Revenge (15 page)

“They’ve done it again,” Felix exclaimed, tearing open his cardboard container of chicken chow mein. “Look how big the box is, then look at what’s inside.” He tipped it forwards for Jimmy to see. “It’s only half full.”

Jimmy dipped in with his chopsticks to steal a chunk of chicken.

“And getting less full by the second,” he mumbled.

“Hey!” Felix pulled his box back. “You’ve got your own. I wasn’t offering. I was just saying, you know, they fool you by making the box big. We should tell on them to the CIA. It’s well unfair.”

“Don’t believe everything you see,” Neil Muzbeke chipped in from the sofa. “Now where’s ours? Don’t make me come down there for it.”

Felix had taken charge of fetching the food again. He was handing out the boxes from a plastic bag on the floor.

“But Mrs Kai-Ro knows me,” he insisted, passing his father a box of chilli beef. “I’m a special customer now. She even showed me her stick insects.”

Jimmy eyed his carton suspiciously.

“Not in the food, stupid,” Felix reassured him. “She keeps them in a tank. Like pets. There was this one that looked dead, but it was actually just a stick. But then there was this other one and that was actually a stick insect, but that also looked dead. Then another one…”

“Is there an end to this story?” Georgie cut in.

“Wait, I’m not done.” Felix was waving his chopsticks about frantically. Jimmy didn’t realise anybody could get so worked up about stick insects.

“And this last one,” Felix went on at a rapid pace, “I thought it was just a stick, but it was actually a stick insect, except it was, like, dead.”

Jimmy laughed, almost snorting noodles up his nose. It was a wonderful feeling to have something to laugh about.

“Yeah,” Felix added. “She had to take that one out of the tank.”

“Sounds like you’ve gone out of your tank,” Jimmy muttered with a smile. “So what else did you lot do all day – apart from flirting with an old Korean woman?”

They had spent so long that evening going over and over what had happened to Jimmy that he was relieved to be thinking about something else.

“First me and Georgie set up a rota,” Felix began. “You know – to take it in turns to keep watch, in case those two guys who attacked you came back.”

Jimmy felt another lurch of anxiety in his stomach. Just when he thought he was out of danger, Felix had reminded him that even this ‘safehouse’ was far from safe.

“But nobody turned up,” said Felix, “and we got bored. So mostly we…” He stopped himself. Jimmy could never have known it, but what Felix was about to say was that he and Georgie had spent a lot of time discussing Jimmy – and the identity of Jimmy’s father. After an awkward pause, Felix finally finished his sentence.

“…we gave up and watched TV.”

Felix’s mother rolled her eyes. “Sounds like America’s already having an effect on you,” she groaned.

Felix responded with a half-smile. Georgie reached out and hugged her brother round the neck. Jimmy was taken aback by the sudden display of affection.

In the background the news rumbled on. An expert from the American Government was busy explaining how a crazy gunman acting alone could have hidden himself in the roof of MoMA.

Two men marched through Chinatown together without saying a word, keeping their heads down. It was the
middle of the night, but there were still a few people about and they didn’t want to attract attention. They were dressed inconspicuously in jeans and hoodies – black is no camouflage when the streets of Chinatown are plastered with flashing neon signs. One was carrying an umbrella. They were both wearing black leather gloves.

When they reached the Star of Manchuria they stopped, not even needing to look at each other to know what the plan was. The one with the umbrella unscrewed the handle, a big tortoiseshell hook. It was attached to a thin black cord that extended from inside the body of the umbrella. The other man nodded at him now as they waited for the street to clear. A drunken couple tottered round the corner. Their steps echoed against the buildings and seemed to beat out every excruciating second. At last, they faded.

Then, in one swift movement, the man with the umbrella lobbed the hook up to the second-floor window. His aim was perfect. The cord reeled out from the rest of the umbrella in his hands and the hook caught on the window ledge. Neither man hesitated now. Any moment somebody could walk into that street and see them. They braced their legs against the building and, one after the other, pulled themselves up the cord.

In seconds they were at the window. The two tall wiry figures waited here, both checking that the street was still clear. Only now did they disguise their faces, pulling
balaclavas over their heads. Neither said a word when he noticed the other man’s hands shaking. Nerves were natural. They knew the power of the target that waited for them inside.

Jimmy wasn’t sleeping. How could he after everything that had happened to him that day? And now he was worried about his mother too. He ached to hear that door opening and his mother coming back with Viggo, all smiles. Then the CIA would hide them and they could pretend to be a family. Or maybe, Jimmy thought, it wouldn’t be pretending.

He wished he’d never let Viggo get out of the Sedan. No matter how furious the man had been, everything Viggo had said made sense, didn’t it? Jimmy was certain that he was a good man, even if what he was doing didn’t come from his sense of justice or belief in democracy any more, but from his anger. That didn’t mean his actions were wrong, did it?

Maybe it
was
time somebody tried to crush NJ7. But Jimmy had already had his chance to take revenge on his ex-father. Something had stopped him then. Now the same feeling told him that perhaps attacking NJ7 the way they’d attacked him wouldn’t be the best revenge. So what would be?

Suddenly, he sat up in bed. He’d heard a noise. At first his heart jumped – was it his mother coming
back? He quickly realised that was just wishful thinking.

Next to him, Felix and Neil hadn’t stirred. Neil Muzbeke’s snores filled the room, but Jimmy had to listen past them, searching to identify whatever it was he had heard. Ever so gently, he shook Felix.

“Wha…?!” Felix clammed up immediately when he saw Jimmy’s finger on his lips. Jimmy waited, listening hard, then he pointed at the window. That was where the noise was coming from – his senses screamed it at him, though he would never have been able to explain why. It was instinct.

Felix rolled over and elbowed his father. The man just spluttered and snored a little louder. Felix tried again, while Jimmy padded softly to the window. Neil Muzbeke wasn’t coming round.

“Dad!” Felix whispered, way too loud.

“Shh!” Jimmy insisted.

“Wha…?!” Neil Muzbeke lumbered over, his eyes bleary. Felix clamped his hand down over his father’s mouth before any more noise could escape.

The three of them mimed instructions to each other, Jimmy taking command. Felix and Neil backed into the far corners of the room, while Jimmy crouched under the window. His heart was thudding in his chest, but slowly, under control. Every bit of him tingled, right down to the ends of his fingers. His brain was held in that warm glow – his programming.
Fragments of information filtered through to his consciousness – assailants waiting outside. Two of them. Amateurs. Probably the same two he had seen off the night before.

The noise they’d made gave them away – these were no soldiers. Jimmy remembered how artfully Zafi had broken into the Bed and Breakfast place in England. Compared to her, these guys were a circus parade. But that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. Anyone who wants you dead is a threat.

At last it came – the smashing of glass. Fragments peppered Jimmy’s head, but he’d been expecting that. The intruders were smart enough to muffle the noise by holding up a blanket against the window, but now that same blanket was blocking their view.

Jimmy plucked two shards of glass from the floor – one in each hand. Then he swivelled, so fast that the two men were still standing on the window ledge. With both hands at the same time, Jimmy slashed the backs of two of the four ankles. He heard both men stifle their cries of pain. Blood spattered Jimmy’s face. He dropped the glass and grabbed the men by their feet – without Jimmy catching them they both would have fallen to the pavement.

Jimmy yanked the men into the room, flinging them over his shoulders. They crashed on to the bed, utterly dazed. As soon as they landed, Felix and Neil pounced. They bundled blankets over the two masked intruders,
smothering their limbs so tightly that they couldn’t move. Felix had a bit more trouble than his father – he didn’t have the advantage of Neil’s body weight – so Jimmy wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and threw himself in as well.

It was barely a minute before the two intruders stopped struggling. They knew they’d been caught out. Jimmy reached out of the window again and pulled in their extending cord. Still without saying anything, he rolled the two men over and bound their hands. Finally, he sat them up on the mattresses, back to back.

“You better go and check the girls are OK,” he instructed Felix. “Bring them down – just in case.” Felix dashed out to do his job.

“Who are they, Jimmy?” asked Neil Muzbeke. “NJ7? CIA? Mafia?!”

Jimmy shook his head. “No way,” he muttered.

“Who then?”

“Let’s ask them.”

Jimmy reached forwards and peeled off the two balaclavas, revealing two red faces. The men were surprisingly young – probably early or mid-twenties, with hair crushed by their disguises and egos bruised by their speedy defeat. One was blond with a wispy beard. The other was dark with sharp features and looked slightly younger.

“You’ll pay, Jimmy Coates,” seethed the younger man. His accent was a polished English.

“Who are you?” Jimmy shot back. “And what do you think I owe you?”

Before they could answer, the door opened and in burst Georgie, with Felix’s mother close behind.

“Oh my God!” Georgie shrieked. Jimmy was startled to see a huge smile on her face. “How’s Eva? Is she here?”

“Eva?” Jimmy gasped.

“Eva?” gasped the two men on the floor. “Eva’s dead.”

Jimmy stared at them in horror. Everybody froze.

“You killed her,” said the fair-haired man.

“What?” Jimmy felt like he’d been plunged into a bath full of ice.

“That’s why we’re here.”

Jimmy was staggered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he pleaded, almost to himself. His blood was flooded with horror. What if he had killed without even knowing it? And killed someone who was a friend?

“Jimmy didn’t kill anybody,” Georgie said quickly. “And especially not Eva. Why would he do that? She’s taking a massive risk to help us.”

“Hey!” Jimmy shouted to his sister. “Careful what you say. We don’t know who these men are yet.”

“Of course we do,” Georgie replied. “This is Quinn and Rick – Eva’s brothers.”

Jimmy stared at them. It felt like the cogs in his brain were struggling to churn through tar.

“I think somebody should explain what’s going on,” suggested Felix’s mother calmly. “And can we put something over that window? It’s freezing in here.”

Neil rushed to hang the blanket over the empty curtain rail. It didn’t make a huge difference, but at least now the wind wasn’t blustering in everybody’s faces.

“Right,” Olivia went on. “Now one at a time.”

Georgie was quickest off the mark. “These are Eva’s brothers,” she began. “But I’ve no idea what they’re
doing here. What are you doing here?” She turned to them. “Who told you Eva was dead? She’s working for Miss Bennett at NJ7.”

“What?” Quinn was disgusted. The hairs on his chin trembled. “But Eva was abducted by you, and then Miss Bennett said she was dead.”

“Wait, wait,” Jimmy interrupted. “First of all, Eva was not ‘abducted’. She insisted on coming with us and we couldn’t get rid of her.”

“Hey!” Georgie protested. “That’s mean.”

“Well, it’s true – I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it is kind of true,” Felix agreed. “I couldn’t stand her either.” Then he quickly added, “But I can now – she’s cool. Well, you know, for a girl.”

Jimmy was thankful for Felix’s support and carried on explaining.

“The only people who would kill Eva are NJ7,” he said cautiously. “Maybe they’ve found out about her being on our side.”

Rick was aghast. “So you’re telling us Eva is still alive, and working for Miss Bennett at NJ7?”

Jimmy, Georgie and Felix nodded as one. Rick and Quinn peered over their shoulders at each other. Eventually, Quinn broke the silence.

“I can’t believe it.” There were tears creeping down his face.

“Wait,” snapped his brother. “How come you’re so sure this is true?”

“You’d rather trust Miss Bennett than these guys?” Quinn answered. “Georgie and Eva were best friends. She was always coming round.”

“We are friends,” Georgie corrected him. “I’m sure Eva’s still alive. She’s too clever for them to find her out.”

“I hope you’re right,” whispered Quinn.

“Quick,” Jimmy urged. “Get something to bandage their ankles.”

He rushed to untie the two brothers, while Felix fetched two cushion covers from the sofa in the next room.

“I’ll never forget what Miss Bennett told us,” said Quinn. “We knew something was wrong. We hadn’t heard anything about where Eva was or even who was looking for her. But nobody would answer our questions or let us get anywhere near Miss Bennett to find out from her. It was impossible. In the end, we had to threaten to chain ourselves to a pod on the London Eye before she agreed to meet us.”

Jimmy listened closely as Quinn and Rick secured the makeshift bandages round their wounds.

“We met her in the lobby of the MI6 building,” Quinn went on. “The
lobby
, Jimmy – they wouldn’t even let us into an office.” Jimmy could see the ferocity in his eyes. “We all went – us two and Mum and Dad. We were going to ask questions and stamp our feet. None of us was expecting bad news. But then she told us.
Straight out. I can still remember the words she used.” There was a catch in Quinn’s voice as he spoke. He was doing everything he could to hold his emotions back.

“She said, ‘I have some terrible news’ – that’s when I knew. Even before she finished the sentence. It was in the way she spoke. So cold. And she wouldn’t look any of us in the eyes. ‘Nobody is to blame,’ she said. ‘It’s a horrible tragedy. Eva is dead. She died in the name of her country.’” Quinn shook his head. His lips were trembling. Next to him, Rick held his head in his hands.

“Nobody said anything at first,” Quinn explained in a whisper. “Just silence. It went on forever. Then Mum collapsed. She just fell down and Dad had to catch her. Then she started screaming. I think I probably did too. I don’t know. It’s all blurred after that. But I remember Rick standing frozen next to me and the unbelievable anger burning in here.” He jabbed his thumb into his solar-plexus.

Rick nodded his agreement. “I remember shouting,” he said. “But I don’t know what I said. I couldn’t control myself. I probably would have tried to rip that woman’s throat open if Quinn hadn’t pulled me away.”

“She muttered something about counsellors, I think,” Quinn added. “But we weren’t interested. I just knew I had to get Mum home as quickly as possible, then do something to put things right.”

“They told us Eva died for her country,” Rick spat. His voice was twisted with bitterness. “So we decided somebody should die for her.”

They looked up at Jimmy, but as soon as they saw him, their expressions changed from fury to confusion. They stared into Jimmy’s face, completely fascinated.

“You’re so human,” said Rick. “I thought you were some kind of machine or robot.”

Jimmy looked away. Hearing himself described like that still stung and he hated the way Rick was staring at him.

“We were going to kill you,” Rick went on, his voice growing softer and softer. “How could we have been so stupid? We were going to kill a child?” He turned to his older brother.

“I’m so sorry,” said Quinn, choking back his emotion. “We thought you deserved it. We were acting on what we thought was true – you can’t blame us.”

“He can blame us,” Rick countered quickly, “and he should. We should have known better. I’m sorry, Jimmy.”

Jimmy nodded uncomfortably. It was the first time anybody had tried to kill him and then apologised about it.
Better to apologise for nothing than kill me for
nothing
, he thought.

“It’s not your fault,” Jimmy mumbled. “It’s NJ7. Miss Bennett lies to everybody to get her own way – to get the Government’s way. They’re the real enemy.”

Quinn and Rick nodded solemnly.

“Stay with us tonight,” Georgie suggested.

“No, it’s OK,” said Quinn, wiping his face and taking a deep breath. “We’ve got a room at the hostel on East 14th. We’ll stay there until we can get a flight back to London. If there’s a chance that Eva’s still alive, then we have to get back to England and find her.”

“But if you ever need anything,” his brother added, “you can call on us.”

The two of them stood up wearily. The pain from their injured ankles and their confusion made them far less agile now than when they had taken Jimmy by surprise the night before.

They didn’t stay long after that. As soon as they’d said a warm goodbye to everybody – and apologised again – they were gone. The others were left silent. To Jimmy, it didn’t seem like there was anything left to say.

Neil Muzbeke soon found a big enough piece of discarded crate at the back of the restaurant to patch up the window. Jimmy swept up the glass. Soon he was shivering under his blankets.

He knew that he should have felt safer now. But if anything, he felt even more uneasy than he had before. It wasn’t just Quinn and Rick’s terrible ordeal that disturbed him. It was something tugging away at the back of his mind, like a dull pain, steadily increasing in intensity.

He finally fell asleep with one question swirling round his head: how come Eva’s brothers had been able to find him, but, so far, NJ7 hadn’t?

Jimmy’s eyes burst open and his pupils rapidly dilated. His lungs hauled in a deep breath.
SILVERCUP
. What did that mean? The word buzzed round his head. Then he realised it wasn’t the word – it was an image. Even with his eyes open, he could see it: SILVERCUP written in huge, old-fashioned red letters. The top of the word was flat, while the lower edge of the letters curved up to form an arch. Seeing it made his eyes burn.

Jimmy’s despair churned inside him. Just when he thought he’d finished with the pain of having images in his head, this came along – and it was so much stronger than the K or the 53 or the rainbow stripes had been. He rubbed his eyes and clutched at his head. Maybe he was just overtired. But the more he tried to relax, the more clearly defined the letters of Silvercup became. And it wasn’t alone. Within seconds, another image swamped his brain: four slim turrets, each one painted in three bands: red, white, then red again.

No
, Jimmy urged internally.
Get out
. But his brain wasn’t finished. There was one more image and it came with that intense feeling of dread. It was a ruin. It looked like a small castle, with brown stones and pointed gothic arches above the windows. Except in Jimmy’s
mind it was abandoned and overgrown. Grey tentacles of ivy attacked the brickwork. Jimmy felt like his brain was suffering the same way – these images grew within it, creeping into every corner, attacking his thoughts. He jumped up and shook out every limb.

“Come on,” he hissed under his breath, and told himself over and over that it was just his imagination. But he didn’t believe it. The images felt almost more real than the room around him. They swallowed up everything he saw and twisted it into the shape of his vision: SILVERCUP, four red and white towers, the ruin. Jimmy shivered.

“What’s up?” It was Felix. “What time is it?”

Jimmy didn’t answer. In silence he walked into the other room. Felix followed, leaving his father snoring. Jimmy paced the room, like a wild beast in a cage.

“You all right?” Felix asked, his face still bleary with sleep. The only light was from the neon signs outside the window. They cast weird shadows across the walls and gave both boys faces like demons.

“More images,” Jimmy panted. They were so intense in his head that even speaking was difficult. Instead, he went back to grab his notebook and the pens he kept by the mattress. He came back scribbling frantically, his head cocked to one side and his eyes utterly focused.

As soon as one page was full he flipped over to the next one and kept drawing. Felix looked over his shoulder.

“SILVERCUP?” he asked. “What’s that mean?”

Jimmy shook his head in desperation. “How am I meant to know?” he blurted. “Last time I thought my head was telling me an assassin was going to kill the President.”

“It was right, wasn’t it?” Felix pointed out.

“Yeah, but the assassin was me.” He threw his notebook to the floor. “Who knows what this new stuff is going to force me to do?”

Felix tried to get Jimmy to sit down, but his friend was having none of it.

“You don’t understand!” Jimmy whispered in a rage. “It’s like there’s somebody else in here.” He pounded his head. “They’re controlling me. Getting me to do anything they want. I’m not putting up with it any more.” His eyes were turning red. “I have to stop it!”

Suddenly, Jimmy dropped to his knees and cried out in pain.

“What is it?” Felix asked desperately. “Are you OK?”

Jimmy’s hand pressed against his temple.

“Another attack?” Felix rushed to the sink and fetched a glass of water. His hands were shaking, spilling large drops all over the floor. Jimmy took the glass and downed it in one, then threw himself forward on to his hands and knees.

“Thanks,” he gasped. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Felix whispered. “It’s not you. It’s not your fault.”

Jimmy wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and very slowly drew himself up on to his feet. He stared out of the window, taking deeper and deeper breaths. When he spoke, his voice was hardly audible. “Whatever it takes, I have to stop this.”

Then, behind them, came a deep, clear voice. It was an old voice, but distinguished – and English.

“I think I can help you with that.”

Jimmy and Felix spun round. The door of the apartment was open. In the doorway stood one man neither of them had ever expected to see again.