Chapter Text
“But can’t I go with you?” Alex’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, his lip quivering. They just arrived in Zermatt, Switzerland after an aggravating time addressing flight delays and transit authority issues at the airport.
What was meant to be a lovely Christmas holiday abroad in Lucern was derailed by Alan Blunt assigning him to detail a high priority target in Zermatt because he'd be 'in the area' and Blunt assured him in would only delay their trip by a day.
Despite Blunt's promises, they were booked at the ski resort for a 3-day, 2- night stay. To which Ian had instructed Alex to pack something to keep him busy in the hotel room while he worked.
Ian sighed. While Alex wasn’t unfamiliar with flying on an airplane, Alex was only 6 years old and typically had his bag packed by a caretaker. As their last caretaker resigned unexpectedly and Ian was far too busy to manage it, Ian let him handle his own packing. He shouldn’t have been so hard on Alex.
But when security cleared him through with his firearm and pulled Alex’s suitcase from the line, he’d gotten testy about it.
Ian considered for a moment that perhaps he had been too hard on Alex. Alex only packed two shirts, a pair of pants, and underwear for a week-long holiday vacation to make room for packing his Super Nintendo Console, half a dozen games, and all the wires it requires.
Transit Authority didn’t appreciate Alex’s propensity for video games and quickly flagged his bag off their scanners for having potentially hazardous material.
They weren’t poor by any means but having the £150 device confiscated was still a considerable expense. And despite encouraging Alex to bring some (any) books and small toys, the console was his favorite. And now with it gone, he'd have nothing.
“You can come for a bit. But I need to meet someone for work. If I tell you to return to the room, you need to come right back here. No questions. Do you understand?”
Alex’s face lit up. “Yes!” Scrambling to put his shoes on and forgetting to tie the laces, Ian chuckled at the door. “You remember the way here from the entrance, from the parking lot, and you recall the emergency exits, right?”
Ian kneeled to tie his shoes—something Alex did—in fact—know how to do, he just had become rather stubborn about not keeping them tied. Ian sorely missed the days of velcro.
“Yup! Elevator to the second floor, two right turns and third door on the right. Back entrance leads to—“
“Yes, Alex. Good. Always remember where you’ve been so you can always get back. You know the drill.” He tousled Alex’s already messy head of hair. He’d have to buy Alex another hairbrush as well. And toothbrush, and toothpaste. He'd tried not to think of what else Alex forgot but all things, including the new gaming console, would certainly be billed to Santa Blunt as part of his expenses for this trip.
“Can we get some hot cocoa?”
“Sure Alex.”
Ian positioned them by one of the windows as they sat with their steaming mugs. Alex already had whipped cream on his nose and a burnt tongue for attempting to drink it too soon, but Ian didn’t notice.
Instead, he was looking diligently through the crowds.
An investment broker and former IT specialist by the name of Gerald Randolph got himself wrapped up in Scorpia affairs. Previously fired from his first job for delving too far into secured financial information, he was arrested and fined heftily for ethics violations only to then land a rather prestigious job in investing.
And if Ian played his cards right, he’d be able to lift a flash drive off the man that would prove useful to MI6. Randolph managed to collect financial information out from Scorpia’s nose about their latest operations and had been foolishly using it as leverage against them. Though Scorpia's patience for such things was notoriously short.
While there was no immediate sign of Randolph, he spotted another familiar figure in the crowd walking into the lower entrance of the resort: Gregorovich. His blood ran cold.
“Alex, I need you to return to the hotel room,” he said softly.
“Huh?” Now sporting a whipped cream mustache with his cup empty, Alex looked hysterical but Ian had far more concerning things to address. Grabbing a napkin and wiping Alex face, he intoned, “You need to get back to the room. I’ll be there in a bit, but I need to meet someone for work first. Here,” Ian nudged his cup over. “You can have mine too if you’d like.”
Alex took a sip of the proffered cup. Though lukewarm and with the whipped cream already melted in, it was still fairly chocolatey and sweet. Alex accepted it. Popping the plastic lid back on, Alex left, following Ian’s instructions: no questions.
Though he realized Ian never really said when he’d be back and they hadn’t eaten yet. His stomach grumbled.
“Ian?” Turning, he saw only the empty table where they sat. Embarrassed at talking aloud to no one, he blushed started making his way back to the room, room card in hand.
Maybe he could order food service again like that time in Germany. Though he didn’t know the number to call. Ian dialed it for him last time.
Rounding the corner, a man barreled right into him at a hasty pace, knocking cup and card from his hands.
“Argh. Stupid kids.” The man didn’t even apologize. Brushing himself off, he left Alex to sort out the spilled drink in the hallway.
Glancing around, he realized his room card skidded unnaturally quite a ways down the hall behind him and clambered to his feet. Blessedly, little of the drink soaked into his clothes but the same couldn't be said about the carpeted floors.
Grabbing his card, he doubled back for napkins from the dispensary to help clean up the mess before continuing on his way.
Hm....a one…a two…a three.
Alex set his keycard in the reader only for it to blink red. Keeping up with the age-tradition Ian upheld by grumbling about the ‘stupid electronics’, Alex removed his card, waited a moment, then reinserted it. The red light blinked again. Huh?
Alex stepped back and counted the three doors.
Did he remember wrong? Was he on the wrong side of the hallway? Was he supposed to count three doors and go to the fourth? Alex was so flustered. Maybe the card was just malfunctioning.
Scanning it one last time, he huffed at the traitorous red lights. Just let me in! This was their room. He was sure of it. But maybe…? Maybe he did remember wrong.
Moving to the fourth door, he swiped the card and the lights lit green.
“Dumb door,” he muttered, kicking it with his toes as he rushed inside hoping no one saw his blunder. Setting the empty cup into the receptacle, he froze.
He wasn’t alone.
For a moment, Alex thought Ian might have made it back before him. But the man in front of him, aside from being roughly the same size, looked nothing like Ian.
With a pale complexion, blonde hair, and blue eyes that widened upon seeing him, this man was certainly not his uncle.
“You can’t be in here. This is my room!” Alex exclaimed.
“Yours?” The man looking curiously at something he was holding in his hands. “I was not aware he had a son.” The man’s accent was distinctly Russian.
“Nephew,” Alex corrected, walking further into the room. “And that belongs to—“
Spotting the contents of the suitcase and the lack of a second one, Alex paused. Where were their things?
“Yes?” The man prompted, a little amused.
The suitcase contained a mass of electrical wires and a laptop—something the transit authorities should’ve stopped him for instead of his own innocent gaming device, Alex thought, grumbly.
But by stepping closer, Alex also became acutely aware of the gun resting on the comforter facing the door. Alex swallowed hard.
Oh no. Ian was going to be soo mad at him.