‘We’ll be back in two hours,’ Smoke added. ‘If you’re very lucky, we might bring you some food.’

5. BOXES

Lauren Adams got a twinge of nostalgia as she crossed leaf-strewn grass towards CHERUB campus’ seven-storey main building. The dishes and aerials that had adorned the roof were gone, the outer cladding removed, leaving a concrete skeleton and a dolls-house-like view into bedrooms and offices stripped of everything that wasn’t screwed to a wall.

The ground-floor canteen made her particularly sad, remembering the sense of excitement when you came out of lessons and looked forward to seeing the gang. Everyone sitting around the tables, teasing and gossiping. Food fights. Early breakfasts with Rat when she first got the sense that she was falling for him …

‘OK,’ James said, as he stopped walking and turned around. Lauren was taken by the calm authority in her brother’s tone. A teacher’s voice. ‘Listen up.’

Besides James, Lauren and Ning, a dozen teenaged CHERUB agents were in tow. They were a mix of reluctant volunteers and kids on punishment.

‘I’ve got bad news and worse news,’ James began. ‘The bad news is that due to a balls-up, five hundred and fifty boxes of historic mission control documents were not shifted by the army logistics team, due to a delay in the asbestos removal work. The worse news is that the lift has been deactivated, so we’ve got to take all of them up four flights of stairs. Once they’re up at ground level, the boxes have to be taken across campus on a truck and unloaded in the archival space beneath the mission control building. So let’s hope we’re all feeling energetic!’

‘How long’s it gonna take?’ a girl of about fifteen asked.

James shrugged. ‘Three hours, maybe. John Jones is rounding up a second batch of volunteers to help unload at the other end. And if you’re not here on deferred punishment, we’ll add fifty pounds to your spending accounts as a thank you.’

The volunteers seemed happier after hearing this and there was even a muted cheer.

‘The interior is a demolition zone, so you must wear hard hats and hi-visibility vests. Do not stray away from the designated route.’

A temporary barrier circled the main building, its sole access point guarded by a sergeant from the Royal Engineers Corps. Like everyone else on the demolition team, she’d been living on campus for the past six weeks, but was allowed no outside communication and had not been told where campus actually was. Her uniform would usually be topped with a green beret, but special orange ones had been issued, reminding young agents that she was not to be spoken to under any circumstances.