Jimmy Coates

by Joe Craig

  “I’ll brief you fully when you’re back in the office,” Miss Bennett went on, “but Mitchell might have discovered a clue to the whereabouts of the H Code.”

  “The H Code?” Eva said in a flat tone, desperate to seem calm.

  “Yes. A computer chip went missing many years ago. The French were meant to have stolen it, but Mitchell heard Viggo admit that he had it, and that he’d hidden it, so…” She waved a hand in the air. “You know – we’ll have to find it.”

  “What is it?” Eva asked. And what happened to Viggo, she wanted to add. What did Mitchell do? She forced herself to relax, but it took a huge effort. The answers to those questions would have to wait.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Miss Bennett replied. “I’ll explain everything later. I’ll send a car for you. Lots to clear up after the mess we were left in by that man-sized rat!”

  “You mean William Lee?”

  Miss Bennett performed an over-the-top shudder, then laughed a little. “I don’t like hearing his name,” she said with a wink. “But it’s OK. He’s dead.” She said it with the lightness of a person announcing the egg and spoon race at a fair. And with that, she straightened her hair and swept to the door. “I’ll see you later today, then!” she announced as she left.

  Eva was left feeling like a black whirlwind had destroyed her hospital room. Her whole body was shaking, bringing back the pain from her stab wound that she thought the drugs had brought under control. Fragments of the conversation shot through her mind: William Lee, Viggo, Mitchell… the H Code.

  What did any of it mean? What had really happened last night? What about Jimmy? She slipped her good hand under her laptop and pulled out the scan of the old photograph she’d hidden there. The NJ7 scientists were lined up, as ugly as ever. But now, all of them had black crosses over their faces, except two. Dr Higgins was already circled, with ‘USA?’ written above him. There was only one face left. A woman.

  Eva flattened the scan on the keyboard of her laptop and picked up a marker pen from her bedside table. For a few seconds she stared at the woman, as if her expression would reveal the secrets that could save Jimmy Coates. Finally Eva clicked the cap off the pen and carefully drew a bold circle round the woman’s face.

  “You,” she whispered to herself. “You’re the one.”

  As soon as Jimmy saw that morning’s Sudoku puzzle, he felt a shiver. They were all back in the same café for a breakfast of more toast and tea, after a few hours’ sleep in the staff room of Finsbury Park tube station. Saffron hadn’t found the break in difficult, even using only one arm. Jimmy checked what he’d seen in the paper one more time, then slammed his palm down on the table. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Go where?” Felix protested. “I haven’t finished my toast.”

  “Bring it with you.” Jimmy was already moving. Saffron threw some money down on the table and they all dashed out.

  Ever since Jimmy had seen someone shooting at Viggo, he’d been searching for the reason. Now, some of the mysteries of the previous night were beginning to clear in his mind. At first he’d assumed it was NJ7 trying again to eliminate the Government’s opposition, but then Mitchell and Lenny had turned up, which meant that the shooter had not been sent by the Government. Afterwards, Neil Muzbeke’s hazy memories suggested that he’d been brainwashed and sent by the CIA – but why? Why did the CIA want Viggo dead?

  “They wanted everybody out of the way,” Jimmy explained, leaning forward in the car to whisper to his mother where to drive them. The Bentley powered them on through London’s traffic.

  “Everybody?” said Georgie. “You’re making no sense!”

  “Listen,” said Jimmy, piecing together the CIA strategy as he spoke. His brain seemed to take on the characters of a thousand other operatives, working out their interests, their tactics, as if the CIA had a shadow network inside his head. “With this Government in place, the USA is getting nothing from Britain. No power, no trade, no money. But it’s no good getting rid of a government if you don’t know what’s going to take its place.”

  “They weren’t getting rid of the Government,” Jimmy’s mother protested. “They got rid of…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Viggo’s death hung over them all like toxic ashes.

  “I think they were,” Jimmy said quickly. He pulled out the newspaper again, but folded it from the Sudoku back to the front page, where one of the lead stories declared that Christopher Viggo had been behind an attempted attack on the Prime Minister late last night, and that he had been ‘neutralised’ by Government security forces.

  “We only saw half the operation,” Jimmy explained. “I think it went like this: get rid of the Prime Minister, but make sure you remove the opposition at the same time, so the only person who can possibly take over is exactly the person the CIA decides.”

  “Who?” Felix was gripped. He bit down on his toast so hard he almost lost a tooth.

  “It doesn’t matter who!” Jimmy exclaimed. “The point is they needed two assassins! We found one.” He jerked his thumb at Neil Muzbeke. “And the other one tried to assassinate the Prime Minister last night in Downing Street.”

  Neil Muzbeke shifted uncomfortably at the word ‘assassin’, but before any of them could respond, the Bentley pulled up under a flyover by London Bridge station. Helen had spotted something. Jimmy’s face relaxed at last and he smiled, looking past his friends’ confused faces out of the window. It was several seconds before Felix, Georgie, Neil and Saffron turned to see what he was looking at.

  “Mum!” Felix screamed. He barged Georgie out of the way, leapt out of the car and into his mother’s arms. Toast crumbs sprayed everywhere. “I’m never letting you go again!” His voice was muffled by his mum’s coat. A second later they were both swamped by Felix’s father.

  “How did you…?” gasped Georgie, looking at Jimmy in disbelief.

  “Eva left a message,” he explained, indicating the back of the newspaper again. “Hold the Sudoku squares over the crossword and it just says: found someone, London Bridge, flyover. I put it together with the story on the front page, and just, sort of…”

  “You know,” Georgie beamed, “for an idiot, you’re a genius!”

  They didn’t linger under the flyover. Helen quickly hid the car in one of the disused garages that ran along the side of the road, thick with graffiti, and they met up again on the next train out of London Bridge. They didn’t even know where it was going.

  “We can get away now,” said Felix. “Together.” He sat between his parents, smiling like Jimmy hadn’t seen for months.

  Jimmy nodded, but his own smile was forced. Get away, he thought, repeating the words to himself, trying to make them mean something. But he couldn’t. Getting away wasn’t the answer for him. His problems stayed with him. He could almost feel them within the prison of his skin. The battle inside his body was just getting started.

  “We’ll have to keep an eye on you,” said Helen Coates to Felix’s parents. “You’ll need plenty of rest to get over the effects of the brainwashing.”

  “And some good food too, I expect,” Saffron added, winking at Felix.

  “They look OK to me,” said Felix.

  “They look pretty cool actually,” Georgie agreed. “When did you get matching earrings?”

  Simultaneously, Neil and Olivia Muzbeke reached up and felt the silver studs in their left ears. From their faces, they were obviously stunned to find them.

  “I never…” Neil began, bemused.

  “I don’t think…” said Olivia.

  They both dissolved, their surprise turning to laughter. Jimmy heard the laughs, but his body tensed and stopped him from joining in. His eyes locked on to the silver studs.

  “Get them off,” he whispered suddenly. “Get them off now!”

  “What?” Neil gasped.

  Jimmy reached over and with an expert tweak pulled the earrings away from Neil and Olivia’s flesh. He dropped them on the table in front of them, took off his
trainer and slammed the heel down on one of the studs. It cracked cleanly into two tiny hemispheres. Jimmy did the same to the second stud. Inside each of them were the broken remnants of a microchip. Jimmy examined one of them closely, letting his mind read the connections, searching for recognition.

  “They’ve been listening,” he announced.

  “We lost the transmission a few minutes ago, Mr President,” said the new head of the CIA, standing proudly in the Oval Office of the White House for the first time.

  “You have the transcript?” replied President Keays, not looking up from the papers on his desk. The CIA chief offered a thin folder. Keays took it after a second, leaned back in his huge leather chair and flicked through the folder, repositioning the reading glasses on his nose at the end of every paragraph.

  While the President read, the CIA man let his eyes take in the historic office. He longed to be invited to sit down on the pristine sofas, to discuss world affairs with the President. Then he subtly craned his neck, peering at the papers on the President’s desk. What was the man planning? Perhaps one day soon, the CIA chief thought to himself, he would be able to examine the President’s documents close-up, to stand with him on the other side of the desk… or without him. Perhaps he could one day sit in his chair.

  “What’s this?” the President growled suddenly, sitting forward. Then he shouted to his secretary, “Get Dr Higgins in here!”

  “Is there a problem, Mr President?” asked the CIA chief.

  “No problem,” came the reply. “But you might need to take notes on this.” He looked up at the CIA man for the first time, a smile creasing the lower half of his face. “A very clever man is about to tell us everything we need to know about something called the H Code.”

  “Who’s been listening?” Felix asked.

  “The Americans!” said Jimmy. “The CIA, the President… who knows!? But they’ve heard everything!”

  He held his head, running through every conversation that had taken place in the club last night. What had been said loud enough to be picked up by the listening device on Neil Muzbeke’s ear? How much would have echoed down to him as he lay on the dance floor, unconscious? Jimmy forced himself to focus on every detail. All he saw were the flashes of the strobe light, and Christopher Viggo’s face. He let out a grunt, pushing away that anguish, and looked to his friends. He was desperate for them to say something. Didn’t they realise what this meant?

  “The H Code!” Jimmy whispered. “The H Code contains all the information about my DNA, about my body and how it’s made. Chris said it was the programme that… that made me. It’s the key to the assassin technology. That’s why the Capita wanted it so badly!”

  He looked around at the blank faces. The others knew this much already.

  “So now they’ll know the chip is out there!” Jimmy went on. “The Americans – they’ll know Chris had it. They’ll know he hid the chip somewhere and they’ll know what they could do if they found it!”

  “Let them find it!” Saffron said, trying to keep her voice level. “It’s nothing to do with us now. Mitchell heard every word too, so NJ7 will be looking for the H Code as well. Let them fight the Americans for it. At least they’ll leave us alone.”

  Jimmy felt his heart pounding. He wanted to tear up the train carriage, rage growling in his chest.

  “I need it!” he let out, with a roar. He spread his fingers on the table. The blue in his fingertips hadn’t crept any further, but it wasn’t going away. If anything, it was deeper, darker. Only Jimmy knew that the nose bleeds, the headaches and the pain in his muscles were getting worse.

  “I might not be dead yet,” he whispered, “or even soon…” He stared straight ahead, trying to focus on something to keep himself calm. “But this is doing something to my body, and it’s not good. Eva’s trying to find me an old NJ7 doctor, but what will they be able to do without an NJ7 lab, or Dr Higgins’ files? Unless they have the H Code…”

  “So where is it?” asked Felix calmly. “It’s a computer chip, right? Did Chris really have it?”

  “I don’t know,” Jimmy muttered. “He didn’t have the chance to tell me before he…”

  “What about the Capita?” Georgie said softly. The horror in Jimmy’s mind grew. Georgie was right: the Capita would still do anything to get hold of the H Code, especially if they felt like they’d already paid for it. In his head the CIA, NJ7 and the Capita all swirled together into one huge monster the colour of night.

  “So are we still going into hiding?” asked Felix. “We could all leave the country… go to live somewhere hot… you know, with beaches and fruit trees and crazy-flavoured drinks and stuff…”

  “I’ll come with you wherever you’re going and make sure you’re safe,” Jimmy whispered. “But then I have to find the H Code. It might be the only chance I have to survive. Now it looks like I’ll be fighting the Americans and the Capita, as well as NJ7. Fine. I’ll fight whoever gets in my way. I’m getting the H Code, then I’m getting cured, then I’m going to make sure nobody can ever make…” He paused, unable to speak through his fury. He took two deep breaths. “They’ll never make another one of me again. It ends here. It ends with me.”

  The rattling of the train was the only sound. Jimmy closed his eyes, desperate to settle the turmoil inside him. He felt his friends shifting around him. Then there was a hand on his, then another. Then came a soft touch on his knee, and on his shoulder. One by one, his sister, his mum and his friends held him, and they held him all the way to the end of the line.

  About the Author

  Joe Craig is a novelist, screenwriter, songwriter and performer. His award-winning thrillers have earned him a place alongside Anthony Horowitz, Charlie Higson and Robert Muchamore as “one of the best spy kids authors... outstanding at both writing and plotting.” (The Times) The first Jimmy Coates book was published by HarperCollins in 2005. Since then the series has won over fans across the world and converted thousands of previously reluctant readers with an electric mix of action, suspense and thrilling twists.

  Packed houses at festivals, bookshops, libraries and schools all over the world have experienced The Joe Craig Show. His tall tales, improvised stories, and surprising theories about writing have enthralled and entertained audiences every bit as much as his books.

  He studied Philosophy at Cambridge University then became a songwriter. His first solo album (‘The Songman & Me’) was released in 2011. The success of his books led to a new career writing movies. Now he splits his writing time between novels and film projects.

  When he’s not writing, (or even when he is) he’s visiting schools, eating sushi, playing the piano, watching a movie, reading, drawing, playing snooker or cricket, inventing a new snack, cooking, doing martial arts training or sleeping.

  He lives in London with his wife (broadcaster & adventurer Mary-Ann Ochota), his dog (Harpo the labradonkey) and his dwarf crocodile (Professor Sven). You can get in touch with him through his website (www.joecraig.co.uk) or facebook (www.facebook.com/joecraiguk).

  Also by Joe Craig

  1. Jimmy Coates: Killer

  2. Jimmy Coates: Target

  3. Jimmy Coates: Revenge

  4. Jimmy Coates: Sabotage

  5. Jimmy Coates: Survival

  6. Jimmy Coates: Power

  TEAM UP WITH

  JIMMY COATES!

  WWW.JIMMYCOATES.COM

  WWW.JOECRAIG.CO.UK

  Copyright

  First published in Great Britain by

  HarperCollins Children’s Books 2013

  HarperCollins Children’s Books is a

  division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

  77-85 Fulham Palace Road,

  Hammersmith, London, W6 8JB

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  Copyright © Joseph Craig 2013.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable rig
ht to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  ISBN 978 0 00 752432 7

  Ebook Edition © MAY 2013 ISBN: 9780007524334

  Version 1

  Joseph Craig asserts the moral right to be

  identified as the author of the work.

  About the Publisher

  Australia

  HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.

  Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street

  Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia

  http://www.harpercollins.com.au

  Canada

  HarperCollins Canada

  2 Bloor Street East - 20th Floor

  Toronto, ON, M4W, 1A8, Canada

  http://www.harpercollins.ca

  New Zealand

  HarperCollins Publishers (New Zealand) Limited

  P.O. Box 1

  Auckland, New Zealand

  http://www.harpercollins.co.nz

  United Kingdom

  HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

  77-85 Fulham Palace Road

  London, W6 8JB, UK

  http://www.harpercollins.co.uk

  United States

  HarperCollins Publishers Inc.

  10 East 53rd Street

  New York, NY 10022

  http://www.harpercollins.com