The Life Of A Teenage Spy

Oliver Link is a normal teenage guy... But is he?
He is pulled off the streets after a horrid start to life but has now been thrown into the dangerous world of being a teen spy. Can he deal with it ?



Spy book, based on 'cherub' and 'Alex Ryder' :D

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1. The start

The ice cold bench was freezing my bum as I sat down putting my now shabby and over used sleeping bag over my lap for warmth. Suddenly, a dark shadow was cast across me.

 

“Got nowhere to kip for the night son?” A police man was standing over me. I gave a slight shake of my head, he sighed. “You better come with me then” he stuck out a gloved hand; I took it with my own hand. It looked sickly and pale against the back ground of his glove. I walked a couple of paces behind him; he doffed his hat at an old lady. She kindly nodded back but then when eyes reached me she shook her head. The last time I had looked in a mirror the person staring back at me had bags under his eyes, his skin pale and hair a matted blonde. So I wasn't in the best condition.

 

He led me down a steep flight of steps. A wooden door was ahead of us. The policeman gave a brisk hard knock on it. A man, who had dread locks and seemed to be smoking a cigar, opened the door. “Could you go and get Mr Lockerbie please Perry?” The police man’s tone towards the man made him seem like he was two.

 

“Sure thing dude” Perry answered and walked off. I strained my neck to look inside. It seemed dark, pictures of family members hung up everywhere. Every single person had darkish hair and looked very serious. The one detainable note about them was their eyes. Their eyes looked like they had had the sun set put in them! They glowed golden and pinkish. I had not noticed this on Perry, perhaps he was not related?

Just then a man in a dark suit, that was impeccably clean, came to the door. “Found this poor boy on the streets thought you could make use of him?” the way the police man spoke about me made it sound like I was something you could eat. Mr Lockerbie, well that’s who I am assuming he was, gave me a sideways glance.

“Yes I think we may have a place for him” the police man pushed me forwards through the porch and into the dingy house that was ahead. Suddenly I felt myself being pulled down wards. “Don’t worry” Mr Lockerbie said gently “we are just using the transport the get to H.Q” H.Q? My mind ran through what it meant, headquarters, James bond sprung to mind.

Suddenly the lighting improved a mass over desks people and paper now surrounded me. A short man with a bald patch in the middle of his head came over to us.

“Who’s this?” he gave me a questioning look. “That is a good point! How rude I take you away from everything you know and I do not know your name! So child what is it?” Mr Lockerbie was now looking down at me over his glasses.

“Oliver sir” calling Mr Lockerbie sir came as a natural reaction to him, he reminded me of a teacher “Oliver link”. A smile crept across his face. “Well Oliver first thing there is no need to call me sir! For the moment my authority over you does not stretch to that.” The short bald man sighed, he obviously did not approve of me being here. “You must take him to M, and also blindfolding him may be a good idea in case he is not allowed to stay!”  Mr Lockerbie gave an exasperated breath. Without warning the world went black.

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