Alex Rider and K-Unit

3. Two Weeks

It was a nearly two whole weeks that MI6 left Alex alone. Two weeks of, despite being at a camp full of SAS soldiers not overly keen on his existence, absolute bliss. But everything good must come to an end.
    He was sat on an empty bench at breakfast, after collecting his soggy porridge from the cooks. There was someone new, a young woman who looked to be in her late twenties, with thick, glossy, black hair and ivory skin, and had already gained plenty of attention from the other soldiers.
    As it was just after 6am, the mess hall was packed with most of the residents of Breacon Beacons. Yet Alex had still managed to find an empty bench, a special talent of his. Everyone was impressed with his ‘talents’, but that didn’t mean anyone wanted to be associated with the covert 16 year old. It wasn’t too different from the playground hierarchy at any primary school.
    Just as he sat down on the polished wooden seat, a loudspeaker crackled to life in a  corner; “Alex Rider to the Sergeant’s Office.”
    Without even looking up, Alex could feel everybody turning to face him.
    “Oooooooooo, Cubbiekins has gotten himself into trouble”
    Glaring with such menace in the direction the voice had come from, quite a few of the men leaned back slightly without even noticing their actions, Alex stood and strode out, hearing whispers and laughs behind him.
    “Aw Cubby’s ‘bout to get binned, such a shame, I’ve loved having a kid make us all look bad for weeks.” This was unmistakably Wolf, the sarcasm evident in his words.
*      *      *
    A week later, K-Unit were all sat around a small gas light, leaving the rest of the room soaked in shadow. They had, much like any other night you might find them, a fan of battered playing cards in their hands, with a two small stacks in the middle of the table. So far Snake was winning, to the great annoyance of the others.
Suddenly, the door was shoved non-to-gently open, and Alex stumbled in, rain dripping down his exhausted features. There was a small gash on his jaw, and a growing red stain on the already muddy t-shirt he was wearing. K-Unit just stared, before Fox asked:
“Cub?”
“What are you doing back here?”
“We thought you got kicked out?”
“What happened to you?”
Alex, too worn out to care, just ignored their questions, somehow making it to his bed before collapsing onto the thin mattress. It was the first mission Alex had done it while that had had quite such a high possibility of failure - not the first, probably about the 10th, but the first in a few months. Surely the questions could wait until the morning, he had thought the unit would have been asleep by now.
Snake, having been the only one to have so far kept quiet, seemingly prompted by the wince from Alex as he bent down to untie his shoelaces, spoke up; “I hope you realise that I will have to check the wounds you have.”
Alex groaned, “Dammit I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” he paused for a second, “Can’t it wait until the morning?”
“Of course we would notice the very obvious blood on your shirt! And no, it can’t wait until the morning.” Snake, always the mother hen medic of the group, insisted, before getting up to rummage in a cupboard by the door.
“Here we are. Alex, shirt off, you need stitches.” Snake turned around with a small medical kit in hand, before frowning at the teen.
But the teen, so drained from his mission, was already asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.
“Looks like the stitches are going to have to wait Snake.” Eagle grinned at the scrunched up face of the soldier, who was visibly annoyed to leave Alex’s wounds unattended.