LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Yeah,” scoffed Georgie. “Some life—with Dad running the country now as some kind of dictator. I suppose that’s OK, isn’t it?” Her voice was growing more and more sarcastic, and tears brimmed in her eyes. “And how can you act like it’s OK that we’re never going to see Jimmy again?”

      Helen pulled her daughter towards her, but Georgie held back.

      “We will see him again,” Helen insisted. “It might not be for a long time, but we will see him. One day we’ll all be back together. For the time being, isn’t it better that we’re alive and safe? Isn’t that better than running across the world with NJ7 trying to kill us every second of the day? That’s why Jimmy did this. He did it so we could stop running. You need to be back at school, getting on with your life, spending time with your friends…We need to go home.”

      Georgie wiped her eyes. “How will it be home without Jimmy? And without Dad?”

      “We have to try.”

      “You don’t even remember,” Georgie mumbled.

      “Remember what?”

      Georgie stared at her mother for a long time, her face full of bitterness. Then she looked past her, to Felix.

      After a long pause, Felix’s face lit up. “Oh my God!” he gasped. “You mean his birthday, right?”

      Georgie nodded. “It’s next week.”

      Helen stood up and ran her hands through her hair. “Is it nearly April already?” she whispered. “I guess with everything else I didn’t notice the date.”

      “I haven’t got him a present,” Felix blurted out.

      “Of course you haven’t,” said Georgie. “When have we had time for shopping?”

      “Yeah, but, you know, a birthday’s a birthday, even if you are on the run from the Secret Service. You know what? I think they should have some kind of rule that nobody is allowed to try to kill you on your birthday.” Georgie rolled her eyes. Once Felix got started, there was no point trying to stop him. “And if you do try to kill someone on their birthday, they should be allowed to keep all your presents when it’s your birthday. And your cards. No wait, you can keep your cards. Nobody wants cards anyway. So just the presents.”

      “You’re a nutcase,” Georgie mumbled—but a smile had crept on to her face. Felix was bursting with energy again and bouncing on the spot.

      He turned to Colonel Keays. “Can we send Jimmy a card?” he asked suddenly. “It can be secret. Nobody has to know about it but us. And Jimmy, obviously. And you can give it to him. You can, can’t you?”

      Colonel Keays was taken aback. “Jimmy’s deep in hiding,” he mumbled. “A team of agents is making sure nobody knows who he is. He’s officially dead.”

      “But he can still have a birthday, can’t he?”

      Keays shook his head in wonder and let out a deep chuckle. “Jimmy’s lucky to have a friend like you,” he announced, “and a sister who loves him as much as you do, Georgie.” He paused to think for a second, then went on, “I don’t think we should start sending cards to people who are meant to be dead. It’s not good to have anything identifiable lying around that might give the game away to NJ7. But how about you write Jimmy a message? Don’t sign though. Don’t even write his name on it. I’ll make sure Jimmy gets it.”

      He pulled out a notepad and a pencil from his inside pocket.

      “Wicked,” Felix beamed. “I’m going to write him the funniest birthday message ever.”

      “Wait,” said Georgie, “I’ll give you a hand.” She moved towards Felix, but her eyes were studying Colonel Keays. “Let’s write it together.” She took the pencil and a sheet of paper from Keays. “Colonel Keays,” she said quietly. “Can I ask you something?”

      “Of course.”

      “Why did you help us escape from Britain in the first place, if you were just going to send us back?”

      “I’m sending you back now that it’s safe,” Keays explained, his expression completely blank.

      “You mean, now that we don’t have Jimmy—and you do?”

      Keays didn’t move. His eyes locked on to Georgie’s. “Write your message,” he said, pushing the paper into Georgie’s hand. “And have a good flight home.”

      Georgie and Felix huddled over the sheet of paper in a corner of the room.

      “Thank you, Colonel,” said Helen. “I know they seem…ungrateful, but your help means a lot to us.”

      Keays nodded silently. Then Georgie spun round, waving the paper above her head.

      “OK, we’re done. Do you want to add something, Mum?” She thrust the paper into her mother’s hand. Helen examined it as if she’d never seen a page of writing before. Her whole body seemed to freeze. Georgie held out the pencil, but noticed that her mum’s lips were trembling.

      “It’s OK,” said Georgie, “I’ll put ‘love from Mum’ or something at the bottom.” She pulled the pencil back towards her. Helen Coates turned away, wiping her eyes.

      “Don’t worry,” said Keays. “Your son did the right thing. It’s better this way. For everyone. Jimmy is going to be fine. You have my promise.”

      “Where is he now?” Helen whispered.

      “I can’t tell you.”

      “Where is he?” Helen insisted. “I need to know where my son is.”

      “At this moment, Jimmy is absolutely fine.” Keays took the note from Georgie, folded it carefully and slipped it into his pocket. “I absolutely guarantee it. Jimmy is happy and Jimmy is safe.”

       07 SUSHI FOR ONE

      Jimmy’s legs hit the water and his whole body pitched forwards. Huge waves lifted him up, then sucked him down again. With incredible force he was pulled under the surface. His breathing was so fast he was afraid his heart might stop. But he wasn’t panicking. He unclipped his parachute and kicked out with his legs, desperately trying to stop his whole body going numb. He could feel the cold scratching at his bones.

      His programming surged through him, controlling his muscles. It would never let him give in to the cold or the water. He was at least two metres under the surface now. Salt water stung his eyes, but Jimmy kept them open. At last another of his amazing capabilities was kicking in: his in-built night-vision enhanced the light. The underwater world took on a rich, blue haze. Jimmy would have been lost without it. Now he was able to fight towards the surface.

      The ocean churned with such force that Jimmy felt like he was a sock in a washing machine. He wanted to thrash his limbs. He wanted to panic, but his body wouldn’t let him. Instead, his arms and legs moved calmly, with a maximum of precision and efficiency. His assassin’s programming guided him back to the surface within thirty seconds.

      His arms wrapped themselves over one of the largest fragments of the plane’s fuselage. The air trapped underneath it supported Jimmy’s weight. He flopped his chest on to it, clutching it as the waves threw him around like a shuttlecock.

      Jimmy’s lower half still dangled in the water and he kept his legs moving in a vain fight against the cold. Every few seconds he wiped his eyes. Through the spray, he could see the carpet of flaming debris spread out across the water. Beyond that was a vast empty space, stretching out between him and the horizon. It was overwhelming. But only for a second—then a wave as strong as a wall jumped up to block his view.

      There were thoughts racing through his head that sounded like an overheard

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