7: Missing
Once George and Rex had agreed to the mission, Flora made some calls to the Albert Park halfway house and the mission was scheduled to start the following week.
"If it's longer than a month or so, you'll miss the hostel," Letty said at dinner, which was extra lively since it was one of the first times everyone was back on campus for a few weeks.
George shrugged. "We'll get to go on the ski trip, and that's supposed to be really fun."
"Can't beat sunbathing all morning then racing jet skis all afternoon," Ed chimed in.
Rex, who'd wolfed down his dinner and was only really hanging around to chat, pulled Ed into a headlock, causing him to spit out a lump of half-chewed potato onto Rex's knee.
"That's disgusting," Rex said, springing away from Ed and flicking the lump onto the floor.
"Oh yeah, the cleaners are going to love sorting that out," Jemima said, tutting.
"Your fault, you're the one that attacked me," Ed protested, pretending to stab Rex with his fork.
Rex grabbed some serviettes and wiped his trousers. "These were clean on for my meeting earlier," he whinged.
George cracked up at the look on Rex's face. "You weren't bothered earlier when you were wearing that filthy pair."
Rex shrugged. "I don't mind dirt, I do mind Ed's gobbed up potato."
"No more talking about gobbed up potato, I haven't finished eating," Letty said, firmly. "Anyway, I don't go back to my mission until the day after tomorrow and I've managed to get the evening off, so anyone got any ideas for a fun activity?"
"Paintballing," Rex and Ed said at the same time.
At that moment, Beatrice appeared with a tray and she plonked herself down next to Jemima.
"What did I miss?" she asked. "I got held back in English, apparently 'CHERUB doesn't tolerate people drawing penises in their Shakespeare book'."
George liked Beatrice's crazy streak and it was a minute or so before the boys managed to get their giggles in check.
"I was just asking what we could do tomorrow evening. Rex and Ed said paintballing," Letty said.
"I wouldn't mind paintballing, the weather's so nice it's better to be outside," Jemima said.
"Sounds like everyone's on board," George said, leaning back in his chair and pulling up his navy shirt to slap his full stomach.
"I told you," Letty said angrily, pointing her knife at George. "I haven't finished eating, stop with the disgusting behaviour."
"What's so disgusting about this?" George asked, slapping his stomach again.
"Nobody wants to see your fat rolls, George," Beatrice said.
"I'd rather see Ed's gobbed up potato again," Jemima added.
"Happy to oblige," Ed announced, leaning over Jemima's plate and opening his mouth.
Everyone reacted with disgust, and whilst Ed hadn't been planning to actually spit anything out, Rex reached over and thumped him hard on the back, making him cough and spray potato all over the table.
"Oh my God you absolute tosser," Jemima said, reaching over and punching Ed's arm. "That's gone on my plate."
"It's gone all over my dinner, I've barely touched it," Beatrice said, slamming her hand down on the table. "Rex, why are you always the world's biggest idiot?"
Rex grinned. "Natural talent," he said, pretending to act modest.
George was too busy laughing to say anything, but the girls were really annoyed.
"I'm gonna come over there and kick your arses if you don't go and get me a fresh dinner," Beatrice said, pushing her tray away from her. "I'm starving."
"Ed was the one who spat it up," Rex said, but Ed interrupted.
"I was only pretending, you're the one who made me actually do it."
"I don't care who, go and get it now before I mince your faces," Beatrice yelled.
Neither of the boys wanted to lose face by agreeing, so after a few seconds of awkward laughter, Beatrice jumped out of her chair and stormed over to Ed, who tried to back away but bumped into Rex's chair and tripped. Beatrice grabbed the collar of his shirt and was about to unleash a huge slap when someone cleared their throat.
"Ahem," Zara Asker, the chairwoman, said, stopping Beatrice in her tracks. "I hope you weren't about to hit him."
Reluctantly, Beatrice let go of Ed's collar and gave him a shove, grabbing her tray and heading off to the food counter without another word.
"And if I hear about any more graffiti in CHERUB textbooks, you'll be in my office explaining it," Zara called after her.
The whole table had fallen silent, and Ed pulled his chair back up to the table again, trying to assume an innocent expression.
"Since the table is in a state, you can all grab cleaning supplies and clean everything until it's spotless," Zara said, calmly. "Except for you, George, I wondered if I could ask you to pop into my office for a bit?"
Everyone stared at George, who nodded. "Yeah, I'm finished here," he said, wondering what he could possibly have done wrong. He grabbed his tray and took it to the washing up station before following Zara out of the cafeteria, his friends still watching him.
"Don't worry, you're not in trouble," Zara said kindly as they walked the short distance to her office, and George breathed a sigh of relief.
"How was your meeting?" he asked, and Zara gave him a quizzical look. "Instructor Capstick said you were away for a meeting yesterday."
Zara smiled. "My whole life seems to be meetings these days," she said. "That one was a big one, a briefing with the Prime Minister and the Intelligence Minister. Keep it to yourself, but there have been some murders connected to a mission in London which have caught his attention."
"I assume the Prime Minister was asking after me personally?" George grinned, and whilst Zara laughed, they arrived at her office before she could say anything more.
As soon as they stepped inside, Zara stopped smiling, and gestured for George to sit in a vacant chair opposite her desk as she shut the door firmly. The room was crowded.
"George, you know Ewart of course, and Pete," Zara said, moving around the outside of her desk so she could sit in her usual seat, her long skirt billowing around. Ewart Asker gave George a terse smile, but Pete Graham half stood up to shake George's hand.
"G'day George, hope you're well," the Aussie said. He'd worked with George on a previous mission and they always go on well.
"Fine thanks," George replied. "Any more opportunities for me to spend a winter Down Under?"
Pete grinned. "I'm still working on that for ya."
"George, this is William Shepherd," Zara added, and a tall man with cropped hair and gold-rimmed glasses leant over from his seat to shake George's hand too. "He's a member of the CHERUB ethics committee."
"Nice to meet you," George said as he sat down at last. "Sounds serious if the ethics committee is here." There were a hundred thoughts going through his head, but Zara had said he wasn't in trouble. Before he could stop himself, he looked at Zara and said, "Is this about Jules?"
Zara smiled. "No, it isn't, but if it reassures you, Jules has my full confidence, despite the ups and downs of his missions."
George nodded. "Sorry, I just thought maybe..." he trailed off.
William coughed slightly. "Well, actually George, I wondered if you would be willing to answer a few questions for me. This needs to be kept strictly confidential, of course, but anything you say here will be kept secret, so please speak honestly and openly."
"That means not a word to any of your mates," Ewart reiterated.
"I know what confidential means," George replied, annoyed with Ewart's attitude. Ewart's eyes bulged, but he said nothing.
William nodded, ignoring the tension. "So, firstly, I'll fill you in on the situation. As you probably know, in September last year, Michael Jaarsveld left CHERUB and joined a program called 'Construction Africa', a charity which builds infrastructure and housing in areas of extreme poverty in Africa. Participants in the program usually stay for one or two years, but there is an option to stay for an additional third year," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Are you aware of this?"
George nodded slowly. "I knew he'd gone to do something like that, yeah."
"In March, Michael was with the program in eastern Ethiopia, but they seem to have lost track of him since then. I've discreetly spoken to others on the program who said he offered to go and buy food supplies in a nearby town, then never returned. They found the truck he was driving abandoned outside a mosque close to the Somali border."
George stared at William for a moment, taking this in. "So he's missing?" he asked.
"Yes," William summarised. "Normally if a British citizen disappeared overseas, we'd wait for a family member to report them missing and then work with the appropriate authorities, but in this case, Michael doesn't have any family to report him."
"So how come we knew he'd gone?" George asked.
"You may not know this, but due to the highly secret nature of CHERUB, the organisation keeps ex-Cherubs under a certain amount of, um, observation," William said.
"It's mostly to try and ensure that nobody gets addicted to drugs, or runs up big gambling debts and gets blackmailed, or tries to sell their CHERUB story to the media. Obviously the safety of all CHERUB agents depends on everyone keeping the secret," Zara filled in.
"So even when I'm long gone, you'll be checking up on me?" George grinned. "Better not do a hundred down the motorway, then."
William laughed. "Well, it's not quite as detailed as that. But with Michael out of the country, in a politically unstable area, we were keeping a closer eye on him than normal, which is how we discovered the problem quickly. We're fairly confident that it wasn't a kidnapping and he's deliberately disappeared, but we're ruling nothing out."
"Where do you think he is?" George asked.
"Well," Zara cut in, "That's where you come in."
"Have you had any communication with Michael since March?" William asked, tapping a fancy-looking pen on a notepad.
"Um, I don't think so," George said, as William began writing. "He occasionally emails me, but I'm rubbish at checking my email."
"No emails since March?" William asked.
"No, I don't think so. It's been ages since I heard from him, I just assumed he was in an area with bad mobile signal or something," George told him.
"And nothing in any previous emails to suggest he was planning to leave the program?"
"No," George said. "I think the last time we just wished each other a happy Christmas."
"George, would it be okay if you gave William access to those emails? I'm sure there's nothing suspicious, but just in case," Zara asked gently.
"Yeah, I suppose," George shrugged. "Do you have any idea where he is?"
William exchanged a look with Zara. "Well, unfortunately, no. He's done an excellent job of covering his tracks, as you would expect from an ex-Cherub, and we've got no real idea where he is."
George leant back in his chair. "Wow," he said, trying to take in all the information.
This time Pete spoke. "George, if you're okay with it, we'd like you to email Michael to see if he'll respond to you. Just act like normal, but if you get any reply, send it straight to me."
"Okay," George said. "I mean, won't he realise if he's trying to stay hidden that replying to me isn't a good idea?"
"Obviously he will," Pete said, "But we think it's worth a try."
"If Michael contacts you in any other way, whether by phone or text or even a postcard, could you please report it immediately," William said, sounding serious. "It's really important for the safety of CHERUB that we don't have ex-Cherubs disappearing into the African desert."
"Will do," George said. "I'm supposed to be going on this mission next week, though."
"If you hear anything from him on your mission, prioritise passing it on to Flora or me," Pete said. "Don't endanger the mission, obviously, but for example, if you're undercover and he rings you, try to answer if you can."
"I'll give you my card," William said, leaning over to hand George a business card. "It's got my home and office numbers on it. Call anytime, day or night, even if it's just because you remember something Michael once said that could be helpful."
"Gotcha," George smiled. "I hope he's okay."
"You know Michael," Zara said, cracking a smile. "Chances are he's having the time of his life somewhere we can't find him."