Ray opened his door to get out, and Scott grabbed his arm. “I don’t think you should get out. They may be after someone,” Scott whispered.
“Not us. We have not done anything wrong,” Ray said, trying to reassure Scott.
“I know, but we have Catherine in the back,” Scott said. Jason exchanged a quick glance with Catherine. “Dad, turn the car around. Let’s go another way just in case.”
Ray nodded, closed his door, and reversed the car back. Jason looked behind. Another car had appeared out of nowhere and screeched to a stop behind them.
We’re trapped, Jason thought.
Three men got out. One was heavyset and dressed in a light-colored trench coat. He sat on the front hood of the car and lit a cigarette, shielding the lighter to protect it from the rain. One of his companions opened an umbrella over his head. Ray glanced back at Jason.
Jason flung his door open. “Dad, just promise me you will stay in the car with Catherine and Scott. If you get a chance, just go.”
“Jason, get back in now!” Ray shouted.
After he slammed the door behind him, Jason strode forward toward the three men. He removed his left arm from the sling and dropped the sling to the ground. He slowly clenched his right fist.
After a few seconds of silence, the man with the cigarette stubbed it out and slowly clapped his hands in applause.
“You got guts, Steed. I read your profile. Bloody impressive. Queen’s Award for Bravery, Victoria Cross, and now you get out of a car with a hand in a cast, and you are prepared to fight us. I knew you were right for the job. Let me introduce myself. I’m George Young. I am a commander for the undercover intelligence unit for SYUI.”
“SYUI? What’s that?”
“Scotland Yard Undercover Intel.”
“What do you want with us?”
“It’s you I want. I need your help with a job.”
“Hang on a second. All this—men in dark suits on a country lane—just to ask me something? You scared the life out of us.”
“Sorry if I upset your family. I just wanted to see your reaction. You did all right, son.”
“If you know so much about me, you know where I live. If you want to ask me something, come to my house in an hour. Let me take my friends home first.”
Jason turned and started to walk toward his father’s car.
“Steed, it’s me that calls the shots here, not you,” the man called after him.
As he bent down to pick up his sling, Jason replied, “One hour. Take it or leave it. I’m taking my friends home first.” He climbed in the back, his heartbeat slowing down. He realized all at once that he was dripping wet. The others all stared at him.
“His name is George Young, and he says he is from SYUI,” Jason said, slipping his arm back into its sling. “Have you heard of that?”
His father nodded and eyed the cars suspiciously as they disappeared into the night, leaving them alone once again on the country road.
“He knows my name and wants me to do a job for him.”
“What job?” Scott asked.
“I didn’t ask. I told him to come to our house in an hour. He can ask you, Dad. I have no idea what sort of job.” Jason took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I guess this ruins our dinner plans. We could order in though.”
“What is SYUI?” Scott asked.
“Scotland Yard Undercover Intelligence Department,” Catherine said.
Jason and the others all raised their eyebrows.
She laughed. “Well, I do have a policeman with me most of the time, and I have ears. Don’t look so surprised. What do they want you for? You’re shaking. Are you all right?” she asked, taking his hand.
“I am now—thanks,” Jason replied.
Ray looked at Catherine. “I’m sorry, Princess Catherine, but I believe it’s best if I take you home now.”
“Of course,” she said.
Nobody said a word after that. Jason kept a tight hold of Catherine’s hand the entire ride back into London. Ray dropped Catherine off with a guard at the entrance to Buckingham Palace and then dropped Scott off at his house. When they finally pulled into the driveway of their home nearly an hour later, Ray let out a deep sigh. “SYUI will be here any second.”
Jason nodded. “I’ll go ask Mrs. Betton to put some tea on—”
“Wait.” Ray bit his lip. “You and Catherine seem…tight.”
“Tight?” Jason asked, puzzled.
“Yes, tight, you know…close.”
“I suppose we are.”
Ray nodded. “Just…be careful, son. You’re very young, and she’s royalty.”
“I don’t care. She makes me laugh. That’s what matters.”
His father laughed softly. “I know exactly what you mean. I felt the exact same way about your mother.”
A pair of headlights pulled up behind them, ending the conversation. Ray sighed again and hurried to open the door for George Young. Jason climbed out of the car, relieved that Mr. Young had come alone this time. He closed the door behind the three of them, and they stood dripping in the hallway.
“Here we go. Here’s my card,” George Young said in a thick cockney accent. He passed it to Ray, who snatched it and folded his arms across his chest.
“What the hell is your problem?” Ray snapped. “I had another two his age and size in the car with me tonight when you thought you would play gangsters. What sort of idiot are you? You scared them and me and spoiled our evening.”
The pudgy man chuckled, stinking of cigarette smoke. “I suppose I deserved that.”
“What is it you want?” Ray demanded.
George Young smiled. “Mind if I smoke?”
“Yes, I do. Tell us what you want,” Ray snapped.
“Right then. I like the direct type.” He turned to Jason and continued, “We got this Triad gang in North London, see. They are like the mafia, but these geezers are Asian. They sell drugs, cigarettes, booze—anything they can nick. They use a small army. Well, I call ’em teenage Bruce Lees. They wear black clothing, masks, and break in and steal everything that ain’t bleeding tied down.”
Ray cleared his throat. “What does that have to do with my son?”
George Young kept his eyes on Jason. “These teenagers are deadly, and they’re expecting a shipment of drugs. It will be cheap and have half the bloody city addicted. We need a guy right on the inside. This geezer, Andrew Cho, is fifteen. He’s currently in juvie and has four months on his sentence to go. He is the son of Lin Cho, the Triad leader. We need Jason to befriend Cho in juvie and find out about the shipment… oh, and one more thing. We know Andrew Cho could be a target himself by a rival group.”
Ray gaped at him. Finally, he started to laugh.
“This is funny to you?” George Young asked.
“It is, in fact. You want me to send Jason to a youth detention center. You want him to befriend a fifteen-year-old drug lord’s son and find out about a drug shipment, not forgetting someone may try and bump this kid off?”
Young shrugged. “You got it in one. I can arrange for him to share a cell with Andrew Cho.”
“No. No way will I allow that. He’s eleven. He’s still not fully recovered, and he has done his bit for his country. He goes to one of the best schools in London. It’s out of the question to send him to jail.”
Jason opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it.
“Look, Steed, we’re on the same side ’ere, but we need someone who can use martial arts. If he becomes friends with Cho, when they are released, Cho will want Jason with his skills on his side. Well, they don’t come any better than him, do they? We need someone young who won’t be suspected. We need someone who wants to work undercover for the SAS one day and someone who can think on his feet. Well, he’s proved that, right?” He looked over at Jason and winked.
“The answer is still no. Forget it,” Ray said firmly.
“Suit yourself. You have my card if you change your mind. I’ll sho
w myself out.”
With that, the pudgy man waddled over to the door and slammed it shut behind him.
For a several moments, Jason and his father stood silently in the hall, staring at each other.
“Life will never be the same for you, son,” his father muttered at long last.
“I know,” Jason said. “Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think George Young will be back if we don’t get in touch with him first?”
Ray laughed and put his arm around Jason’s shoulder, steering him toward the kitchen. “Oh, I’m certain of it, but we’ll worry about that later. Let’s finally get that dinner, shall we?”
About the Author
Mark A. Cooper was born in London and moved with his wife and son to the United States in 2003. When his twelve-year-old son’s grades improved after he read the Harry Potter series, Mark decided to encourage literacy with his own novel. He self-published Fledgling: Jason Steed, and the novel has enjoyed huge success and a devoted following on the Internet.
Fledgling: Jason Steed Page 17