winked and strode off. Jake watched her for longerthan he should have, then turned his attention back to the smooth-talking American.
‘What’s Olympic Advantage?’ he asked.
Freemore smiled. ‘I knew you’d be interested. It’s a specialist training camp, based in Florida. Starts in a month’s time. We get the best young amateur athletes from around the world, bring ‘em to the States, then give ‘em a two-week intensive course in physical education. They train with others in their chosen sport, then cross-train with world-class athletes from other disciplines. The idea is to establish ourselves as the stable of the sporting future. We take control of everything – sleep patterns, diet, training. Kind of a one-stop shop for physical excellence.’
Jake wasn’t sure about Freemore, but the camp sounded interesting. If his parents wouldn’t help him become a professional footballer, maybe this was the next best thing.
‘Let me think about it,’ he said.
‘Sure,’ said Freemore, clicking his tongue. ‘But don’t think too long, kid.’
The sound of the tannoy split the air.
‘Extra security to pitch-side immediately.’
Jake and the players all looked to the far side of the pitch. A crowd of around thirty people were climbing from one of the tunnels over the top of the seats. They made it down tothe advertising hoardings and scrambled over. Even from a hundred metres away, Jake could make out the T-shirts he’d seen in the car park, bearing anti-Granble slogans. A few of the protestors wielded pieces of wood. One swung a crowbar. Another had ripped up a chair and held it above his head. A dozen security guards came streaming out of the players’ tunnel and threw themselves into the onrushing mob, and Jake saw one protestor brutally punched until he keeled over. But it wasn’t enough.
The remainder screamed abuse like a war cry as they charged across the pitch towards the catwalk platform. Towards Abri.
And Jake’s mother.
9
‘B ack to the dressing room
now!’
Ebner shouted.
The players began to file off the field, casting confused looks at each other. Not all went, though. Robbie, Price and Mark Fortune came with Jake. They ran towards the catwalk where his mum and the models were sitting ducks up on the runway.
‘Slow down the protestors,’ Jake shouted. ‘I’ll get the others to safety.’
Granble’s people were standing around looking professionally useless, and Jake even noticed the Granble reps from the church scurrying off down the tunnel.
More security came out to face the charge along with the players, but Jake could see it still wouldn’t be enough. They met in a scrum near the centre circle.
Jake remembered what his mum had said about this group – the lengths to which they were willing to go. He sprinted upto where the wheeled runway jutted out from the tunnel. Abri, Sienna and Monique were already pushing it around sideways on and Jake threw his weight into it too. Together they tipped the structure over. It crashed on to the turf, forming a barrier between the tunnel and the pitch.
‘Climb over,’ shouted Jake.
Monique went first, scrambling up the platform and heaving herself over the top. Then Sienna.
There was a shout behind as two of the protestors came running through the melee in the centre circle.
‘Diamond thieves!’ one shouted. Jake saw that he had some sort of metal piping in his hand, and a wild look in his eyes that said he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. As Jake went forwards to meet him, his mother screamed.
‘Jake, no!’
The man lifted the pipe but Jake rammed into him before he could swing, charging with his shoulder. They went down together, and Jake pressed his forearm into the attacker’s face. He howled. The second one ran on, and Jake scrambled up just in time to see Abri drive a foot into his groin. With a cry of agony, the protestor fell into the upturned flooring of the catwalk, and curled into a ball.
Sienna and Monique pulled
‘What’s Olympic Advantage?’ he asked.
Freemore smiled. ‘I knew you’d be interested. It’s a specialist training camp, based in Florida. Starts in a month’s time. We get the best young amateur athletes from around the world, bring ‘em to the States, then give ‘em a two-week intensive course in physical education. They train with others in their chosen sport, then cross-train with world-class athletes from other disciplines. The idea is to establish ourselves as the stable of the sporting future. We take control of everything – sleep patterns, diet, training. Kind of a one-stop shop for physical excellence.’
Jake wasn’t sure about Freemore, but the camp sounded interesting. If his parents wouldn’t help him become a professional footballer, maybe this was the next best thing.
‘Let me think about it,’ he said.
‘Sure,’ said Freemore, clicking his tongue. ‘But don’t think too long, kid.’
The sound of the tannoy split the air.
‘Extra security to pitch-side immediately.’
Jake and the players all looked to the far side of the pitch. A crowd of around thirty people were climbing from one of the tunnels over the top of the seats. They made it down tothe advertising hoardings and scrambled over. Even from a hundred metres away, Jake could make out the T-shirts he’d seen in the car park, bearing anti-Granble slogans. A few of the protestors wielded pieces of wood. One swung a crowbar. Another had ripped up a chair and held it above his head. A dozen security guards came streaming out of the players’ tunnel and threw themselves into the onrushing mob, and Jake saw one protestor brutally punched until he keeled over. But it wasn’t enough.
The remainder screamed abuse like a war cry as they charged across the pitch towards the catwalk platform. Towards Abri.
And Jake’s mother.
9
‘B ack to the dressing room
now!’
Ebner shouted.
The players began to file off the field, casting confused looks at each other. Not all went, though. Robbie, Price and Mark Fortune came with Jake. They ran towards the catwalk where his mum and the models were sitting ducks up on the runway.
‘Slow down the protestors,’ Jake shouted. ‘I’ll get the others to safety.’
Granble’s people were standing around looking professionally useless, and Jake even noticed the Granble reps from the church scurrying off down the tunnel.
More security came out to face the charge along with the players, but Jake could see it still wouldn’t be enough. They met in a scrum near the centre circle.
Jake remembered what his mum had said about this group – the lengths to which they were willing to go. He sprinted upto where the wheeled runway jutted out from the tunnel. Abri, Sienna and Monique were already pushing it around sideways on and Jake threw his weight into it too. Together they tipped the structure over. It crashed on to the turf, forming a barrier between the tunnel and the pitch.
‘Climb over,’ shouted Jake.
Monique went first, scrambling up the platform and heaving herself over the top. Then Sienna.
There was a shout behind as two of the protestors came running through the melee in the centre circle.
‘Diamond thieves!’ one shouted. Jake saw that he had some sort of metal piping in his hand, and a wild look in his eyes that said he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. As Jake went forwards to meet him, his mother screamed.
‘Jake, no!’
The man lifted the pipe but Jake rammed into him before he could swing, charging with his shoulder. They went down together, and Jake pressed his forearm into the attacker’s face. He howled. The second one ran on, and Jake scrambled up just in time to see Abri drive a foot into his groin. With a cry of agony, the protestor fell into the upturned flooring of the catwalk, and curled into a ball.
Sienna and Monique pulled
Similar Books
