3: Dark
All of the Cherubs had a break before lessons started again the next week. Usually George would have spent a couple of days playing games in his room or joining in the occasional football match when the weather was dry, but he'd been on campus for six months and he'd got bored of that. Instead, he made his way down to the technical department to meet with Terry Bradshaw, the head boffin on campus.
"Morning George," Terry said, putting down his mug of tea as George sauntered into the office. "How was fitness training?"
"Brutal," George replied, cracking a grin. "Looks like you'd have benefitted more than me, anyway."
Terry wasn't overweight, but his age had given him a rounded belly. "Cheeky, better watch that tongue or I'll have you running laps."
George took a seat on an ancient chair with foam falling out of it and swung his legs. "So, anything going on today?"
"Just the usual golf cart maintenance and a few tweaks to the pool cars. Apparently someone on a mission in Scotland has bashed up one of the nippy Volkswagens, but it won't be back here until the afternoon."
"Shame," George replied. He'd got interested in cars on his last mission and had done enough good work in the technical department that Terry trusted him with repairs, so a bit of cosmetic work on a pool car was probably something he would have been trusted to do by himself.
"Anyway, let's get cracking. I want to have most of it done by lunchtime," Terry announced, draining his tea and getting up. "Go and fetch one of the carts that are lined up by the doors and bring it into the workshop, if you don't mind."
George jumped up and jogged over to the cart. He enjoyed working with Terry, who was always nice and never handed out punishments for the slightest thing, and actually being helpful on campus meant that he wasn't the first one picked when the staff were handing out annoying tasks like supervising red-shirts or shifts in the recycling centre.
Terry was going through the finer details of the exhaust system on a van that CHERUB had modified when there were a series of loud knocks on the door of the workshop.
"See who that it, George," Terry said, his voice muffled by the spanner he was holding in his mouth.
George rolled out from under the van and wandered over to the door. Waiting for him was Rose Cameron, his handler and an all-round hardcase who never gave George an inch.
"Morning Terry," she shouted, spotting his legs protruding from under the van.
"Hello Rose," Terry replied, "Give me a minute."
"Don't worry, it's George I want," she said, before turning the evil eye onto George. "Young man, aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?"
George racked his brains. "Um…"
Rose tutted. "Does a meeting in the mission preparation centre ring any bells?"
Usually George would have remembered whatever it was Rose was going on about and been sent on his way, but this time he really was clueless. "Sorry miss, I still don't know."
She produced a yellow swipe card which George instantly recognised. Usually getting one meant you'd landed a mission, and he could feel himself getting excited.
"Don't get your hopes up, I'm told it's only a training mission," Rose said sternly. "You should have been told about it last night. I got this off the desk in your room."
George grinned sheepishly. He'd actually spent the previous evening playing FIFA in Ralph's room until the early hours before falling asleep there, and he'd only been back to his room for a quick shower and change of clothes. Anything on his desk had escaped his notice.
Rose rolled her eyes. "Anyway, the briefing started fifteen minutes ago, so you're going to have to run there. Kazakov sounded pretty angry on the phone."
George grabbed the card and was about to set off when Rose grabbed his arm.
"Not so fast. I've heard a certain story about a trick being played on an innocent red-shirt last night, and I'd bet my last pound you're involved somehow, so let me tell you, if I can find evidence it was you, you'll be running laps until I retire, understood?"
George just shrugged. "No idea what you mean, miss."
"Better hope so," Rose said, giving him another evil glare before letting him go. George had the sense to sprint away before she decided he was guilty.
He was out of breath by the time he arrived at right room in the mission preparation centre, but he didn't waste any time, pushing the door open immediately and looking around. He was relieved to see Letty and Ralph sitting there, along with Rex's little sister Kimberley, who had recently qualified as an agent. There was an older black-shirt girl with long blonde hair who George didn't recognise giving him a scowl, and Kazakov was sitting behind the desk. His face was perfectly calm, which was worse than angry.
"Ah, George, good to see you. Your fellow agents have been sitting in silence for twenty minutes now, so I'm sure they're relieved to see you too." He cracked a smile, which gave George chills. "Before you sit down, you're exactly one thousand, one hundred and thirty seconds late, so I think we'd all appreciate you giving us one press-up for each of those, hmm?"
George's eyes boggled. "But sir-"
"If you haven't started within the next second, it'll be my boot up your jacksie!" Kazakov roared, slamming his hand onto the desk. George dropped to the floor and began doing press-ups, feeling like a complete idiot as the others stared at him. Kazakov began counting and George knew he had no chance of doing a thousand, but he'd just completed a fitness course and a weak showing meant he'd probably be top of the list for extra sessions. He quickly got to thirty before tiring, and as he struggled towards forty, Kazakov told him to stop.
"We'd better get on with the briefing, so sit down," he said, pointing to the only available chair. George sat down, feeling uncomfortably sweaty.
"Okay then, now we're all here, I'll introduce what's going to happen.
"Tonight you'll be driven to the urban warfare compound, which some of you might have used before, along with three other teams of five like yourselves. Each is made up of one experienced agent, plus a navy-shirt who is second in command, and then three grey-shirts. The exercise will start at 2000 hours and last until 0800. The premise is very simple; each team will be given a flag like this one." He paused and showed them a flag which looked like the type you found on golf courses, but much smaller.
"To win, you must get the other teams' flags without losing yours. Having three flags at the end of the exercise would guarantee you a win, having two means you might win, so long as no other team also has two.
"Other than that, tactics are up to you. You'll be dropped at random somewhere away from the other teams, and the whole of the compound is available to you. Any questions?"
Letty raised her hand and Kazakov looked at her.
"Um, are there any rules about combat?"
Kazakov nodded. "You'll be using simulated ammunition so it'll be full-body suits with helmets. You can use any force to get the flags, excepting shooting at point-blank range or, obviously, torture. Deliberately causing injuries that require treatment will result in severe punishment. Anything else?"
Nobody said anything, so Kazakov lifted his huge body out of the chair and headed for the door. "I'll leave it up to you from now on, but you need to be assembled at the front gate at 1900 hours. What you do until then is up to you, but this room is available for… about four minutes. You would have had longer, but one of your teammates was very late."
Once he'd gone, they sat in silence for a couple of moments, mostly so Letty could glare at George, but when she opened her mouth to speak, the black-shirt girl interrupted.
"Alright, I didn't realise I was gonna be stuck with a team of little kids, so listen up," she said sharply. "I'm Katie Dark, if you don't know already, and I'm the team leader, so I don't want any crap from you. I give the orders, and this navy-shirt here is second in command, so if she gives the rest of you an order, you listen to that too."
"I'm Letty," the younger girl said, smiling.
"Okay, Lett. Now, I don't expect any of you have done the simulated ammunition before, so let me tell you from experience, it hurts a lot and you will have huge bruises this time tomorrow, so try not to get shot. Now we're gonna get thrown out of here in a couple of minutes, so I'd suggest everyone gets some lunch now, then try and sleep for a few hours in the afternoon and we'll meet up at four o'clock in my room, which is on the sixth floor. Work for you?"
George didn't feel like questioning her, so she just nodded and got to her feet. "Alright, see you later. If you can't sleep, get some practice at the firing range, but I expect all the other teams will be doing that."
She swept out of the door, leaving the other four to follow her.
"Can't believe we have to do yet another training exercise," Letty muttered to George as they left.
"You're telling me," George sighed. "Loads of the older agents complain about the simulated ammunition really hurting, too."
"Plus, that Katie girl seems kindof mean. I don't know if she'll be much of a team leader," Letty added. "She might just leave us to get shot."
George shrugged. "I think there's some kind of punishment for doing badly, so she'll probably want to avoid it."
Letty nodded. "Hope so. Anyway, I'm gonna sleep if we're going to be up all night. I'll eat later."
"I'll probably do the same," George agreed, "especially since I doubt we'll be stopping to eat during the exercise."
When they got back to the accommodation block, George took a detour via Michael's room. Michael was old enough to have been on multiple training exercises and George was hoping he'd be exempt from this one so he could give good advice. It took him a few moments to open the door and George wondered whether he was out, but when the door opened, George spotted an aerial map of the training compound on his desk and Lucy, another senior agent who'd been on George's last mission, sitting on his bed.
"Did you get roped into the exercise too?" Lucy grinned as George stepped into the room. "Bad luck. Seems like I'm the only one taking it easy this evening."
"I thought you two hated each other?" George asked. There had been a major blow-up when Michael and Lucy had broken up which had resulted in punishments all round.
Michael shrugged. "I do hate her, but she's not on any team and she knows as much about the compound as anyone, so I asked if she'd give me a hand planning for my team."
George grinned. "I'd forgotten you would be a team leader. Hope you come last."
"Whose team are you on?" Lucy asked, rolling up the map of the compound.
"Some girl named Katie Dark," George replied.
Both Michael and Lucy grimaced.
"Ouch," Michael said, shaking his head. "She's gonna be tough on you."
"Why? She seemed pretty harsh in our briefing, but is she just gonna abandon us?" George asked, feeling worried.
Lucy shook her head. "Nah, you'll probably do alright, but she's pretty much merciless. If you mess up, I wouldn't put it past her to shoot you or something."
George flung himself onto Michael's bed and stretched out. "What's her deal? I don't wanna go on the exercise if she's a psycho."
Michael began explaining as he walked through to his bathroom to take a leak. "I haven't spoken to her much outside of lessons for a while, actually, but a whole load of stuff happened before you came to Cherub."
"Shut the damn door," Lucy said, disgusted. "At least have some respect."
Michael just laughed. "Not my problem darling."
George snorted and got a smack from Lucy for his trouble. She hadn't totally forgiven him for his part in their break-up, so George instantly went quiet.
"Anyway, her older brother, some guy named Rob, was an agent here when I was a grey shirt," Michael continued. "I think he'd be about twenty by now. He was on a mission once and a truck ran over his arm or something, so it was completely pulped."
"I thought it was a tractor or something," Lucy added.
"Like it matters," Michael shrugged, drying his hands. "They thought he was gonna lose it, which would obviously end his CHERUB career, but some American surgeons were trialling a new kind of reconstructive surgery and they flew over here and actually fixed it, although he had thirty metal pins in his arm.
"He had five in his hand," Lucy agreed. "He had this insane killer punch for ages after he'd got the muscle back in his arm."
"He never did combat stuff because his arm was fragile, though," Michael said, sitting in his desk chair and wheeling himself around the room. "After a while, he was on some mission in Europe and by a freak coincidence, a scientist recognised the reconstructive work from a journal or something and he ended up being abducted by Russians or something. There was this huge manhunt and MI6 and the CIA or whoever were all involved. When they rescued him, he'd been tortured and he wasn't really right in the head, and he failed a psychiatric test."
"I remember that," Lucy nodded. "I'd just got back from a mission and it all hot news on campus, although he was hardly ever out of the medical department."
Michael scratched his head. "I think after that he overdosed on some drugs and got discharged from CHERUB, but I don't know if that was just a rumour or not. But anyway, he was seriously messed up and his sister ended up going all tough-girl."
Lucy tutted. "As if you'd know. She was actually distraught for ages; her brother had disappeared and been tortured, then he tried to kill himself. She almost left CHERUB but they persuaded her to stay on. She was always crying."
"So that's why she'll probably kick your ass if you don't do well," Michael grinned. "I wouldn't mention her brother while she's holding one of those rifles, though, not if you wanna live."
"She's been in a lot of trouble for breaking rules in the past, so you should be careful," Lucy added. "I actually thought she was leaving Cherub, she must be nearly eighteen by now."
George chewed one of his fingernails. Lucy and Michael had done nothing to reassure him about Katie, and now he was afraid she was going to snap or something.
"Anyway, I've gotta come up with a plan for this exercise, so you'd better disappear," Michael said, getting up and grabbing the map again. "Next time I see you, I'll be stealing your flag."
"Thanks," George replied, grinning. "Maybe you'll get yours back from us, but I doubt it." As he got up, he bounced on the bed and the pillow flipped up, revealing a black bra which Lucy lunged for, but George was faster.
"Hate each other my backside!" George said triumphantly, waving the bra just out of Lucy's reach. "You dirty dogs."
Michael roared with laughter, but Lucy pinned George to the wall and gave him a brutal punch in the gut, doubling him over.
"I don't know what you're laughing for," Lucy shouted, rounding on Michael. "You're not getting any more help from me."
She stormed out and George coughed, trying to regain his breath. He was afraid Michael would be angry, but he just laughed more.
"She wasn't exactly helping with the exercise anyway, if you know what I mean," Michael winked. "Anyway, you'd better go, if she bumps into you later on you'll probably get worse than that punch."