back to campus. The twins won’t be happy if they’re back on heavy drill.’
‘You won’t be on campus for long,’ Ning said. ‘James said you need to head over to his flat and meet a guy called Joffrey from MI5. Hand over all the receivers for the listening devices and pack his stuff up in the Ford Focus. Then you’ve gotta drive back to campus and pack your swimming trunks and suntan lotion, because we’re all heading off to the summer hostel. Me included.’
‘I’m confuzzled,’ Ryan admitted. ‘If you don’t know what’s going on, can I at least speak to James?’
‘You’ll be lucky,’ Ning said. ‘He’s just got back to campus, but he’s buzzing about like an over-caffeinated bluebottle, planning some kind of secret mission.’
‘All CHERUB missions are secret,’ Ryan pointed out.
Ning shrugged. ‘Yeah, well this one’s even more secret than usual.’
26. HOSTEL
James hadn’t been to the CHERUB summer hostel in five years. Although it was autumn, the first sunlight caught the water around the Mediterranean island as the fifteen-seat executive jet made a banked turn and aligned with a short landing strip.
‘Happy memories,’ Bruce said, from the seat across the aisle, as he looked at the giant outdoor pool and rows of accommodation huts. These housed over a hundred CHERUB agents for twelve weeks between June and September, but out of season the population dwindled to a husband and wife caretaker and a small security team.
Besides James and Bruce, the little jet carried five agents. Ryan, Ning, Leon, Daniel and Ryan’s chunky best mate, Alfie. There was also a chef, a cleaner, training instructors Capstick and McEwen and two assistant instructors.
Alfie, Ning and the twins had a slide-out table between their seats and a rowdy game of Cards Against Humanity on the go. James was more interested in the fact that he had mobile reception for the first time in two hours.
He picked up three voicemails. The first was from Amy Collins, who’d been James’ mentor when he first arrived at campus thirteen years earlier.
‘Good to hear your message, James,’ Amy’s recorded voice said. ‘But I’m with the FBI now, so I’ve got my own undercover stuff going on and there’s no way I can get out of it.’
‘Amy’s out,’ James told Bruce, his seat juddering as the jet touched down.
The landing strip was short, so everyone got thrown as the pilot used wing flaps and reverse thrust to slow down.
‘Pity,’ Bruce said, as he braced hands against a bulkhead. ‘She’d have been perfect.’
‘I’ve put some other calls in,’ James said.
‘What about the twins, Callum and Connor?’ Bruce suggested.
‘Final year of their masters degrees,’ James explained. ‘They can’t take time out. Gabrielle’s busy. Rat damaged his neck in a racing car last year.’
‘Shakeel?’ Bruce suggested.
James shook his head and laughed. ‘He’s in Brisbane, running some Internet start-up with guys he met at uni. Plus, the last time I saw Shak he’d totally let himself go. Must have weighed more than a hundred kilos.’
‘Really?’ Bruce said. ‘Unbelievable!’
The plane U-turned at the end of the landing strip and taxied back towards a dilapidated hut. A ground attendant in Royal Air Force uniform ran out to place blocks in front of the wheels as the exit swung open.
James was out behind the two instructors and stepped on to the tarmac just as his sister came jogging out of the hut, dressed in shorts and her Rathbone Racing team hat.
‘Thanks for coming,’ James said, as he gave her a hug.
Lauren smiled. ‘Thought I’d come and save your ass one last time.’
James’ mate Kyle was behind and shook Bruce’s hand. ‘Your employers were OK?’ Bruce asked.
Kyle laughed. ‘It’s a charity. They’ve never got any money. My boss wasn’t keen to lose me, but when I mentioned six weeks’ unpaid leave, the finance department practically bit my arm off.’
As Bruce kissed Lauren, James turned his attention to an austere, dark-eyed woman. She was petite but muscular, with black hair curling down her back, and clad in combat shorts and a white vest.
‘Tovah?’ James said, offering a handshake. ‘Thank you so much for coming at short notice.’
Thirty years old, Tovah spoke with a deep Israeli accent. ‘Excited to finally meet you, Mr Adams.’
‘Call me James,’ he said, as Ryan led the rest of the youngsters out of the jet. ‘I can’t thank you and your government enough for your help.’
‘No problem,’ Tovah said, as Bruce closed in.
‘My very good friend Bruce,’ James said, as he shook hands. ‘Bruce, this is Tovah, who absolutely isn’t from the