The Recruit

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘Is the headmistress really mad?’ James asked.

  ‘I called her back pretending to be one of your old teachers and I think I smoothed things over. I said you were mischievous but basically harmless.’

  ‘You said I was allowed to get suspended.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ewart said. ‘But I didn’t expect you to dunk a kid’s head in a vat of baked beans. He’s apparently got a nasty burn on his nose.’

  ‘Sorry,’ James said, trying not to laugh.

  ‘Sorry solves nothing,’ Ewart shouted. ‘What time did you get back to Fort Harmony?’

  ‘Just now. About half seven.’

  ‘Have you seen Clark and Sebastian today?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You know why, I was with Joanna.’

  ‘The mission is about Sebastian and Clark, not your little girlfriend. I’ve told Cathy to ground you for getting suspended from school. You can’t leave Fort Harmony for a week.’

  ‘But what about Joanna?’ James asked.

  ‘Tough,’ Ewart said. ‘Focus on your mission. You mess up like this again and I’ll have you back at CHERUB scrubbing toilets on your hands and knees.’

  ‘I’ve got to see Joanna, please,’ James begged.

  ‘Don’t wind me up, James, I’m in no mood. There’s two things for you to keep an eye out for. In your photos of Bungle’s shack there’s a white folder with a RKM logo on the side. It’s on the bottom of the bookshelf under the window. Try and get a look at it. It looks like a computer manual, but Bungle doesn’t have a computer. It might give us a clue what they’re up to. Second, look out for a red van. Amy spotted Fire and World getting out of it, but couldn’t get the whole number plate. Got all that?’

  ‘Yes, Ewart,’ James said miserably.

  ‘Start using your brain, James.’

  James heard the line go dead. He punched the dashboard, ran back to his bed and yelled into his pillow.

  ‘What happened?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ James said.

  ‘It can’t be so bad, Ross. You got out of school.’

  ‘He said I can’t go down to the village and see Joanna.’

  ‘You know we’ll only be here for a few weeks,’ Amy said. ‘I wouldn’t get too fond of her.’

  James got off his bed, put his boots on and walked out into the dark.

  He lay in the long grass down the bottom of the hill and didn’t care that his clothes got soaked. He thought about sneaking down to the village to see Joanna, but he wasn’t brave enough to mess with Ewart. If Ewart sent him back to campus in disgrace he’d never get another decent mission.

  James wanted to go back to the hut, but Amy would be there with a lecture waiting. He thought about finding Sebastian and Clark, but he didn’t want to spend all night shooting the local wildlife. So he stayed where he was, sulking.

  *

  James heard an animal or something running through the grass around him. He looked up and saw it was two radio-controlled cars. Electric ones. The only noise was rustling as they brushed the grass. He spotted the chromed radio control aerials reflecting moonlight. World and Scargill had them. After a couple of quick circuits they picked the cars up, pulled up their sweatshirt hoods and jogged away.

  James decided it was too risky to follow. He crawled through the mud towards where Scargill and World had been standing and almost fell into a hole. It was one of the old tunnels. James grabbed his mobile and called Amy.

  ‘Where are you?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Down near the road, something weird is going on.’

  James explained everything.

  ‘The tunnel has a door with a padlock on it,’ James said. ‘I don’t have my lock gun.’

  ‘I’ll be five minutes,’ Amy said. ‘Do nothing. If they come back, say you were just exploring.’

  Amy ran down to James, keeping herself low to the ground. She shone a torch into the hole and quickly shut it off again.

  ‘They could be back any minute,’ Amy said. ‘You any good with the lock gun?’

  ‘OK,’ James said.

  ‘Got your camera?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Go have a look,’ Amy said. ‘Take as many pictures as you can and get out fast.’

  ‘Will you keep look-out?’ James asked.

  ‘No. If they catch you, say the lock was left off and you just walked inside. Me sitting out here looks suspicious. I’ll keep back unless something starts getting heavy.’

  James took Amy’s torch and lock gun and dropped into the hole. There was a deep puddle in the bottom. The padlock was easy. Inside was three metres of wood-lined tunnel with a low room at the end. James crawled down and started taking pictures. There wasn’t much to see. Shelves of radio-controlled cars and spares, and a workbench with an orange plastic tub underneath. James opened every drawer and took pictures inside.

  James turned to leave, half-convinced someone would be behind him. Nobody was. He scrambled back down the tunnel, shut the padlock and ran uphill to Amy.

  ‘Sweet,’ Amy said. ‘See anything?’

  ‘Toy cars and junk. Hard to see with the torch.’

  ‘The flash on the camera will pick up more than you saw in the dark,’ Amy said. ‘Maybe something will turn up on the photos.’

  ‘There must be stuff worth hiding in there,’ James said. ‘Otherwise they wouldn’t bother keeping it secret.’

  ‘I’m gonna stick around and see if they come back,’ Amy said. ‘You go up to the hut and ring Ewart. Arrange to meet him somewhere. He’ll want to look at the pictures straight away.’

  *

  After he’d met Ewart, James went back to the hut and fell asleep. He got the best sleep he’d had in ages, without Amy there snoring.

  Amy shook James awake at 2 a.m. She looked happy.

  ‘It’s all going down, James. Fire came to the workshop. You were nearly caught, only missed him by about three minutes. He took a big backpack of stuff out and walked off. I followed him up the hill to Green Brooke. You’ll never guess what the radio-controlled cars are for.’

  ‘What?’ James asked.

  ‘They have a storage tray. They load them up with stuff and push them through a tiny gap in the security fence around Green Brooke. They drive the cars inside the fence and drop the cargo at the back of the conference hall. The cars are too small and fast to get detected by the security cameras and alarms.’

  ‘Couldn’t they book a room and bring the stuff into the hotel?’ James asked.

  ‘Every guest brings luggage into Green Brooke hotel,’ Amy said. ‘But the conference hall is under police guard until Petrocon starts. Everyone gets searched on the way in. There’s X-ray machines. All your bags get turned out, they pat you down and go in your pockets.’

  ‘So,’ James said. ‘They’re smuggling a bomb into the conference hall, bit by bit, on the back of radio-controlled cars. There must be someone working on the inside screwing all the pieces together.’

  ‘Must be. I spoke to Ewart. They’re sending people down to look at the stuff the cars dropped, but they won’t take it away. They want to see who comes and picks it up.’

  James laughed. ‘They’re gonna lock those guys up and throw away the key.’

  ‘Poor Scargill,’ Amy said.

  ‘You don’t actually like that freak, do you?’ James asked.

  Amy shrugged. ‘I feel sorry for him. He’s just a lonely kid trying to impress his big brothers. The tough guys in prison will eat him for breakfast.’

  ‘You do like him,’ James laughed. ‘He’s the world’s biggest nerd.’

  ‘You’re such a twelve-year-old sometimes, James,’ Amy said. ‘You’ve never even had a conversation with Scargill. There’s more to a guy than looking good and having big muscles.’

  ‘Marry him and get it over with,’ James said. ‘So what happens next?’

  ‘Nothing changes. We keep our ears to the ground and see what comes up. Ewart wants you to concentrate
on Bungle and Eleanor. We know they’re involved, but there’s still no proof.’

  37. BUG

  Amy shook James awake. It was still dark.

  ‘Get dressed now,’ Amy snapped. ‘I just had Ewart on the phone. He’s coming to get us.’

  James rubbed his eyes. Amy was on one leg, stepping into a pair of ripped jeans.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Amy said. ‘Ewart said our lives are in danger if we don’t get out fast.’

  James put on jeans and trainers. He grabbed his jacket and dashed after Amy. Cathy woke up and asked what was going on. She didn’t get an answer. They ran to the bottom of the hill where the BMW was waiting.

  ‘Both of you in the back,’ Ewart said.

  The tyres squealed. Ewart was in a major hurry about something. He threw some medical supplies at Amy.

  ‘Give James four tablets and two shots in the arm. You OK with injections, Amy?’

  ‘In theory,’ Amy said.

  Branches thrashed the side of the car as it sped down an unlit country lane.

  ‘What’s wrong with me?’ James asked nervously.

  ‘Get your coat off,’ Amy said.

  She squeezed four pills out of their blisters and handed them to James. James looked at the box. It was an antibiotic called Ciprofloxacin.

  ‘I need water to swallow them,’ James said.

  ‘None here,’ Ewart said. ‘Forgot. Ball up some spit. The faster they’re in your system the better.’

  James’ mouth was dry from running. It took a while to get the tablets down.

  ‘I can’t hold the needle still while the car’s moving,’ Amy said.

  Ewart stamped the brakes and pulled into the side of the lane. Amy roughly stabbed James with the first needle. It hurt like hell.

  ‘Have you ever done that before?’ James asked.

  Amy didn’t answer and punched him with the second jab. Ewart hit the accelerator.

  ‘Will you tell me what the hell is going on?’ James shouted.

  ‘It wasn’t a bomb they were building,’ Ewart said. ‘It was a bio-weapon. The radio-controlled cars were carrying cylinders of bacteria.’

  ‘Oh, god,’ Amy said. ‘It’s obvious now you say it. Bungle was a microbiology professor. Fire and World studied biology at university. They’d know all about that stuff.’

  ‘It all fell into place at once,’ Ewart said. ‘The best way to spread a disease through a large building is the air-conditioning. I checked out the van Amy saw. It belongs to a man who services the air-conditioning at Green Brooke. Then there was the folder with the RKM logo in Bungle’s hut. I thought it was a computer manual, but RKM also make air conditioners.’

  ‘What is it?’ Amy asked.

  ‘The police haven’t analysed the cylinders,’ Ewart said. ‘But anthrax is most likely.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Amy said.

  ‘I don’t understand half what you two are on about,’ James said. ‘Can one of you speak to me in English?’

  ‘Do you know what anthrax is, James?’ Ewart asked.

  ‘No idea, but I’m guessing it’s not good and you think I’ve got it.’

  ‘Anthrax is a unique disease. Most diseases can only survive outside your body for about eight minutes,’ Ewart explained. ‘Anthrax can survive in almost any temperature for up to sixty years. That makes it easy to store and use as a weapon. A cupful of anthrax spores in the air could kill hundreds of people.’

  ‘How did I get it?’ James asked.

  ‘You might not have it,’ Ewart said. ‘The antibiotics are a precaution. Remember the bright orange box under the bench in the underground workshop?’

  ‘Yeah,’ James said.

  ‘It’s a sealed disposal unit for toxic waste. You’re supposed to incinerate it in a two-thousand-degree furnace.’

  ‘I pulled the lid off and stuck my hand inside,’ James said.

  ‘Unfortunately you did,’ Ewart said. ‘I’ve got a picture you took of the contents. Gave me a heart attack when I saw it. Looks like the gloves and face masks they used when they were handling the anthrax bacteria ended up in there.’

  ‘Could I die?’ James asked.

  ‘I’ve got to be honest, James. If you breathed the bacteria you’re in trouble. Even with the antibiotics we’ve given you there’s a fifty per cent death rate.’

  ‘Could I have given it to Amy or anyone?’ James asked.

  ‘It’s possible some bacteria stuck on your fingers, but the disease is only serious if you breathe thousands of spores. They’ll check out Amy at the hospital to be safe.’

  ‘If I die,’ James asked, ‘how long will it take?’

  ‘It starts off like the flu about a day after infection. Most people die within nine days.’

  ‘What hospital are we driving to?’ Amy asked.

  ‘There’s a military hospital near Bristol, about seventy kilometres away,’ Ewart said. ‘They’ve got a doctor flying in from Manchester. He knows as much about anthrax as anyone on the planet.’

  *

  Four nurses in army uniform grabbed James out of the car and stuck him on a trolley, even though he could walk. They burst through doors. Lights on the ceiling whizzed by. James spotted Meryl Spencer and Mac running behind the trolley. They had flown from CHERUB by helicopter.

  The nurses wheeled James into a huge ward. There were thirty beds in three rows, all empty. A male nurse pulled James’ trainers and socks off, then grabbed his jeans and boxers down in one. James was embarrassed because Amy, Ewart, Meryl and everyone were standing around watching. Once James was naked they lifted him on to a bed.

  ‘Hello, James. I’m Doctor Coen.’

  The doctor looked like he’d been dragged out of bed. He wore Nikes, jogging bottoms and a shirt with the buttons done up in the wrong holes.

  ‘Has the disease been explained to you?’ the doctor asked.

  ‘Mostly,’ James said. ‘Do I need thirty people standing around looking at me naked?’

  Dr Coen smiled. ‘You heard the patient.’

  Everyone but three nurses and a couple of doctors headed out. Dr Coen continued:

  ‘First we need to take blood samples and see if you’ve been infected with anthrax. However, if you have the disease your chances of survival decrease with every minute treatment is delayed, so we’re going to assume the worst and begin treatment now. A nurse will fix a tube into your arm. We’re going to pump you with a mixture of antibiotics and other drugs. Some of the drugs are toxic. Your body will react violently. You can expect vomiting and fever.’

  *

  Amy and Meryl stayed by James’ bed. He started feeling weak and shaky a couple of hours after treatment started. His face went pale and he asked for something to throw up in.

  Amy went outside looking upset. Meryl gripped his hand.

  It got worse in the hours that followed. James’ stomach and ribcage felt like they were tearing apart. The tiniest movement, even a deep breath or a cough, made his vision blur and a wave of nausea shoot up from his stomach. The two Army nurses wiped up every time he got sick. When he got really bad they injected him with anti-vomiting drugs.

  The wait for test results was unbearable. James wanted to pass out or fall asleep. He watched the door, silently praying for Dr Coen to come back with good news. James wondered if this room might be the last thing he ever saw.

  *

  Doctor Coen didn’t come back until 8 a.m. on Thursday.

  ‘It’s bad,’ Dr Coen said. ‘We just got the results from your tests. We’ll keep giving you the drugs.’

  38. DEATH

  James woke up. He’d been in the hospital thirty hours. A drip ran up his nose and down into his stomach. Meryl had stayed the whole time.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Meryl asked.

  ‘Weak,’ James croaked; the tube down his throat made it hard to speak.

  ‘The doctor says the level of bacteria in your system is going down. The antibiotics are working.’


  ‘What are my chances?’ James asked.

  ‘Dr Coen said over eighty per cent because the treatment started so early.’

  ‘I feel so rough I wish I was dead.’

  ‘Lauren’s here,’ Meryl said.

  ‘Is she OK?’

  Meryl shrugged. ‘Pretty shook up. She waited all day for you to come around. She’s sleeping upstairs.’

  ‘Me dying, after Mum and that,’ James said. ‘She’ll be in a right state.’

  Meryl stroked the back of James’ hand.

  ‘You won’t die,’ she said. ‘Fort Harmony has been in all the papers. Headline news.’

  Meryl handed James a Daily Mirror. He could see the giant headline, but his vision was too blurry to read the text.

  ‘Read it to me,’ James said.

  ‘It’s the main story on TV,’ Meryl said. ‘Bungle’s picture was on the cover of every paper. There’s all kinds of rumours about where he’s gone.’

  ‘I feel sorry for their little boy,’ James said, ‘He’s only three.’

  *

  Mac came into the ward an hour later. Lauren was with him, dressed in pyjamas. She jumped on the bed and gave James a hug. She looked like she’d just heard the funniest joke ever.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ Lauren squealed. ‘Thanks for scaring me.’

  ‘What are you on about?’ James asked.

  ‘James,’ Mac said. ‘Have you spoken to Doctor Coen yet?’

  James shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘We just found out that the bacteria in your system is harmless,’ Mac said. ‘Scargill Dunn claimed they were using a weak strain of anthrax. They were only going to use the bad stuff on the day of the conference. A laboratory in London rechecked your blood sample and the anthrax inside you couldn’t kill a flea.’

  James let out a big smile.