Cherub Black Friday (18 page)

‘Four planes left for the Congo this morning,’ Josef mumbled.

Half the three-hundred-strong crowd couldn’t hear and there was an outbreak of shushing and bodies moving closer.

‘I have received information that these planes were forced to land by fighters operating for the United States Air Force.’

Gasps erupted. Ryan looked at Natalka but she’d yet to grasp what this meant.

‘The heat is on us,’ Josef said dramatically, as he used a monogrammed handkerchief to wipe his brow. ‘There will be a break, to take the pressure off.’

Josef left this hanging and looked down at Amy as if he’d forgotten his lines. Amy realised that feeding Josef lines would make it clear to everyone that he was a puppet. Taking over herself wasn’t ideal either, but she had no choice.

‘The crews have been arrested. They will be taken back to the United States,’ Amy said.

Natalka finally understood and shrieked, ‘No!’

There were mutterings in the crowd, and broad agreement on the cause of their problems: renting a plane to IDoJ had been stupid. Irena had made a mistake kicking Leonid out of the Kremlin and Josef should have stuck to pottering around changing light bulbs and fixing leaky pipes.

Amy nudged Josef, forcing him to speak again. ‘All crews are to go home,’ Josef said quietly. ‘No operation until this business dies down. All aircrew collect three months’ pay. Go to your families. Leave your details and you’ll be contacted when this is over.’

The magnitude of this silenced the crowd. Ryan had pictured Natalka red-faced and tearful, but she was ghost-white, with shoulders trembling.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Ryan said, reaching out to put an arm around her back.

But Natalka shoved him away and bolted for the stairs. As the rest of the crowd broke silence and started asking questions about when they’d get their pay and how they’d be able to get home, Ryan chased Natalka upstairs.

‘Natalka,’ Ryan shouted. ‘Don’t run away. I’m here for you. I love you.’

‘You’re a rotten horny bastard like every other male on this planet,’ Natalka screamed as she slammed the door of her room in Ryan’s face. ‘Leave me alone. I hate you.’

Ryan stood outside the door as Natalka began sobbing.

‘Please,’ Ryan said gently. ‘You can’t be on your own now. Maybe it’ll work out OK for your mum.’

There was a huge crash as Natalka threw something heavy against the door.

It was 4 p.m. in the UK. Andre Aramov had arrived on CHERUB campus ninety minutes earlier and came out of an examination room in the medical building in his underpants.

‘How’d it go?’ James asked, speaking Russian that was rusty from lack of practice.

‘OK,’ Andre said weakly, as he stepped up to an office chair with his clothes folded over the back and began pulling a vest over his head.

CHERUB was a highly selective organisation. The kids it picked for training were outgoing and had physical and mental courage. Andre was a very different creature, staring at the floor like he was scared of his own shadow.

‘Can I call my mum?’ he asked.

James smiled. ‘You left her at the airport less than four hours ago, and you spoke to her in the car.’

‘I wondered if she’d arrived at her training place yet.’

James had to make a choice. He could be gentle and try coaxing Andre out of his shell, or he could act tough and hope that Andre manned up. Trouble was, it was only a ten-day training programme and there’d be no second shot if Andre had a meltdown.

‘So have you got any special talents?’ James asked. ‘And not stuff like touching the tip of your nose with your tongue, I mean stuff that might be useful when you’re undercover.’

To make his point, James poked his tongue out and curled it up to the tip of his nose. Andre smiled awkwardly as he sat on the chair to pull his socks back on.

‘I can pick pockets,’ Andre said, after a moment’s silence. ‘My dad taught me when he wanted me to steal something off my Uncle Josef.’

‘Could be useful,’ James said, as he tossed Andre a plain orange T-shirt that was too big for him. ‘You’ll need to wear this orange shirt at all times. You’re not allowed to talk to any kids you see, and they’re not allowed to talk to you.’

‘This place is for training kids?’ Andre asked.

‘Pretty much.’

‘For what?’

‘Same kind of thing you’re doing,’ James lied.

‘And the different colour shirts,’ Andre said, as he pulled the orange shirt over his vest. ‘The little kids wear red. A lot of the biggest kids wear black T-shirts. But it can’t
just
be an age thing because I’ve seen some younger kids in black, and some older kids wearing grey.’

James smiled. He could work on Andre’s timidity, but you can’t improve a person’s basic intelligence and the kid clearly had a decent brain.

As James considered this, a nurse pushed a trolley into the room. Its top shelf bore two sets of sterile tweezers on a stainless-steel tray, glass mixing beakers, distilled water, stirrers, and some sachets of powder.

‘Are you two ready to have your com moulds taken?’ the nurse asked.

Andre looked baffled, so James explained. ‘We use a miniature communication system buried inside your ear canal. It’s got a range of a couple of kilometres. We’ll use it during your training, and possibly during the hunt for your dad too.’

The nurse began a mixing process, tapping two powder sachets into one of the beakers. When she added a few drops of water, the compounds began to hiss and bubble.

‘That’s going in my ear?’ Andre asked James. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘I’ve never had it done,’ James admitted, as he looked at the nurse warily.

‘Why not?’ Andre asked.

‘I’ve been away for a few years,’ James explained. ‘Deep ear com is a new system. We had to make do with lapel microphones and earpieces in my day.’

The nurse kept stirring the mixture until it stopped bubbling and formed a gloopy grey paste.

‘I’ve not killed anyone doing this yet,’ the nurse said. ‘I need you both to place an elbow on the desk, then tilt your head so that it’s resting nice and steady on your shoulder. Once I tip the gloop in, you need to just rock your heads
very
gently to make sure it goes all the way down. OK?’

James looked at Andre. ‘Did you get that?’

‘My English is as good as your Russian,’ Andre said.

‘James first,’ the nurse said, moving forward as James tilted his head.

As the fizzing was right next to James’ eardrum, the sound was deafening, and he hadn’t realised the chemical reaction between the two powders had made them warm.

Andre faced James as they sat next to each other with heads tilted. Andre pushed his tongue out and tried touching his nose. James smiled, but the nurse didn’t like it.

‘It sets in thirty seconds,’ she said. ‘But if you muck about I’ll have to do it again.’

‘I think the nurse has a nice bottom,’ James said, speaking in Russian.

The nurse didn’t understand, but Andre’s smirk meant she knew he’d said something cheeky. She looked grumpy as she tweezered out the set ear moulds and dropped them into sample jars.

‘Free to go,’ the nurse said. ‘The com units should be back from the laboratory within twenty-four hours. Make an appointment for Wednesday. I’ll fit them and show you how to use the system and keep everything sterile.’

Amy found Ryan as he headed back downstairs.

‘Natalka’s a mess,’ Ryan said solemnly. ‘She won’t let me near her.’

‘She’s in shock, she’ll calm down.’

‘It’s more complex than that,’ Ryan said. ‘That dick Vlad told Natalka that I was at the brothel by the bus station.’

Amy looked confused. ‘You went to a brothel?’

‘The place where Igor met Squashed-Nose.’

‘Oh
shit
,’ Amy said, glancing around because she wasn’t supposed to be seen with Ryan. ‘I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to help Dimitra. But right now, you need to get down to the bar and talk to Igor. After what’s happened tonight, he’ll be sure to head off to the bazaar and pass a message on first thing tomorrow. I want to make sure Leonid finds out about Andre and Tamara too.’

‘That’s where I was heading,’ Ryan said. ‘What’s the atmosphere like down there?’

‘Some people’s friends have been busted and they’re drowning their sorrows. The rest think they’ve got three months’ paid holiday and they’re getting drunk celebrating.’

Ryan saw what Amy meant when he got down to the lobby. People had come down for the meeting, stayed to gossip and started drinking. On a good night there were thirty people in the bar, but now every one of a hundred seats had a bum on it, with more propped on tables and armrests, and a few even spilling out into the adjoining lobby.

Igor was at the heart of it all, holding court at a large oval table covered in empty glasses and vodka bottles. Ryan had to fight his way around the back of the table before crouching and whispering in Igor’s ear.

‘You asked me to tell you if I heard something. Can I speak somewhere quiet?’

Igor looked irritated. ‘Now?’ he asked.

‘It’s about Andre and Tamara.’

Igor raised one curious eyebrow, stubbed out a cigarette and drained his glass in two gulps before pushing his chair back.

‘Excuse me, I have a little business to conduct.’

‘You want Igor to give you another lift to the bus station, eh, Ryan?’ Vlad shouted.

Ryan gave Vlad the finger as Igor took him out of the bar and into a grimy spot under the back stairs.

‘Five thousand som for good information,’ Ryan said. ‘Is that still our deal?’

‘For
good
information, yes.’

‘Tamara and Andre have left the Kremlin.’

Igor looked shocked. ‘Pardon me?’

‘I got a call,’ Ryan explained. ‘Andre was really scared. His mum was in tears. Apparently Josef went for her.’

Igor seemed unsure. ‘Went for her how? With a knife?’

‘She was crying her eyes out,’ Ryan explained. ‘I think maybe Josef tried to rape her. Tamara never said, but she was bawling and shit. So she had a car booked from the top of the valley, but they couldn’t carry all their suitcases and I agreed to help.’

‘Did they say where they were going?’

‘It seemed like a big secret,’ Ryan said. ‘But Andre let slip that they had plane tickets.’

Igor glanced at his watch. ‘What time was this? What time is their flight?’

‘I expect they’re long gone,’ Ryan said.

‘But you have to check in and wait, and do security,’ Igor said anxiously. ‘When did they get in the car?’

‘Maybe five fifteen, this morning,’ Ryan said.

Igor was anxiously tugging his fringe and Ryan knew why: Leonid Aramov would go mental when he found out that his beloved ex-wife had left the Kremlin without his inside man knowing anything about it.

‘Why are you telling me this
now
?’ Igor shouted.

‘When I got back it was school time.’

‘School,’ Igor spat.

Ryan was in a shitty mood, but the throbbing veins in Igor’s neck cheered him a little.

‘So do I get my five thousand som now?’ Ryan asked.

‘Five thousand if you tell me
straight away
,’ Igor said, practically foaming at the mouth. ‘You waited sixteen hours, and have no idea where they’ve gone.’

‘I didn’t know it was that important to you,’ Ryan said.

‘Here’s a thousand,’ Igor said, taking a roll of money out of his pocket and peeling off a pair of five-hundred-som notes.

Ryan stared at the money with contempt. ‘You didn’t say anything about timing. I’ve betrayed my friend Andre’s trust for less than it takes to buy a week’s groceries.’

‘I said the information has to be useful,’ Igor said. ‘And information is less useful if it’s late, dumbass. You’re lucky I’m giving you anything at all.’

‘Andre’s on my Facebook,’ Ryan said. ‘He’s not the smartest kid in the world so I might be able to find out where he’s flown to.’

‘For that you get five thousand.’

Ryan sneered. ‘I’d rather not work for people who don’t keep their promises.’

Igor shook his head as he peeled off the missing four thousand and pressed it into Ryan’s palm. ‘You’re pushing your luck,’ he said, wagging a finger. ‘You’re just a kid. Daddy’s dead. You’ve got no source of income and no friends around here.’

Although Andre would be training on campus for the next ten days, James had been ordered to keep him apart from other kids. So Andre wound up sleeping on the fold-out sofa in James’ quarters.

When James woke on Tuesday morning, he opened one eye and saw Andre standing by his landline phone, trying to read the instructions for dialling out, with the oversized orange shirt down to his knees.

‘Not been away from your mum before?’ James asked, making Andre jump. ‘Don’t they have school trips and stuff in Kyrgyzstan?’

Andre shrugged. ‘Half the kids at my school in Bishkek couldn’t even afford lunch. My dad took me to Tokyo Disneyland once, but he kept losing his temper and ruined it.’

James looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 7 a.m. ‘We’d better shift. I’ve got the firing range booked for seven forty-five. If you dial 8, you’ll get the kitchen. Tell ’em we’re on seclusion status and they’ll send up whatever we want.’

‘What about my mum?’

‘You can call her tonight,’ James said. ‘Once a day is enough and you’ll be able to tell her about your day.’

‘OK,’ Andre said, picking up the receiver, but stalling before dialling 8. ‘I don’t know what they have.’

James shrugged. ‘Cooked breakfast, cereal, juice, tea, coffee. I’m in the mood to be a pig, so order me some chocolate chip pancakes, with a side of mango slices. Black coffee and some freshly squeezed orange juice.’

‘Chocolate pancakes,’ Andre said, smiling. ‘I’ve never had pancakes for breakfast.’

‘Give ’em a go then,’ James said, as he rolled out of bed scratching under his armpit. ‘And I’ll have to get you a couple of smaller T-shirts. That thing looks like a dress.’

James went for a quick shave and shower and was surprised when he came out to find a sixteen-year-old navy shirt wheeling in two stacks of chocolate pancakes.