Secret Army Read online

  Going along the rope strained Paul’s hands, but the really hard work was done by his stomach muscles. The technique was to shuffle your knees forward as far as your wrists, then clamp your legs tightly around the rope and push forwards with your thighs and stomach while moving hand over hand.

  None of the trainees had mastered this technique quickly. In the early days they regularly fell off, even when crossing half the current distance with no weight on their backs. Paul was in agony before he was even halfway across, but once you’re suspended over several metres of near-freezing water there’s no alternative to carrying on.

  ‘Get some speed up!’ Khinde urged, as he took an easier route around the edge of the lake. ‘Don’t stop. Fight the pain.’

  After two excruciating minutes, Paul peered down and saw that he was in shallow water. He clutched his stomach and was almost doubled over as he staggered up the muddy embankment at the side of the lake.

  ‘You’re a fighter,’ Khinde said encouragingly, as he reached out and gave Paul an extremely welcome tug.

  A few metres beyond the lake’s edge was a hand cart with rocks mounded on its wooden platform. Paul exhaled with delight and exhaustion as he pushed the kit bag off his shoulders and tipped out the rocks.

  He was breathless and soaking wet, but running felt a hundred times easier without the rocks on his back, and from here he’d be back in the warmth of the school building within ten minutes.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Paul was used to finishing last. He came into the school building through the emergency exit at the back of the hall and found Rosie, PT and Joel stripped down to muddy underclothes and sitting close to the radiators holding enamel mugs filled with tea.

  ‘Hot cuppa?’ Joel’s ten-year-old brother Sam asked, as Paul hitched his sodden rugby shirt over his head.

  ‘Yeah, fantastic,’ Paul nodded, squelching as he sat in the doorway and pulled off his boots. ‘I’ll grab it in a second, but I’m busting for a piss.’

  Paul raced up, taking two steps at a time. His olive trousers were dripping and he was leaving damp sock prints up the staircase that would enrage Takada if he got caught.

  He decided to get a cloth and wipe them on his way down, but for now he was consumed by a burning bladder. He cut into the boys’ bathroom and groaned with relief as steaming yellow pee blasted the back of the urinal.

  ‘So beautiful!’ Paul told himself. ‘Ahh!’

  The cistern flushed in the stall directly behind and Luc emerged. He’d stripped down to his shorts after the training run and his torso bulged in all the places where Paul wished his did.

  The instant Luc saw Paul, he looked left and right to make sure no one was around before charging forwards and splattering him against the wall.

  ‘Bugger off,’ Paul moaned, as Luc clamped a beefy hand around the back of Paul’s neck and squished his cheeks out of shape.

  Luc put his lips close to Paul’s ear and spoke slowly. ‘How’s my new training partner?’

  ‘I’m not scared of you,’ Paul said unconvincingly, as he tried not to inhale Luc’s rank breath.

  ‘I’m gonna slam you down on that training mat,’ Luc said menacingly, as he pinned Paul’s chest against the wall with one knee and gripped his slender wrist with both hands. ‘I’m not going easy on you like Marc always does. I bet I can have you in tears within five minutes. Then, when Takada’s not looking, I’m gonna break your fingers.’

  ‘Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?’ Paul said, as Luc’s grip on his wrist tightened.

  Luc laughed. ‘Because it’s way more fun beating the snot out of a girly little wimp like you.’

  With that, Luc twisted his hands in opposite directions, delivering an excruciating Chinese burn.

  ‘See you on the training mat, wimp,’ Luc sneered as he swaggered out of the bathroom.

  Paul made a low moan as he buttoned his trousers and blotted a tear from the corner of his eye. It seemed grossly unfair that someone like Luc not only found the physical training comparatively easy, but then got to rub in his superiority by pushing him around.

  Paul felt sorry for himself: he’d made things worse by faking the injury and part of him was tempted to go downstairs to McAfferty’s office and tell her that he couldn’t take it any more. It had been made clear to all trainees that Espionage Research Unit B was made up of volunteers. But while there was nothing to stop Paul from leaving, his sister Rosie and his best friend Marc lived here and quitting now meant that ten weeks of training would be for nothing.

  ‘You look beat,’ Troy said cheerfully as he came in and stepped up to the urinal. He now wore the same kind of striped rugby shirt as the trainees.

  ‘The training kills you,’ Paul said, as he ran the huge red welt on his wrist under the tap and then splashed water up on to his face. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  ‘Have you been crying?’ Troy asked. ‘Your eyes are really red.’

  ‘No,’ Paul said defensively, as he turned off the tap. ‘Being out in the cold makes them watery.’

  He hurried downstairs. Luc had now joined Joel, PT and Rosie on the floor of the hall and he acted like nothing had happened.

  ‘There you go,’ Sam said, as he passed Paul an enamel mug filled with tea. ‘There’s a pile of towels by the door if you want to dry off.’

  But before Paul took his second mouthful, instructor Takada had stepped into the hall and brought his hands together in a sharp clap.

  ‘In pairs,’ Takada demanded, before leaning out of the door and shouting upstairs. ‘All Group-B boys down here now.’

  This would be Troy’s first taste of hand-to-hand combat training. He’d work with Sam and the two other Group-B students. They wouldn’t start their full training programme until two more boys were recruited, but in the meantime Khinde was taking them on cross-country runs to raise their fitness levels and they regularly joined Group-A’s indoor hand-to-hand combat training sessions.

  With Marc away there was an odd number of Group-A trainees. While Rosie got sent across to help Khinde train the Group-B kids, PT paired off with Joel and Paul nervously faced Luc.

  ‘Going down hard,’ Luc grinned, but Takada suspended Paul’s doom by giving everyone ten minutes of warm-up stretches and running on the spot.

  When Takada gave the order to face off and grapple, Paul found himself flying through the air and slamming hard on to a mat filled with horsehair. Within a second, Luc’s knees were crushing the wind out of his chest. Paul’s arm was at full stretch and his wrist and fingers were being painfully bent back.

  Paul looked desperately between the burly legs that were crushing him and saw Takada coming towards them. Paul hoped he’d tell Luc to take it easy, but instead Takada crouched over Paul and smiled.

  ‘How’s it going down there?’ Takada asked cheerfully. ‘Maybe when Luc has finished you’ll have a real injury to get you out of training.’

  ‘Sir, I’ll never lie to you again,’ Paul said breathlessly, as Luc wrenched his arm even tighter. ‘Just tell him to get off me.’

  ‘No breaks,’ Takada said unsympathetically. ‘Good work, Luc. Let him up and do it again.’

  Over the next thirty minutes Takada ordered the two pairs of boys from Group A to perform several drills: there were throwing exercises, trips, straight wrestling and an exercise where you had to disarm your opponent when he lunged at you with a fake dagger. But whatever the drill the result for Paul was much the same as Luc pummelled, kneed, twisted, elbowed and crushed.

  At the halfway point of the ninety-minute session, Takada told everyone in the hall to take a breather. Paul’s face was bright red, the elastic had been torn out of his underpants and his bare chest was covered with welts and scratches.

  ‘Roll on the second half,’ Luc grinned, as he stepped back from Paul and turned around, heading for the water fountain at the back of the hall.

  Luc was surprised to find Rosie blocking his path with her hands on her hips. ‘What are you d
oing?’ she asked angrily.

  Luc shrugged mischievously. Behind him Paul stood up and started hobbling away to get a drink.

  ‘Only doing what Takada told me, Rosie,’ Luc said.

  ‘I’m not saying Paul deserves to get off for lying his way out of two days’ training,’ Rosie said. ‘But he’s my kid brother and you’re going way over the top.’

  ‘I’d do anything for you, Rosie,’ Luc smiled. ‘I’ll give Paul a break, on one condition.’

  ‘What condition?’ Rosie asked suspiciously.

  Luc leaned forwards and whispered in Rosie’s ear: ‘We go outside after dark tonight, you take your shirt off and let me kiss you and feel your tits.’

  ‘You’re a filthy animal,’ Rosie shouted, as she thrust her palm at Luc’s head.

  Rosie was strong and if her blow had connected it would have splattered Luc’s nose all over his face, but Luc ducked and her hand skimmed over his head. Luc then hooked Rosie’s ankle and sent her sprawling towards the wall.

  ‘Hey,’ Takada shouted as he charged across the hall. ‘What the goodness?’

  Takada grabbed Luc, but in the two seconds before Khinde got hold of Rosie, she jammed her heel hard into Luc’s stomach. Everyone knew Rosie was sticking up for Paul and the jeers and shouts of the other kids were all in her favour, but Takada was angry. He let Luc go and eyeballed Rosie.

  ‘Paul will be punished,’ Takada shouted. ‘You are not my boss here.’

  ‘But it’s too much,’ Rosie protested. ‘Luc will end up breaking Paul’s arm or something.’

  ‘Paul is the cleverest boy here,’ Takada laughed. ‘It’s up to him whether he wins or not.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Rosie screamed. ‘Luc is twice Paul’s size.’

  ‘OK,’ Takada shouted. ‘Time for an important lesson. Everyone in Group A and Group B, gather around me in a circle. Break is over.’

  There were a few groans as sweating bodies that hadn’t reached the front of the queue for the water fountain trailed back and sat cross-legged, facing Mr Takada.

  ‘Lions are the mightiest animals in the jungle,’ Takada began. ‘Ten times stronger than any man. Their legs can crush a human chest. Their teeth shatter human bone. But in the jungle, it is man who hunts the lion. Why is that?’

  ‘Because they have guns,’ Sam answered cheekily.

  There was some laughter, but it wasn’t the answer Takada wanted.

  ‘And why do men have guns?’ Takada asked. ‘Or perhaps I should ask, why don’t lions have guns?’

  ‘Lions are stupid,’ Troy said.

  ‘You have the answer,’ Takada said, as he beamed at Troy. ‘Men are smarter than lions and in the long run, brains will always beat brawn.’

  After the exhausting run and a half-hour pummelling, Paul failed to see what good his brain was going to do him. The hunter might be able to bugger off into the jungle and go and grab a spear, but what were his brains going to do when he was trapped on a two-and-a-half-metre square of horsehair-stuffed matting with Luc belting the daylights out of him?

  ‘Group A pair up for straight wrestling,’ Takada ordered.

  Luc grinned as he charged forwards. He reached around Paul’s waist, grabbed the back of both thighs and lifted Paul’s feet, sending him crashing face first into the mat. Paul squirmed as Luc grabbed his shoulder, rolled him on to his back and pinned his right shoulder under his knee.

  Luc could have put his other knee on Paul’s left shoulder. This would count as a pin and under wrestling rules he’d have to stand back up. But Luc liked to make Paul suffer, so he clamped his thighs tightly around Paul’s chest and rolled on to his back so that Paul dangled in the air, crushed between Luc’s knees, hardly able to breathe.

  When Luc released the knee hold, Paul crawled rapidly off of his chest. Luc grasped Paul’s ankles, bent the younger boy’s feet up towards his buttocks and pressed down so hard that Paul thought the tendons in his knees were about to rupture.

  ‘Please,’ Paul screamed.

  ‘Why don’t you use your big brain now?’ Luc teased. ‘Think your way out of it.’

  ‘Oh god,’ Paul gasped, as tears streaked down his face. ‘Let me go.’

  Luc finally set Paul free when Takada came over and told him to stop. Paul looked pleadingly at the Japanese instructor, but he showed no mercy.

  ‘Don’t lie there,’ Takada ordered. ‘Get up and fight!’

  Luc was a typical bully. He enjoyed the pain he’d inflicted when he bent back Paul’s knees and predictably he tried the same move. Knowing what was coming, Paul rolled on to his back and kicked up with both feet as Luc lunged forwards to grab his ankles.

  Paul’s feet sank into Luc’s belly. Unfortunately Luc’s stomach was as strong as the rest of his body and even the two-footed kick was only enough to knock Luc off balance. Paul sat up as Luc thumped down on the mat beside him.

  Paul had spent so much time getting mauled that he’d forgotten how to make an attacking move and he wasted a valuable second as Luc’s ankle flailed in the air. When Paul did spring forwards he grabbed Luc’s foot, twisted it with all his might then landed hard with both knees on the back of Luc’s thigh, making him moan with pain. It wasn’t much of a moan but this small triumph gave Paul a surge of confidence.

  He lunged again, trying to lock his hands around Luc’s neck. But Luc rolled on to his back, then bucked violently, flipping Paul’s entire body into the air. Normal service had resumed and Luc had Paul’s shoulders pinned beneath his knees and a hand squishing his head against the mat.

  ‘At last, something I want to see!’ Takada said triumphantly. ‘Paul uses brain and achieves small victory. You’ve had enough for today, Paul. Take early shower.’

  Paul smiled with relief as he hobbled away from the mat. His knees killed and he felt like he could roll in a ball and sleep for about fifty hours, but he’d got through his punishment without any serious injuries and the desperate struggle against a massively superior opponent probably had improved his combat skills.

  ‘Paul will do better when he fights Luc again tomorrow,’ Takada said.

  Paul felt like a bullet had passed through his heart. ‘You said my punishment was for one day,’ he protested, raising a single finger into the air.

  ‘Are you small and weak, or big and strong?’ Takada asked.

  ‘Small and weak,’ Paul admitted, as beads of sweat dripped from his head on to the polished floor around his feet.

  ‘So most people you fight will be bigger and stronger than you,’ Takada said. ‘You must learn how to fight them. With regular practice against a stronger opponent, your techniques will improve much.’

  Paul looked crushed, but he couldn’t think what to say and ended up resorting to, ‘It’s not fair!’

  ‘Luc will also learn to deal with stronger opponents,’ Takada continued.

  ‘Ha!’ Luc spluttered. ‘None of the others is as tough as me.’

  Takada smiled before spinning dramatically on the ball of his left foot. He took a short run, grabbed Luc’s upper arm and then swept his feet away. Luc landed on the mat with the loudest body slam in Espionage Research Unit B’s short history.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Rosie gasped when she saw Marc’s singed eyebrows and peeling forehead. ‘What happened to you?’

  They were in the hallway on the first floor of the school building. Marc held his pigskin bag and the Harrods package he’d received that morning.

  ‘Oh, just the usual,’ Marc explained. ‘I rescued a man from a burning building and inadvertently helped save the entire unit from getting canned.’

  Rosie smiled. ‘What’s in there? Presents for us?’

  ‘All for me,’ Marc said, as he theatrically clutched the package to his chest. ‘Though if you ask nicely I might give you a piece of Harrods banana fudge.’

  ‘I love fudge,’ Rosie said, clapping her hands. ‘So how come your voice is so rough? I thought you were having that br
oken bit of tooth cut out.’

  ‘Smoke inhalation,’ Marc explained. ‘They tested my lungs at the hospital. The doctor says it’s just minor burns and I’ll be OK to resume training in a week or so.’

  Rosie looked confused. ‘Why did you inhale smoke at the dentist?’

  Marc shook his head and sounded slightly irritated. ‘Not at the dentist, I just told you. We got bombed last night! We were staying at Henderson’s gentlemen’s club and it got burned down. I dragged an old guy out through the smoke.’

  ‘Oh,’ Rosie said, putting her hand over her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry! The way you said it I thought you were joking.’

  ‘I’ve got bandages on my hand,’ Marc said, aghast, as he held it up in the air. ‘I know dentists are butchers but you’ve really got problems if you come out looking like this.’

  ‘Good point,’ Rosie smiled. ‘I was being thick.’

  ‘The present is from the old man I rescued. So what are you doing up here anyway, have afternoon lessons been called off ?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘We’ve just had Mrs Donnelley for two hours of English and maths, but I came up to check up on the casualties before target practice.’

  Marc was concerned. ‘Who got hurt? Was it explosives training?’

  ‘Walk this way and all will be revealed,’ Rosie said, adopting a serious tone while smirking to show that she found the situation highly amusing.

  The pair walked through to the Group-A dormitory and reached Paul’s bed.

  Paul opened one eye and poked his head above the blankets when he heard their footsteps. He forced a smile. ‘Hey, Marc! Glad you’re back.’

  ‘As you know, Paul decided to fake an ankle injury to get out of training,’ Rosie said, keeping up her sarcastic commentary. ‘Sadly, the silly Billy also decided to help Mrs Henderson catch dormice to feed her tarantulas and got spotted by Mr Takada running full pelt around her back garden.’

  Marc smiled. ‘I told you faking was a dumb idea.’