Hello, this is my story for this years Christmas fic exchange. The story is not done actually but I'm planning for it to be just three chapters long. I'm doing my best to finish everything before Christmas so if everything goes as planned, you'll see the ending by Christmas.

The prompt is:

"Alex's thoughts on being a hero - who his heroes are and/or what he thinks it means and/or if he considers himself one (choose one, two, or all three to consider)"

To the person who requested this, I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Being a journalist was Mike Howell's lifetime dream.

Even back when he was a kid, he had already dreamt of working in media. From a young age, he knew that media was not always transparent. High profile people paid the media to warp stories or not to publish certain ones that might destroy their reputation. As long as someone had money or power, they could pay the media to publish anything as well. He had read enough coffee table books on conspiracy theories and controversies as a kid to know just that.

He wanted to be the one to change media. The public deserve to know the truth. We're the ones paying taxes, sustaining their lives. We have the right to know what's happening in our country.

He grew up a lot more outspoken about politics and society than most teenagers and of course, being that one kid who asked too many questions and clarified too many facts to be remembered as a pain by many teachers and a tad odd by his fellow classmates. Having written very good and well informed essays for someone his age though, he was able to rise up the ranks of secondary school and sixth form fast and end up in a high profile university with a good journalism course.

A few years later, he was accepted as a writer for the London Herald and his goal was starting to become more concrete. Rise up the ranks of the newspaper company, become editor and chief and manage a newspaper company that will promote transparency for the industry.

That morning, he was too receive his first assignment.

"For now, we'll assign you the One Belt One Road Feature Article. The data is all here in this envelope. You should have it done by tomorrow."

So much for a first ever official news article. Mike couldn't lie, he had expected something better than writing a feature article on a Chinese infrastructure project that the United Kingdom had no interest of even investing in.

"We don't usually assign headlines or delicate situations to the newer journalists. Besides, you wouldn't enjoy being sent to a hostage situation believe me."

Mike looked up to see that his manager was giving him a comforting smile. He returned the smile, quickly shifting from what must have been a look of disappointment. "Did I look like I was disappointed about that? I was thinking of other things." Mike gave his superior a thumbs up and a big smile. "I'll start working on this now."

As he walked back to the desk, he thought of the real reason he was disappointed. He knew from the start that he wouldn't be writing a terrorist article on his first day. Which boss in their right mind would send a rookie to a life threatening situation?

He had expected to be assigned a story that people would actually take the time to read though.

How was he going to implement transparency if no one was going to read what he was writing in the first place?

Transparency

"Let's do something tomorrow"

Mike looked up from statistics he was analyzing on his laptop to see his cousin, sitting on the sofa in front of former had spent the last two hours since he got home, reading up on the Belt and Road Initiative online. The data they had given him to interpret was impossible for him to study since he knew nothing about the plan beyond what one would consider basic knowledge.

"I don't think I'll have time. I have an article to finish by tomorrow."

"But you just started the job."

"Yeah, but I'm going to need the paycheck if I'm gonna stop mooching off of your parents."

"It's nice though having someone around who can help me with Social Studies homework. That reminds me…"

Mike had already turned his attention back to his laptop, ignoring the footsteps of his cousin. A few minutes later, his cousin was back with a pile of readings.

"That Brookland School you go to is one slavedriver. Schools weren't like this back in Essex."

"This is London, not the countryside. Of course we'll have it harder."

Mike stuck out his tongue at his cousin. "You demean the countryside one more time and I'm not going to even look at your readings."

"Come on, I know you're a better cousin than that…"

It happened in less than a second. His cousin had dropped his readings right on Mike's keyboard. The latter swore he heard a crack, he felt the sides of his laptop only to pull out a broken CD drive, a moment later.

"James fucking Hale, you're paying for this laptop."

Transparency

In the end, Mike's resolve to finish the Belt and Road Initiative paper won over his cousin's pleas and Mike found himself in Canary Wharf, the financial district of London. Some banks had open libraries in their buildings and those banks would definitely have sources on the BIR.

He had picked one of the lesser known banks along Canary Wharf. Most others like JP Morgan and Stanley's had too much of a name for security not to be anal about his entering for research.

It was a small bank a little to the edge of Canary Wharf, it could have been considered a part of another border but the small map outside mentioned a small library in the fifth floor.

Security was not very tight. All he had to do was drop his company ID on the visitor's counter and he had full access to sources relating to finance and economics in the past year. When he arrived on the fifth floor through the elevator and saw the adequate collection, he couldn't help but grin and silently thank security for not being too strict.

Transparency

For any company, security was supposed to be tight. That company had made a grave mistake with letting just anyone in. Only a few minutes after Mike arrived on the fifth floor and started his research, a young man went in after him, a heavy backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked to be about twenty, he sat on the benches in front of the counters. There were around fifteen customers all in all, a few old men, a few housewives, a few college aged students. one mother with her young daughter, and only three counters so the sight of the young man on the benches was not out of the ordinary.

What caught people's attention was someone who entered a few minutes after the man with the backpack. He was a blond boy who looked to be about fifteen. What was more strange was the fact that he was streaked with mud and was wearing a soccer jersey and shorts and cleats as if he had just played a game of soccer.

Why would anyone go to the bank dirty and in a soccer jersey?

What was a fifteen year old boy doing in a bank like this? No one takes finance or economics until sixth form… so he shouldn't be here for research. Maybe he wants to open an account?

The moment all eyes were on the blond teenager who entered the small bank was a chance for the man with the backpack. He only needed a second to pull out his gun. Eyes were on him less than a second after he pulled it out but by then, the gun was trained at anyone who would try to go near him.

"Bar all the doors, this is a hold up."

I'm sure you're wondering how this is related to the prompt. You may have hints with the first chapter already. The prompt will be filled more explicitly in the later chapters. This fic is unbeta-ed so any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Do review and tell me what you think!