Made of Fire

4. Happy Birthday

4

Happy Birthday

SOMEWHERE OVER KAZAKHSTAN

The first leg of our ride home wasn’t exactly luxurious; the back of a small, Cessna drug runner plane, as opposed to a private jet. We had to stick to a budget, Philippe said. Eke as much mileage out of the Arina Blue p*****t as we could.

Philippe brought a large, grey holdall from beneath his seat and dug around inside it. “I almost forgot,” he said, pulling out a small gift, badly wrapped in black bin bag and silver electrical tape.

Philippe handed it over to me across the cabin. I leaned over and took it off him. I’d purposely kept it quiet about my seventeenth. I felt old enough as it was. And it felt weird celebrating it without Becki and Auntie Claire.

“How did you know?” I asked Philippe.

“I remembered from reading your Red Flag Protocol file, he said perkily. “I know technically it was yesterday, but-“

“It’s only Friday. Still my birthday weekend,” I said, shaking the gift. “What is it?’

“Open it up and see.”

I tore at the bag apart, fastened tight together by too much tape. It was a hard blue box with a digital watch inside.

Worst. Gift. Ever.

“I love it!” I said, slipping the old one from my wrist. “You can never have too many mission watches.”

“Exactly,” Philippe said, as I fastened on the new one.

Philippe waited, as if there was more to it. “Go on then.”

“Go on, what?”

“Push the button,” he said, pointing to the righthand side of the watch.

I pushed a small, red button and held it for a couple of seconds. A tiny, metal spike shot out of a small hole in the watch face.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch it,” Philippe said. “It’s phenol-tipped. Pierce the skin of an attacker. Preferably the vein.”

“Celine helped me pick it out,” he said. “You sure you like it?”

I smiled through my teeth. “You know what they say … poison’s a girl’s best friend.”

“It’s a one-shot deal, though,” Philippe said, shoving his holdall back under the seat. “So only use it when you absolutely have to.”

“Any cake to go with the gift?” I asked, pushing the red button to retract the spike.

Philippe dug inside his rucksack. “I’ve got a protein bar,” he said. “Chocolate vanilla.”

“I’ll take it,” I said, grabbing the warm, squashed bar and tearing off the end of the wrapper. “So are you gonna sing me happy birthday, or what?”

As Philippe fixed me with one of his b***h, please stares, my iPad on the seat next to me bleeped into life. A video call from Giles.

I know technically you were supposed to have your devices on airplane mode, but Black Market Air weren’t exactly picky when it came to stuff like that.

“Hey,” I said to Giles, moving over to the seat next to Philippe and propping the iPad up on my lap.

“Hey,” Giles said, sat next to Zak, his new BFF and the latest addition to our fledgling remote tech team.

“Whassssuuuuuup,” Zak said, in his lay-about way; leaning back in his chair in a white punk t-shirt; his hair a long, mousy mess and his face thin, with a smattering of late teenage stubble.

Philippe shook his head at the sight of them, raspberry ice pops in hands, with the tongues to match.

“So the mission went well, yeah?” Zak asked, in a home counties accent.

“No, it did not go well,” said Philippe.

“Hey Lorna, I got you a present,” Giles said.

“You knew too? What is it?” I asked.

“It’s a secret. I’ll show you when you get back.”

“Oo-ooh,” Zak said, laughing and winking down the webcam at me. “Yeah, he’s got a present alright.”

Giles blushed and hit Zak hard on the head with a giant inflatable hammer. I blushed too, but thankfully no one noticed.

For one, Philippe was too busy muttering to himself.. “I used to work with trained professionals. Now with these children.”

Giles regained his composure, batting a giggling Zak away from the desk. “Anyway, the reason I called is, we got a reply from Quarter Horse. He wants to meet in the next twenty-four hours.”

“Can’t it wait?” Philippe asked, looking out of a tiny, frosted window. “We’re only just passing over Russia,”

Giles nodded. “I know, I know. That’s what I told him. But he said something about being the last and only time he’s willing to meet up.”

“Where?” Philippe asked.

“Location Charlie,” Giles said, sucking on his ice pop and looking off-screen as he clicked on a mouse. “I’ll forward you the details.”

“Cool,” I said with a smile. “See you in a few.”

“Later Lorn,” Giles said, ending the call.

Philippe was staring at me.

“What?” I asked, still a little red in the cheeks.

“There’s not … something between you, is there?”

“No!” I said, jumping up and returning to my own seat. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway,” I said.

“Okay, don’t shoot,” Philippe said, holding up his hands and walking towards the front of the cabin.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To see if the pilot can re-route. We need to switch planes.”