CHERUB: The Sleepwalker - Robert Muchamore Page 0,60

rubbing it in?’

‘Get your arse back on that chair,’ Mac barked, finally losing his cool. ‘Lauren is an experienced agent. This isn’t a game, Jake. This isn’t you hanging around on campus with your mates. Several people ended up seriously hurt, you and Lauren are lucky to have got off relatively unscathed and for all we know the police are going to want to question the pair of you about the fight. If they want to talk to Fahim and it gets back to his father, he won’t let you two anywhere near his house and our mission will be blown before you’ve even got through the front door.’

Jake opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but instead he sobbed, ‘I said I was sorry.’

Lauren had never seen Jake as anything other than Bethany’s annoying kid brother, but seeing him cry made her feel horrible. She remembered how worried she’d been before her first mission and the sense of relief when she didn’t mess up.

‘Can I be excused?’ Jake said, trying to disguise his tears as Mac handed him a square of kitchen towel to wipe his face.

‘Can you sort out the police?’ Lauren asked.

‘I expect so,’ Mac sighed. ‘I’ve already contacted campus and hopefully the officers will get a message from above telling them not to investigate the fight too closely.’

Jake looked sadly at Lauren. ‘Please don’t tell Bethany about this,’ he begged. ‘I don’t want everyone on campus ribbing me.’

After all Jake’s smart-arsed comments, there was part of Lauren that wanted to see him humiliated. But for their mission to work, the two agents had to trust each other.

‘I’ll make you a deal,’ Lauren said. ‘I’ll keep this quiet, but you’ve got to stop acting crazy and start listening to what I say.’

‘OK,’ Jake said, as he rubbed his eye with the back of his hand.

‘We all make mistakes, Jake,’ Mac said, sounding less angry. ‘The important thing is to make sure you learn from them.’

25. CANDY

Lauren met Fahim as he stepped off the bus in his uniform. They had a full hour until school started.

‘Where’s Jake?’ Fahim asked, as they walked towards a workman’s café.

‘Battered ribs,’ Lauren replied. ‘He’s basically OK, but he’s not really up to argy-bargy in school corridors.’

‘Or another encounter with Alom and his crew,’ Fahim smiled.

‘The school called the police, but Mac squished the investigation,’ Lauren explained. ‘Officially, they’re investigating conflicting evidence about the fight. Unofficially, the cops will sit on the evidence for a few days before letting it drop.’

‘Your people can do that?’

Lauren nodded. ‘You can’t stop a murder investigation or something massive like that, but the intelligence services can lean on senior police officers to make sure that our routine break-ins and punch-ups wind up at the bottom of the investigator’s pile.’

‘Did you hear any news about the gang?’ Fahim asked.

‘Jake broke one guy’s jaw and the one Jake kicked unconscious will have a headache for a few days. The others were just cuts and bruises.’

‘The way you two fight,’ Fahim said, smiling admiringly. ‘It must be so cool just walking into a room and knowing that you can annihilate anyone if they give you hassle. If I join CHERUB, how long would it take me to get really good?’

‘You can pick up most techniques with six months of intensive training, but mastering all of them takes years.’

‘Can’t wait,’ Fahim grinned.

‘You probably won’t get in,’ Lauren warned. ‘I’m not trying to be big-headed about myself, but cherubs are hand-picked. As well as basic intelligence, you need to be mentally and physically fit. There’s a big chance you won’t even pass the recruitment tests, let alone basic training.’

‘I know, Lauren. But I want a shot and that’s all I’m asking for.’

‘We can promise you that,’ Lauren said.

The café was a kilometre away from Camden Central and it was crowded out with builders and taxi drivers eating fried breakfasts, but there was enough background noise to hold a quiet conversation without being overheard.

Mac was seated at a table at the rear of the café and Fahim took an instant liking to his bald head and soft Scottish tones.

‘I think this is everything you asked for,’ Mac said, as he slid a laser-printed sheet across the laminate table top.

A waitress took orders for tea and toast as Fahim studied the sheet carefully. As well as a shot at joining CHERUB, the document promised him a new identity and a home with an adopted family. Money would be available for a