Becoming Agent Rider

SAS Reunion

A nondescript black car pulled up to a small, drab administration building surrounded by mud. Alex thanked the driver and got out, duffle bag in hand. It had been a silent three hour drive from his home in Chelsea, time that he had used to go over memories of his training and missions in an attempt to figure out what he should have learned from them. If he was going to continue in this line of work, it was best to pinpoint his mistakes as soon as possible. His reflection on the past year and a half had come up with a surprising amount of things he had learned and he would make sure to never forget them.

Taking a deep breath, Alex walked into the building and followed the signs to the sergeant's office. He knocked sharply on the door twice.

"Enter."

Alex went in, closed the door behind him, and stood at attention before the black man sitting at the desk. There was a long silence as the training officer studied the boy in front of him. The teen's posture was different, more confident. There was also something in the teen's eyes that hadn't been there the last time they had met. They were cold, hard, and emotionless. Yet, haunted at the same time. A soldier's eyes. He knew that only field experience could have caused this.

Sergeant Philip Sanders had thought that he'd seen everything in his ten years of military service until he had met this boy a year and a half ago. He had wanted to have some fun giving the teen a hard time and thought it would be easy to bin him. Except the teen had surprised everyone by keeping up with the soldiers without complaint. That wasn't normal. Even the soldiers could often be heard complaining about the harsh conditions they were training in. There was a 90% fail rate for a reason and, even with concessions made for his age, a schoolboy shouldn't have been able to keep up. The teen had even had the gall to pickpocket some matches from him during one of the training exercises! He hadn't known if he should be mad, amused, or impressed with that act. He still didn't know. But from that moment on, Sanders knew that the boy had what it took to survive. Even so, he hadn't thought that his superiors were serious about sending the teen into the field. He still wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't read the file that had been sent over a couple of days ago. It told him absolutely nothing useful, not even a name or age. It had only told him the skills the boy possessed and the number of missions completed. What surprised him even further was the clearance level on the file, which was higher than his, and the 100% success rate. As impressive as it was, this whole situation wasn't right. This schoolboy was essentially a child soldier! It frustrated him that he couldn't do anything about it. And not for lack of trying either. Sanders was disgusted with MI6 for even thinking of using someone so young. He had a son and a daughter. Even without the details, Sanders shuddered to think of them going through the same thing as this teen. After reading the file, he had hoped that he'd be able to gain some insight into the boy this time around. It was time to start testing him.

"At ease."

Alex relaxed his stance and patiently waited for the sergeant to speak.

"Cub, do you know why you're here again?" Sanders barked out.

"Training, sir," Alex answered, staring straight ahead.

"It's not my job to ask questions but if it were, I'd be asking what the hell Blunt and Jones were thinking back then and what Jones is thinking now!" Sanders ranted. "One specialization takes six months to train and she expects you to specialize in every position in the unit by the end of these two months on top of your regular schooling! That's even more suicidal than last time!" He paused, noticing mild amusement in the boy's eyes even though the rest of his face was blank. "DO YOU FIND THIS FUNNY, CUB?!" Sanders screamed.

"No, sir!" Alex did find it funny, in a dark way, but he wasn't about to say so to the sergeant. He had asked for the training and it seemed that Jones was going to make this as difficult as possible for him.