Pep Squad (4 page)

Jess wondered why the chair in the very centre was empty until a tall man dressed in a torn tuxedo with an open bow tie hanging around his neck jogged in from the left wing. One side of his face was grazed, and there was an open cut above his eye. The majority of students in the audience chuckled as he made his entrance, but Jess saw Lieutenant Parry's smile tighten as the man passed him on his way to the microphone centre stage.

‘Good afternoon, cadets and staff. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Vladimir Metsen, founder of P.E.P. Squad and Principal of Theruse Abbey. Welcome to a new academic year, and an especially warm welcome to those joining us for the first time. In three years, or rather two years and ten months' time, you too will have the opportunity to ruin expensive designer suits like this on covert missions.'

Jess and the twins found themselves giggling along with the other students.

‘Only two months ago we said goodbye to our very first graduate class, and they have already demonstrated their expertise in worldwide operations. Some of their missions included preventing a plane hijacking, stopping a jailbreak in Iran and quelling an insurgency in the Balkans. However, alongside these successes, I regret to inform you that one of our operatives, Aoife Maguire, was killed on a mission in Morocco.'

Several horrified gasps echoed around the auditorium.

‘Most of you will remember Aoife for her sense of humour, her, shall we say,
unconventional
outlook on life and, perhaps less fondly, for her amazing roundhouse kick in tae kwon do.'

‘I've got a pin in this arm from sparring with Aoife,' the boy sitting in front of Jess whispered to the girl next to him.

Jess shuddered.

Metsen's face took on a serious mien.

‘Let me remind you that what we do here at the abbey and after graduation is very real and very serious. Unfortunately sometimes even brilliant operatives like Aoife die in the field. If any of you are having doubts, as always you are free to leave at any time, as long as you grab a glass of Memory Wipe on the way out.'

A murmur rippled through the audience, but nobody moved from their seat. Jess couldn't help thinking that Metsen was treating the girl's death somewhat casually, if not coldly.

‘This year, in addition to our Irish cadets, we welcome new cadets from Russia, the Ukraine, South Africa and Australia to our family. Even though the calibre of Irish recruits is just as high as usual, we couldn't pass up the opportunity of inviting these exceptional individuals to join our special community. I trust that our broader student base will provide an enriching learning experience for all.

‘Now for some school notices,' continued Principal Metsen. ‘Due to Ms Maguire's death, we have revised the syllabus. Our language programme will now include more language labs specialising in regional dialects and colloquial language. We are also introducing a new subject called “Advanced Counter-Surveillance”, which will be compulsory for sophister-year students.'

There was a loud groan to the left.

The principal snapped his head around.

‘Mr Foley. Unless you want to end up dead as a P.E.P. Squad operative or knock back a glass of Memory Wipe, I suggest you revise your attitude.'

After a few moments glaring at the unfortunate boy, Principal Metsen smiled broadly again.

‘Now to more pleasant news. It is my absolute pleasure to welcome Miss Ball to the teaching staff.'

The woman sitting between Signora Enigmistica and Lieutenant Parry stood up and made a small curtsey.

‘Miss Ball is our new Head of Arts and will be directing this year's school musical:
The Wizard of Oz
. There will be a sign-up sheet outside Miss Ball's office and auditions will be held later in the term,' continued Principal Metsen.

‘School musical!' chuckled Matt.

‘Now I'll ask our transition-year cadets to stay seated. Freshman- and sophister-year cadets, please collect your bags and go to your dormitories to change into your regular uniforms. I'll leave the rest of you in the capable hands of our transition-year coordinator, Lieutenant Parry, while I slip into something less shabby.'

The principal virtually had to shout the last few words as two-thirds of the cadets left the auditorium with much chattering and laughter. Most of the teachers stood up and left too. Once the doors had banged shut the room was deathly quiet. Only twenty-four students were left.

Lieutenant Parry walked to the front of the stage and sat down, dangling his legs over the orchestra pit.

‘Firstly I'd like to offer you all a warm welcome and congratulations on being accepted into the P.E.P. training programme. I know a good group of candidates when I see one, and I can tell you're all going to thrive in this environment,' he said with a broad smile. Then the smile disappeared. ‘I'm not going to lie to you. The next three years are going to be tough. You need to acquire a truckload of skills before we can, with any conscience, send you into the field as P.E.P. Squad operatives. You heard yourselves just now that one of last year's graduates didn't even make it through the summer before being killed on a mission. And Aoife was a brilliant,
brilliant
student. I recruited her myself,' said Lieutenant Parry, pausing for a moment as he collected himself. He seemed genuinely upset by Aoife's death – unlike Metsen, who had ploughed on through his welcome speech without blinking. ‘No matter what we throw at you here, it can't always match what's waiting for you out there. The training course is tough because it has to be. In the real world of espionage there are no second chances.

‘So exactly what is it we're going to teach you, I hear you ask,' continued the lieutenant, looking around. ‘Think about the skills that a spy needs to have: fluency in multiple languages, a geekish understanding of the latest technology, the fitness of an Olympic athlete, the list goes on. But on top of that, your parents think you're attending an ordinary Irish school. They will expect to see evidence of your passing exams in all the normal subjects, as well as your participation in our Arts programme and other extra-curricular activities. The course load at Theruse Abbey is heavier than in any other educational institution in the world, and the physical education component is more gruelling than SAS training.'

‘Bring it on,' said Matt, cracking his knuckles, while Ben made an audible gulping sound.

‘Any takers for Memory Wipe at this stage?' asked Lieutenant Parry, looking at the group of cadets.

Nobody moved.

‘Good,' said Lieutenant Parry. ‘Now let me introduce you to our Head of Sciences: Herr Klug.'

A tall man wearing rimless glasses stood up.

‘Science and mathematics are subjects on which we place great emphasis here at Theruse Abbey,' he began in a flawless English accent, to Jess's surprise. ‘Everything from administering advanced first aid to hacking into security systems to defusing bombs relies on a thorough understanding of all facets of these fields. You can choose to sit the Leaving Certificate exams for any mathematics or science subject in your sophister year, though by the end of
this
year your knowledge in everything from biology to chemistry to technology will far exceed what is required for passing the higher-level Leaving Certificate.'

‘That sounds like two years of Science squished into one year. I'm screwed,' muttered Matt.

‘More like a
double load
of two years of Science in one year,' corrected Ben. ‘You're doubly screwed.'

‘In your freshman and sophister years, should you so desire, you can take an undergraduate course in Science to earn a BA degree. The degree will be awarded by Trinity College, although all subjects will be taught here at Theruse Abbey.

‘Only a small percentage of espionage is based in the field. An equally rewarding career as a P.E.P. Lab scientist is also on offer to our graduates,' continued Herr Klug. ‘Developing gadgets, accessing and analysing intelligence, making advances in bioengineering – it all happens at P.E.P. Labs. Just something to keep in mind. I look forward to seeing you in class.'

Herr Klug nodded to the students and sat back down in his chair.

‘Thanks, Herr Klug,' said Lieutenant Parry. ‘In addition to Science and Mathematics, you'll also see Herr Klug in Fieldwork Fundamentals, and if anyone opts to learn the tuba or the euphonium, he will be your instrument teacher. Also, let me warn you right now, he is a tough and unforgiving driving instructor. Now I'd like to introduce Master Qing, the Head of Socioeconomics.'

A short man wearing a traditional Chinese tunic padded silently across the stage in matching slippers.

‘Welcome, cadets, to Theruse Abbey,' he said without a trace of an Oriental accent. ‘As you have already seen, a lot is expected of you. The Socioeconomics Faculty encompasses History, Geography, Economics and Politics. It is the interaction of these disciplines that shapes society. Similarly to the Science Faculty, on completion of your transition year you will have been taught enough to pass the higher-level Leaving Certificate exams in Economics, History and Geography. In freshman and sophister years we hold weekly seminars to keep students up to date with world events, including those not reported in the media.'

Master Qing nodded to the class and returned to his seat.

‘All that on top of a double load of Science,' Ben whispered to Jess.

‘And I don't think he's the last one to speak either,' said Jess.

‘Crap,' said Matt.

‘Thanks, Master Qing,' said Lieutenant Parry. ‘You will also see Master Qing in your daily Fitness Training and if ever a language teacher is called out on assignment, Master Qing will fill in for them. Now I'd like to introduce you to Ms Pimsleur, Head of Languages.'

A petite woman of indeterminate ethnic origin stood up.

‘I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your commencement here at Theruse Abbey,' she began. ‘Some of you are looking a little overwhelmed, so I'll be brief. The list of languages on offer is quite extensive. At a minimum we expect you to attain an ordinary-level Leaving Certificate standard in all six of the official languages of the United Nations. Although some of you may be in more advanced classes, the teachers for transition year are: Mr Hamid for Arabic, Miss Kwan for Chinese, Mr James for English, myself for French, Señor Carreras for Spanish and Ms Dvoynev for Russian.' Each teacher nodded as Ms Pimsleur introduced them. ‘Native speakers of those languages must sit the higher-level exams. Everyone must pass the higher-level exam for Irish.'

‘
What
?' exclaimed Matt, loudly enough for everyone in the auditorium to hear.

‘Did you have something to say, Mr …?' began Ms Pimsleur, looking directly at Matt.

‘Sykes,' said Matt. ‘Matt Sykes.'

‘Very James Bond,' chuckled Lieutenant Parry.

‘Did you have something to say, Mr Sykes?' continued Ms Pimsleur.

‘Why do we have to study Irish?' asked Matt.

‘You're one of our international students, I take it?'

Matt nodded.

‘First and foremost,' explained Ms Pimsleur, ‘Irish is the only compulsory subject in the Irish school system at Leaving Certificate level. Second, it gives us a great advantage as secret agents. There are less than one hundred thousand native speakers, and there are less than two million people worldwide who speak any Irish at all. This makes the ability to communicate in Irish one of our greatest assets – kind of a code without a code, if you see what I mean.'

Matt nodded, but the look on his face spoke volumes.

Ms Pimsleur turned her attention back to the rest of the students.

‘Unlike Science and Socioeconomics, the language programme is continuous over the full three years at Theruse Abbey. And as Principal Metsen already pointed out, we have also made some revisions to the programme, running more language labs in local dialects. Field agents will have to pass additional tests before being admitted to a region, even after graduation. Any further questions?'

The class remained silent.

‘I'll see you all in French class. Enjoy your time here.'

‘Just quietly, if I were you I'd hope you never see her in combat training. Ms Pimsleur is a black belt in five separate martial arts disciplines,' said Lieutenant Parry. He made a show of shielding his eyes and squinting out into the audience. ‘Are you all still awake out there?'

A ripple of assent ran through the teenagers.

‘In which case, I'll reintroduce you to Miss Ball, Head of Arts.'

Miss Ball sat down on the front of the stage next to Lieutenant Parry.

‘I don't know about you, but my head is spinning with the amount you have to learn in just three years. Luckily we have a wonderful Arts programme so you can relax and indulge your artistic side. Like languages, Arts classes are held throughout your entire time at Theruse Abbey, so you can really build on your skills. Our courses are divided into Visual Arts, Music, Drama and Dance, which we combine to showcase your talents in the school musical, held at the end of the spring term. Regarding the musical, transition-year students start off-stage, being responsible for costumes, make-up and props; freshman-year students play in the orchestra; and on-stage roles are generally reserved for our sophister-year students. Auditions are open to all, of course, and I'd welcome any of you who want to try out.

‘We also encourage our students to master at least one musical instrument. You never know when playing in a string quartet could be a useful cover. In any case, it's a good string to have to your bow, so to speak,' said Miss Ball, blushing at her accidental joke.

‘Visual Arts includes a lot of theory, which is essential knowledge for spies, as artwork fetches millions on the black market. Practical skills are also useful, for example if you need to make a quick disguise or forgery. Dance is excellent for balance and general fitness, and Drama will give you skills to master going undercover. But aside from enhancing your spy skills, most importantly the Arts will allow you to relax and develop to your full potential.' Miss Ball dropped her voice, but the acoustics in the hall brought her words to the ears of the assembled cadets. ‘Was I allowed to say that?'