Someone asked me how many chapters there are going to be, and what all of their titles are. So, I have decided to be nice and tell them all to you at the bottom of this chapter.

Enjoy, read, review!

Chapter Three: Newcomer

Even once Andrew Richardson woke up, he still felt groggy from the drug that had been forcibly injected into him. Even though his body was awake, his brain was still fast asleep, and he was unable to leave the bed he was laying in.

Thinking about this suddenly made Andrew awaken. He was in a different bed. So, the next thing to figure out was: where was he? He was unable to answer that question for himself. The last thing he remembered was asking one of the police officers to go away. He didn't remember being rude and shouting his head off at everyone. Standing up, Andrew was also shocked to find himself naked. Now he was starting to feel really creeped out.

There were clothes on a table on the opposite side of the room – an orange shirt, army cargo camouflage pants, even underwear, socks and a singlet. The orange shirt had a globe of the world and the word CHERUB stamped on its centre in capital letters. Everything was in his size, something that was yet again rather shocking to the little, nine-year-old boy. He put the fresh clothes on and noticed that he was the first to wear them. Even the boots had a new-shoe smell to them.

Once he was dressed, Andrew decided to try and find out where he was. Outside was a corridor with nine other doors exactly the same as his. A teenage girl came out of one of the rooms with three thick textbooks in her arms. She was obviously in a rush.

'Excuse me,' started Andrew. Before he could continue, the teenage girl interrupted him.

She simply stated, almost cryptically, 'Can't talk to Orange.'

Andrew had a look of confusion and befuddlement on his face. 'Can't talk to what?' he asked. But the teenage girl didn't answer him, she simply ran off.

Another person, a boy who looked to be only a year or so older than Andrew himself came up from the stairs that the girl just went down. Andrew decided to try and talk to this person. 'Excuse me,' he asked. The boy stopped. 'Where am I, and where do I go?'

'I – I – I'm not meant to talk to orange, but follow me, and don't talk to me,' said the boy, as if he was scared. He walked towards the elevator, and beckoned for Andrew to follow him.

At the bottom of the building was a huge reception. Massive glass doors showed a clearly visible massive fountain. On it was the same globe that was the massive logo for his shirt. CHERUB. He was really beginning to wonder what this was.

'Excuse me?' Andrew asked tentatively, imagining the old lady in reception was going to tell him that she couldn't talk to orange. Before Andrew could continue, though –

'Good morning! You must be Andrew – is that right? Andrew Richardson?' The receptionist seemed very polite to Andrew, and he was finally happy that someone could talk to him.

'Yes. Where am I, and what am I doing here?'

'You should probably ask those questions to the Chairwoman. Doubtless, though, she'll probably answer them before you can ask them.'

'Will she?' Andrew asked.

'Yes. We generally have a £10 bet on it. Seeing as you are the tenth hopeful recruit, we've upped it to £1,000 to make it interesting.' The receptionist paused and thought for a moment. 'I'm going to go and get the Chairwoman, but before I do, can I ask something of you?'

'Sure,' said Andrew, willing to do anything for the nice lady who decided to talk to him.

'When she comes out of the room, ask her where you are and why you're here, please?'

'Sure.'

The receptionist stood up and went to a large door, knocking three times. 'Mrs Asker, Andrew Richardson is here to talk to you.'

The door opened, and a forty-year-old mum came out of the room. She didn't look the type to be the Chairwoman of anything. 'Thank you, Rosetta. Come along, Andrew.'

Andrew was set to go before remembering what Rosetta had asked of him. 'Where am I and what am I doing here?'

'Looks like £1,000 to you there, Rosetta. And to think I only got £90 off of you,' said the Chairwoman. 'Come along in, Andrew, and I'll answer your questions.'

The office was of amazing size. 'First things first – where are you? CHERUB Campus!'

This was apparently meant to mean something, but Andrew couldn't think of anything that clicked in his brain. 'CHERUB Campus?'

'Yes. CHERUB Campus is the home of all CHERUBs. You're going to find out more of what I'm talking about when I properly explain it to you, but you asked the questions first, so you get to be confused first.'

'Okayyy…'

'And the second question – what are you doing here?'

'Okay, okay, okay,' interrupted Andrew. 'Can you please just give me the lecture you obviously want to give me.'

'Sure,' said the Chairwoman. 'My name is Zara Asker, and I am the Chairwoman of CHERUB. CHERUB is a secret organisation that has an aim to put a stop to terrorists and baddies. We are a branch of British Intelligence. CHERUB agents are spies.' Andrew was so shocked he fell off of his seat. 'Wow, there. Let me help you up. I didn't realise it would be that shocking to you. This didn't happen with any of the other agents I've had come here.'

'Why do you use children to catch criminals?' Andrew asked, questioningly.

'Our previous Chairperson created a scene. If a man came up to the door of an elderly woman in the middle of the night and asked to come in, the woman wouldn't let him in, would she? If he said he was injured, she may ring an ambulance for him, but she still won't let him in.'

'Is this going anywhere?' asked Andrew, confused.

'Yes, it is,' Zara assured the boy. 'Now, if you were sitting on the veranda crying, the lady would ask what was wrong. Imagine you say, "My daddy's car crashed down the road. He's hurt." The old lady opens the door immediately, lets you in. But imagine an adult is standing near the hedges around the corner of the house. He bags the lady, and runs off with the cash under the mattress. CHERUB agents do this, but they do it the other way around. During a mission, a CHERUB agent will infiltrate a criminal gang or terrorist group. Criminals will suspect adults, imagining them as undercover cops. Therefore, a kid can do more than an adult can do – if they're trained.'

'What was the emphasis on the "if they're trained" for?'

'Lately, some untrained agents or red-shirts have been skiving off to join trained agents on missions. Recently, an eight-year-old boy who got cocky with his mates went off and was stabbed in the arm. He spent a month in hospital before we found out. We'd been sending search parties around the local area for him. It came as such a terrible shock that a respected red-shirt carer resigned because of the pressure of what she though was her fault, when it was actually the red-shirt.'

'Red-shirt?' asked Andrew, seemingly more confused than when Zara began the conversation on untrained agents.

'You will have noticed that you are wearing an orange shirt.'

'Yes.'

'And when you came along up here –'

'People kept on saying can't talk to orange.'

'Correct. Now, the fluorescent orange is a warning to the other cherubs. You're a visitor. No CHERUB agent may talk to a visitor with prior given permission from the Chairperson. A red-shirt is a person, generally under the age of ten, who is unable to become an agent. To become an agent, you must pass through basic training, which is where you wear the blue shirt. You can only join basic training once you are ten years old, and must pass through all 100 days without contact with the outside world. It is extremely difficult, but you then receive the grey shirt, meaning you are now eligible to go on missions. After a great, successful mission, the Chairperson can then promote you to the navy shirt. After several good and successful missions, the Chairperson can then promote you to the ultimate shirt: black. When a cherub retires, they receive the white shirt. The white shirt is also worn by staff.'

'Okay,' said Andrew, pretending to understand.

'How about I take you on a tour of CHERUB Campus then?'

'That sounds like fun.'

O

'There have been many amazing agents throughout the history of CHERUB,' said Zara. 'One of our most recent people to have aged out was James Adams. He'd gone on many missions in his life – he even completely stuffed one up – but he was a common name around CHERUB for all of the right reasons.'

'Sounds cool,' said Andrew.

'Now, I hear you are nine years and eight months old, correct?'

'Correct?'

'Then you will be living over here!' Zara pointed towards a large building painted in red. 'This is where the red-shirts live. Even at the age you are and younger, many have already learnt a language or two fluently. Do you know many languages?'

'I know basic Indonesian. And I know a little bit of French, Japanese, Italian and Spanish. But not much of them.'

'At CHERUB, you can learn any language you like.'

'Cool!' said Andrew, finally enthusiastic and interested. He had an interest in languages.

'Want to live here?' asked Zara. 'Do you want to become a spy for British Intelligence?'

'Yes,' said Andrew, seriously. 'Yes, I do.'

O

'Now,' said Meryl Spencer, one of the handlers, 'You will need to change your name for verification. We can't have Andrew Richardson running around the streets of London anymore.'

'Erm,' said Andrew, thinking of the night before.

'Hello, Andre,' called out one of the carers.

'My name's Andrew, not Andre. Why do you keep getting that mixed up?'

'It's just a nice-sounding name, isn't it? Andre…'

'I'd like to change my name to Andre Richardson,' Andrew said.

'Could you change your last name as well please? We don't always ask someone to do this, but Andre is very close to Andrew.'

'How does Andre Cherub sound?'

'Just one second,' said Meryl, running out of the room. She came back with Zara, the Chairwoman. 'He'd like to change his name to Andre Cherub,' she said to Zara, whispering. 'Will that cause problems with security?'

'Nope,' said Zara back, equally as quiet. 'Welcome to CHERUB Campus, Andre Cherub!'

Chapter Time!

Chapter One: Sleepover

Chapter Two: Death

Chapter Three: Newcomer

Chapter Four: Friendship

Chapter Five: Fearful

Chapter Six: Basics

Chapter Seven: Checkpoint

Chapter Eight: Settling

Chapter Nine: Choosing

Chapter Ten: Briefing

Chapter Eleven: Invitation

Chapter Twelve: Plans

Chapter Thirteen: Terrorist

Chapter Fourteen: Morning

Chapter Fifteen: Afternoon

Chapter Sixteen: Evening

Chapter Seventeen: Recovery

As a warning - there will be a sequel to this, and another sequel. I'll tell you all how many books there will be if this story hits 50 reviews.