Free The Edge by Nick Hale Page B

‘Harmless.’
    ‘You should tell Krantz.’
    ‘Please, Jake. Stay out of it.’ Veronika’s phone rang and she checked the screen with a frown. ‘I gotta go. Catch you later.’
    Jake watched her jog away, speaking into the phone.While she was inside the complex, he doubted Popov could do much harm. So the Russian was a fan of tennis as well as football! But Jake knew he was a fan of money and power most of all.
    Veronika turned and waved when she was a hundred metres away, still with the phone to her ear. Jake couldn’t shake his suspicion that Veronika had something to hide.
    He headed to his room, trying to fit the pieces together. Was it money that had got Otto and Coach Garcia killed, or had Phillips taken offence to Garcia hassling Dr Chow?
    As he approached his door, he heard what sounded like someone shouting inside then a crash. He quickened his steps.
    In the room, Tan was standing over his bed, angrily shoving clothes into his suitcase.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Jake asked.
    Tan jumped over the bed, eyes ablaze, and shoved Jake hard in the chest. ‘You could not keep mouth shut! That’s what!’
    ‘Hey, calm down,’ said Jake, raising his hands. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    ‘Liar!’ Tan shouted. ‘I have visitor an hour before. Dr Chow.
    She tell me she has no choice. End of programme for me.’
    ‘Wh-why?’
    ‘Why you think?’ spat Tan, going to the drawer beside his bed and pulling out a packet of pills. He threw them at Jake, and they hit the wall beside his head. ‘
Someone
tell her about my knee.’
    Jake had never seen Tan so angry. He’d seemed like the most easy-going guy at camp. Had that just been an act?
    ‘I didn’t say anything to anyone,’ Jake protested.
    Tan lunged at him again, this time getting his hand on Jake’s throat and pushing him up against the door. ‘You not tell truth!’ he shouted.
    Jake was a good six inches taller than Tan, and he guessed about twelve kilos heavier, but Tan was damn strong. Jake started to gasp. ‘Get off me!’ he croaked, but Tan only pressed harder.
    Jake had no choice. He delivered a low rabbit-punch to Tan’s gut. The decathlete doubled over with an
oomph.
    ‘What the hell?’ Jake sputtered, creating distance between himself and Tan.
    Tan stalked back to the bed. He drew the zip round his case, not looking at Jake. Then he yanked it off the bed and made for the door.
    Jake stepped aside. ‘Tan, wait . . .’
    Tan turned on him, and shoved him viciously back into the wall.
    ‘I not forget this, Jake Bastin,’ he said.
    Jake heard his footsteps disappear down the corridor, and the front door slam.

11
    T he next morning Jake was still shell-shocked by Tan’s departure. He grabbed an energy bar and a few bananas from the canteen for breakfast, but decided not to hang around. Maybe he was being paranoid, but everyone – not just Oz and his goons – seemed to be staring at him and whispering.
    I’m sick of all this
, Jake thought.
All I want to do is play football. At least I’m good at that.
Jake was beginning to think that Olympic Advantage was all about money. And Tan’s departure had only darkened the dark clouds hanging over the camp.
    Jake decided to head over to the football pitch. Maybe a kick-about before practice would raise his spirits. As he passed the dorm block, he saw that his bedroom curtains were closed.
Weird
, he thought.
I’m sure I left them open.
    Had Tan come back? Jake checked his watch, and sawhe was going to be late, but something told him he’d better check it out. He jogged back to the dorm.
    As Jake slipped in his key card and opened the door, he found the room cast in semi-darkness. Almost at the same time a sweet smell hit him. He flicked on the light.
    ‘What the . . .?’
    Tossed over his bed were a dozen bottles of Olympic Edge, all empty. The contents were soaking through the bedsheets and pooling in technicolour puddles on the floor. Someone had thrown all his clothes