A Sickle In A Haystack

Chapter 13

The flight to Paris had been relatively fine, despite Sam hating air travel. They touched down at the airport at 10am, and proceeded to the Hotel Du Roys by 11. They were rushed through with fake names of Alistair and Seth, and then led up to their rooms by one of the receptionists, a man in his early thirties with a thick accent. Sam sighed as Alex spoke fluent French to the receptionist, not understanding a single word, so he stayed a step behind to take a quiet glance at the place they would be staying in. The place was very grandeur, the hotel a rich business man might book if he had a conference, he supposed that they were almost here for the exact same reason...sort of.

"Seth, hurry up!" Alex called. Sam snapped from his gazing and hurried upto Alex and the cleaner, he'd dawdled behind.

"Here is your room, and here are your cards, if you need anything, ring the bell." He glanced at the boys before walking off.

"Rien ne vaut un bon chez soi." Alex murmured, walking inside their room and dumping his suitcase by the wall.

"Alex, I mean Alistair, I don't speak French, please, stop it." Sam murmured as he unpacked his clothes from his own suitcase.

"I was only teasing, Seth, chill out. It means nothing is worth more than one's home." He said, watching as Sam unpacked his clothes...looking for something else he could possibly use as evidence. Sam felt his presence and looked back.

"Are you alright, you're just staring at me."

Alex looked away, folding his arms. "Yeah, yeah, just making sure you're, you know, unpacking your clothes right."

Sam frowned. "Mm...sure."

Sam finished and deposited them in his drawers, he'd sort everything else out later. He limped over to the window and stared. The Eiffel Tower was off in the distance, greeted by traffic on the streets below.

"It's a nice place this, huh?" Sam asked, glancing around their room. White walls and old-fashioned furniture with a bed each for them...it was all very posh, too posh, reminded him of his own home.

"Yup, certainly is." Alex said, flopping on his bed and turning on the TV. Most of the channels were French, aside from one or two.

"Well, subtitles are needed I guess, Seth?" Alistair teased.

"Alright, alright, I can't speak French and you can, I get it, jeez."

"No it's not that, it's that you know German and Russian, but not French, I find it funny." Alex said, smiling a little.

Sam's face went white. "How do you know that..?" Sam asked cautiously.

Alex immediately regretted making such a comment. He shouldn't know that, but of course the documents he stole, meant he did.

"MI6 had a file on you. Not much! Just uh, the basics, like your name, date of birth and language skills." He said quickly, lying through his teeth.

Sam folded his arms, tilting his head.

"How?" he demanded.

Alex had really shot himself in the foot now, but he kept his composure, this certainly wasn't the first time he'd been caught out in a lie, at least it wasn't his name he was caught out on.

"Well...they had this information on you for a while, that's why they were so interested in us working together. To see just how good you were, of course you declined their so-called offers, so all they have now is a blank file with your name on it." Alex looked Sam directly in the eyes.
Sam looked at the floor and sighed, thinking for a moment. "If they get anything else on me, will you let me know?" Sam asked>

"Of course!" Alex nodded, giving a reassuring smile.
Sam stood up after a moment. "I'm going for a walk round the hotel...I need to think," he murmured, before leaving Alex alone.

His smile dropped, he knew it was all fake, he realised he'd possibly dug himself into an even bigger hole. How far was he willing to go to save a friend from prison, even if it meant losing that friend in the process?

With a reluctant sigh, Alex hopped off the bed and took his chance. He found Sam's diary which he scanned through, taking photos of anything important. He felt sick to his stomach, out of all the things MI6 had coerced him into this had to be the worst thing.

He felt he had enough now, accounts on the people Sam had met, and his first mission in stopping a technological weapons manufacturer developing self-driven AI weapons. This was amazing to Alex, just like his own first mission it was to take down a man heralding a new age in technology. After storing all the photos on his phone, he sat on the bed in limbo. If he sent this to MI6, they would know things about Sam that he probably wouldn't even tell Alex...If he didn't, MI6 might arrest Sam over charges of aiding a criminal, since his father was still at large, although he wasn't a known criminal. Sam's diaries could blow the whole story...and end up with himself and his father facing heavy prison sentences, if of course, MI6 had their way.

"Why am I doing this..?" Alex asked himself with a groan as he stared up at the ceiling, lying on the bed. Sam came back in eventually with an older man. He was in his forties, dark hair and grey, lifeless eyes, that made him look more akin to a fifty year old.

"Alistair, I found dad." Sam murmured.

"Oh, hey...dad." Alex murmured, sitting up on his bed as their 'dad' looked around unimpressed at the two.

"I was expecting people more...alert than two teenagers." The man grumbled. "Agent Foster."

Sam sat on his bed which was behind Alex's and mostly ignored the two. The man introduced himself as Agent Foster, and then complained at having to work with children. Both of them had heard it all before. Sam did his best to drown out the man's droning by reading, eventually he left for his own room and both boys sighed with collective relief.

"What an idiot." Sam murmured as he sat up, looking over at Alex who nodded in agreement. "The older, the wiser...and more annoying." The boys chuckled and decided to exit their rooms for lunch. Sam let Alex handle the orders while he got their table and sat down by a window. After a rather quick lunch they agreed to make the most of their visit and play tourist for the rest of the day, regardless of their father insisting they stay. They weren't in any danger here, no one knew they had even arrived in Paris. MI6 had given Alex an allowance while in France, and he made good use of it with Sam. Cheeses, books, stupid hats and shoes later and they came back with a bag full of touristy goodies that filled them with glee inside. They had spent a remarkable six hours out in town.

Sam had a nice new pair of shoes and Alex had a hat that made him look like one of the three musketeers.

"Why did we buy this stuff again?" Sam questioned, tilting his head as he flicked the feather on Alex's hat.

"Because we're tourists, and as tourists we have to act stupid and buy overpriced things." He said with a grin.

They laughed amongst themselves until a rather angry Agent Foster burst into the room.

"Where were you!?" He hissed.

"Easy dad. We were touring the city." Sam murmured as Foster glared down at him, making him shiver.

"Hmph, I told you not to go out longer than four hours."

"No you didn't." Alex replied simply, smiling inside as he caught the man at his own game.

Foster stormed off, and went back to his room. Sam felt unsettled, what if the only reason the agent was here was to spy on him. Whatever the case, he hoped the other agent would arrive soon, after all, the day after tomorrow was February the 30th...