Jason Steed: Face-Off Read online

  Jason looked horrified. “That was private and just stupid dancing to pop music with my friends. I can’t do ballet.”

  Jason arrived at the gymnasium the following morning just before five. He told Connor he had to have some special training for a mission. Conner knew too well that Jason wouldn’t be permitted to mention the mission details so he never asked, much to the relief of Jason who knew Connor would roll around laughing if he knew Jason had to do ballet.

  The first thing Jason noticed as he strolled into the gym was the strong scent of cologne. Armand Blair was wearing a purple tracksuit with a double pink line running down both the arms and legs. The tracksuit was far too small for Armand’s medium frame, his hair, normally in a ponytail, was wet and hung loose to let it dry.

  With a forlorn sigh, he tried to smile at Jason as he pulled a chair to the center of the gym. Armand eyed Jason up and down.

  “What are you wearing?” Armand asked in disgust.

  Jason looked at himself and smiled back at Armand. “They call these shorts and this is a T-shirt. I brought my trainers. I wasn’t sure if I needed them or would be barefoot?” Jason said smugly.

  Armand’s face turned bright red; his eyes looked like they were going to burst out of his head. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.

  “Very well. You wish to try me.” Armand placed a hand on his hip and pointed the other hand at Jason. “I read your file. It’s quite accurate. Abrasive, rude, and bad tempered, makes you a brat. And I suppose you think I’m a joke. Being Sir Armand Blair means nothing to you. Being one of the greatest ballerinas in the world is a joke to you maybe?”

  Armand took a deep breath and placed his feet together. Slowly he lifted himself up onto his toes. Jason noticed Armand was shaking; he wasn’t sure if it was because he had angered him with his remarks or Armand was straining. Armand lifted one leg out straight in front of himself and kept raising it until it was straight up in the air, his knee touching his ear. Slowly Armand raised both arms above his head to form a heart shape and held the position.

  Jason wouldn’t admit it but he was impressed.

  “I’m sixty-five Jason, and can still perform En Pointe. I don’t expect you to be able to get it in three weeks, but I do expect respect. I want you to show me the same respect you would show your martial arts instructor,” Armand said, he lowered his leg down and stood flat on the ground again.

  “Um. You asked what I was wearing sir?” Jason said.

  “I was being sarcastic,” Armand said. “And I guess you were too.” Armand smiled at Jason. “Fair enough. Let’s start again. One will get you the correct attire for tomorrow but for now let’s begin.”

  Jason nodded in agreement. For the next two hours he balanced on his toes until he could stand the pain no more. He had to stand in various positions with his heels together and feet facing away from each other bending his knees doing what Jason called squats, but Armand called Demi-Plie. But the hardest thing was the splits. Jason was able to do it; years of martial arts meant he could kick high and was flexible, but in ballet it went further and longer.

  Jason’s hamstrings begged for mercy as he stretched and tried to follow Armand’s instructions. Jason told himself it might help his karate so he pushed himself harder. Armand appreciated the effort he was putting in. Slowly the two of them worked better together.

  The following morning Armand passed Jason his new clothing. He was given canvas ballet shoes, tights and what Armand called a ballet belt. Jason thought it was just very tight underwear, like a box worn for baseball, but it seemed to cover everything he wanted covered. Jason was relived they were white and not pink; he tried them on and looked at himself in the mirror. As long as Connor didn’t see him he would be okay.

  For two weeks, Jason and Armand worked out in the mornings. It was obvious Jason wouldn’t be good enough to go on stage with the rest of the ballet members and compete. But with the basic moves he could go with the rest of the ballet school as a substitute. He wouldn’t be needed and as long as he could practice at the ballet barre and perform moves such as the Demi-Plie he would be un-noticed. The Ballet Barre was a wooden stationary handrail that provided support while performing various types of ballet exercises.

  On Friday Jason was doing his best to stand on one leg on his toes. Armand was impressed with his progress, although Jason was a long way off from being a candidate for the Royal Ballet School yet he had put his heart into it and worked at it as hard as he could.

  Armand held Jason’s left leg by his ankle and forced it higher. “Keep your toes pointed Jason and look at your arm. Imagine you are an arc, your head and fingers all pointing in the same direction.”

  The same routine continued and Jason improved until he heard a roar of laughter coming from outside the door of the gym. Immediately Jason recognized Connor’s laugh and he colored.

  Connor strolled into the gym holding his stomach and laughing at Jason. “Blimey mate you look like a right Wombat in that outfit. I never thought I would live to see you in tights.” Connor laughed. “If I die now I will go to my grave happy knowing I saw the great secret agent, Jason Steed in tights with all his junk showing through.”

  Jason paced towards Connor, his face bright red. “I can arrange for you to go to your grave now if you want,” Jason cursed.

  Connor was still laughing until Jason spun on his right foot; his left leg catapulted from his body hitting Connor flat on his chest, knocking him back several feet across the gym on the floor and his back. Connor quickly sprung back onto his feet and stood to face Jason.

  Connor paused; he had once seen Jason lose his temper before and he almost killed a man. Jason had told him about his temper and how he couldn’t control it. Immediately Connor came to his senses. Jason’s pupils dilated and turned almost black in anger. “Okay Jason. I’ll leave you alone with your friend.” Connor paused and started to walk away and continued. “Besides I don’t wish to judge you, live and let live that’s my motto, what ever turns you on mate.”

  Jason strode forward again. Connor turned and faced him and had a huge grin on his face. “Hit me again if you want I was only joking. I thought we were mates?” Connor smiled with his arms out stretched palms facing forward in submission.

  Jason nodded and sighed. “Sorry. I guess I do look weird and to be honest I was dreading this. I knew if you could see me doing ballet you would laugh,” Jason gave a tight-lipped smile and looked down at himself. “You can’t see my junk. I’m wearing what they call a ballet belt to hide it. Extra large of course.”

  “I can see why they named that ballet the Nutcracker. It’s gotta hurt having ‘em crushed in something that tight.” Connor laughed and as always his laugh was contagious.

  Armand coughed. “When you two have finished, can we carry on Jason?”

  Jason nodded and smiled back at Connor. “I got to go; it’s to do with my next mission but keep that to yourself; now get lost or I really will hit you.”

  Jason returned to the barre and continued with his ballet practice.

  “And who was that?” Armand asked. “He’s well built for a boy his age, much bigger than you and yet you kicked him clean off his feet. It seems Infinity chose you for a good reason.”

  “That’s just Connor, he’s my roommate and best friend here,” Jason said straining as he raised his leg over his head.

  Connor never mentioned it again but every now and again if he was walking across the room when Jason was watching he would skip on his toes and wave his arms as if he was doing ballet. Of course it was just to provoke Jason.

  Arrangements were made to fly to London to join the Royal Ballet School. Jason explained to Quentin that he would find it difficult being just a few minutes from his father and home and having to pretend he was still in Istanbul.

  Infinity operatives had exhausted every lead trying to find out who had hired the assassin to kill Jason. They had suspected members of the IRA, Tri
ads and even a few gun dealers. Everything came up blank; they had several agents working on it in different countries.

  The day before Jason was to leave to fly back to London he received an urgent call from his best friend Scott Turner. Scott was first put on hold and eventually spoke to Quentin’s secretary.

  “Did you say your name was Scott Turner?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Scott replied.

  “Jason Steed is in class. It’s not normal for our pupils to receive phone calls during the day. Are you sure it’s urgent?” She asked.

  “Yes. It’s very urgent. You could say life and death urgent.”

  “I’m sorry but it’s not possible young man. I can take a message and ask him to call you back.”

  “Then can I speak to Mr. Roosevelt?” Scott asked before taking a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if he should have used the name or not but was sure that would make her let him speak to Jason.

  After a brief silence she came back on the phone. “I see. Please hold. I will put you through.”

  Jason was in math class. His teacher picked up the phone, took a message and walked towards Jason. He told Jason to report immediately to Quentin’s office.

  He ran down the corridor to the end room, checked it was clear and no normal school students were watching and went in. The storage closet in the back of the class was an entrance to the tunnel that went below the school.

  As he rounded the corner towards Quentin’s office he noticed the door was open. Quentin Roosevelt was seated behind his desk. His secretary Miss Brown was standing next to his desk.

  “Jason, close the door behind you.” Miss Brown suggested.

  Jason closed it wand walked towards the, desk not knowing what to expect.

  “Apparently your friend Mr. Scott Turner wishes to talk to you. When he was told you were in class he then asked to speak to a Mr. Roosevelt. Just how much did you tell him?” Quentin shouted.

  “Um. I told you sir that I told Scott about Infinity. He can be trusted,” Jason gulped.

  “How much?” Quentin roared so loud he started to cough, so he took a drink of water.

  “A few things and he probably put the rest together; He’s smart.” Jason said.

  “Well let’s see what he has to say. I will put him on speaker phone.” Quentin said.

  Miss brown pushed a green button on his desk phone.

  “Hello,” Scott said.

  “Hi Scott. I’m here,” Jason said trying to hide his grin.

  “Hi mate. It’s not easy getting a hold of you. Who was that woman I was speaking to?” Scott asked.

  “That would be Miss Brown. Scott what is so urgent? I was in math class.” Jason asked.

  “She sounded like a right battle axe. Gave me the third degree to get through to you. I bet she’s some old...” Scott said before Jason interrupted.

  “Scott,” Jason said abruptly. “You are on speaker phone and Miss Brown is here with Mr. Roosevelt. This had better be good or I’m in a heap of trouble.”

  Scott paused. “Oh. Um. Hi Miss Brown, I was just saying, um. Well I guess the cat’s out of the bag now and hello Mr. Roosevelt sir.” Scott paused again to compose himself. “Anyway. The assassin. Did your guys down at Infinity work out who it was?”

  Jason gulped as he watched Quentin turn a darker shade of red when Scott mentioned Infinity. “No Scott we have no idea.” Jason said meekly.

  “As I expected. Infinity is no better than SYUI or MI6. Anyway I have and it’s not good news.” Scott said.

  “Well spit it out damn it,” Quentin shouted.

  “Oh, you really are there, nice to hear you sir. A few weeks ago a lion killed a night security guard at a zoo in Berlin. The local police believe he was selling large cats to a private collector. One cat was taken however.”

  “What on earth does this have to do with Jason?” Miss Brown huffed.

  Jason held up the palm of his hand to Miss Brown. “Let him finish; this is just how Scott is.” Jason said before speaking into the speaker. “Carry on Scott.”

  “Well as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Scott continued. Jason couldn’t hold back his grin much to the annoyance of Quentin and Miss Brown.

  “One big cat was taken. No one gave the story a second thought except me. You see I don’t think they wanted the lion. I think they wanted the cat they took and the zoo security guard stumbled on them so they killed him and threw him in the lion enclosure. I looked at the other cat that was taken. Jason you’ll never guess what type of cat it was?”

  Jason shrugged. “Tiger?”

  “No it was a male Panthera Pardus, commonly known as a leopard.” Scott said, and a chill ran down Jason’s spine.

  “It seems the zoo has had it for just over a year now. It was once a pet and privately owned. Poor thing has a scar in his neck after some boy stabbed it.”

  “Luke.” Jason said softly sitting down in a chair. The color had drained from his face.

  “Yep. The very same,” Scott said.

  “But she’s dead,” Jason clarified.

  “Who’s dead?” Quentin asked.

  “Boudicea,” Jason and Scott said in harmony.

  “It can’t be her; she fell off the building and it was over a hundred feet up.” Jason insisted.

  “Jase mate. They never found the body and you said yourself, there was twenty foot of snow at the time. What if the snow broke her fall and she lived? Who else would want that leopard?”

  “Are you boys talking about the Boudicea, who was the head of the Triads? She is dead or so we thought and I’m guessing that it was you who stabbed the leopard Jason?” Quentin asked.

  “It was gonna eat me. She told it to attack me; lucky I had a knife or I would have been brunch.” Jason protested. “I wounded it. I was glad it didn’t die. I like animals.”

  “Okay we will investigate. Good work Scott that is a good lead. Our leads had turned up nothing, maybe we will be meeting after all. You seem rather useful just as Jason here says you are.” Quentin said.

  “I don’t do missions. I stay in the office out of harm’s way. Jason does that dangerous stuff,” Scott noted.

  “I said just talk no promises yet,” Quentin said as he nodded at Miss Brown who hung up the phone.

  Jason frowned at them both. “Well that was rude; we didn’t even say goodbye.”

  Chapter Seven

  On the day of Jason’s departure Connor ran to meet him. He had a continuous smile on his face that was so obvious that it started to annoy Jason.

  “Okay I give up. What are you grinning at? Are you happy to see me go? Or is it because I have to do ballet?” Jason asked Connor.

  Connor walked towards Jason and placed both his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “I can’t say; you know how it is.” Connor couldn’t hold back his grin he turned and tried to look away.

  “You got a mission?” Jason gasped. “That’s awesome. Where and what are you doing?”

  Connor’s large brown eyes lit up. Although only fourteen he was built like a professional rugby player and was probably twice the weight of Jason. At heart Connor was still a kid. “I can’t say.” He nodded yes.

  Jason smiled back; both boys high fived each other before Jason stopped and suddenly looked serious. “Be careful mate. I won’t be there to help out, so make sure you stay safe.”

  Connor flexed his arms in a muscle pose. “I can look after myself but thanks and you be careful doing your ballet.” Connor’s pose quickly changed, he placed one hand on his hip the other hand held at shoulder height, but with a limp wrist.

  Jason caught Connor’s finger and bent it back until Connor screamed for mercy.

  Connor wouldn’t admit it, but he missed Jason once he left and was actually very nervous going on a mission. He had only been on one and that was with Jason who covered up a mistake Connor made and saved him after he had been captured. He was now on a new mission of his own and had a lot
to prove, mostly to himself.

  The flight from Istanbul to London’s Heathrow airport seemed to take forever. Jason travelled with Armand who was reading fashion magazines. Jason was forced to read ballet dancers monthly. Armand had told him he needed to be up to date with who was who in the ballet world.

  The only interesting part for Jason was the exercising; everything bored him but for the sake of the mission he sat reading it.

  The Royal Ballet academy was nothing like Jason had expected. The century old building looked like any other large building in the city fighting for space among the ever- increasing traffic. It was cold and felt damp. Thousands of feet walking through the hallways over the years on the wooden floors had removed its polish.

  The students aged twelve to fifteen stayed in a large house next to the academy. Jason was to share a room with two boys; he carried his bag up to his room and knocked on the door before entering.

  “Hello,” replied a voice from behind the door.

  Slowly Jason opened it and peered inside.

  “Hi I’m Jason. I was told I was staying in here,” Jason smiled.

  Two boys were lying on the floor together reading the same comic. They looked Jason up and down and smiled at him. They didn’t look like what Jason was expecting, but then again he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. They both wore jeans; one had red hair cropped short and was covered in freckles, the other boy had black hair greased back over his head. Neither boy had a shirt on, and both were athletic looking.

  Both boys climbed to their feet and continued to look Jason up and down. Jason guessed they were about fourteen maybe fifteen and both stood taller than himself.

  “Hi, I’m Jonas,” said the red-haired boy. “This is Rupert.”

  Jason shook both boys’ hands and looked at the beds. There was a set of bunk beds and another bed in the corner. A pile of clothing was thrown on top of the top bunk.

  “What rotten luck. We will need a new place to store our clothes now,” Rupert said. “The drawers here are absolutely ghastly, full of bugs and stink to high heaven of mold.”

  “We heard that Armand had found a new student to join us. I thought he was just saying it to make us work harder,” Jonas said. Jason picked up that Jonas spoke with a slight northern accent, while Rupert was well spoken and had a posh twang to his voice. He reminded him of the way Armand carried himself.