Shadow Wave

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘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.’

  25. LEAVING

  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.’

  ‘I spoke to John about the safety issue,’ Meryl said. ‘You associated with a large number of bikers over a long period, so you could be in some danger, especially while there’s a gang war going on. And besides, American colleges are the best in the world and Stanford is among the best of the best. The only thing that worries me is that it will be very academic. We can pull strings to get you through the door, but there’s nothing we can do to keep you there if you fail your exams.’

  James nodded. ‘As long as it’s maths or physics, I think I’ll be fine. It’s only when it comes to reading books and writing long essays that my brain turns to sludge.’

  Meryl stepped up to the computer on her desk. She crouched over her screen and spent a few seconds studying a spreadsheet.

  ‘Two other CHERUB agents have gone to Stanford in the last ten years,’ she said, as she read from the screen. ‘Both previous Stanford admissions have been handled for us by the CIA’s relocation department at short notice and without any problems. And because of the security angle with the Brigands, CHERUB will pay all of your tuition fees and living expenses whilst you remain in full-time education.’

  ‘The advisor said I should ask about American citizenship too,’ James said.

  Meryl nodded. ‘I’d suggest setting you up as a British citizen. If you want to change that later, we’ll be able to fix you up with an American passport.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ James said.

  ‘The other obvious problem with going to America is that you can’t pop home and visit Lauren on campus, or go see Kyle for the weekend,’ Meryl warned. ‘And I thought you were still in a serious relationship with Kerry.’

  ‘American courses are modular,’ James explained. ‘So I can do my first and take a year off. So when Kerry leaves CHERUB this time next year, she can either start college with me, or we can take a year off and go travelling. And the beautiful thing is that there are other good colleges near Stanford. So Kerry could study at Berkeley, or USC and we’ll still be near to each other.’

  ‘I take it you want to fly out and actually visit the Stanford campus before making a final decision?’ Meryl asked. ‘You’ll have to do it fairly soon because even our CIA relocation contacts need time to process your application and arrange your student visa.’

  James nodded. ‘The advisor suggested that I go and take a look. He said he can arrange college tours, with proper guides and everything.’

  ‘I’ll book you a flight,’ Meryl said. ‘It’ll probably be the week after next if that’s OK with you? And Kerry really needs to come along too if she’s a serious part of your plans.’

  James liked the idea of a trip to California with Kerry and broke into a big smile.

  ‘There’s one other thing,’ Meryl said. ‘I almost hate to ask the question, but I feel that I have to. How confident are you that your relationship with Kerry will stand up to at least one year of living apart?’

  James shrugged and looked awkward for a couple of seconds. ‘We’ve been separated on missions and stuff. But, I’m a realist, I guess … I mean, we’re both young. We’ve broken up before. I really hope it works out with Kerry and that we end up studying in California together. But shit happens, you know?’

  Meryl laughed as she walked back from her desk. ‘Lots of shit happens!’ she agreed. ‘Stand up James. Give me a hug.’

  James was startled. Meryl was always friendly, but not to the extent that she usually went around hugging people.

  ‘Get your hairy butt over here,’ she ordered, and held out her muscular arms.

  Meryl pulled James into a tight hug and slapped him hard on the back. The six-foot three-inch retired Olympic sprinter was one of the few women big enough to mother a stocky seventeen-year-old like James.

  ‘I’ve been tough on you at times, but only because I had to be,’ Meryl said, as she let James go. ‘But I’m really proud of the way you’ve thought your future through. You’re a great lad, and I’m gonna miss the hell out of you when you’re gone.’

  James felt a tear well up in his eye. ‘I never knew you cared that much,’ he said, as he stifled a sob.

  ‘Of course I care you daft boy,’ Meryl said incredulously. ‘You’re all little sods at times, but you’re all my babies. Well, with the possible exception of Jake Parker.’

  26. SHOPS

  James was humming Going to California by Led Zeppelin as he walked into the campus dining-room. It was morning break and there were crowds of younger kids queuing to get hot drinks and bacon rolls. He couldn’t be arsed to wait in line, so he headed directly to a table by the window and joined his sister Lauren and her boyfriend Rat.

  ‘You look cheerful,’ Lauren noted. ‘Did Kerry buy some kinky underwear or something?’

  ‘Oh aren’t you hilarious,’ James said dryly. ‘Where’d you disappear to yesterday?’

  ‘Long walk with a bunch of wedding guests. It was really nice. The sun was out, we ate lu
nch in this country pub.’

  ‘I got blisters,’ Rat complained.

  Lauren swivelled her head and glared at him. ‘You said you enjoyed it.’

  ‘It was OK,’ he shrugged.

  James laughed. ‘You two have been together too long. You’re starting to peck at each other like you’re married or something. So anyway, I had my meeting with Meryl.’

  ‘Take it from the humming that it went well?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘Trip to California being planned to check out Stanford University. She did the financial figures as well. I get about four hundred and fifty grand. You’ll get even more when you leave, because you passed basic training when you were ten.’

  Rat looked down and blew casually on his fingertips. ‘That’s not much,’ he sneered. ‘ASIS found that some of my dad’s paintings were registered in my name. I think the Picasso was sold for five and a half, then there was a Pollock, and a couple of Warhols. It came to about eight and a half million at auction as I remember …’

  ‘Rich bastard,’ James grinned.

  Lauren nodded. ‘I’m only really his girlfriend because of all the money he’ll get when he turns eighteen. I’m gonna marry him and then totally screw him for a massive divorce settlement.’

  ‘Well I’m no millionaire,’ James said. ‘But there’s enough in the kitty that I won’t have to worry about student loans or saving up for a car.’

  ‘I feel bad for people like Bruce and Kyle,’ Lauren noted. ‘Their parents didn’t leave them anything.’

  ‘Kyle did OK though,’ James said. ‘Because his parents were povs, he gets an extra allowance from the CHERUB trust fund. We’re lucky that we’re so well looked after. I remember when I was staying at the Zoo in Luton. The kids there got a council flat, dole money and a two-hundred-quid furniture grant when they turned seventeen.’

  ‘They have to look after us after we leave,’ Rat said. ‘If they didn’t, some desperate sod would write a book about CHERUB, or try sneaking out photos of campus and selling them to a newspaper.’