As he gazed up in awe at all the planes hanging, James noticed a large commotion coming from a corner of the hangar. A tall, burly security guard wearing sunglasses manned the queue and his counterpart, a plump, short woman wearing a crisp, pinstriped tie, accompanied by high-heels and over-done make-up. Steps led up to a green pod which was suspended by springs inside a protective case. It was like one of those virtual reality rides in an arcade, just much, much, much taller and bigger. Suddenly, James realised what it was: the Spitfire pilot simulator. Butterflies rising in his stomach, James nudged Jack whose eyes widened as if in a cartoon. Mrs Grink was occupied talking to the security guard.

"Here's our chance," said James noticing the opportunity.

Nervous, Jake whispered,"Er, I don't think we should. What if we get caught: we could be expelled, or worse."

"Number one, we won't get caught, number two what's worse than being expelled within reason?"

"True, also true. You know what?

"What?"

"I'll distract him you do the rest."

Before Jake had replied, James took one last wistful look at the machine and to his amazement he saw Jake talking to the security guard. This was his chance and he would take it with ease.

Sprinting, but not drawing any attention to himself, James ran for the pod. Although Jake was doing a kind deed, he didn't do it very well.

"Oi, you come back 'ere!" yelled the guard with a thick cockney accent. But James was in his own zone now, nothing could stop him.

"The machine, it ain't finished!"

James ran and leaped. He was inside! But something was terribly wrong...