This man, Foxx, isn't technically a member of the Foundation. From the debriefing you had on him, you know he's not really human anymore, either. He was a Hunter for Marshall, Carter, and Dark. From what you could extrapolate, he is, or was, a professional assassin.

Still, you're trying to keep an open mind. Not everyone is like… No, there's no point thinking about that. This isn't Omega-7. It's not going to be Omega-7. Cain's the one you'll be hanging around. He'll be the soul of Alpha-9. Not… the other one.

And if this Foxx was an assassin, a professional murderer… well, so were you, ten years ago. When you ran.

Unfortunately, meeting Aleksander Foxx doesn't do anything to allay your fears. He's dressed incredibly nicely. Silk dress pants. Wool dress coat. A tie that even you can tell is horribly expensive.

He's all smiles when he talks to you. Like he's being friendly. A few snide comments about Alpha-9 in specific and the Foundation in general. No such comments about you, though. You don't understand most of what he's talking about — and you don't really know why he's trying to perform coin tricks — but he's unfailingly polite.

But the way he looks at you chills you to your bones. You know that look. That indifference. That cold, casual calculation. The look of someone who knew exactly how to kill you within seconds of meeting you, and would paint the room with your entrails in an instant if he was given any reason.

This man is a monster. A monster with no leash, at least no leash you can see.

You've been here before. You can only hope that this time the Foundation knows what it's doing. That they have something better than an explosive collar this time.

Or that you'll be able to kill this one before he can do what Able did.

In the meantime, you force a smile and try not to show what you're thinking, while he prattles on about some Canadian television show he's apparently rather fond of. It's a relief when it's over, but you don't regret the meeting. Better to know now than to be surprised later.

You are no longer Iris Thompson.

You are now Aleksander Foxx.

"You wanna know my secret?" you say to the Alpha-9 interviewer whose name you've already forgotten. "Here it is. I know kids like that. I know how they work. My daughter, she'll be a teenager soon enough."

She's not a teenager, the interviewer says, Iris Thompson is twenty-four, going on twenty-five.

"Really? Fooled me. Well, she's been here most her life, right?"

Since she was thirteen, the interviewer says. So almost half her life, yes. This is in the dossier we gave you.

"I didn't read that file, but that explains a lot. She's just a big kid. Same principles apply, though. Kids just wanna see that you're willing to operate on their level. But not be afraid to be a little bit of a father figure, too, you know?"

The interviewer looks skeptical.

"Anyway, I think it went pretty well. She seemed pretty shy, but that's just how kids are when you first meet them. Things will only look up from here."

She gives you an 'if-you-say-so' look. These Foundation types, man. No faith.

You are no longer Aleksander Foxx.

You are now Alto Clef.

You have a glass of whiskey in one hand, and a good cigar in the other. For the next ten minutes, you are on break. The sign on your office door lets everyone know that no one is to disturb you unless the on-site nuke is about to blow. The shotgun resting on your desk will reinforce the point should anyone be so stupid to disregard the sign.

Nobody has disregarded the sign in fifteen years. Word gets around.

Then you hear the laughing. Three different voices, laughing loudly, from the outer office.

Immediately, your brow furrows. It's not that you really care that your subordinates seem to be having a good time, but it doesn't do your reputation any good if they think you're soft on them. Subordinates should be giggling under their voices, afraid of being overheard by the boss, not laughing out loud like hyenas.

You take a deep breath, put on your best Annoyed Boss face, and burst open the door.

Bridge and Lurk are circled around Adams, and all three are laughing uproariously at whatever is on the screen.

"What's funny?" You practically snarl it.

Adams snorts. "His fucking search history, that's what."

"Whose fucking search history?"

"Just come over and look!"

So you do. You push Bridge out of the way for dramatic effect.

INTELLIGENCE FILE

USER: Foxx, Aleksander

PART ONE OF SIXTEEEN BROWSER HISTORY antique gun auctions

old guns

seqouia revolver

segoiua revolver

pharmacyes nearby

sleep medications

ptsd

dixie dots

what the fuck is dixie dots

my daughter wants dixie dots

where can I buy dixie dots

is it a toy or something

how to avoid family

I don't want to talk to my grandmother

is it legally acceptable to shoot your grandmother

is it legally acceptable to shoot your grandmother if she is a bear

am i too old to get emancipated from my grandmother

hiding from abusive grandmothers

proximity of local zoos

how fast can a bear run

bears

local cinemas

alfred hitchcock

I didnt get citizen kane

citizen kane explained

working with a teenage girl

a teenage girl is my boss

how to be cool

what do teenagers like

teenagers

whats hip right now

cool music

what are the kids listening to

do teenagers like guns

slang words

photography

35mm photography

20mm film

why is cameras hard

used film cameras

polaroid

polaroids

is it still acceptable to do the running man

how to do the worm youtube

magic tricks youtube

where can I biy cards

playing cards

bicyclle company

bicycle cards company

coin tircks

coin tricks

how to be the cool uncle

relax

how to relax

relax you got this

You are no longer Alto Clef.