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down.
    “I’ll deal with them,” she said softly. “Her parents and her brothers. Don’t worry. But wait a minute, if we’re going to control Jimmy, we have to decide what we’re going to make him do…”
    Stanton smiled, relaxed once more and leaned forward to conspire closer.
    “Actually, I have designed some rough images ready for transmission. I thought this would be the perfect way to implement the Reflex Plan.”
    Miss Bennett seemed to freeze. This was the first time Mitchell had seen her remotely close to being dumbfounded, but he had no idea what this ‘Reflex Plan’ was. Gradually, Miss Bennett’s expression melted into one of utter glee.
    “Well, that would mean I could assign this young gentleman another mission.” She was almost talking to herself, but Mitchell knew she meant him. Then she leapt up and her words reverberated around the bunker. “Well, what are you waiting for? We can improve the images as we go along. For now – start transmitting the signal.”
    “Miss Bennett,” Stanton smirked, “we already are.”
    Jimmy knew not to look the checkout girl in the eye. But his new appearance made him seem older than nearlytwelve, and he could think of a much more natural way for a teenage boy to act. When he took his change he lifted his head and smiled.
    “Thanks, love,” he grunted. Then he winked and swaggered away.
    His hair was bleached blond now, and spiked. It wasn’t inconspicuous, but it was certainly different to the pictures of him on the news. His new look, combined with his confident demeanour, meant there was no way that checkout girl would connect him to the boy everyone was after.
    Jimmy moved briskly down the street. Since Zafi had left them, they had spent three days in hiding at the Bed and Breakfast place. Too long , Jimmy thought. Despite Zafi telling them to move on straight away, they had stayed put, waiting for Christopher Viggo. But now, even in this short walk back from the corner shop, Jimmy saw threats on every side. Every shadow twitched; every sound was a cocked rifle; every passer-by was an NJ7 agent about to pounce.
    Jimmy pulled his hoodie over his head and quickened his stride. His heart picked up its pace as well. There was something wrong. It was in the rhythm of his steps – they had an echo. Somebody was following him. He stopped dead. One step later, so did whoever was following. Jimmy pretended to be looking in a shop window. He studied the reflection, comparing every shadow to what he could remember of the streetbehind him. What had changed? He could feel his gut churning, but was it his programming preparing for a strike, or his fear?
    A breeze sent a chill through his body. He couldn’t stay standing in the street like that. It was too exposed. Should he run? I shouldn’t have come out at all , he thought. Even though it was starting to get dark, he felt far too visible. He knew the others were just as vulnerable to an ambush by NJ7. Any of them could be recognised, but Jimmy was the only one equipped to deal with the danger, except for his mother. She had once been a fully trained NJ7 operative, but she’d already been out for a pile of second-hand clothes, the bleach for Jimmy’s hair and basic food supplies. It was too risky for the same person to go out again and they’d needed to replenish their stock of fresh groceries.
    Jimmy’s eyes flicked from side to side, checking for even the slightest hint at the presence of the Green Stripe. Am I imagining things? he wondered. Noises, shadows, suspicions – was this the only evidence he had that he was being followed? The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Get back , he ordered himself. Quickly . His instincts were screaming it.
    When he turned to carry on walking, he was sure he caught a glimpse of a figure crouching behind one of the cars. Attack me , he urged inside his head. Please, attack . At least if they did, Jimmy would know that hewasn’t going mad and then maybe this whole