comes out of that investigation isn’t what’s best for you or for CHERUB, but whatever’s good for Ewart bloody Asker.’
James wasn’t sure what to think. Maybe Ewart had set Mr Pike up, but the incident must have taken place more than fifteen years ago and they’d both been kids. It hardly seemed like grounds for believing that Ewart would do the same to him. And what did Ewart even have to gain by stitching him up?
‘You know what?’ Pike grinned, as he pulled a blue plastic card out of his wallet and handed it to James. ‘That’s for the mission preparation building, full access.’
‘What am I supposed to do with it?’
‘The mission controllers don’t usually work late,’ Pike explained. ‘Go into Ewart’s office and have a good snoop around.’
James tentatively grabbed the card. ‘I dunno, sir.’
‘You only get one shot at a CHERUB career,’ Pike said. ‘Ewart ruined mine; don’t let him do it to you.’
‘Thanks,’ James said, as he tucked the card in his pocket.
‘Just be careful,’ Mr Pike said. ‘I could lose my job for giving you that. If they catch you, I’ll have to say that I lost it.’
26. ESCAPE
The Aldrington Care Centre’s newest resident was a four-year-old lad named Carl. He’d arrived the night before, sporting ragged clothes, a swollen right eye and a layer of filth. After a thorough scrubbing, a night’s sleep and a morning being interviewed by police, Carl was allowed to explore his temporary home and found Lauren killing time on the Playstation in the living-room.
She felt sorry for the gloomy youngster and was happy to break the monotony by entertaining him. After some games of snap and a few laps chasing around the sofa, they put on coats and gloves and headed to the play area outside the unit. The young lad clearly hadn’t spent much of his short life in playgrounds and got ridiculously excited, screaming and laughing as he bounced on the seesaw and begged Lauren to push faster on the swings and roundabout.
She was following him up the steps of a slide when her mobile rang. She didn’t recognise the number on the display, but the call was coming from Britain.
‘Hello, are you Anna’s friend?’ the man asked. He spoke in Russian, but it wasn’t Mr Broushka and there was a lot of background noise, like he was travelling in a car or train.
‘I am,’ Lauren said. ‘But she’s not here. She’s at school.’
Carl slid down as Lauren sat at the top of the metal ramp.
‘That doesn’t matter,’ the man said. ‘I wanted to talk to you anyway.’
‘Me? What about?’
‘Anna won’t talk to us. We’d really like to speak to her. She’s got it into her head that we want to hurt her, but she’s mixed up. We’re her people, she needs to be with us.’
Lauren heard a second voice, speaking in English away from the phone. ‘Got it.’
‘Sorry to trouble you,’ the first speaker said abruptly. ‘I’ve got to go now. I’ll call back later when Anna’s out of school.’
The phone went dead before Lauren could answer.
‘Come down,’ Carl demanded, as he looked up at her from the base of the slide.
Lauren pushed herself off, but her phone was ringing again before she’d reached the bottom.
‘Lauren,’ John said urgently. ‘We’ve got a big problem. A tracking request was sent during your call and the local cell responded just before they hung up.’
‘You mean those guys know where I am?’
‘They know which radio cell your phone is operating within, so only to within a couple of kilometres,’ John explained, as Carl balanced himself on Lauren’s trainer. ‘It’s more primitive than the triangulation system that we can use to track mobiles.’
Lauren patted the youngster on the head. ‘Play on your own for a minute, Carl.’
‘Who’s that?’ John asked.
‘Just a little kid I was messing about with. How did they trace my phone?’
‘Probably through an online location service. You’re supposed to have permission from the person who owns the phone – like for parents who want to track where their kids are – but you can usually get around it by making a false declaration when you sign up.’
‘At least they can only pinpoint us to within a two-kilometre radius.’
‘But they know you’re in a children’s home,’ John explained. ‘All they’ve got to do is look up children’s homes in a local services directory. I’m not sure but ACC is probably the only one around here.’
‘Do you think they’re coming after Anna?’ Lauren gasped.
‘Definitely,’ John said. ‘Why else would they