Finally Free - Alex Rider

Chapter Seventeen

I glanced up as Eagle stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before taking a seat next to my bed.

"How's the back?" He asked quietly, and I gave a one-sided shrug,

"Apparently gonna scar for the rest of my life... How's the shoulder?"

He glanced down at the sling keeping his arm in place, "Well, I'm so full of painkillers right now, I can't feel a thing... So I'll have to get back to you on that" It was silent for a minute. "... I'm sorry".

I looked up in surprise, "... What?"

He continued to stare down at his lap, "I'm sorry".

"What for?"

"For everything, I guess... For ignoring you when you first came to Beacon's all those years ago, for not being the politest when you arrived a few weeks back, for not believing you when you told us bout the SO, for everything..." He replied, before frowning, "And thanks... For getting us out of there, I mean".

"Two revelations in one day? Maybe we should give you morphine more often" I teased

he gave a small smile, "Yea... But seriously though, I really am grateful. Who knows how long we would have lasted if it weren't for you".

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been there in the first place" I muttered.

He decided to ignore that part.

"Snake. Seriously. I'm fine" I growled, shoving him away.

He sighed, "Cub, you got out of hospital this morning. This. Morning. You shouldn't even be walking yet".

"I'm sitting, actually" I muttered, staring out the jeep window, and he glared at me,

"Alexander Jonathan Rider. You got shot less than a week ago. You spent one day in hospital. ONE. DAY. For three bullet wounds and a shredded back. You don't even have the stitches taken out yet. So if you think for one second young man, that you're starting training the second we go back camp, you've got another thing coming. I don't give a damn what the SO says. I don't give a damn what Brecon Beacons says. And I most certainly don't give a damn what you say. You are NOT injuring yourself any further, and that's final... Now. What do you have to say for yourself?"

I stared at him, "... How the fuck do you know my middle name?" Eagle burst out laughing. Wolf grinned.

And Snake looked about two inches from strangling me. "Cub, I swear to god, if you make one more remark..." He replied quietly, and I sighed,

"Alright, fine. No more comebacks... And seriously man, I appreciate the concern, I really do... But I am NOT quitting training for just some stupid injury".

"Why the hell not?" He exclaimed, "And for the last goddamn time Cub, will you please just give me a serious. answer".

I stared out the window for another minute, before taking a deep breath and turning back to him, "... I'm a spy, Snake. I've been a spy for 6 years, yet only an adult for 6 months. I've been a British agent, a Russian assassin, and an Italian Contract Killer. I've been trained by the best of the best on both the good and bad side. I've learned from the worlds leading torture expert, been advised by the worlds leading serial killer, and done a couple favours for every Mafia on this planet. I was barely a teenager when I started, and I haven't stopped since. I don't get any holidays, any Easter or Christmas breaks, I don't even get sick leave. If I come back injured, who gives a damn? MI6 certainly doesn't, and their opinion is the only one that matters... If I stop training, If I just stay in the cabin for a couple days, not doing anything... Then for the first time in over half a decade, I'll have time to think. Think of everything I've done, everything I've seen. Think of all the people I've killed, and think about how their mother is now missing her son, or how that little girl will never see her father again, or even how that woman no longer has a baby brother... If I have time to think, Snake... Then I'm gonna go insane. And if that happens, then I'm mentally unstable. Which means MI6 can no longer use me. And then what? I'll have no money, no house, no job. And even if Jones is kind enough not to blacklist me? I'll still never be able to get a job again. I'd be too paranoid, too cautious. If I even saw someone wearing a heavy jacket, I'd automatically scream bomb. If I caught someone shoplifting, I'd probably end up killing them. And even if it wasn't a face-to-face job. If I just worked over the phone. I still wouldn't be able to do it. Because I'd be constantly thinking throughout that entire call, that maybe this lines bugged, maybe someone's wired it, or maybe even the person at the other end was a bad guy. An old enemy, perhaps. Someone there just to keep me talking while a couple of his friends try to break in to murder me... If I don't do this training, Snake... If I stop all activity... Even for just one day... There's no way in hell I'd ever be the same after it again".