Well, it is the early hours of the morning and I have finished the somethingth chapter! Yay! Sorry if there are a few typos ... I'm not really functioning very well at the moment and can't bring myself to read over this extraordinarily long chapter any more.

SO ... Enjoy.


ALEX POV

The next Monday at school, Alex was in a slightly better mood. He'd not been woken by nightmares the night before, which meant he was not only not exhausted, but he was also incredibly relieved.

Unsurprisingly, Andrea wasn't in class. Mark was, and Alex caught him staring at him a few times. Ugly staring. Bad staring. Evil staring. It was weird.

But overall he did not make any progress during the morning. The others were all busy with their "friends", gathering information, but so far the arson of the chemicals research shed had only just been released to press. A majority of the school didn't even know about it, let alone have any interesting or incriminating evidence against their own parents. Which was ever so slightly discouraging.

The thing about school, was that Alex was technically only here to keep up with his work. Which was more than he could say for most missions. However, him being on a mission at the time, he couldn't help but feel almost subconsciously confused. After all, in missions he was usually deeply undercover, infiltrating a criminal organisation and fending for his life. In school, he was avoiding homework, drifting in and out of various states of consciousness in lessons, ignoring stares and mucking around with Tom. Obviously Tom wasn't here now, and any stares had subsided since his first week, but even so trying to mash the two together was proving difficult. Occasionally he had to switch right back to "Mission Mode", sneaking around, trying to piece together evidence and still getting his assignment on Neo-Classicism in on time. It was a contradiction, to say the least. At least the CHERUBs seemed to be used to it: as far as Alex could tell, this was basically all they did on missions. Lucky-ducks.

And of course quite a few of the things that sent Alex into spy mode had to happen during school. Alex was sitting in English (where else?) when he happened to glance out the window and spot a crane moving along the road outside the school at quite a slow pace. He had to double-take before he actually took it in. A crane? What on earth ...

He glanced over at Mark's seat, making sure the strange boy hadn't noticed his reaction - it may have been nothing but Alex was getting to be suspicious of him - but was surprised to find the spot empty. Mark had definitely been in school at the start of the day ... where could he have gotten to after lunch? And why was a crane in a town where nothing was supposed to happen? And why had SCORPIA helped to blow up a chemical testing shed? And why was everybody staring at him? ... Oh, right.

'The personification of the tree.' Alex said quickly, and the teacher, temporarily appeased, turned back to the blackboard.


JAMES POV

Being friends with Max Norway was really starting to bug James.

Firstly, they had to spend every lunchtime in the library.

Secondly, James had to pay attention in class to keep up this "smart" reputation.

Thirdly, the rest of the CHERUBs and Alex would not stop taking the mickey out of him for it.

Fourthly ... must he go on?

It was basically annoying. Very. Annoying.

So when sticking around and putting up with it all finally paid off, James was ecstatic to say the least. Not that he could let on about that in front of the nerd himself. The guy was alright, but ... he just had no social awareness whatsoever, and no concept of fun. The word was as foreign to Max Norway as 'library' had been to James just a few weeks before.

It all happened one lunchtime in ... the library. Surprise, surprise. Max was flicking absentmindedly through a book on Poetry for an assignment they had to do (which reminded James; he should probably get started ... eugh. Doing all this homework was indescribably infuriating,) when James noticed a scab on the boy's leg. It looked pretty painful, too.

'Hey, Max - where's that from? It looks sore.' James said, keeping his voice low. All these lunchtimes in the library had taught him that Silence was Golden in a place like this. Max glanced down at his leg, seemingly unconcerned.

'Oh - nothing. I was carrying a box and dropped it. It scraped against my leg, that's all.'

'A box?'

'Yeah - we had to pack up the basement the other week at home; I was helping my dad.'

James didn't really expect this to go anywhere, but he knew a possible revelation when he saw one. Might as well look into it. 'Why were you packing up the basement?'

Max hesitated. Bingo, James thought. 'Well - we had to use it for storage. Dad needed to keep some stuff from his work at home.'

'Why didn't his work have storage? What was it, stationary and stuff? What does your dad do, anyway?' James knew he shouldn't be firing off all these questions. It was too obvious. But he tried to make up for that by acting like he was clueless. Which, in a sense, he was. But it wouldn't hurt to overdo it a bit, surely.

'Oh, he's a business manager at Bryson's Shipping Ground - you know, near the edge of town? He had to keep some stuff in the basement because a client of Mr Bryson couldn't pick it up right away. It's really inconveniant, actually. The basement used to be a place I could go to clear my head, and now I'm not allowed down there.'

'Surely there'd be enough room?' James said casually, trying to act as if it really wasn't that interesting to him. He picked up a random book, pretending to be interested in it, but hurriedly put it back once he realised it was Pride and Prejudice. Max hadn't caught the blunder, thankfully. The boy might be a complete social trainwreck, but he was able to recognise that something was slightly odd about a boy like James - even a smart boy like James - reading an old classic. Eugh.

Max shrugged uneasily. It seemed this conversation was steering a little bit too far into private territory for the notorious goody-two-shoes. 'Erm - well, I guess dad just doesn't want me breaking whatever it is that's being stored there ... I mean, he made it sound like the client was pretty important.'

James glanced at Max. He'd added the poetry book to the growing pile next to him on the floor and was now perusing a John Keats' collection. James resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and was briefly reminded about Alex's weird twitch that afternoon when they'd arrived. This then lead his mind - his easily distracted mind - to recall the information discovered that afternoon. Max's dad had apparently been going through Bryson's computer with Reynolds ... why? James changed the topic from the mysterious contents of the Norway basement, much to the obvious relief of Max.

'So what does your dad actually do at the ship-place, or wherever it is, as a business manager?' Acting clueless was a lot easier than James would have previously expected ... 'Is he like administrative or something, or does he help move stuff around?'

'I'm not entirely sure. He handles clients and stuff, I think ... sometimes he's had them home for lunch or something; but usually when I'm in school so I don't usually meet whoever it is. That's why we have to have a cleaner, because we never really know when some millionaire is about to "pop round" for tea and cakes.' Max obviously didn't get the opportunity to explain this often, and in Jame's opinion he was having quite a bit of fun being in the spotlight. He subsequently got a bit carried away. 'This particular guy was really important, I think. Dad was so paranoid about the packages getting damaged in some way that he locked the door and wouldn't let us in. He'd go down to check on them and stay there for hours - he even set up a temporary office or something so he could keep an eye on the stuff and keep up with his work! It was a bit weird, actually ...'

'Don't worry, I understand. My mum's a complete workaholic; or a least when she has a job.' James added, remembering how they were supposed to be pretty badly off. 'She would probably be the same if money relied on some rich guy's delivery. You wouldn't happen to have overheard the guy's name, or something, would you? I might have heard of him.' James realised he'd been talking for longer than he'd planned and stopped. If this so-called "client" was who he thought it was ...

'I saw it on a letter - a name. I don't know if it was the client but dad got pretty possessive of it so I thought it might be. The name on it was foreign of something: Yrev Revelc. I'd never heard of him. Have you?'

James shook his head slowly, racking his brains for some hint or recognition, but there was none. Not only had he never heard of the man, the name had absolutely no implications of Help Earth or SCORPIA. What could it mean? Was the client just some wealthy foreigner; completely uninvolved in any form of conspiracy? Or was something else going on behind the scenes?


'Okay, okay, okay. So we all discovered stuff today. Let's be mature about it all, shall we?' Zara's impatient voice cut across the tiny kitchen of the house and the voices began to die down. 'Alex, grab a pen and paper. You're scribing.' Zara continued, very much in control. This was one of the moments when it was clear why she was a CHERUB mission controller. She certainly was good at keeping everybody focused on the task at hand. Alex muttered something about always being made the scribe in these situations and sauntered off to fetch the requested items. Once he was back and seated at the kitchen table, pen poised in a remarkably (and slightly humourously) professional manner, Zara spoke again. 'Kerry, you first. What did you find out?'

After all of literally two minutes, the list compiled of all the information known about the mission was quite impressive.

SCORPIA/HELP EARTH CHEMICAL SHED SMACKDOWN (As the assorted CHERUB boys had insisted they refer to the mission from then onwards, claiming it to be "in code". Zara was left to marvel just how much more mature than them Alex was, two years younger. She suddenly wondered what exactly had happened to make him so, but dismissed it as being an unusual trait. She silently prayed Joshua would be the same.)

KERRY - BRIANNA REYNOLDS

1) Jeff Reynolds had to use Brianna's computer because his was being "borrowed by a friend".

2) Explanation: friend from work needed to sync files to do with schedules, having been away on vacation.

3) Bought new USB.

4) Has been working late.

BRUCE - TOBY REYNOLDS

1) Chicken Pox can be a long, arduous illness capable of rendering a sixteen-year-old bed-ridden for all of two weeks. Try to avoid.

KYLE - TEDDY NORWAY

1) Norways were nearly bankrupt when Brian Norway entered criminal dealings

2) Received $20 000 from an unknown source recently - half the day before the explosives were missing, the other half two days before the shed was blown up

3) Has also been working late

4) Borrowed Jeff Reynold's computer

5) Explanation: was offering to cue of a computer virus

JAMES - MAX NORWAY

1) Norway cellar had to be cleaned out recently

2) Explanation: Brysons' client couldn't pick up a delivery immediately and as business manager Brian Norway was assigned to "mind" it

3) Norway was protective of storage; locked door to basement and prohibited entry

4) Possible name of client: Yrev Revelc (sender name on letter)

ALEX - GENERAL

1) Bryson may have been aware of explosives theft before-hand; agreed to turn a "blind eye"

2) Reynolms and Norway were going through Brysons' computer

3) Possibility of additional employees involved in explosives

4) Chemicals testing shed (known for animal testing) blown up (Help Earth motivation established; SCORPIA's as yet unknown)

5) Crane seen outside school, travelling away from Brysons'

CONCLUSIONS

1) Brian Norway borrowed Jeff Reynolm's computer, but cover stories conflicted. Ulterior motive obvious.

2) With a possibility of others involved in the "Shipping Ground Shenanigan", it is reasonable to believe that SCORPIA/Help Earth/Other would have to pay them as well, therefore others involved are most likely financially troubled.

3) The explosives may have been stored at the Norways' house before being moved (?) to blow up the shed (?)

4) Help Earth's involvement is almost certain as animal testing was employed at shed

5) SCORPIA may not actually be involved.

6) There is the possibility that an entirely different organisation is involved

'That's quite a list,' Remarked Kerry, once the list was finished. 'I don't see anything particularly enlightening when put into word form, though.' There were general murmurs of glum agreement. Alex frowned, looking hard at the writing.

'What is it, Alex?' Bruce asked, noticing the boy's concentration.

'It's the name ...' Muttered Alex distractedly.

'Yrev Revelc?'

'Yeah ... it just seems familiar ...' He mused.

'What? You mean you've heard it before?' Kyle asked. Alex shook his head.

'No, I've never heard it before in my life. Just something about it written looks fam -' He froze. Everybody froze with him for a few seconds, before eventually giving up on trying to gouge his actions.

'What is it, Alex?' James demanded, not liking being left out of the loop, but also not liking the expression on the boy's face.

'The name.' Alex whispered, still staring at the paper, 'Yrev Revelc ... it's not a name at all.'

'What do you mean? Of course it's a name. A company, maybe?'

'No! I mean, it's not a name. It's a trick. What is Yrev Revelc backwards?'

'C-l-e-v-errr ... Ve-ery ...' Bruce tried to sound out the words, but sounded instead like some sort of big cat trying to dislodge a ferret bone from its teeth.

'Very clever.' Zara murmured, seeing it before the other CHERUBs. She turned to Alex. 'What does this mean? They knew we were going to find out that name and laid some sort of trap? I don't understand.'

'Neither do I.' Alex glared at the paper in front of him, as if it somehow could be blamed for his confusion. Suddenly he frowned, and looked up from the table. 'What was the chemicals lab actually experimenting on?'

Zara shrugged, glad to be talking about something she understood. 'Nothing particularly special. Cosmetics, if I remember correctly.' She crossed swiftly to the kitchen, where a manilla folder sat inconspicuously against the bench top. She opened it and pulled out not a top secret government file but ... a newspaper. Oh well. They couldn't be superspies all the time. There was a smaller article near the back that talked about the arsen.

'It's a filler article?' Kyle asked, bemused. 'This was a possible terrorist attack!'

'Yes,' Zara nodded, unfolding the newspaper so that it spread over the table in front of the young agents, 'but the government doesn't want people to know that. Besides the usual secrecy, I suspect it has something to do with a cosmetics lab being a threat. What is this country coming to ...'

'I always knew makeup was just a massive conspiracy.' Kerry mused aloud. Nobody wanted to wonder if she was serious. Knowing Kerry, she could well be.


ALEX POV

The next day dawned bright and early, as always, not really caring about terrorist plots or teenage spies or makeup conspiracies, but just focusing on making the sun bright and the breeze gentle.

Just kidding.

The next morning was a shocker. As far as early storms went, this one took the cake. Thunder, lightning, howling wind, hail, the occassional whirlwind ... crazy. The thin walls of the house didn't help, either; everybody was exhausted after next to no sleep in freezing conditions, no less.

All the same, school was boring. Once again Alex found himself in his desk, wondering about Jack and Tom. How they were going ... he found himself thinking up new outrageous ideas that his classmates were probably blaming his disappearance on this time. Jail? Drug-induced hospitalisation? Knife wounds? A desire to travel the world with a band of stray cats and a chicken? Who knew ...

It wasn't until Maths (what happened to English epiphanies?) that Alex noticed something was up. For starters, and he should have been suspicious of this earlier but the storm and near-death exhaustion had distracted him, there was another new kid. It was a boy called Will. He had short red hair and a pale face covered in freckles, but was quite well-built despite his sickly stature, and he hung out with Mark.

Secondly, Andrea came back. Well, if "coming back" meant hanging around outside the school gates in a grey rain coat and umbrella. Alex wouldn't even have noticed this had he not been seated next to the window in before-mentioned maths. Just after the start of the lesson the teacher asked him to close it more securely - hail once again beating the tin roof of the school. What could he say? The grey helped Andrea blend in with her surroundings. Just after they had moved on to Distribution and Substitution, somebody else joined her outside the school. It was a man in a black suit, wearing sunglasses despite the storm. At this, Alex had to suppress a laugh. How more cliche could you get?

The two just sort of ... stood there. And about ten minutes before the bell went for lunch Alex understood why. There came a message over the intercom for "Mr Mark Johnson to please come to reception ... Mark Johnson please come to reception." Mark left the classroom without a second glance and, sure enough, appeared alongside the two mysterious figures standing vigil just outside the school gates a second later. They all turned and a sleek black car - one that had never before been and would probably never again be seen pulled up and the three clambered in and drove away. Alex was left with Will for the rest of the day, but thankfully the kid seemed to ignore him.

It was literally just, just before the end of class, and Alex's teacher asked him a question. He answered correctly. It was no extraordinary question; just a simple division. Anyone could have gotten it; and that wasn't Alex being modest. Anyone could literally have gotten it. And that was why it was no ordinary comment when Will, brushing past Alex while filing out of the classroom, sneered at the MI6 agent,

'What a great answer just then. How very clever of you. You're just a very clever sort of person, I guess.' And then he was gone, no doubt into another stupid black car with stupid black tinted windows. Something very weird was going on. Weirder than usual, anyway. And this was when Alex decided it was time to tell the CHERUBs about the strange goings on in his class.


Spiffing! And the plot thickens ...

Anyone have any ideas about where this is going? Anyone not? Regardless you really, really, honestly should review. You don't even have to tell me where you think this is going. Constructive criticism very much welcome, flames ... not so much. Praise also welcome. Lots of praise. Kidding! I'm tempted to LOL but I think it just must be my body drawing on my last reserves of energy and having a few minor subconscious hiccups, is all. Heehee ...

ChapSomething Reviews! (Sorry ... I probably should check which chapter this is ...)
Thankyou very muchly to: xDarklightx (As always, thankyou for reviewing! I'm glad you like), biblioholic (glad you thought that was funny, I certainly had fun writing it. My amateur sense of humour just bursting to get out ... And thankyou, by the way. That competition sounds very interesting. I will be sure to check it out.), Dammitimmad (yay! Thankyou! Glad you liked it!), redfrog (I was fast, wasn't I? Like a ninja! That's me ...), loam (thankyou thankyou thankyou! I am glad you like this so far. Hopefully this answered some questions and raised others ... mysterious, eh? Cue spooky music ...) and shini (Thanks for reviewing! Hope this wasn't too long, I kind of got off track for a bit.)

And ALSO thanking very muchly anyone who put this story on favourites or alerts, or even the few that put me on author alert and one on auther favourite actually, I think! Thankyou very much! But, next time, why not review as well? You will get my undying love ...

And it will take you like thirty seconds. Please! XD Not that I'm begging or anything ... *cough*

Anywho, that's all from me for now.

Riley Erin :)