then Alex would have no chance at all. If he was alive, then he would be used as blackmail - but at least he could still do something to try and get him out of there.

He wondered, briefly, if he could somehow go public with the information he had, before realising that Blunt would likely have no qualms in killing Alex to quite literally hide the skeletons in his closet.

"We'll figure it out, Jaguar" Snake said quietly, "You know you've got the entire SAS backin' you up and I've never seen the Sarge so willin' to help anyone before. It might take some time but… we'll figure it out, I promise you".

Ian believed him.

Truly.

… But how much damage was Blunt going to inflict on his kid until then?

"Thanks" he replied, belatedly, "I'll keep you updated. And- say thanks to Wolf as well for me, would you? He really went out on a limb for Alex".

"Will do. If anythin' comes up our side, I'll let you know… Stay strong, Jag".

Ian slowly lowered the phone, his mind a whirlwind of panic, worry, anger, fear, concern. He also couldn't shake the guilt that was gnawing at him. He'd unwittingly brought Alex into this dangerous world, and now the boy was paying the price.

He shook his head.

Self-pity would get him nowhere - and even more importantly, it wouldn't help Alex either. Right now, he just needed a distraction, some fresh air, and something to clear his head.

Grabbing his keys, he headed for the door.