The mystery of how Alex had gotten here was another problem. Last he remembered, he had been with several MI6 agents debriefing after the crash of Air Force One then he had been bundled into a car allegedly to go back home and now…he took stock of the barren interrogation room again. He doubted he was with MI6 and he had thoroughly crushed Cray and his plan which left very few options of who could have known about the operation and have the resources of stealing him out from under his handlers.
The door opened seamlessly cutting off his thoughts and of fucking course things couldn’t be easy could they? He mused taking in the tall, blonde that strode purposefully into the room then froze when he registered just who was sitting in front of him.
“Oh hey, Dad , fancy seeing you here.”
He didn’t know why he was surprised, Ian had told him his father was “in the field”. Alex hadn’t known what that meant and Ian had refused any attempt of Alex to ask with ‘It’s better for both of you not to know. If you got caught Alex…’ at first he had been offended that Ian had thought he would break so easily under torture. And then he had actually been tortured and he appreciated the small mercy.
“Alex?” It occurred to him that he had never seen his Dad look afraid before - angry, sure, but afraid? John Rider was too prideful for that. Turned out, he didn’t want to see his normally cocky and exuberant Dad scared. The fact that Alex was currently sitting tied to a chair in what was obviously an interrogation room and with his Dad as a potential interrogator probably didn’t help. Combined with the fact that his father had no idea that he was being brought here, wherever that was, and there was no way that could even be remotely considered a good sign.
“What are you doing here?” He hissed, voice tinged with anger. There was the Dad he knew and loved sometimes.
John wiped the blade clean on his trousers then roughly grabbed Cossack’s chin and titled his head into the light frowning as the blood obscured his work. A harsh wipe revealed the jagged cut - a serrated knife had definitely been the right choice, he mused as a ran a finger down the torn skin. Cossack….Yassen would be safe, protected from being used by anybody in the business and he would never hear the code name of his protege ever again.
And what a risk for SCORPIA but they spent too much money training him, had seen his results on the range and with Hunter. The scar is a liability but at some point down the line it becomes a brand.
Guess who was struck by the inspiration bullet but didn’t have her drawing notebook handy-
(I didn’t want to refine/take out the crudeness bc I thought it suited the theme)
(Also yes this was done on a sticky note. That says Grammar Wise.)
