Disclaimer: I dunno. I'm not sure if I own Alex or not...

The Cub

Three Years After the Events of "The Wolf"

Terence Reyes had perhaps been the best soldier he'd seen in years. Well, besides himself – a former Paras turned SAS soldier, but that was beside the point. The young man reminded him of himself. He was strong, determined, and had a great deal of perseverance.

There was one point in time where he had been close with Terence. They were close friends, along with his little nephew who wasn't quite so little anymore. He'd even got emotionally invested. He had recommended Terence to join the SAS as soon as he was eligible. Of course, he'd noticed his growing attachment and decided to move away directly after.

He could see him now. Terence, the boy who hadn't had enough money. He was in the muddy fields, doing press-ups along with the twenty-four other recruits that had passed the first test.

"Sir?"

Ian Rider cursed lightly in his head as he heard the voice behind him. He had been so focused on his former comrade that he had forgotten why he was there. He turned, "Yes?"

The SAS soldier behind him was standing to attention, his face hard, "The Sergeant is ready for you."

Ian nodded and dismissed the soldier, then proceeded to barge into the Sergeant's office. Needless to say, the man wasn't too happy, but when the Sergeant saw Ian's face, his lips curved into a grin.

"Wombat!"

Ian grinned back at the man, who reached over to slap his shoulder, "It's actually Agent Rider now, James."

James Morrison, otherwise known as Bird, had been under Ian's command as the former K-Unit's medic.

"Agent, eh?" James gestured for Ian to sit, "I knew it. You were always into that sort of shit, weren't you?"

Ian rolled his eyes, "You still harbor your grudge, I see."

James grinned sheepishly, "You can't tell me you like them. Especially after those bastards were personally responsible for Trout's death."

They sunk into an uncomfortable silence, recalling the days where they were still young. Ian's small smile had disappeared off his face as he remembered the ill-placed bomb that had blown Trout into red mist.

"So," James broke the thin sheet of ice, "how do you think our recruits are this year?"

Ian turned to the window, which gave a perfectly good view of the men outside, who had now moved on to situps, "That one, right there." He pointed at Terence.

James moved forward, looking intently, "Terence, isn't it? Yeah, he seems to be the most promising."

Ian nodded in agreement, "He's the most eager out of all of the recruits – and the most determined."

"How can you tell?"

Ian grinned at his friend, "Look at the way he pulls up just a little faster than all the others. He's clearly ready to prove himself. And the way he's biting the inside of his cheek. He's obviously feeling some pain, but he's fighting through it by directing his pain elsewhere."

James watched the young man for a moment, "Wow, your years at '6 really have done you some good."

Ian shrugged, wincing as one of his sore muscles gave a particularly sharp scream of pain, "And that man over there, with the red hair."

"Yeah?"

"Same thing," Ian nodded, "but he's not as strong as Reyes. He's lither and faster, like… say a snake. They'd make an excellent pair if they were in the same unit."

"What are you saying?" James asked, studying the two.

"Just watch," Ian said confidently, "They'll make it through."

James smirked, "Want to bet?"

Ian grinned childishly, "A ton if they make it through?"

"Make it two."

THE*CUB

"Come on," Ian was lounging in the chair across from a scowling James, "Cough it up, mate."

James' scowl deepened as he threw a wad of cash onto the table. Ian tucked the bills into his pocket.

"Anymore recommendations?" He asked Ian, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"Name him 'Wolf'," Ian put his legs on James' desk, "Reyes, I mean. And the other man I chose - 'Snake'. Don't let those two be in the same unit as – what did you want his name to be again – Moose?"

James nodded, dutifully jotting the words Ian spoke, "Any recommendations on where to put them?"

Ian let out a small puff of air that blew a little stray hair out of his face, "K-Unit," he decided, "Our old unit."

THE*CUB

10 Years Later

Sergeant Morrison hadn't been the same man ever since his faithful companion, Ian Rider, had passed away just three years previous. To be honest, it was expected. For Ian to have survived that long was quite remarkable

He still hated MI6 with a passion, especially after one of his best soldiers had been snatched up by them just a couple years ago. Fox, the soldier, visited every once in a while. To Sergeant Morrison, the soldier-turned-spy was now a friend.

Said friend had called to tell Morrison that he was going to drop by with his partner and would be staying for a couple weeks. Apparently, they had leave. It completely baffled Morrison why the two spies would want to spend time on base. Even he didn't enjoy it.

The Sergeant sighed drearily as he shuffled a few papers on his desk, staring at the chair directly before him. It was the same chair that Ian Rider had previously occupied many times before. He could envision his old unit leader, lounging about, playing with a knife or something.

The Sergeant smiled fondly at the memories. Apart from minimal safety precautions such as buckling up when driving, Ian was a reckless man with no self-preservation. Even in his days as a soldier, he would put himself at risk in order to save the rest of his teammates. It was what made him such a legend, both in the SAS and in MI6.

Speaking of legends...

Ian Rider had always talked about his legendary nephew with a certain gleam in his eyes. The Sergeant had always listened, never truly understanding what was so great about him, apart that he was "smart, athletic, determined" etcetera, etcetera.

How old was he anyway? Seven? Ten?

An odd thought struck the Sergeant. Who was Ian's nephew living with now? Ian had said that his parents were killed in a plane crash. Did he have anyone else?

The Sergeant reached for the phone, about to ring one of his contacts. Another thought brought his hand back down on the desk. He didn't know Ian's nephew's name! How could he? He had never asked because he simply didn't care.

A sharp knock on his office door sent him reeling backwards. After muttering a few strings of curses under his breath, he called, "Come in!"

The door swung open, revealing Fox. He looked the same as the last time the Sergeant had seen him, which was just a month or so ago.

"Fox," the Sergeant got up to greet his old soldier with a firm handshake.

"Morrison," Fox grinned at the Sergeant, "meet my partner – you already know him, don't you?"

Another man made his way into the door frame. He was tall, perhaps around six foot two. He had blonde hair, cut a bit short. A distinctive nose and lips that curved to conceal a smirk.

What the hell…?

"Ian?"

THE*CUB

Alex didn't really know what to expect when he finally returned to Brecon Beacons. On one hand, he hated the hell hole. There hadn't been a single happy moment there. On the other hand, the Sergeant – the same one he'd stolen matches from – had just asked him if he was his dead uncle. Intriguing.

"Sorry, sir," Alex settled on the calm, cool approach, "It's Cub."

"Stop screwing around, Ian," the Sergeant's face was slowly turning red, "I know that's you! You can't possibly expect me to fall for the same trick twice."

"Trick?" It was Ben this time, looking as confused as Alex felt, "James, it's not a trick."

"No!" The Sergeant sunk down in his comfy chair, "The first time was for a mission. This second time is just plain cruel."

"Sir?" Alex was pulled over by Ben. They stood in front of the Sergeant's desk.

"This isn't Ian, James," Ben was staring at the Sergeant intently.

The Sergeant ignored him, scrutinizing Alex. With a weak and defeated voice, he asked, "Wombat?"

Alex nearly chuckled at the name. Weren't the codenames supposed to be all macho and tough?

"No, sir," he smirked, just a tiny bit, "Alex Rider – codenamed Cub."

The Sergeant sat, looking stunned, "Alex… Rider?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed, sitting down in the seat directly across the Sergeant. Ben made himself comfortable next to him.

"Any relation to Ian Rider?"

Alex's eyebrows shot up, "Yeah, he was my uncle."

"You've been there this whole time," the Sergeant spoke, mainly to himself. To be honest, Alex thought that he might have gone looney.

"Pardon me?"

The Sergeant looked up, grinning. He looked a little scary, "Fox, go ahead and get K-Unit, would you? I need to talk to Cub for a moment."

Ben stood and patted Alex's shoulder, as if to say, 'good luck, mate', and trotted off.

A pregnant pause.

"I knew your uncle very well," the Sergeant sat forward, placing his elbows on his desk, "We were the best of friends."

Alex looked dejectedly at his palms, "I never really knew him. Everything he told me was a lie."

An unreadable expression crossed the Sergeant's face. He leaned backwards, lifting his legs so that they could rest on the desk, and closed his eyes. Just as Alex thought that the man had fallen asleep, he began speaking slowly, recalling a time that Alex had never known.

"He joined the Parachute Regiment when he was twenty-two, right after he finished university at Cambridge," a pause, "I joined that time too, only I was never as smart as Ian. I never attended Cambridge. Three years as a Para, we decided to try getting into the SAS. The first try, he got in. Got his codename: Wombat."

Alex snorted.

"I didn't try again until two years later, when I got in. Ian had already climbed his way to the top of the ranks and was in command of K-Unit," the Sergeant sighed, "He was favored by the former Sergeant – that man was such a bastard. He somehow convinced him to let him choose new unit-mates. I was chosen as the unit medic, Trout was chosen as communications, and Mouse was chosen as the sharpshooter."

Alex wondered where his story was going, but any information about his deceased uncle was welcomed.

"D'you know why K-Unit is always the best unit? Not A or B or C? Well, it started with him. He was even worse than the Drill Sergeant. Constantly whipping us into formation, forcing us to study our subjects, making us do extra team exercises… It made K-Unit into the best unit out there. We got ninety-five percent success on our missions."

Alex could tell a nostalgic look when he saw one.

"But in 1983, we were deployed to Iraq with a couple of MI6 agents. Trout was blown up, Ian resigned, and K-Unit was disbanded. Well, until Wolf came along with Snake," the Sergeant grinned to himself again, "Ian gave Wolf and Snake their names. Specifically Wolf."

"Really?" Alex's attention had been snatched away by the Sergeant.

"It turns out that Ian knew Wolf personally. Wolf, when he was seventeen, lived on the same street as Ian and his four year old nephew. He was short on money, so he got a job from Ian as a babysitter."

Alex froze. He knew he wasn't going to remember much from that age, but four is when memories begin to develop. Alex remembered little flashes. The smell of smoke. His favorite activities. A teenager chasing him around, "Holy..."

The Sergeant surprised Alex by laughing, "Ian said that he was the first person that his nephew got along with. Little Alex Rider had nicknamed his babysitter 'Wolfy' and in turn, 'Wolfy' had named Alex 'his spoiled little brat'."

"What?"

"Ian insisted that I call Terence 'Wolf', and so I did," the Sergeant laughed again, opening his eyes, "and you've been reunited all this time! You heard all of that, right?"

Alex looked at him, confused, but the Sergeant's eyes had shifted to the doorway. He turned quickly, in time to catch a sheepish looking Fox, a surprised Wolf, and three other mischievous K-Unit members.

He made eye contact with the stocky, muscular man in the lead.

"'Lex…?" Wolf was obviously flabbergasted.

Eagle took the moment to barge in, "Awww…Look! It's the Wolf and his Cub!"

Both Wolf and Alex turned to give the other man an identical death glare.

"Damn, I see the resemblance," Ben was grinning, "C'mon Mummy Wolf. Baby Cubby. Let's get you reacquainted."

A/N: Yes? No? Maybe so? I don't know about this, but I guess I'm submitting it for SpyFest Week Three...

Anyway, I was bored the other day (yesterday), and I made a LiveJournal account/blog/idk. That's apparently where I'm going to put excerpts of works that are still unpublished. I guess it's basically a place where I can post things to make up for long periods of time where I don't post any chapters/stories/one-shots. I did post an excerpt of this earlier... but it turns out that I finished this today. WHOOP

How would you like it if I wrote a chapter story regarding Alex dead (faking a death) and a (suspiciously) new SAS soldier? After Operation Zeta of course!

OKAY. So check that out, the link is on my profile. Go vote. Again, profile or forum. And SUBSCRIBE! Wait. Hold on. That's YouTube. I've been obsessed with ThatcherJoe lately.

-A xxx