The Olympic-size pool had been set up with a hundred coloured balls floating on the surface. A dumpster at either end would serve as a goal.
‘You’re two minutes late,’ Capstick said, glancing at his huge plastic diver’s watch. ‘Do that again and I’ll give you push-ups. Red balls are worth one point, yellow three, blue five and green ten. You’re only allowed to carry one ball at a time. Barging is allowed, but no holding, no hitting and instant disqualification if you hold anyone’s head under the water. Each round lasts twenty minutes, or until all the balls are cleared. The first team to win three rounds wins the match. The losing team has to run the twelve-kilometre circuit of the island before they get dinner.’
‘There’s five of them and four of us,’ Lauren pointed out. ‘That’s not fair.’
Capstick scoffed. ‘Blame your brother for his slack recruiting skills. Fair is for fairy tales. Now get to your end of the pool.’
The four Crustys and five Currents lined up, fifty metres apart at opposite ends of the pool. A training assistant with his legs dangling over the end of a high board blew a whistle and everyone dived in.
Although wind and currents had blown the balls around, most were clumped in the middle of the pool, close to where they’d been released. Everyone wanted the ten-point green balls first. Bruce and Ning were the fastest swimmers on their teams and each scooped a green.
Alfie tried using his bulk to stop Bruce, but Lauren was close behind. Bruce flipped the ball across, giving her a simple shot into the mouth of the blue dumpster.
‘Ten nil,’ Bruce shouted, as he quickly grabbed a three-point yellow and flung it at Lauren as Alfie locked arms around his waist.
‘Holding!’ Bruce protested.
Alfie was twenty centimetres taller than Bruce and fifteen kilos heavier. But Bruce was super strong. He ripped free, then drove Alfie hard into the poolside, leaving him badly winded. With Alfie temporarily disabled, Bruce and Lauren linked up, with Bruce throwing balls across and Lauren making the short final throw into the goal.
But while Team Crusty’s healthy duo racked up the points, things were going less well at the other end. With a man over, Ryan and Leon played a tactical game, lobbing dozens of balls down towards their goal, allowing Daniel and Ning to scoop and shoot.
Kyle threw balls back and batted Daniel’s throws with some success, but Ning was a fish and James couldn’t get within two metres as she rattled a stream of plastic balls into the dumpster. Rather than a losing battle with Ning, James decided to break along the edge of the pool. He scooped several balls and flipped them up to Bruce as he swam. But as he neared the middle, James found himself double-teamed by Ryan and Alfie.
As Alfie gave James a powerful shove, Ryan dived and whipped down his shorts.
‘Hey!’ James shouted, grabbing frantically as Ryan surfaced and resumed lobbing balls down towards Daniel and Ning.
Five minutes into the twenty, more than half the balls had been cleared. Those that remained tended to be low-value reds and yellows, scattered along the edges of the pool. Bruce and Ning were sharks amidst dolphins, scoring consistently with the opposition getting nowhere near. At the other extreme, Kyle was red-faced as he clambered out of the pool and lay flat on his back, breathing rapidly.
‘Are you hurt?’ James shouted, looking around after hitting the dumpster rim with the last five-point blue.
‘Stitch,’ Kyle gasped. ‘So painful.’
‘It’s the first round,’ James said. ‘And I thought I was unfit.’
With Kyle out it was five against three. The Currents made their numbers count, with their two fastest swimmers – Ning and Ryan – collecting balls and feeding them to Alfie’s long arms near the goal, while the twins did what they could to harass the opposition.
There were four and a half minutes on the countdown when the last single-point reds clattered into the dumpsters at either end. Kyle had made it to a sunlounger and was still clutching his side as the others climbed out of the pool and the training assistants tipped up the dumpsters and started tallying points.
‘You’re bright red,’ Lauren noted, as she gave Kyle a look of concern.
‘Heart attack material,’ Bruce teased. ‘I thought you belonged to a gym.’
‘Didn’t say he actually went though,’ James noted.
‘Just gimme a couple of days,’ Kyle moaned. ‘I’ll be fine once I’ve blasted off the cobwebs.’
‘We have a winner,’ Capstick announced, as one of the assistants handed him a piece of paper. ‘Current Agents, two hundred and forty-three. Crusty Old Agents, one hundred and thirty-two.’
‘Hah!’ Leon shouted, as he high-fived Ning. ‘That’s almost two to one.’
Lauren and Bruce looked at each other, shaking heads as Capstick approached, smiling and thumping James on the back.
‘How’s my training so far, boss?’ he asked.
Since James was in charge of the mission, he was technically Capstick’s boss. Though he’d have to follow orders during physical training, if he didn’t want to lose everyone’s respect.
‘I’m grand,’ James lied. ‘Fine and dandy.’
‘Looking forward to that run around the island?’ Capstick asked, as he eyed Kyle. ‘My youngsters have you whipped, and you might end up having to give this fellow a piggyback.’
As the training assistants poured balls back into the pool ready for round two, James saw Tovah coming down the path from the huts, dressed in a black bikini.
‘I could bury my face in that cleavage,’ Bruce noted quietly.
‘Misogynist pig,’ Lauren growled, as she thumped him.
‘Hey,’ Tovah said, peering at James over the top of her sunglasses. ‘This looks like fun. Can anyone play?’
28. BUNKS
The hut slept eight, so James, Kyle and Bruce got a set of bunks each.
‘Oh, glorious day!’ Bruce said brightly, as he came from a slightly grungy bathroom dressed in shorts. ‘Sun is shining and life is good!’
‘Sod off,’ Kyle moaned, pulling a pillow over his face. ‘My body hurts.’
‘What bit?’
‘All of it,’ Kyle said, as he sat up. ‘I’m old.’
‘You’re twenty-six,’ Bruce noted. ‘Jesus.’
Kyle saw a tangle of sheets in the next bunk across. ‘Is James up?’
Bruce smiled. ‘Kerry arrived on a boat around three a.m. They were all over each other.’
‘I wish I had that,’ Kyle said.
‘What?’ Bruce asked.
‘James and Kerry,’ Kyle explained. ‘They’re like an institution. None of that messing around trying to find my perfect guy. You just meet someone when you’re twelve and it all goes great.’
Bruce laughed. ‘They’ve broken up a hundred times.’
Kyle nodded as he pulled up a set of tracksuit bottoms. ‘But did we ever doubt that they’d get back together every time it happened?’
‘I dated Kerry,’ Bruce pointed out acidly.
‘No offence,’ Kyle said, clutching his ribs and groaning as he stood up.
‘So over it,’ Bruce said. ‘Thai girls are awesome! How’s your love life these days? You still seeing that quantity surveyor with the nose ring?’
‘He dumped me for an Indian PHP programmer,’ Kyle said, sighing as he checked his iPhone and slid feet into Adidas. ‘Breakfast?’
‘Bloody right,’ Bruce said. ‘I’ve got a crazy appetite.’
The main kitchen and dining-room was undergoing an off-season refurbishment, so the chef had made do with a domestic kitchen in a staff flat. She’d cleared sofas out of a living-room and found odd chairs and fold-out tables to make a dining space.
‘Ahoy, mateys,’ James crowed, as Kyle and Bruce joined him at a buffet table.
‘Look at that grin,’ Bruce teased, as James loaded his plate with bacon, eggs and sausage. ‘Someone got lucky last night.’
‘Where is Kerry?’ Kyle asked.
‘Shower,’ James explained.
> Lauren was eating with Capstick at one table, while a rowdy crowd of current agents sat at the next.
‘Why you holding your back, Kyle?’ Alfie shouted. ‘Need a walking stick? Or maybe a Zimmer frame?’
Bruce narrowed his eyes. ‘How’s them ribs I smashed into the poolside, Alfie? Nice and bruised, like Daniel’s eye?’
‘You guys should probably take things slow today,’ Leon added, as he stuffed scrambled egg into his mouth. ‘People your age gotta think about your blood pressure.’
‘Or popping your haemorrhoids,’ Alfie added, as his table erupted in laughter.
Friendly whoops went up as Kerry rolled in. Lauren and Kyle gave her hugs.
Kerry turned sharply and looked at Bruce. ‘So, when do we get to smack these sarcastic brats around the dojo?’ she asked.
‘Soon enough,’ Bruce said, as he took a seat next to Lauren. ‘See how smart they are tomorrow morning, when they’ve got no front teeth.’
‘I’m not scared of you,’ Alfie told Bruce. ‘I’ve found bigger objects than you up my nose.’
Laughter roared around the current agents’ table. James gave Kerry a kiss as they passed in opposite directions. James with his plate stacked, Kerry heading to the buffet. As James settled between Lauren and Kyle, Tovah darted out of the kitchen, holding a fruit plate covered in cling film.
‘What?’ James asked, as he poached a hash brown on his fork.
‘Bad news,’ Tovah told James. ‘I did some calculations. If you want to fly on this mission, you need to lose four kilos.’
James gawped as Tovah swapped his bacon and eggs for sliced melon, garnished with two red grapes.
‘You’re kidding me,’ James said, pointing at Kyle. ‘He’s fatter than me.’
‘Hey!’ Kyle yelped.
Tovah shook her head. ‘Kyle may be overweight for his body size, but he’s shorter so he’s still only sixty-four kilos. You need to be under seventy-five.’
Everyone apart from James started laughing.
‘Who ate all the pies?’ the teens at the next table started singing. ‘Who ate all the pies?’
‘These sausages are dee-licious,’ Kerry teased, as James glowered at his melon. ‘Is it every meal, or just breakfast?’
‘Every meal,’ Tovah said. ‘Serious calorie restriction is the only way James can drop four kilos in five weeks.’
‘Hey,’ James growled, as Lauren snapped a pic with her phone. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Had to, bro,’ Lauren explained. ‘Your expression right now is priceless!’
While CHERUB had blown its investment budget on the swanky new Campus Village, the summer hostel had been neglected. The gym was no exception, with creaky floorboards, cracked glazing and fighting mats patched up with duct tape.
Capstick led the training session, starting with laps and stretches. Kyle hadn’t sparred for ages, but triumphed over aches and put on a decent show sparring with Leon. Daniel got outclassed by Tovah. As the two biggest, James paired with Alfie, and their session got red-faced and bad-tempered as it progressed. Bruce and Kerry had been sparring since they were nine years old, but since Kerry hadn’t trained intensely since leaving uni, Bruce had to go easy.
After ninety minutes and a few partner swaps, Tovah, the five Currents and the five Crustys lined up breathlessly in front of Capstick and McEwen.
‘Yawl worked hard,’ Capstick said, smiling. ‘Especially you, Kyle, blowing off a lot of cobwebs.’
Kyle smiled as Bruce slapped him between the shoulder blades.
‘But,’ Capstick said dramatically. ‘Since Currents and Crustys are in competition, I want each side to pick their three best fighters for three bouts. Winners get first dibs at showers and lunch buffet. Losers run ten laps and wipe down sweaty mats.’
Since Ning and Alfie were mates and Leon and Daniel were his little brothers, Ryan had assumed a leadership role amongst the Currents, and led the quintet into a circle by the back wall.
‘Bruce is going to beat whoever,’ Alfie began. ‘Ning’s too fast for James, Kyle’s a wreck and I reckon Ning can take Kerry or Lauren, because they’re both out of practice.’
Ryan nodded in agreement. ‘So if Bruce wins his bout and Ning wins hers, it’ll all be down to the third match-up.’
‘Hang on,’ Ning said. ‘I’m the best, Bruce is the best. We should fight each other.’
The four lads shook their heads. ‘Nah, we have to be tactical,’ Ryan said.
Ning smiled. ‘I’ve been hearing about the legendary Bruce Norris since my first dojo session on campus. I’ve always wanted to fight him.’
‘But then we’ll be a bout down,’ Ryan said. ‘What’s the point?’
Ning put indignant hands on hips. ‘Who says I can’t win?’
The boys laughed and shook their heads.
‘Ning, for god’s sake,’ Alfie said. ‘Bruce won the All-in Campus Fighting Championship every year from when he was thirteen. He’s been training some of the best young fighters on campus.’
Ryan nodded. ‘Bruce has been living in Thailand. He teaches Muay Thai boxing to Thai people.’
‘I can take him,’ Ning said, pounding a fist into her palm. ‘I’m fighting Bruce, that’s all there is to it.’
29. TAPES
Lauren Adams faced Ryan in an even first bout. Ryan’s height and speed, versus Lauren’s technique and low centre of gravity. After a lot of circling, Lauren suckered Ryan into overreaching on a punch. She went low, tripped, flipped and won with an arm bar.
Alfie and James repeated their sparring from earlier. Bulky and slow, they grunted, turned red and wound up on the floor in a stalemate. Capstick declared Alfie a narrow winner, mainly because he wanted the third bout to count for something.
Bruce Norris was a few centimetres shorter than an average bloke. Slim, muscular and so fast that opponents often found themselves on the floor and bloody-nosed before they got to make their first move. Ning was the same height. Her broad back and muscular arms made the Chinese state pick her as a future Olympic boxer when she was a little kid and you could see why as she went eye-to-eye with Bruce.
‘Fight,’ Capstick snapped, as the sweaty onlookers hummed with excitement.
Bruce did what he did. He swept in fast and brought Ning down with a leg hook. It looked like it was over inside three seconds as Bruce dived on Ning’s back and tried to wrench her arm. But her powerful shoulders didn’t yield the way Bruce expected and there was huge power in the flying knee that slammed him in the ribs and sent him off balance.
Now Ning rolled on top. Bruce writhed as Ning got a knee across his chest and started pounding his face with her gloved fists. If more was at stake, Bruce might have taken the pain and tried to throw her off, but he didn’t fancy doing the rest of his mission prep trying to breathe through a broken nose, so he thumped on the mat to submit.
The crowd seemed delighted by Ning’s shock victory. Even the Crustys, who now faced gym laps.
‘Losing it, Bruce!’ Alfie shouted.
Ning’s own celebration was muted. She knew Bruce had made a tactical surrender as she gave him a hand off the mat and strolled towards an equipment bin, peeling her gloves.
‘You hit hard,’ Bruce said, grinning.
Ning had beaten enough boys over the years to appreciate the ones who didn’t bitch and make excuses when they lost.
‘You’ve never seen me fight,’ Ning said. ‘I’ve seen videos of your campus championship bouts. You always did the same thing against fighters in the early rounds, when you thought it would be easy.’
‘My mistake,’ Bruce said, smirking as he ripped off a boxing glove and lobbed it into a canvas bag. ‘I certainly respect you now. And I’ve broken my nose too many times down the years to push that one too far.’
Ning shrugged. ‘You’d beat me every time if you knew my fighting style.’
‘But you played me,’ Bruce said, unable to contain a huge smile as he eyed Ning. ‘Gotta admire that. You heading straight
to uni when you leave CHERUB?’
‘Can’t decide,’ Ning said.
‘I’m good mates with the owner of the dojo where I work in Thailand. If you wanted a gap year, I could probably get you work as a trainer. Maybe even earn something on the side from professional bouts, if you’re that way inclined.’
‘It’s a thought,’ Ning said brightly. ‘I came out of China penniless, so I could certainly use some funds.’
‘Pay’s not great,’ Bruce admitted. ‘But the lifestyle’s cool. You can find yourself a nice Aussie surfer boyfriend.’
Ning looked awkwardly at her feet and grunted. ‘All guys ever want is skinny girls with giant boobs.’
Bruce laughed. ‘Don’t be so down on yourself. Loads of guys would go for you.’
Ning snorted. ‘Like who?’
Bruce smiled. ‘Like me.’
Ning was flattered and erupted in a big smile, but it was also weird because she couldn’t work out if Bruce was flirting, or just being kind. Bruce felt just as awkward, because he’d realised that he was flirting. But he wasn’t on some Thai beach. He’d been working as CHERUB staff, and Ning was a seventeen-year-old agent.
As the pair flushed red, they were both relieved to see Instructor McEwen coming their way, pointing at Bruce.
‘Join the other Crustys,’ McEwen shouted. ‘Ten laps. And Ning, get your sweaty ass out of my gym and into the shower.’
James lunched on hummus and carrot batons while everyone else got pizza, but he cheered up when he took charge of fifteen 450cc Honda bikes.
‘Who’s ridden a motorbike before?’ James asked, as the two teams and four training staff gathered.
Lauren, Bruce, Alfie, Ryan and one of the training assistants raised their hands.
‘These are 450 CRF dirt bikes,’ James explained. ‘Almost indestructible. Top speed is only around a hundred and thirty kph, but they’re built with high ground clearance and fat tyres that make them good on the kind of terrain we’ll encounter in northern Syria. These are stock Hondas for training purposes, but for the mission we’ll be making a few adaptations so that they’re better able to carry equipment, and a custom gear setting to give us a higher top speed on open roads.
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