CHERUB: Knight

16: Grey

Kazakov lined the six remaining trainees up in a patch of sand, packs on their backs and standing at attention. George was pleased that Rex and Jemima seemed to have done okay and were dusty but apparently unscathed. The missing trainee was Ralph, leaving Beatrice standing on her own, sweating with the weight of her equipment on her back.

"So, day one hundred, hm?" Kazakov said, shaking his head. "Take a look at each other and see what you notice."

George looked around. He noticed that the other four trainees seemed to have suffered a lot less from sunburn than he and Letty had, but apart from that he wasn't sure what Kazakov was getting at. The instructors' questions were often a trap so George kept his mouth shut.

"Suzuki, you tell us," Kazakov barked at Jemima.

"Five and six are clean, sir?"

"Correct!" Kazakov declared, giving George and Letty an evil look. "These two have been relaxing with air conditioning and showers while the rest of us have suffered in the desert. They almost look comfortable."

The skin was peeling from George's forehead and he felt like anything but comfortable, but he said nothing, hoping that Kazakov didn't have anything too difficult in mind.

"So, you've all completed the survival course and there are only a few hours left until the end of training," Kazakov continued, waving an arm in the direction of the setting sun. "I expect that you're wondering where your grey shirts are."

Nobody said anything, George noticed a couple of nervous faces out of the corner of his eye.

"The good news is that you'll have your shirts and we'll be on the way to the airport in an hour. The bad news is that the shirts are an hour's walk away, along with your rides to the airport," Kazakov explained. "The truck leaves in fifty-nine minutes. If you want to get a shirt, I suggest you start following the dry stream bed immediately."

All six trainees set off, but Kazakov laid a giant hand on George and Letty's shoulders.

"For you two, there's some more bad news," he said, sucking in air between his teeth as the other four disappeared at a jog. "Firstly, since you two are so well-rested, you get to wait here with me for half an hour."

George tried calculating in his head. They'd probably have to run the whole way, but they could ditch their equipment and it would be cool in the desert at night. A half-hour run was really nothing too difficult, and even if it was hard to navigate, the others would have worked it out already and left them clues like footprints.

"Secondly, there are only five grey shirts in the bag," Kazakov revealed with a grin. "Last one there gets to restart from day one."

The half-hour wait was torture. Kazakov wouldn't let them talk, so they sat in silence, contemplating. George came to realise that he would have to play the gentleman and give Letty the final shirt, otherwise he'd never live it down on campus. Stealing a grey shirt from a girl would haunt him for the rest of his career as an agent. The thought of having to restart made him feel miserable, and he directed his anger towards Kazakov. It was totally unfair to fail him just because they'd taken the initiative. Getting the lift was probably actually better training for real missions than a trek in the desert, but Kazakov didn't seem at all interested. The more George thought about it, the more he felt like he wanted to cry, but he didn't want to cry in front of a girl.

"Okay five and six, off you go," Kazakov said, looking at his watch. "I'm taking the car on a longer route so don't try following."

George jumped to his feet and followed Letty as she threw down her pack except for a bottle of water and began running the route of the dry stream bed. Without the equipment it was easy to run, but George paced himself once he'd caught up with his partner.