25: Deal
Kimberley was in the middle of writing the formula for circular motion on the whiteboard at the front of the classroom when there was a tap on the door and Rose Cameron stuck her head in.
"Sorry to interrupt, can I borrow George?" she asked Kimberley, who nodded, but George was already sweeping notes and his pencil case into his bag.
"Homework," Kimberley said, holding out a sheet of paper before George could escape. "Question sheet, due tomorrow" she said, handing it to him.
George stuffed it into his bag, figuring he could probably copy off someone if he needed to. He followed Rose out into the corridor.
"What's going on?" he asked, jogging slightly to catch up.
"Zara's asked for you," Rose said, sounding grim.
"I was just in with Zara last night," George grumbled.
"I know," Rose said, not sounding impressed. "Remember when you promised me you weren't going to get into more trouble?"
"I don't remember promising anything," George replied, but Rose wasn't in the mood for jokes.
"Come in, George," Zara said, wearily. George had expected to be going to her office, but she was sitting instead in one of the empty meeting rooms on the ground floor of the main building which normally got used for planning training exercises or for the campus groups like the drama club or Letty's LGBT support group. When George walked in, the room was already two-thirds full. George recognised Ewart, who looked as tired as Zara, as well as senior mission controller Pete Graham, former mission controller Lewis Browning, who'd been in charge of George's disastrous mission to Africa and who looked troubled, and Michael, who looked dishevelled and unhappy. There were two men sitting either side of Michael at one end of the room who George didn't recognise, and to his slight surprise he saw Dave Edmonds sitting beside one of them, with William Shepherd next to him.
Rose shut the door behind them and guided George to a chair on the far side of the room. There was a tense atmosphere in the room and nobody said anything until George was seated, although Zara gave him a strained smile.
"Sorry to pull you out of your lesson, George," Pete Graham finally said. "We're having a little difficulty here and we wondered whether you might be able to break the deadlock."
George laughed nervously. "Okay," he said, glancing at Michael, who gave him a quick thumbs-up, although his hands were still cuffed together.
"Remember, George, you don't have to say anything you don't want to," Rose warned him, quickly. Ewart shot her a look.
"I want it on record that I did not recommend that George Knight remained here at CHERUB after his recent conduct," Ewart said, to nobody in particular. George stared at him, but Zara cut in.
"George, your future at CHERUB is safe," she said, pointedly. "All we want is for you to help us, this isn't a punishment and nobody is going to get you into trouble."
"Can someone please just tell me what's going on?" George fired back, hotly. Ewart's announcement had annoyed him.
Pete held up a hand apologetically. "Sorry, George. As you know, Michael was taken in for questioning last night but, it seems, on advice from his legal counsel, he has refused to answer any questions.
"We're in an unfortunate situation. The British security services are very keen to hear information about a man calling himself Yamake and the political situation in central Africa, and Michael is uniquely placed as a former Cherub to give us this valuable information. However, clearly it is not to Michael's advantage to potentially incriminate himself by giving us information."
"Okay," George said, nodding his head. "And how can I help?"
Pete rubbed his chin for a moment and looked back over some notes. "We've heard a lot of opinions from people in the room of varying backgrounds about Michael's general trustworthiness and his overall character, as well as the potential value of information he may, or may not, know. My first question to you, then, is this: if Michael were to make a solemn undertaking to us, and to you, to promise to do something, would you trust him to do it?"
George glanced at Michael, who looked impassive and wouldn't make eye contact.
"Yes, I would definitely trust him," George said, firmly.
Pete made a note. "And are you confident that, whatever Michael may or may not have said to you about his activities and whereabouts over the past year, you believe him to be telling the truth?"
"Yes, he's not lying," George said, looking at Pete. "Well, not as far as I know."
Pete just smiled at George. "That's okay, like I say, we're not interrogating you, here."
"There seems to be a majority opinion in the room, especially of people who know Michael well, that he can be trusted and is an asset we can use," Zara said. "He was an agent of mine for seven years and I appreciate the views of people who disagree, but-"
One of the men sitting next to Michael interrupted. "With respect, the room has been stuffed with people who are obviously sympathetic to him. From the perspective of British intelligence, no matter his background, if he has spent such a long time out of our control, then he is hopelessly compromised. I cannot authorise any suggestion of cutting a deal or any kind of bargain. He should face justice in the usual way and his compliance should be ensured through a plea deal."
"There is no evidence of any kind that there are charges to face," the man on the other side of Michael, his lawyer, said, quickly. "You cannot threaten prosecution without concrete evidence that you can disclose. I understand the sensitive nature of the situation but this is not fair to my client."
"Okay, stop for a minute," Pete said, sighing. "We're back at our impasse."
"If I may," Dave Edmonds spoke up. His crutch was leaning against the back of his chair, and as he got to his feet he took hold of it and used it to steady himself. "I don't pretend to be a psychological expert by any means but I have spent quite some time in both the intelligence and military settings, like some others in this room." He glanced meaningfully at Ewart who glared back at time. "Men like Michael here are vital to our nation's security if we are able to take a step back and look at the wider situation. Based on his record, both at CHERUB and since, he has demonstrated himself to be a reliable, top-performing agent with superb temperament."
"Hear, hear," Lewis Browning said. "You don't survive on the front lines of a civil war without some real talent and determination."
"I couldn't agree more," Dave said, looking gratefully at Lewis. "All of us here are motivated in some part to serve and protect the people of Britain, and the world more widely, through the work we do. To this end, I would like to suggest a deal to Michael which I believe he will accept."
"No! I said no, we cannot sanction a deal of any kind with a man who could, for all we know, be a war criminal or an enemy agent," the MI6 man said, vigorously.
"Hear me out," Dave said, calmly, turning to Michael. "Michael, I was in the SAS for ten years and everything about you says you'd be a perfect fit in the special forces. You're strong, fit, intelligent, and you're creative and a free-thinker. Your mate George sounds like he'd be willing to follow you into any crisis. Your file says you speak fluent French and Arabic as well as Afrikaans. I would struggle to come up with a more ideal candidate for the Special Reconnaissance Regiment."
"Agreed," William Shepherd murmured in support.
"Michael, if you agree to apply to the SRR and remain in it with good conduct for, what shall we say, five years? Then I think we can be in a position to offer you complete immunity, which would of course mean you share your experiences with our security forces." Dave looked around the room for support.
"I'm happy to guarantee immunity on those conditions, Michael," Zara said to him, more kindly. "If necessary I'll get the Intelligence Minister to sign the paperwork personally. He's good at understanding situations like this."
"You shouldn't go over my head," the MI6 man said, but he lapsed into silence after that.
"I would need time to discuss with my client," Michael's lawyer said, but Michael shook his head.
"There's nothing to discuss," Michael finally said, his voice hoarse. "I'd take the deal, absolutely, in return for immunity."
"Mr Charles, if you draw up the paperwork, I'll get our side to check it and we'll have it signed by the end of the day," Zara said, briskly to the lawyer, and Pete slapped his notebook shut to close the meeting.
There was the noise of chairs being pushed back and George got to his feet along with everyone else, except Michael, who stayed sitting. The MI6 man and the FANGs left first, followed by Lewis and Ewart with Pete, who started talking to Ewart about a different issue in a low voice. The lawyer went next, already calling someone on his phone, leaving just George, Michael, Zara and Rose.
"Thanks, George," Zara said. "How are you feeling, Michael?"
Michael had dropped his head forward and he sniffed. Rose hurried over and put her arm around his shoulders.
"Thank you," Michael said, looking up, his eyes red. "I can't believe I'm back here after everything."
Rose gave him a hug. "We're all just pleased to see you back," she said. "I remember you running around on campus not long after I got my black shirt, the cheekiest little red shirt I've ever seen."
Zara smiled. "Mac always had a soft spot for you, too."
Michael gave another gigantic sniff and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Thanks," he said, glancing at George. "You saved my life, mate."
"Just repaying the favour," George grinned. "Can't wait to see you in army uniform and take the mickey out of you."
Michael wasn't allowed to stay on campus and once his lawyer had all the paperwork signed, they took his cuffs off and James Adams offered to drive him to a halfway house that CHERUB owned for ex-agents who needed a place to crash for a few days. A crowd assembled to wave him off, but a lot of the Cherubs he'd grown up with on campus had already left and the others were mostly seventh-floor agents who fondly remembered inter-floor water fights and chaotic training exercises masterminded by Michael. He gave George a big hug last of all.
"Stick in there, Georgey," Michael said, his voice thick with emotion. "It goes by pretty fast in the end."
George nodded. "I'll miss you, man."
"I'll be back to visit pretty soon," Michael guffawed. "Don't you worry."
Bianca was standing next to George and Michael nudged her. "I don't know what you see in him, biggest idiot CHERUB's ever had," he grinned.
"That's why I like him," Bianca grinned back. "Makes me look smart by comparison."
Michael laughed and looked at George. "She's a keeper," he said, then turned and climbed into the car with James. George waved until the car had turned the corner on the drive and gone out of sight.
"You okay?" Bianca asked him.
George nodded. "Yeah, I'm good," he said, sighing. "I just remembered I've got a weekend of heavy drill coming up, that's all."