The Edge by Nick Hale

of the team.
    A hand caught his shoulder.
    ‘Hold it right there, mister,’ said his dad.
    Jake shrugged the hand off. A couple of the other players had turned to stare.
    ‘What’s wrong with you?’ said his dad under his breath. ‘You’re playing like this doesn’t matter.’
    ‘Does it?’ said Jake. ‘Dad, three people have died, in case you haven’t noticed. Popov’s hanging around, but you seem more interested in pulling me up for off-side.’
    ‘Not Popov again,’ his dad said, rolling his eyes.
    Jake started to walk away, but his dad jogged up alongside him. They reached the edge of the gym block. Jake glared at the couple of players who’d stuck around to watch and they disappeared inside.
    ‘OK,’ said his dad. ‘It’s true that Popov’s an investor in the camp, but this time you’re barking up the wrong tree, Jake. Popov just happens to own a controlling stake in a major sponsor called Ares Sports.’
    Jake took a moment to process what his dad was telling him. If Popov ran Ares, then he had a hold over Krantz. The pieces of this jigsaw puzzle had just been thrown in the air.
    ‘And I suppose you being here is just a coincidence,’ Jake said. ‘You must think I’m really thick, Dad.’
    His dad took a deep breath and cast a quick glance left and right. ‘OK, I’ll be straight with you. My superiors have got me here in an observation role, but nothing more. With so many up-and-coming athletes in the same place, there’s a lot of international scrutiny.’
    ‘So I’m just your cover,’ Jake blurted. ‘I knew it.’
    His dad sighed. ‘No, you’re my son and, for the last time, I had nothing to do with you being invited. My bosses told me to come out here, and they aren’t the kind of people you say no to. But that was after you were approached in Milan.’
    Jake thought about what Veronika had said about Krantz, and how much pressure he was under from Ares Sports. He thought about Phillips and his dodgy offers, the kiss with Dr Chow, and Garcia showing up dead after an argument. If anyone had been keeping things to himself, it was Jake. Perhaps it was time to get the pros on board.
    ‘You’re wrong,’ he told his dad. ‘There is something going on.’
    ‘Go on,’ his dad said. ‘Tell me your theory.’
    He told his dad everything, from his first day at the camp to seeing Popov at the pool the day before. In going over all the details again, he realised he still didn’t really know what was going on, other than money was involved, and lots of it. His dad kept a calm face, but when Jake got to the part about getting into Phillips’s car and driving out of town he shook his head.
    ‘Christ, imagine what you could have been walking into,’ he said. ‘You should have come to me.’
    ‘I didn’t want to worry you unless it was something important,’ Jake said.
    ‘This is my fault. Your mum was right. I shouldn’t have let you come. If I’d known about Popov –’
    ‘Well, I’m here now,’ Jake said. ‘What do we do next?’
    ‘We do nothing,’ his dad said. ‘I’m sorry, Jake, but I can’t let you stay at the camp.’
    ‘What?’ Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After everything they’d been through together in the last few months. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. I
trusted
you!’
    ‘This isn’t about trust,’ his dad said. ‘It’s about keeping you safe.’
    Jake spun round, and saw a bottle of Olympic Edge upright on the turf. What a joke! He wished he’d never laid eyes on the disgusting stuff. It was a symbol of everything that was wrong with this money-driven world of sports, the pointless merchandising, the corruption . . .
    Swinging his boot, Jake blasted the bottle against a wall. It exploded in a blue shower.
    ‘There’s no need to lose your temper,’ his dad said.
    But Jake was staring at the dripping wall, and the bottle emptying out the last of its contents on the grass. Maybe it was his dad mentioning his temper, but the image