CHERUB: Shadow Wave (20 page)

‘I guess,’ James admitted. ‘But nobody ever grassed me. None of the staff know, even now. Anyway, what should I be typing here?’

Kyle looked at the laptop screen and shrugged. ‘Try
Wright, Newman, Feather.’

YouTube found the CNN clip and James watched Aizat throwing paint and feathers over Tan Abdullah, followed by his take-down by the cops. The video had been viewed more than a quarter of a million times and there were pages of comments typed beneath:

Free Aizat and Abdul

FAizat rocks!

Good feathering. Tan Abdullah is a dick.

Visit the Guilt Trips website and sign online petition TODAY

But not all the comments were in Aizat’s favour.

Tan brought jobs and money to Langkawi and his son continues the legacy. The island had NOTHING before he came!

Aizat is a whiny knob and should be hung

These boys are so gay. Would have done better with a Glock 9!!!!!

‘So what happened after Helena was deported and Aizat got busted?’ James asked.

‘Even with the press attention, Aizat was still in deep shit,’ Kyle explained. ‘But he got a lawyer, and he agreed to plead guilty to the paint and feathers deal. The police dropped terrorist allegations. In return Aizat’s lawyer didn’t lodge any official complaints about being tortured. He got five years in prison. Abdul and the other men got three years and Noor and the other woman eighteen months suspended.’

‘So they must all be out except for Aizat?’

‘Yeah,’ Kyle agreed. ‘And Aizat’s due out soon.’

‘What about Tan and the villagers?’

‘There was a bit of a scandal. Tan became National Tourism Minister and passed legislation protecting any remaining villages. That made him look good, but he’d already demolished every village on Langkawi island, so it was actually to his advantage because it stopped rival hotel operators developing the beachfront in other parts of Malaysia.’

‘Sly bastard,’ James said, shaking his head.

‘Now he’s been promoted to Defence Minister and it looks like your job is to play nice with his wife and kids while he buys lots of shiny new guns and tanks.’

‘And Helena?’

Kyle tapped Joe Wright-Newman’s face on the laptop screen. ‘Joe turned out to be a pretty stand-up guy. His people looked into the situation with the villages. He donated three hundred grand to Guilt Trips, so they could move into a decent office. He also helped them set up in America. He raises shitloads more through charity golf tournaments, and runs his own campaign on sustainable golf development.’

‘What’s that?’ James asked.

‘Every time you build a golf course, you have to clear a bunch of land, then you dump tons of fertiliser on it and have to use huge amounts of water to keep all that pretty grass growing. So Joe’s charity builds golf courses, but they do it on brown field land. Like, they built one on the site of an old coal mine and another on the site of a car factory. They only use rainwater on the greens, there has to be public transport and membership is open to underprivileged kids and stuff like that. Though they’d probably still draw the line at scum like you playing there.’

‘You’re a funny man,’ James said, before giving Kyle the finger.

‘Helena’s done really well. She’s in charge of Guilt Trips’ global operations, and they’ve gone from a tiny office over a shop in Camden Town to quite a big set-up. She also writes newspaper articles and lectures at universities and stuff. Oh, and Aizat slipped one past the goalkeeper: she’s got a three-year-old son, Aizat Jr, who’s also my godson.’

‘Godson,’ James spluttered, before he burst out laughing. ‘You’re such a sly one, Kyle. We’ve been mates for five years now, but you’ve still got all these secrets coming out. And you’ve got to admire Aizat: he’s smart, he impregnates hot older women
and
he supports Arsenal.’

‘James,’ Kerry moaned from the bathroom.

‘What?’ James asked as he popped his head around his bathroom door and laughed at Kerry, still lying in his bathtub with the shower running. ‘You’re all shrivelled up. You look like a raisin!’

Kerry was feeling sorry for herself and spoke in a whiny voice. ‘Don’t be mean. Can you get a towel and robe from my room?’

James pointed at his towel rack. ‘There’s towels up there.’

‘You never wash them,’ she complained. ‘The last time I showered in here I towelled off, looked in the mirror and found about twenty of your pubes stuck on my face.’

Kyle overheard this and started howling with laughter. ‘Don’t worry Kerry, I’ll go fetch them.’

Kerry’s room was only two doors down the hall and Kyle was still laughing when he came back and threw the stuff at James in the bathroom. ‘I got your furry slippers as well.’

‘Huggles!’ Kerry shouted back.

‘That’s great,’ James moaned, giving Kerry an arm up. ‘He gets huggles, I have to hoist your fat drunken arse out of the bathtub.’

‘I’m not fat,’ Kerry moaned, as she giggled and slapped James on the back.

He tried making her stand up so that he could help her towel off, but she couldn’t even stand up straight, so he grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

‘Kyle, lift up my duvet.’

After ducking down so that Kerry’s head didn’t bang on the door frame, James stepped into his room and threw Kerry across his bed. Kyle threw James’ duvet back over Kerry and she burrowed under James’ pillows.

‘I feel so ill,’ she moaned. ‘I’m never drinking again.’

James grabbed the wastepaper basket from under his desk and stood it on his bedside table. ‘Don’t you dare puke on my sheets. If you throw up again, aim for that.’

Kerry didn’t respond, so James leaned across and studied her face.

‘Spark out,’ James told Kyle, and shook his head. ‘And I’m such a gentleman that I’m not even
slightly
tempted to take embarrassing pictures while she’s unconscious.’

Kyle fingered James’ mission briefing. ‘This is kind of awkward, but would you mind if I mentioned this to Helena? They probably know that Tan Abdullah is coming, but they won’t have the full itinerary like you’ve got here.’

‘Go ahead,’ James said. ‘I’m not doing a mission to protect this scumbag. I’ll tell Lauren about it and I’m sure she’ll drop out as well.’

‘It might be the last mission you’re offered,’ Kyle warned. ‘I wouldn’t hold doing the mission against you, as long as you let me copy his schedule down.’

James shook his head. ‘I know there are always going to be grey areas, but cherubs are supposed to be the good guys. I didn’t train my guts out to protect a shithead like Tan Abdullah. Hell, I’m almost tempted to come along with you and join the protest.’

Meryl Spencer’s recent promotion to chief handler meant she now had a full-time assistant and an office on the ground floor of the main building, two rooms along from the Chairwoman. It was Monday morning and James had a ten o’clock appointment.

‘You’re moving up in the world,’ James grinned, as he looked around the spacious office at a trendy plywood desk, chrome coffee pod machine and orange swivel chairs. ‘It certainly beats that pokey dive you had up on the sixth floor.’

Meryl smiled. ‘Even better, I can’t hear you lunatic kids running up and down the corridor and yelling between rooms when I’m trying to work.’

James moved to sit at the desk, but Meryl aimed her arm towards a sofa and coffee table, on which sat a mound of fat university prospectuses.

‘You only sit at the desk when you’re in trouble,’ she said. ‘Take a comfy seat. Would you like a tea or coffee?’

‘I’m fine,’ James said. Meryl grabbed a chunky ring binder with a label on the front marked
James Adams — Exit and Resettlement Plan.

‘With your Brigands mission running longer than expected, we’re quite behind on your leaving arrangements,’ Meryl began. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, but I called you in for this meeting today because we need to start making decisions about your future.’

‘Right,’ James agreed. ‘So if I wanted to start university this October it’s not too late to apply or anything?’

‘Some people - like Kyle for instance - are very organised. He knew he wanted to study law, he knew where he wanted to study it. So we amalgamated his qualifications and put in a standard university application.’

‘Amalgamated?’ James asked curiously.

‘Sorry,’ Meryl said. ‘I thought you understood. Over the past few years, you’ve passed GCSEs and A-levels as and when you had the ability to pass them. Exam certificates were issued under the name James Adams. When you leave, you’ll take on a new identity. We’ll reissue your qualifications under your new name, and give them new dates so that it looks like you took all your exams in the same year, like a normal school kid would have done.’

‘Gotcha,’ James nodded. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance you can add a few extras to the list?’

‘You’re about the hundredth person to ask that,’ Meryl sighed. ‘And the answer’s no. We’d get no schoolwork out of anyone on campus if we just gave you a bunch of made-up qualifications when you left. And you don’t have to worry with that maths brain of yours. What A-levels have you got?’

‘B in Spanish and As in Russian, maths, physics, further maths and statistics.’

‘Five As and a B,’ Meryl smiled. ‘Imagine what you could have got if you’d actually applied yourself.’

James laughed. ‘What can I say. I’m a genius.’

Meryl grunted. ‘And if your head gets any bigger you won’t get out of the door. So the first question on my agenda: have you thought about your identity?’

James nodded. ‘I thought I’d go back to my mum’s name, Choke. And then I’ll switch my first two names around. So I’ll be Robert James Choke.’

‘Sounds reasonable,’ Meryl said, as she jotted it down. ‘The next question is regarding your father. Have you thought any more about whether you’d like to meet with him?’

‘That one’s been doing my head in a bit,’ James said, sounding stressed as he ran a hand through his hair. ‘I read the letter my dad sent to my old flat. He sounds like a nice guy. But—’

‘You don’t have to decide right now,’ Meryl interrupted. ‘But when we create your post-CHERUB identity we have to consider the fact that your father is alive, and take this into account if you want to make contact with him at any point in the future. If you’d like I can arrange for you to talk your feelings through with one of the counsellors.’

‘I think I’m OK,’ James said. ‘I’ve spoken to Lauren and Kerry about seeing my dad. I think at some point in my life I’ll want to delve into my past and go see him. Maybe that’s in a couple of years, or maybe it’s in twenty when my own kid asks about his granddad.

‘But leaving CHERUB is a really big deal and I’ve got to start this whole new life. I don’t think I want the extra complication of a dad I’ve never met, and a stepmum and a baby sister. And what if the guy starts trying to act like a dad, telling me what to do and stuff?’

Meryl smiled. ‘I see your point. I think you’re being really sensible, keeping your options open for the future, while not rushing in to anything.

‘The third thing we need to talk about is money. Your mother left quite a large estate. She owned your flat in Tufnell Park and rented out another that belonged to your grandmother. The mortgages on both were paid off by life insurance policies when she died. There were also large sums in bank accounts overseas, plus jewellery and cash in three safety deposit boxes.

‘Your mother’s money was invested in bonds and now stands at six hundred and eighty thousand pounds. Split equally with Lauren that will leave you with three hundred and forty thousand pounds each.’

‘Not bad,’ James grinned.

‘In addition, you’ll receive mission pay. That’s equivalent to the basic wage of the most junior employee of the intelligence service, from the time you passed basic training until your eighteenth birthday. It works out at eighteen thousand six hundred a year from January 2004 to October 2009.’

Meryl reached behind for a calculator. ‘Seventy months at one thousand five hundred and fifty a month.’

‘A hundred and eight thousand five hundred,’ James interrupted.

Meryl laughed. ‘I do like the way you can do that. So in total you’ll receive about four hundred and fifty thousand pounds.’

‘Great,’ James grinned. ‘I’ll buy a couple of Ferraris and blow the rest on birds and cocaine.’

Meryl cleared her throat. ‘The money is yours on your eighteenth birthday and there’s nothing I can do to stop you from buying Ferraris, but I
will
arrange for you to meet with a financial advisor. She can set your money up in an investment portfolio so that you get a decent income as you go through university. Then when you’re older you can use the money to buy a property, or start your own business.

‘If you’re sensible with this amount of money it will give you financial security for the rest of your life. Half a million pounds may sound like a lot, but once it’s gone you’ll have nothing to fall back on.’

James nodded seriously. ‘I might buy a motorbike, but that’s gonna be my only extravagance.’

‘Great,’ Meryl said. ‘I was worried when I set up this meeting with you. I’m relieved that you’re being so sensible about this.’

James grinned guiltily. ‘To be honest, it’s not down to me. Kerry, Kyle and Lauren have all been nagging me for months, telling me that I’ve got to take things seriously.’

‘Good for them,’ Meryl said, as she placed her palm on the pile of university prospectuses. ‘So we’ve covered your identity, the issue with your father and your finances. Now the trickiest bit, have you decided where and when you want to study?’

‘Stanford University in California,’ James said. ‘Nice and sunny. I spent over an hour on the telephone discussing my options with that curriculum advisor guy in Chicago. It’s supposed to be the fourth best college in America, the mathematics department is one of the best in the world and ninety-eight per cent of students live on the campus so I won’t have to worry about being lonely, or not making friends.’

‘And you’re quite sure that you want to study in America?’

James nodded. ‘Yeah. I think it would be really cool to live over there for a few years. And after being undercover with the Brigands for the best part of a year, John Jones says it’s a good idea to stay out of the UK, just in case some Vengeful Bastard recognises me and comes at me with a hatchet.’