The Recruit

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘It’s simple, James,’ Arif said. ‘Come on, this is the last bit.’

  A bird squawked. James’ eyes followed it down. Now he saw how high he was and started to panic. The clouds moving made him feel like he was falling.

  ‘I can’t stand it up here,’ James said. ‘I’m gonna puke.’

  Paul grabbed his hand.

  ‘I can’t do it,’ James said.

  ‘Of course you can,’ Paul said. ‘If it was on the ground you wouldn’t break your stride.’

  ‘But it’s not on the bloody ground!’ James shouted.

  James wondered why he was standing twenty metres up, with a headache, an aching thumb, plus dried blood and chicken crap all over him. He thought about how rubbish Nebraska House was and what Sergeant Davies had said about his knack of getting in trouble landing him in prison. The jump was worth the risk. It could change his whole life.

  He took a run up. The plank shuddered as he landed. Arif steadied him. They walked to a balcony with a hand rail on either side.

  ‘Brilliant,’ Arif said. ‘Now there’s only one more bit to go.’

  ‘What?’ James said. ‘You just said that was the last bit. Now we just go down the ladder.’

  James looked. There were two hooks for attaching a rope ladder. But the ladder wasn’t there.

  ‘We’ve got to go all the way back?’ James asked.

  ‘No,’ Arif said. ‘We’ve got to jump.’

  James couldn’t believe it.

  ‘It’s easy, James. Push off as you jump and you’ll hit the crash mat at the bottom.’

  James looked at the muddy blue square on the ground below.

  ‘What about all the branches in the way?’ James asked.

  ‘They’re only thin ones,’ Arif said. ‘Sting like hell if you hit them though.’

  Arif dived first.

  ‘Clear,’ a miniature Arif shouted from the bottom.

  James stood on the end of the plank. Paul shoved him before he could decide for himself. The flight down was amazing. The branches were so close they blurred. He hit the crash mat with a dull thump. The only damage was a cut on his arm where a branch had whipped him.

  *

  James could only swim a couple of strokes before he got scared. He’d had no dad to take him swimming. His mum had avoided the pool because she was fat and everyone laughed at her in a swimming costume. The only time James had been swimming was with his school. Two kids James bullied on dry land had pulled him out of his depth and abandoned him. He’d got dragged out and the instructor had had to pump water out of his lungs. After that James refused to get changed and spent swimming lessons reading a magazine in the changing rooms.

  James stood at the edge of the pool, fully dressed.

  ‘Dive in, get the brick out of the bottom and swim to the other end,’ Mac said.

  James thought about giving it a go. He looked at the shimmering brick and imagined his mouth filled with chlorinated water. He backed away from the pool, queasy with fear.

  ‘I can’t do this one,’ James said. ‘I can’t even swim one width.’

  *

  James was back where he’d started, in front of the fire in Doctor McAfferty’s office.

  ‘So, after the tests, should we offer you a place here?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Probably not, I guess,’ James said.

  ‘You did well on the first test.’

  ‘But I didn’t get a single hit in,’ James said.

  ‘Bruce is a superb martial artist. You would have passed the test if you’d won, of course, but that was unlikely. You retired when you knew you couldn’t win and Bruce threatened you with a serious injury. That was important. There’s nothing heroic about getting seriously injured in the name of pride. Best of all, you didn’t ask to recover before you did the next test and you didn’t complain once about your injuries. That shows you have strength of character and a genuine desire to be a part of CHERUB.’

  ‘Bruce was toying with me, there was no point carrying on,’ James said.

  ‘That’s right, James. In a real fight Bruce could have used a choke-hold that would have left you unconscious or dead if he’d wanted to.

  ‘You also scored decently on the intelligence test. Exceptional on mathematical questions, about average on the verbal. How do you think you did on the third test?’

  ‘I killed the chicken,’ James said.

  ‘But does that mean you passed the test?’

  ‘I thought you asked me to kill it.’

  ‘The chicken is a test of your moral courage. You pass well if you grab the chicken and kill it straight away, or if you say you’re opposed to killing and eating animals and refuse to kill it. I thought you performed poorly. You clearly didn’t want to kill the chicken but you allowed me to bully you into doing it. I’m giving you a low pass because you eventually reached a decision and carried it through. You would have failed if you’d dithered or got upset.’

  James was pleased he’d passed the first three tests.

  ‘The fourth test was excellent. You were timid in places but you got your courage together and made it through the obstacle. Then the final test.’

  ‘I must have failed that,’ James said.

  ‘We knew you couldn’t swim. If you’d battled through and rescued the brick, we would have given you top marks. If you’d jumped in and had to be rescued, that would have shown poor judgement and you would have failed. But you decided the task was beyond your abilities and didn’t attempt it. That’s what we hoped you would do.

  ‘To conclude, James, you’ve done good. I’m happy to offer you a place at CHERUB. You’ll be driven back to Nebraska House and I’ll expect your final decision within two days.’

  11. GO

  James was shut in the back of a van for the first part of the drive back to Nebraska House. Even though he was knackered and the driver wasn’t allowed to talk, he couldn’t sleep. After a couple of hours the driver stopped at motorway services. They both drank nasty tea and used the toilet. James was allowed in the cab for the rest of the journey. He read the first road sign he saw; they were near Birmingham, heading towards London. It wasn’t much of a clue about where CHERUB was. James reckoned they’d already gone more than a hundred kilometres.

  It was three in the morning when James arrived back at Nebraska. The entrance was locked. James rang the doorbell and waited ages. A house parent shone a torch in James’ face before unbolting the door.

  ‘Where on earth have you been?’

  It hadn’t occurred to James that CHERUB had taken him without telling anyone. He scrambled for an excuse.

  ‘I went for a walk,’ James said.

  ‘For twenty-six hours?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘Get to bed, James. We’ll deal with you in the morning.’

  Nebraska looked even dingier after CHERUB. James crept into his room, but Kyle woke up anyway.

  ‘Hey, Einstein,’ Kyle said. ‘Where’ve you been?’

  ‘Go back to sleep,’ James said.

  ‘I heard about your adventure in the off-licence. Ten out of ten for being a dumbass.’

  James gave his nose a blast of some pain relief spray CHERUB had given him and started undressing.

  ‘Can’t say you didn’t warn me,’ James said.

  ‘Vince is crapping himself,’ Kyle said. ‘He reckons you grassed him up and they’ve moved you to another home for protection.’

  ‘I never grassed,’ James said. ‘I’ve got to get him back though.’

  ‘Don’t mess, James. He’ll cut you up if you give him an excuse.’

  *

  Rachel shook James awake.

  ‘What are you still doing here, James? It’s ten-thirty. You should be in school.’

  James sat up and rubbed his face. His nose was tender. At least the headache was gone.

  ‘I didn’t get in until gone three this morning.’

  ‘Bit young to be out clubbing, aren’t you?’

  ‘I just um…�
��

  James still couldn’t think of a decent excuse for turning up at 3 a.m.

  ‘I want you in school uniform and out of the door in twenty minutes.’

  ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘Whose fault is that?’

  ‘I’m sick,’ James said, pointing at his nose.

  ‘Fighting, I suppose?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How then?’

  ‘I think I must have slept in a funny position.’

  Rachel started laughing.

  ‘James, I’ve heard some excuses in my time, but a swollen nose and a black eye from sleeping in a funny position is the worst ever.’

  ‘I’ve got a black eye?’

  ‘A shiner.’

  James explored the tender area under his eye with his fingers. He’d always wanted a black eye, they looked cool.

  ‘Can I see the nurse?’ James asked hopefully.

  ‘We don’t have a nurse here. There’s one at West Road School, though.’

  ‘Please let me off school, Rachel. I’m dying.’

  ‘You’ve been here for three weeks, James. You’ve been cautioned by the police, arrested for stealing beer, we’ve had a complaint from school about your behaviour in class and now you disappear for a day and a half. We’re pretty lax here, but we have to draw a line somewhere. Get your uniform on. If you want to complain, go and see the superintendent.’

  *

  James was putting his schoolbooks in his backpack when Jennifer Mitchum came in.

  ‘Aren’t you too tired for school, James?’

  ‘Rachel’s making me go.’

  Jennifer locked the door and sat on Kyle’s bed.

  ‘Those tests are exhausting, aren’t they?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I know where you were, James. I was one of the people who recommended you.’

  ‘The last thing I remember is being in your office upstairs. Was it you that gave me the injection to make me sleep?’

  Jennifer smiled. ‘Guilty as charged … So have you thought about joining CHERUB?’

  ‘It’s so much better than here. I can’t see any reason not to go.’

  ‘It is a fantastic opportunity. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there.’

  ‘You were in CHERUB?’ James asked.

  ‘Back in the Stone Age. My mother and father died in a gas explosion. I was recruited from a children’s home, just like you.’

  ‘You went spying and everything?’

  ‘Twenty-four missions. Enough to earn my black shirt.’

  ‘What’s that?’ James asked.

  ‘Did you notice everyone at CHERUB was wearing different colour T-shirts?’

  ‘Yeah. Nobody would talk to me because I was wearing orange.’

  ‘An orange shirt is for guests. You need clearance from Mac to talk to a guest. The red shirt is for younger kids being educated on the CHERUB campus. When they reach ten years old they can do basic training and become agents if they choose to. The pale blue shirt is for trainees. When you qualify you get the grey shirt. After that, you can go dark, which means you get awarded the navy T-shirt after an outstanding performance on a mission or missions. The real high flyers get awarded the black shirt, which is for outstanding performance over a large number of missions.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘It could be three or four really outstanding missions, it might take ten. The Chairman decides. The last shirt is the white one, that’s for staff and old girls like me.’

  ‘So you still work for CHERUB?’ James asked.

  ‘No, I work for Camden Council, but when I see someone like you I make a recommendation. I’d like to give one warning before you decide, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Life on the campus will be hard to begin with. You have to learn a lot of skills and CHERUB needs you to learn them before you’re too old to use them. Everyone will seem better than you at everything. How do you think you’ll cope with that?’

  ‘I want to try,’ James said. ‘When I got arrested the other night the policeman said kids like me get out of their depth and end up in prison. It freaked me out when he said it because that’s exactly what always happens. I never try to get in trouble, but somehow I always do.’

  ‘So would you like longer to think, or shall I ring CHERUB and tell them you’re coming?’

  ‘I’ve got nothing to think about,’ James said.

  *

  James was being picked up at three, leaving tons of time to get packed. He felt a bit sorry for Kyle. He was a nice kid who deserved more from life than a crummy room at Nebraska House and three quid a week pocket money. James peeled two £50 notes out of his wad and stuck them under Kyle’s bedcovers. He scribbled a quick note.

  Kyle,

  You’ve been a mate. Moving to another home.

  James.

  Kyle came in the door. James panicked; he was crap at making excuses.

  ‘What time’s our pick-up?’ Kyle asked.

  ‘What?’ James asked.

  ‘You heard. When’s the bus to CHERUB?’

  ‘They recruited you as well?’

  ‘When I was eight.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ James said.

  Kyle started pulling everything out of his wardrobe.

  ‘Four months ago I was on a mission for CHERUB in the Caribbean. I put something I shouldn’t have been touching back in the wrong place. The bad guys noticed, got suspicious and disappeared. Nobody knows where. Two years’ work for a dozen MI5* agents down the toilet. All thanks to me.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with you living here?’ James asked.

  ‘I wasn’t exactly the golden boy when I got back to CHERUB, so they sent me on a recruitment mission.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Bingo, James. Stuck in this dump trying to find another kid to join CHERUB. Jennifer thought you looked the type when she saw your school record. She made sure you got this room so I could evaluate you.’

  ‘So what you told me about your parents and stuff was lies?’

  Kyle smiled. ‘Hundred per cent fiction, sorry … You wanted to get Vince back. Did you have a plan?’

  ‘You said stay away from him.’

  ‘I hate him,’ Kyle said. ‘He was in a foster home and picked a fight with a seven-year-old. Threw him off a roof and broke his back. The kid’s in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘You know where they keep the spare sand for the kiddies’ pit?’ Kyle asked.

  ‘Under the stairs.’

  ‘Get two bags. I’ll meet you outside Vince’s room.’

  ‘It’ll be locked,’ James said.

  ‘I can deal with that.’

  James struggled upstairs with the sand. Kyle had picked Vince’s lock and was already in his room.

  ‘I thought you were a slob until I saw this,’ Kyle said.

  Vince and his little brother Paul weren’t big on housekeeping. There were dirty clothes, magazines and CDs everywhere.

  ‘It’s a normal boys’ bedroom,’ James said.

  ‘It’s not going to be for long. Start tipping the sand everywhere, I’ll find some liquid.’

  James put sand in the beds, drawers and desks. Kyle smuggled catering size bottles of Pepsi out of the kitchen. They shook each bottle up so it exploded when the lid came off. When they finished everything was soaked in gritty brown sludge.

  James laughed. ‘I’d love to see his face.’

  ‘We’ll be long gone. Want to see what’s in his locker?’

  Kyle pulled a metal object out of his pocket.

  ‘What’s that?’ James asked.

  ‘It’s a lock gun. Does most locks. You’ll learn to use it in basic training.’

  ‘Cool,’ James said.

  Kyle slid the gun into Vince’s padlock and wriggled it until the metal door sprung open.

  ‘Girlie mags,’ Kyle said.

  Kyle tipped the magazines on to the floor.

  ‘Hang
on.’

  ‘What?’ James asked.

  ‘Look at these.’

  There was a row of savage-looking knives in the bottom of the locker.

  ‘I’ll be confiscating these,’ Kyle said. ‘Get me something to wrap them in.’

  ‘Everything’s soaked.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Kyle said. ‘I can hardly walk down the corridor with that lot in my hand.’

  James found a sweatshirt under Paul’s bed that only had a bit of sand on it. Kyle bundled up the knives.

  ‘OK, James, how long to pick-up?’

  ‘Twenty minutes.’

  ‘Twenty minutes too long,’ Kyle said. ‘I hate this dump.’

  * * *

  * MI5 is the adult branch of British Intelligence.

  12. NAME

  James sat in Meryl Spencer’s office wearing CHERUB uniform with the pale blue trainee T-shirt. Meryl was James’ handler at CHERUB. She’d won a sprint medal for Kenya at the Atlanta Olympics and taught athletics on campus. Her legs looked like they could break rocks.

  Meryl held James’ safety deposit key in the air over the desk between them.

  ‘Not many kids come in with one of these,’ Meryl said.

  ‘I got it when my mum died,’ James said. ‘I don’t know what’s inside the box.’

  ‘I see,’ Meryl said suspiciously. ‘We’ll keep the key safe for you. What about the cash Kyle found in your room?’

  James was prepared for questions about his cash. He’d realised Kyle had been through all his stuff when he saw him crack Vince’s locker.

  ‘It was my mum’s,’ James said.

  ‘How much is there?’ Meryl asked.

  ‘There was four thousand. But I’ve spent a couple of hundred.’

  ‘Just four thousand?’

  Meryl reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a green circuit board and a tangle of electrical wires. James recognised them from when he’d ripped them out of his cassette player.

  ‘Oh,’ James said. ‘You know about that?’

  Meryl nodded.