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Monday
“I don’t suppose you’re here to invite Jack on a date, are you?” Alex asked in dismay when he found Ben Daniels on his doorstep at the end of a cloudy late September day.
The new schoolyear had just begun, and Alex had been feeling quite content. The summer after his year 10 had been a succession of good news.
Scorpia was gone. Alex may or not have something to do with it - in any case, nobody could seem to figure out a way to pin the blame on him.
A relief.
Alan Blunt had suffered from an unexpected mishap during a periodic medical exam. Something involving an accidental intravenous injection with Beluga Gold Line - 40% alcohol; 100% Russian Vodka.
Mrs Jones had taken over, and she had agreed to leave Alex alone and well away from MI6. Alex strongly suspected she had been threatened with Polugar Classic Rye: only 38.5% alcohol, but a lot more traditional.
So far, the promise had been respected. Alex had been living a normal teenager’s life for the past few weeks, going to school, playing sports, hanging out with his friends. Ben’s appearance on his doorstep was very unwelcome indeed.
“I wish I was here for a social call, Alex; but we need to talk. Inside, if you please.”
Ben followed him when Alex stomped sourly inside the living room.
“Whatever it is you want from me, it’s no.” Alex’s tone was flat, but he was brewing on the inside. He had hoped nobody would ask him to save the word until he passed his A-Levels, at the very least.
“Something has come to our attention, and I’m here to give you a warning.”
“Is this about how the new Star Wars movies are nothing like they used to be? Because Tom and I have noticed all on our own; and we rather enjoy them anyway.”
“Alex.” Alex could almost hear the silent ‘Be serious’. It irritated him even more.
”Right, a real warning, then. So this is about my flat tyre. I already know, and I’ll fix it after I finish my homework, as I’m a teenager, and as such I go to school.”
Ben pursed his lips and moved the conversation on. “We have several reasons to believe you are in danger.”
“I’ve already said no, Ben. You’re not spiriting me away anywhere.”
“We weren’t planning to.”
“Good.” Alex had a short inner debate with himself. His curiosity won. “Then why are you here?”
“I’ve just told you, Alex. We can’t be entirely certain, but you may be in danger. Mrs Jones has arranged a protection detail for you until the threat is removed. Most of it will be invisible; the idea is to let you live your life as normally as possible. I’ve joined Brookland as your new PE teacher.”
Alex blinked slowly. “Oh. It’s a real danger, then?”
“We may be wrong, Alex. But we’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Right. Can you tell me who you’re suspecting?”
“No one you’ve heard about yet. He calls himself Razim. He’s an internationally wanted terrorist who was anticipated to be the next Scorpia Board member.”
“Scorpia, again?” Alex was consternated. “I’m sorry, Ben; I need to call Jack. I need to find out where she is.”
“Take your time.”
“Thanks. And don’t make yourself at home.”
Alex’s phone was in his bedroom on the first floor of the house. He all but ran up the stairs… And gave a surprised shout when he reached the top.
There was a man dressed all in black standing against the wall. He was armed.
Well, Alex couldn’t see any visible weapons, but there was no way Yassen Gregorovich would go anywhere without at least three knives and two guns hidden on his person. Not to mention whatever else the Russian always carried with him.
An ice-pick or a garrotte wire, probably.
Or both.
It didn’t really matter. Even a paperclip became a lethal weapon when in that man’s hands.
“Is everything all right?” Ben yelled from the living-room.
“It’s fine! I thought I’d seen someone, but it’s just a shadow!”
Said shadow opened his mouth and Alex coughed loudly to cover whatever may come out of his mouth. Thankfully, Yassen got the message.
Unfortunately, Ben didn’t. “Alex? Do you want me to come upstairs?”
“No, absolutely not! I just need a moment alone!”
Silence. Alex stood still. He wondered what would happen if Ben followed him up the stairs. He had no doubt Yassen would shoot first and ask no question at all.
“Fine,” Ben said eventually. Alex let out a short sigh, then he turned to the assassin.
“You better have a very good reason to be here.”
“I do. And before you say anything, I’m staying.”
Alex bristled and deliberately bumped his shoulder into Yassen as he stomped into his room. At least, he tried to, but the man evaded him with such grace that it made Alex want to slam the door in his face.
Good sense won, though. Ben was downstairs. There was no way Alex was putting a closed door between himself, his MI6 ally, and a trigger-happy Russian assassin. No matter how helpful said assassin had been lately, in his own way.
Alex couldn’t prove it, but he was quite certain Yassen had something to do with Blunt’s Vodka injection demise. The brand was a dead giveaway.
He decided to ignore the assassin for the time being and focused on finding his phone. His room was a mess of crumpled clothes, strewn around school-books and folders, and stacked up DVDs and games, but he was quite convinced he’d left it on his desk… Ah.
“Yassen. Give me my phone.”
“Later. You will tell me who your MI6 friend downstairs is, first.”
“His name is Ben Daniels. We’ve met before a couple of times, and he’s helped. He’s killed Ash and saved my life.”
An appreciative look came across Yassen’s face. Comparing it to his usual lack of effusiveness, Alex guessed the assassin was overjoyed.
“A man of good taste, then.” Yassen gave a satisfied nod to himself, and Alex groaned.
Yes. Yassen was overjoyed.
“I’m glad you approve,” he answered abruptly. “Now, give me my phone.”
Yassen’s face grew serious, and Alex wondered if the man had stopped shielding his emotions, or if he himself had just got better at reading them.
“Once you’ve listened to what I have to say.”
Alex bristled. “If this is about Razim, then I already know, and I need to warn Jack.”
“Miss Starbright is currently having a wall-climbing lesson with an acquaintance of mine.”
Alex blinked. He could vaguely remember Jack mentioning something like that the day before. Something about having a new rock-climber friend. He had not expected that ‘friend’ to be someone Yassen had hired.
“Although she too lacks access to her phone, her instructor has been warned of the consequences of letting anything happen to her under his watch. She will be quite safe, I assure you.”
Alex glared at Yassen. “I want to call Jack. Don’t think for one second I won’t shout again so that Ben comes upstairs if you don’t release my phone ASAP.”
Surprisingly, Yassen relented. Jack didn’t answer Alex’s call, but he left her a voice mail and a text message before he put the phone back in his jeans’ pocket. Then he turned to the assassin:
“Why are you really here?”
“Maybe I am in a generous mood.”
“Try again.” Although Yassen appeared disinclined to kill Alex or injure him permanently, his ‘generous moods’ had once included sending him to fight a bull. Alex doubted the man would do anything really helpful without a hidden agenda of his own.
“Razim and I have some unfinished business,” Yassen admitted grudgingly.
“So you’re really here to kill him.”
“Yes. And also, to keep an eye on you.”
“But really, you’re here to kill him.”
“He is a dangerous terrorist, and I’m also very much biased towards keeping you alive.”
Alex pondered this. He decided the Russian was probably not lying.
“Let’s say I believe you. Now what?”
“Now you go and ask this ‘Ben’ what MI6 security measures are. Then you come back and let me know.”
“And once you’ve decided they’re enough, you will leave.”
“If.”
“Why should I trust you?”
The only answer was a raised eyebrow. Alex got the message: he wasn’t given a choice.
He threw his smellier t-shirt at Yassen before he went back downstairs.
“Did you reach Jack? Are you feeling better?” Ben asked with a concerned look on his face when Alex entered the living room.
“Not yet. I’ll keep trying, if you don’t mind.” Not only did Alex really want to keep trying, but it would also give him an excuse to go back to his room and report his findings to Yassen. And hopefully, to get rid of the assassin.
One could always hope.
“Don’t worry, Alex,” Ben told him in a reassuring voice. “Razim is bad news, but he’s lost most of his backup, so he’s nothing we can’t handle. Besides, we’re not even sure he’s after you.”
Alex took a deep breath. “Okay. But you need to make sure he’s not coming after Jack, either.”
“The two of you will be fine, Alex. We have people watching you 24/7. Their orders are to make sure they’re not intrusive, we haven’t planted cameras in your home or anything like that. But I’d like you to allow us to track your phone.”
“As if you needed my authorisation to do that,” Alex grumbled. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t say anything about not planting bugs in my home or cameras in my school.”
Ben had the good taste to look guilty. “No cameras in school, either.” Alex immediately surmised Yassen had disposed of the bugs in the house before their little conversation upstairs. Maybe the assassin was useful for something, after all. Bugs weren’t his only problem, though.
“Fantastic. So, when I notice someone tailing me, I won’t even be able to tell if this is one of yours or one of the other bad guys.”
Ben ignored that jab. “Did you notice anybody tailing you on your way home today Alex?”
“My bike,” Alex answered impudently. “My tyre was flat, so my bike followed me home.”
“Exactly. We know how to be discreet, Alex. Unless you see me in school, you won’t even know we’re here; and it’s only until this threat has been dealt with.”
Alex mulled this over. He didn’t like it for one moment. And if he didn’t like it, then there were chances that Yassen wouldn’t, either.
Which meant Yassen wouldn’t leave.
Which meant there were plenty of chances he and MI6 would tread on each other’s toes while trying to protect him. Threat non-withstanding, this was bound to be a disaster.
Alex’s life was ruined.
Tuesday
The next day found Alex waking up with a terrible sense of foreboding.
Just as he had expected, Yassen hadn’t been impressed by the security measures Ben had revealed. Then again, Yassen rarely seemed impressed by anything MI6 did.
As a consequence, not only would Alex spend his next every waking moments under MI6’s scrutiny, but the Russian had also assured he would be there to keep an eye on things, too.
Alex particularly hadn’t liked the strange glint in the assassin’s eyes when he had tried to make him promise to remain discreet. Yassen had appeared to take Alex’s request as a challenge.
The only comfort Alex felt was that unlike Ben, Yassen wouldn’t get to stalk him in school.
With all the excitement, he had forgotten about his flat tyre. He was running late enough that Jack drove him to school, chattering all the way about the sexy climbing instructor, and how she had reached the top of the wall using the pink climbing holds only.
He didn’t tell her the instructor had been hired by his self-appointed assassin bodyguard. He had yet to tell her about the threat hanging over them. Both Ben and Yassen had promised him Jack would be safe, but he wasn’t completely certain he trusted them.
Both of them had also confirmed they weren’t 100% convinced Alex was Razim’s new target, so in the end, Alex had decided not to worry her needlessly. She had been so happy and carefree lately. He would tell her later, once he knew more, if the threat turned out to be real.
Or if she became serious about Yassen’s acquaintance. Which he really hoped she wouldn’t.
That would be a disaster.
For now, he had school. And assembly. Alex was quite convinced assembly would be when Mr Bray would introduce the new PE teacher, and he wasn’t very much interested into clapping for Ben at the moment.
He considered skiving; he was late already, after all… then he realised MI6 people would be watching him.
He didn’t want them to put on their reports that he was skiving classes, not even assembly. Chances were Yassen had hacked their file on him, and Alex definitely didn’t need yet another “You belong in school” lecture.
His ears were still sore from the last one.
He ran to the assembly hall as the bell was ringing, but he came to a stop before he reached the double doors.
There was a man dressed all in black standing against the wall. He was armed.
“You… You can’t be here!” Alex stage-whispered at the assassin.
“I am waiting for Mr Bray to introduce me. Jan Jäger, I’m the new German language assistant.”
“That’s a ridiculous name. And where is the real German assistant?” Alex feared the worst.
Yassen shrugged. “Bribed.”
Barely better. “You can’t be here! You’re too old to be an FLA, and you’re not even German!”
“I’m 28, and I’m German.”
“No you’re not!”
“Can you prove that?” There was that odd challenging glint in Yassen’s eyes again. If Alex didn’t know any better, he’d say the man was amused.
Alex definitely wasn’t. “Ben is already here! He’s bound to recognise you! I don’t need you here, and I don’t want you in my school, you need to leave, Yassen!”
“Jan. And I’m staying. Your headmaster will introduce me to the entire school shortly.”
Alex threw up in arms in disgust. “And how am I supposed to explain your presence to Ben?”
Oh, there was definitely amusement in Yassen’s eyes, and Alex realised he had basically told the assassin he would help him hide his presence from MI6.
The bastard would unquestionably take advantage of that.
“You can explain that however you want, Alex.” Yassen smiled far too innocently. “Thanks for offering.”
He even had the gall to speak with a German accent when it was just him and Alex in the corridor.
Alex glared at Yassen one last time for good measure before he pushed the doors open. He didn’t want to waste any more time talking to this so-called new foreign language assistant.
He had some damage control to do.
Alex didn’t have any gadgets on him, nor did he have time to plan something elaborated. He decided on the spot keeping Ben away from Yassen meant using a common enough distraction.
As he had expected, the MI6 operative was standing on the stage next to Mr Bray. He was wearing sportswear, and Alex would have sniggered if he wasn’t already playing his part.
Alex Rider had a reputation of being sickly. Time to use it.
He was fashionably late as he entered the hall, so obviously every head turned to him when he came in and made his way to the stacked-up chairs at the back. He made a show of holding his belly and moving slowly.
Once he was sure he had Ben’s concerned attention, he moved on to phase two, and pretended to collapse on the floor.
The easiest way to keep Ben busy and away from Yassen was to make Ben think Alex had been poisoned. He’d almost feel guilty, if he wasn’t so pissed off at the intelligence world in general at that moment.
Just as he had expected, not only did the whole room erupt into a mess, but Ben also rushed to his side, claiming he had first-aid training. Alex found it almost too easy to convince the man to help him to the infirmary.
When the two of them came out of the hall, Ben’s attention was completely focused on Alex. Yassen, still leaning against the wall, watched them go with a smirk on his face. His only reply to Alex’s glare was to give him a wave and an ironic thumbs up.
Alex spent the rest of the day hiding in the infirmary, until the school nurse eventually figured he had obviously only had a case of bad nerves and declared him free to go.
Ben had opted to spend his lunch break with Alex. Alex had felt true relief that he and Yassen wouldn’t meet in the staff room in the meantime.
Alex really hoped this whole threat thing would be resolved soon; if not, then trying to prevent Ben and Yassen’s paths from crossing would surely give him grey hair before the end of the week.
His life was definitely ruined.
Wednesday
The best thing about Ben’s cover as a PE teacher was that he spent most of his days outdoors or in the gym. Alex knew he was around, but he could go to class as usual.
Alex had hoped that Yassen’s presence in his school wouldn’t be too intrusive, either. After all, as an FLA, Yassen wasn’t supposed to step much further than the languages aisle of the school.
Supposed being the key word. To Alex’s growing annoyance, the man somehow managed to find reasons to show up at his every interclass. Alex guessed he had found his schedule while he’d been alone in his room on Monday, and that he’d memorised it.
It was hell. Instead of making himself discreet, Yassen had decided Jan was an extravert, and he played his part with an obvious amount of dedication. To make things worse, he had chosen to interact more specifically with Alex, and several of his classmates had noticed.
Yassen’s answer had been to put his arm around Alex’s shoulder and publicly claim that Alex’s excellent grasp of the German language made him feel like he was at home, talking to his little brother, whom he missed dearly. The girls had oohed and aahed. The boys had asked “Jan” what kind of activities he usually shared with his little brother. The bastard had answered “football,” and had thus been invited to their traditional Wednesday after-school football game.
Alex was absolutely certain MI6’s men would be there, too. He had told Yassen as much. The man had told him he wouldn’t miss playing a football game against Alex if his life depended on it.
Alex had argued that it probably did. Yassen had retorted that since he was only present to protect Alex’s own life, then Alex could deal with MI6.
He had then tried to claim his stomach-ache from the day before prevented him from playing, but his mates had refused that excuse.
So after school that Wednesday, Alex left his phone at home, changed into his football clothes, and went to join his friends in the park.
When he got there, there was a man dressed all in black standing against the fence. He was armed.
It was quickly growing old.
“Don’t you have any coloured clothes?”
“I do. Jan doesn’t. Makes laundry easier.”
“That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”
Yassen smirked and they started walking towards the football field. Yassen made conversation on the way. “So, have you been followed?”
“I told Ben I was avoiding the game because my stomach is still sore, and I left my phone at home. If someone tries to kill me today, to my knowledge, you’re my only bodyguard.”
“Hm.” Yassen looked thoughtful. “How long?”
“You mean, how long until MI6 figure out I gave them the slip?”
A patient look was Yassen’s only answer. It irked Alex. “You’re the professional. Guess.”
“Long enough to win, then,” Yassen concluded simply.
“You can’t possibly be hoping to do anything else than sit by the side and cheer!”
“I am. I’m playing. And winning.”
“Are you out of your mind? You’ll be the only adult in the middle of a bunch of kids, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb!”
“Maybe I enjoy the attention.” Yassen looked distinctly smug.
“Do you even know how to play football?” Alex retorted in exasperation.
“Not really.” A shrug. “But to quote your Gary Lineker, ‘Football is a simple game; 22 men chase a ball for 90 minutes and at the end, the Germans win.’”
“You’re not German.”
“Today, I am.”
Alex rolled his eyes, but they had reached his friends, so he dropped the conversation.
The next hour passed quickly. The teams were chosen, and of course ‘Jan’ insisted upon playing against Alex. He ended up being rather good at football, and assisted Tom’s goals enough times that the two of them were bantering like old friends at the end of the first period.
Alex would never admit it in public, but he was somewhat jealous.
Then it was time for a break. Alex’s team was being beaten only by 4 to 3, so he was still hopeful that they would catch up to Tom and Yassen’s team. He absolutely didn’t want the man to brag about the game for the rest of the time he’d be tailing Alex.
The boys and the few girls who were there had begun sharing crisps and sodas, and some of them pulled out their phones, too. Among those, Tom.
“Alex? I’ve got a text from Jack. She says you forgot your phone, and she’s bringing it here.”
“Oh.” Alex glanced sideways at Yassen, who was currently sprawled on the grass regaling various teens with made-up stories of his life in Berlin. The man hadn’t seemed to hear Tom, but with him, you could never know. “Tom, can I borrow your phone to call her back?”
“Why?” asked his friend while munching out of a Pringles can. “Jack’ll be here with yours at any time now.”
“Maybe because I don’t want her here?”
“Jack’s cool. And didn’t she say she was looking for a new boyfriend? Jack and Jan sounds like a good match, right?”
Alex choked on his coke. It gave him an idea: he kept coughing. Again, and again, until even he could tell he was red in the face.
Yassen was the only adult present, and he ‘took it upon himself’ to walk Alex home.
This sickness excuse was annoying, but useful: Alex and Yassen left the park before Jack and her MI6 agents tails arrived.
The only remaining problem was that Yassen spent the whole walk home boasting loudly, and even re-enacting the football game. After a while, Alex noticed that every single time they crossed someone, Yassen’s gestures would get momentum, his fake German accent went heavier, and he would let out a raucous laugh.
Alex was quite convinced the bastard was deliberately trying to stand out, purely out of amusement.
Git.
Trying to hide Yassen’s presence from MI6 was decidedly looking more and more like Mission: Impossible.
It was official: Alex’s life was ruined.
Thursday
Thursday saw Alex waking up in a better mood than he had woken to in what felt like years.
Despite the warning he had received at the beginning of the week, nothing unusual had happened to him – well, if you didn’t take into account his new little MI6/assassin team of stalkers, of course. In any case, Alex had good hopes that Razim hadn’t been actually threatening him and Jack, and that all of them would stop being a part of his daily life very soon.
His biggest clue? Nothing at all had occurred while he’d been in the park with his friends. MI6 must have been wrong. Unless Yassen’s sole presence had acted as a deterrent, which was always an option, even if it wasn’t one Alex was interested in considering.
No, the real answer was, there was no threat upon him. Everything was fine. Alex was sure of it.
It was with this highly cheerful thought in mind that he got to school that day. Besides, he had another thing to look forward to. His year-group was going on a theatre trip, and while Ben would be coming as an escort, the German language assistant didn’t have any reason to be a part of that outing. It gave Alex several hours without having to worry that Ben and Yassen’s paths would cross - and several hours away from Yassen’s twisted sense of humour, as well, which was a definite boon.
Alex and his class were going to the Shakespeare's Globe Theatre to watch a live performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream, one of Shakespeare’s plays that was okay, in Alex’s opinion. He did keep his eyes open for anything untowardly all the way to the theatre, up until he and Tom sat comfortably with the rest of their classmates, but once more, nothing unusual happened at all. Alex allowed himself to completely relax and settled down to enjoy the play.
All remained fine until Act II started, and then there was a man dressed all in black standing on the stage. He was armed.
He was also wearing a crown of thorns and flowers upon his head, strange googles over his eyes, and flower mittens over both hands.
What the…?!
“How now, spirit! whither wander you? ” the man started with a German accent, and Alex was then 100% certain that his mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him.
That. Utter. Prat!
“Blimey, isn’t that Jan?” Tom asked in a gobsmacked voice.
Excited whispers broke all round them, and Alex’s dismay grew all the worse when he thought he heard Ben’s terse voice join them and ask his classmates if they knew ‘Puck’. And of course, one of them answered.
This wasn’t happening. Yassen Gregorovich wasn’t really standing on a stage playing Shakespeare with flowers in his hair for all the MI6 agents protecting Alex to see. This wasn’t bloody happening.
Only, it was. The whispers assuaged at last, and the play went on, and Yassen was still on stage. He wasn’t even bad at acting. It felt like this nightmare went on forever, and Alex couldn’t wake up. Until Yassen stared straight at him with a provocative smirk on his face, and Alex realised that the strange googles he was wearing must actually be night goggles, or a similar device. And that the damn git was definitely goading him on purpose.
“I’ll follow you. I’ll lead you about a round,
Through a bog, through bush, through brake, through brier.
Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire,
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.”
That bloody bastard.
Alex slipped away from his classmates at the end of the play and went backstage, firmly intent on catching Yassen and telling him what was on his mind away from Ben and his classmates. As soon as he reached the man, Alex kicked him. Yassen stepped away easily, obviously, but the attempt did make Alex feel better.
“Hello Alex. What did you think about my performance?”
“Are you bonkers, or just completely daft? Why on earth would you do something like that?”
“Being on stage gave me an excellent vantage point of the whole place, and made me perfectly positioned to act in case of an attack,” Yassen answered in that annoying reasonable voice of his. Alex wanted to smack him.
“And it made it worth being seen highjacking Shakespeare and playing Puck in front of the entire school, including Ben?!”
Yassen shrugged. “Maybe not. But your face right now? Definitely worth it. And I’d do it again, no questions asked.”
“Yassen, please, nothing’s going to happen to me, just leave it out!”
“No. Not until I am satisfied. Haven’t you listened to a word I said in Act III at all? Notably, the ‘I’ll follow you’ speech?” The arsehole was smirking, and Alex felt like screaming.
His life was so totally ruined.
Friday
Alex woke up in a very bad mood the following morning. Today was the day he had PE with his class. He had begged Yassen not to interfere this time, but the man had argued that as an assassin, he could see an outdoor PE class as an excellent opportunity to get rid of Alex.
Alex now felt that his only option to keep Yassen away from Ben would be to keep Ben away from Yassen.
If that made sense. (It made sense in his mind).
Problem: he didn’t have the slightest idea of how to achieve that. Maybe he should have told Tom what was going on. He had been very tempted after the theatre incident. Things would be easier if he had an accomplice.
But Tom had followed Alex backstage after the play and he and ‘Jan’ had appeared so chummy that it made telling Tom that Yassen was really an assassin who’d self-appointed himself as Alex’s bodyguard sound like a terrible idea. Even if his mate found it in himself to keep his gob shut, Alex figured Tom would spend every one of their next interactions half terrified and half amazed by the man – and that would make hiding Yassen from Ben even more complicated than it already was.
Or worse: they would both decide to gang up and annoy Alex together. A Yassen/Tom team taking the piss was not something Alex wanted to face, ever.
Alex walked out of the locker room with the heavy steps of a man walking to his death. Just as he feared, when he reached the athletic field, there was a man dressed all in black leaning against a tree. He was armed.
An assassin is unpredictable and doesn’t have habits, his foot.
It wouldn’t be so bad if there wasn’t another man standing on the other side of the field dressed as a PE teacher, who was most likely just as equally armed.
Not to mention that there were possibly other MI6 agents Alex couldn’t see yet.
His impeding sense of doom kept growing. Alex slowly approached his first target. Tom sauntered there first.
“Hi Jan! Are you participating in PE today?”
“Hello Tom. Ah no, just outside for a cigarette or ten between periods. I’m having 9.4 next.”
“You know you’re not supposed to encourage students to smoke, right?” Tom grinned at Yassen.
“I’m not very much into following rules, to be honest. And 9.4 are wild.”
“Delinquents in the making, the whole lot of them,” Tom approved in Mr Bray’s voice.
To Alex’s utmost disgust, Yassen grinned and high-fived Tom before launching into an entirely too complicated and elaborated handshake. Alex tried to convince himself he wasn’t jealous at how well the pair of them seemed to get along.
He didn’t know which one he should be jealous of, anyway.
In any case, it seemed that Alex had other problems to focus on; notably, the fact that Ben had definitely noticed Yassen, his adulthood, and his lack of school uniform. The MI6 agent had a distinctive frown on his face, and his hand was reaching for something in his pocket.
Yassen had obviously seen him, too. His reaction was not the one Alex expected: he gave the other man a cheerful wave.
What the heck?
Ben came closer. “Hello, you must be Jan, right?”
Yassen went to shake Ben’s hand and replied enthusiastically in rapid-fire German. It was fast and accented enough that Alex was having a hard time just catching a word or two here and there, while Ben, apparently, had no problem following at all and answered at the same pace.
What on earth was going on?
And then, Alex realised he had just enough words to deduce the rest of the conversation. He had understood ‘Razim’, ‘threat’, ‘truce’ and ‘don’t make a scene,’ or maybe ‘don’t get in my way’.
Yassen wasn’t trying at all to hide from MI6. He was telling Ben exactly why he was there, and that he intended to stay. And Ben, apparently, already expected that – and possibly agreed.
Had Ben recognised Yassen at the theatre? And if he had, why hadn’t he said anything? Or had he taken a picture and showed it to MI6, which meant they knew the assassin was in London? Alex’s mind was racing... until Tom interrupted his thoughts.
“Waw Teach, that’s so cool, and I don’t even like German!”
“Hey, that’s rude!” Yassen exclaimed before he and Tom grinned at each other again.
Ben seemed to realise only at that moment that they had an audience, and sent a murderous glance at his interlocutor. Said man seemed to think this was the time to say something like ‘See? You forgot to observe your surroundings. I’m better than you and you need my help.’
Well, this was what Alex inferred was Yassen’s message in German, anyway. He looked far too smug to have said anything else.
Ben couldn’t even answer properly with all the teenagers gathered around them. Which was possibly Yassen’s plan.
The MI6 agent gave the Scorpia assassin a curt nod, and he went to teach his class.
Alex could see the latter leaning against a tree and smoking a cigarette while he and his peers were running laps as a warm-up. To Alex’s trained enough eyes, it was obvious that the assassin was intently observing his surroundings. However, on the outside, the man appeared to be perfectly relaxed.
Until Alex started a new lap, and Yassen wasn’t there. Alex sent a sideway look at Ben, and he noticed the agent had tensed considerably.
Alex slowed down. He tried to listen in case he heard something undesirable among his classmates’ running and panting and the wind rustling in the leaves, but Ben blew his whistle.
“Keep on moving, kid!”
“But Teach…”
“No whining, keep running!”
Something was going on. And Alex was on the side-lines. Well, so to speak.
Alex usually really didn’t want to get involved in all this spy and assassination stuff, but it was his own life that was at stake. He obeyed Ben, and kept running, but he couldn’t get over his worry.
“Mate, you all right?” asked Tom who had just run behind Alex.
“I don’t think so.” Alex knew his tension was palpable, but Tom only looked astonished.
“Is it that stuff again? In school? Here in Brookland? Really?”
“Yes. You shouldn’t run with me.”
“Safety in numbers, mate - you won’t get rid of me!”
“Just… don’t run too close, Tom.” Tom ignored him, and Alex’s stress doubled.
“Hey, where’s Jan gone to?”
“Tom, leave it out, really.”
“Right. I’m coming over tonight, and you better tell me everything or else I’ll ask Jack.”
“Yeah. Fine. I will. But can you stay away, please?”
“Nope.”
This went on for far too long.
Then Alex started a new lap, and Yassen was back against his tree. He had another cigarette in his hand, and he gave Alex a thumbs up when their eyes met.
Alex looked at Ben again. The agent looked sour, but he was no longer as taunt. Alex decided to test the waters.
“Teach, can we stop running? I’ve got a stitch!”
“All right, then!”
And Alex knew the threat was gone, at least for now. Just like that.
It was almost disappointing.
He went to sit with Tom somewhere close to Ben, and his classmates joined them soon enough that his best friend didn’t have enough time to ask for explanations again.
This suited Alex perfectly. He was tired of all that drama. When he noticed Yassen was gone from his tree (probably to get rid of the body), he decided to forget about all this lest his mind drove him crazy.
He listened intently for Ben’s next instructions and was happy to hear they were all about sports. The rest of the class happened normally enough, and the assassin didn’t reappear.
Ben caught up with Alex at the end of the day, and he took him to speak in an empty cupboard between two classrooms.
“Didn’t anybody tell you you’re not supposed be alone with a student behind a closed door? Because I’m a kid, and you’re all grown up, so this could possibly be abuse!”
“Do you want me to tell you what happened in the middle of the schoolyard, or would you rather I followed you home?”
“I can’t let you follow me home right after you’ve dragged me in a cupboard, Ben. People will talk.” Alex smirked. “See? This is me protecting you.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Thank you so much for caring about my safety enough to risk yourself, Alex. I’m truly appreciative.”
This subdued Alex right away. “Sorry, Ben. It’s not really you I’m mad at.”
“I know, kid. Don’t worry about it.” Ben did look understanding, and Alex felt relieved that he hadn’t inadvertently pissed off one of the few MI6 people his instincts told him to trust. He gave Ben a small smile.
“So what happened, really?”
“I’m sure you can guess. Your assassin found his target. I’m going to pretend I didn’t see him because he was somewhat helpful in protecting you, and if all goes well, you’ll have a new PE teacher by Monday.”
“Oh.” Alex felt strangely touched. ”You knew who he was, but you let him stay anyway?”
“He had intel we didn’t, and he refused to share it, so allowing him to stay was another chance to keep you safe, yes.”
Alex gave Ben a small but sincere smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I told him he’s got until the end of the day to leave. Hopefully, he’s already gone, and your life will get back to normal.”
“And you’ll remove your surveillance and everything?”
“We’ll keep an eye on you until we’re certain things are settled. Once we are, I’ll let you know. Now go, and enjoy your weekend!”
“You too, Ben. And thanks again.”
Yassen was very much not gone yet. He was waiting for Alex in the corridor, and Alex suspected he had been listening at the door.
“Tom wanted me to tell you he’ll see you at your place,” the assassin said as a greeting.
“Right.” They started walking together towards the school gates.
“So now that you’re done stalking me and that MI6 is back to chasing you, what are your plans?” Alex asked.
“For the foreseeable future?” That annoying little glint was back in Yassen’s eyes. “I was thinking about base-jumping. Or bungee-jumping. Or maybe renting a hot-air balloon. I feel like flying a hot-air balloon all over London, and maybe wave at people from above the sky. Say, do you still go rowing near Hammer-smith on Saturdays? Maybe I can pop by and say hello…”
Alex stared at Yassen in denial. “No.” A pause. “You can’t! Ben said your truce with MI6 was over!”
“It is. But as long as you continually and persistently put your life in danger, I don’t intend to remove myself as your bodyguard.” Yassen retorted flatly.
“I don’t put myself in danger!”
“You do.” Yassen smirked. “See you tomorrow, then.”
Alex’s life may be safe for now, but it was also apparently indefinitely, completely ruined!