Joshua Doder - Grk Undercover: Two Novels: Grk Takes Revenge; Grk Down Under

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Grk Adventures: Two Novels

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Grk Takes Revenge copyright 2009 by Josh Lacey writing as Joshua Doder
Grk Down Under copyright 2010 by Josh Lacey writing as Joshua Doder

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. This work is comprised of two works originally published separately in paperback in Great Britain as Grk Takes Revenge and Grk Down Under by Andersen Press Limited, London, in 2009 and 2010, respectively.

Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

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eISBN: 978-0-307-98221-6

v3.1

Max showed his ticket and his passport, then took his seat on the train. There was a woman sitting opposite him. She smiled and he smiled back, but they didnt exchange a single word.

Tomorrow, he thought, she will have a story to tell.

Tomorrow, she will see my face on the news.

I sat opposite him on the train, she will be able to say to her friends, enjoying their astonishment. He looked so quiet and normal. I never imagined he would do anything like that.

Today, she didnt know who Max was or what he was planning to do, so she took no notice of him. She just read her newspaper, then did some work on her computer, hardly even glancing at the boy opposite her.

Max didnt care. He didnt want to talk to her. He was happy to spend the journey staring out of the window and thinking his own thoughts. He had a lot to think about.

The train sped through southern England, plunged into the tunnel and emerged in northern France. The sun was shining. The sky was clear and blue. Max watched the countryside flash past and remembered the promise that he had made.

He had been waiting for a long time. And now his chance had come. He was going to confront the man who killed his parents. He was going to look into his eyes. And then

The journey was short. The train soon arrived in Paris.

As Max walked down the platform, he thought he might be stopped or questioned by the French police, but no one even asked to see his passport. No one wanted to know what he was doing. No one seemed to care.

He walked out of the station.

He didnt know exactly where he was going, but he knew what he was looking for. He would walk until he found it.

Tim loved his bed.

He had traveled round the world. He had walked on white beaches and trekked through thick jungles. He had swum through raging waterfalls and sailed round tropical islands. He had seen the Taj Mahal and the Sugar Loaf Mountain and the Empire State Building. But he wouldnt have swapped any of them for his own bed.

His duvet was warm and cozy. His room was quiet and comfortable. He could stretch out his arm and pick up a book, a comic, a game, a computer or a phone. What more could he possibly want?

In the school holidays, Tim often stayed in bed till lunchtime.

If he felt hungry, he went downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal or some toast, but he always came back upstairs again and ate his breakfast in bed. Then he read a book or played a game or just dozed.

This morning was different.

This morning, Tim was sleeping quietly, dreaming of this or that, when a hand pushed his shoulder and a voice demanded, Wake up!

Dont want to.

Come on! Wake up! You have to! Its important.

Sleep is important, said Tim. Good night.

He rolled over and snuggled deeper in his duvet.

He couldnt imagine why anyone would want to wake him up. It was the school holidays. He had nothing to do and nowhere to go. He just wanted to carry on dreaming.

But he wasnt allowed to.

He had barely settled his head on his pillow when the hand returned. And this time the hand didnt simply push his shoulder. No, it did something much, much worse. Without a word of warning, the hand grabbed Tims duvet and pulled it off, exposing his head, neck and shoulders to the cold air.

Tim groaned. What are you doing?

I have to talk to you, said the voice. Please, Tim. It really is important! Youve got to wake up! I need your help!

Tim groaned again. He knew who owned that voice. And he also knew that she wasnt the type of person who would take pity on a poor boy and let him stay in bed till lunchtime. He sat up, rubbing sleep dust from his eyes, and stared angrily at Natascha. What do you want?

Have you seen Max?

Not since last night, said Tim. He leaned forward and peered at the other bed on the opposite side of the room. It was empty. He said, Have you looked in the loo?

Hes not there, said Natascha.

Then hes probably downstairs having breakfast.

He isnt. Hes gone.

Where?

I dont know, said Natascha. She sounded panicky and frightened. She reached into the pocket of her bathrobe and pulled out a sheet of paper covered with writing. I found this on my pillow. Max must have tiptoed into my room and left it there in the middle of the night.

Tim glanced at the paper. What does it say?

Read it.

I cant.

Why not?

Its in Stanislavian.

Oh, Im sorry, said Natascha, shaking her head. Im so worried, I cant think straight. Move up and let me sit down. Ill read it to you.

Tim shifted sideways, making room on the edge of the bed for Natascha. She sat cross-legged and read the letter aloud, translating from Stanislavian into English as she went along.

This is what the letter said:

Dearest Natascha,

I would like to write a long letter to you, but I dont have time. So I will just tell you the facts. I have gone to kill Colonel Zinfandel.

I have been waiting a long time to take revenge on him. Now I have the chance to do it. I know where he is and I know what I have to do. So I have gone to find him.

I know you will want to come after me.

Dont.

Ill be safer without you. And youll be safer at home.

Even if you wanted to find me, you wont be able to. So please dont even try. By the time you read this, I will be a long way away.

Dont be sad, Natascha. I am doing exactly what I want. If Im killed, then you can be sure Ill die with a smile on my face.

Goodbye, my dear sister. Remember me as you remember our mother and our father.

Say goodbye to Tim from me. And thank his parents. They have been very kind to us.

With all my love,

Your brother,

Max

Natascha put down the letter and looked at Tim. You see?