Cherub Black Friday (21 page)

‘I’ll radio the cops,’ James said. ‘They’re nearer than I am.’

But Ripper was closing too fast. The tops of the fences were high, but Andre was approaching two stacked recycling boxes. He jumped on them, grabbed the top of a fence and tried pulling himself up.

It was a struggle and Ripper crashed head first into the boxes, knocking them down and spilling recyclables along the alleyway. Pure terror gave Andre the shot of energy needed to pull his legs up and swing over to the other side.

As Ripper jumped at the fence a couple of times before picking a fight with a plastic ketchup bottle, Andre found himself on a patio covered with broken toys and an abandoned washing machine.

The patio doors were closed but not locked, and he stepped into a lounge with presents stacked around a tree and a woman in a nurse’s uniform holding a coffee mug and a pack of Hobnobs.

‘You thieving little sod!’ she screamed.

Coffee hit the carpet as Andre made a lunge, but the nurse pinned him in the doorway.

‘I’ll have the cops on you.’

She tried bundling Andre on to a sofa as James’ voice sounded in his ear. ‘Where are you, mate? Are you OK?’

Andre managed to grab a porcelain cottage off a shelf and swung around, clonking the nurse over the back of the head. He then stumbled down a short hallway and opened the front door. He was at the front of a housing block, with a set of steps leading down to a main road.

‘James, where are you?’ Andre gasped, looking back and seeing the nurse coming out on to her doorstep, hair messed up and one hand clutching her head.

James blasted his horn. Andre tracked the noise and began racing towards the silver Mercedes rolling up to the kerb at a bus stop fifty metres away.

‘You OK?’ James asked, switching off his com as Andre sank into the seat beside him. He slammed shut the door and clutched his hands to his chest as James pulled off fast enough to make the rear tyres squeal.

‘My god!’ Andre said. ‘That dog was a monster. If it had got me  … ’

James smiled. ‘Always best not to dwell on things that
might
have happened. The cops sound happy and you didn’t get your arse chewed off. That’s not a bad result for a beginner!’

Once Andre was over the shock of being chased by Ripper, he spent most of the ride back to campus exuberantly recounting what he’d been through.

‘That guy, Vince. The cop that grabbed him was huge! He got totally body-slammed. And it was a big backpack. How much do you reckon the drugs were worth?’

‘Hard to say,’ James said. ‘But they’re only street dealers so probably not more than a few thousand quid.’

‘Will they get long prison sentences?’

‘I dunno,’ James said. ‘Joachim probably will, because he’s got previous.’

They were on a dual carriageway with less than five kilometres to go.

‘So there’s definitely no more training?’ Andre asked.

James shook his head. ‘You can pack your bag when we get back to my room. Then we’ll have dinner and you probably shouldn’t sit up too late because we’re heading off to the airport at six in the morning.’

‘I might actually miss you, James,’ Andre said softly. ‘You taught me heaps, but I’ll probably never see you again after tomorrow.’

James smiled. ‘I was worried that you weren’t tough enough, but you’ve done really well.’

They were coming up to a McDonald’s when James’ head got turned by a highly distinctive Dodge Challenger, finished in bright orange with a big number 94 painted on the driver’s door.

‘Quick diversion,’ James said, slowing down hard enough to make the driver behind blast his horn, and then taking the slip road into the restaurant.

‘Are you hungry?’ Andre asked. ‘I thought we were gonna eat on campus.’

‘I’m not here for the food,’ James explained, as he pointed at the Challenger. ‘I happen to know the owner of that orange monstrosity.’

‘Monstrosity!’ Andre gasped. ‘It’s
awesome
. Like the coolest car I’ve ever seen.’

James pulled up, got out and led Andre through automatic doors into the McDonald’s.

‘I need you to shout,’ James said. ‘Say, “Oh my god, someone’s smashing up that orange car.”’

Andre looked wary. ‘Is this another one of your tricks?’

‘It’s a trick, but not on you,’ James said. ‘Just do it before we get spotted.’

‘Someone’s smashing up the orange car!’ Andre shouted.

Quite a few people looked around and James ducked behind the table with the straws and serviettes on as an eighteen-year-old blonde came storming towards the doors.

‘What did they do?’ the girl growled to Andre. ‘I’ll kick their ass!’

Andre was lost for words. As the girl stormed out into the parking lot to check the car, James raced up to the table where the girl had been sitting and started eating her fries.

‘Chips, Andre?’ James asked.

The girl came back into the restaurant, looking angry and embarrassed because quite a few people were staring at her. She wore jeans and Converse All Stars, with an oversized plaid shirt instead of a coat.

‘Is she your girlfriend?’ Andre asked.

‘Sister,’ James explained, giving a little wave as the girl stormed towards him. ‘Hey, Lauren, how’s it going?’

‘You utter bastard!’ Lauren said, slapping James’ hand away from her chips. ‘I’ll get you back for that.’

‘Your car is mental!’ Andre told her.

Lauren smiled. ‘My boyfriend got it for my eighteenth birthday,’ she explained. ‘Six point four litre V8, five hundred horses, good for 175mph. Thirsty on the petrol, but it’s bloody great fun!’

‘To be fair,
I’d
probably have sex with Rat if he got me one of those,’ James said. ‘So where is Mr Millionaire Boyfriend anyway?’

‘He’s gone off for a big Christmas piss-up with his uni football mates. I’ll pick him up at the station by campus tomorrow afternoon and tease him about his terrible hangover.’

‘It’ll be like old times,’ James said. ‘Christmas on campus. But right now I’ve gotta sort this little guy out, so I’ll see you back there later.’

‘Nice to meet you, Lauren,’ Andre said politely. Then, once they were almost back to the Mercedes, ‘Your sister’s fit, James.’

James cracked up laughing. ‘I think you’d be biting off more than you could chew with her, mate.’

It was gone eleven when Ryan tracked Igor down. The Russian had been for a meal in town and rolled into the Kremlin bar with three women from the admin department and a couple of the last remaining pilots.

‘Farewell!’ one of the pilots spat, hardly able to stay upright as he stumbled into the table. ‘We’re all buggered. Buggered!’

‘Here’s to the scrapheap,’ the other one added.

Amy was trying to keep up the pretence that the clan had only suspended operations, but many people weren’t convinced and airlines wouldn’t be queuing up to employ middle-aged pilots who were only certified to fly forty-year-old cargo planes.

As always, Igor was buying the drinks and Ryan caught him as he reached the bar.

‘I got a message from Andre,’ Ryan said. ‘We need to talk.’

Igor smiled. ‘Gimme a second. I’ll cast off these miserable sods and be right with you.’

Igor bought Ryan a Coke and carried a tray of drinks across to his dining companions before returning.

‘Dubai,’ Ryan said. ‘That’s all Andre said, but I’m going to keep pushing. Tamara’s almost out of money and I get the impression they’re getting desperate. Speaking of which.’

Igor smiled and went down his pockets for five thousand som.

‘I want twenty thousand if I find out where they are,’ Ryan said, as he pocketed the money.

Igor grimaced, then smiled. ‘If you find that out, it’s worth twenty thousand,’ he said.

Ryan swigged his Coke as Igor went back to his companions. His grazed leg still hurt and he planned to head upstairs to bed, but that changed when he caught Natalka’s reflection in his glass.

She’d left her room like he’d suggested; showering, grooming and dressing in white pumps and a skirt so short it could have moonlighted as an elastic band. She looked amazing, but walked like she’d had too much to drink and only stayed upright because Vlad’s steroid-pumped arm was holding her up.

Vlad deliberately took stools at the bar close to Ryan. ‘Vodka,’ Vlad said. ‘Double rum and Coke for the lady and a lemonade for the little boy.’

Ryan shook his head with contempt. The barman took the hint and didn’t pour his lemonade.

‘Hello, Ryan,’ Natalka said, slumping over the bar and giving him a limp wave. ‘I’m having fun with Vlad. He’s got really big muscles and he’s not a liar!’

Natalka giggled as Vlad pushed the double rum and Coke at her. ‘A toast,’ Vlad said. ‘To the most beautiful girl on earth.’

Ryan felt like he’d been stabbed as Natalka downed her double, then pulled Vlad in for a snog. When Natalka broke off, she caught Ryan’s eye and gave him an evil little smile.

‘I haven’t been with a proper man for ages,’ Natalka said.

‘Reckon it’s past your bedtime, Ryan,’ Vlad said. Then to the barman, ‘Another double for my girl.’

The barman wasn’t convinced this was in Natalka’s best interests, but Vlad’s diet of steroids made him aggressive as well as strong. He wasn’t a guy you could easily say no to.

Ryan didn’t want to admit defeat and leave, but rage and jealousy chewed him up as Vlad tugged up the back of Natalka’s skirt. Anyone who cared to look got a view of her bum as he scooped her easily off the stool into his lap.

‘Drink up,’ Vlad told Natalka. ‘I’ve got two hundred Dunhills for you in my room.’

Ryan baulked, certain Natalka would get more than two hundred cigarettes if she ended up in his room.

‘Where you going?’ Vlad asked, as Natalka slipped off his lap. ‘You’re my girl.’

‘Piss,’ Natalka said, before setting a wobbly course across the cigarette-scarred carpet.

Vlad turned towards Ryan once she was out of earshot. ‘I’m gonna be banging that tonight. How’s that make you feel?’

Ryan tutted. ‘She’s fourteen. You must be
really
proud of yourself.’

‘God only puts tits and arse like that on the earth for one reason,’ Vlad said, giving a wink. ‘She can have little Vlad babies!’

‘The amount of steroids you do, I’m amazed your balls haven’t shrivelled completely,’ Ryan said.

Ice cubes chinked as Ryan drained his Coke and jumped off his stool in disgust.

‘Sleep tight, baby boy,’ Vlad said.

Ryan shook his head as he crossed the bar and headed for the stairs. Part of him wanted to go to bed and try to forget everything, but he loved Natalka and felt responsible because he was the one who’d told her to get out of her room.

Although Ryan had done a ton of combat training on CHERUB campus, he’d seen Vlad bench press 240kg and do sets of bicep curls with dumbbells that he couldn’t even lift off the rack. If Ryan was going to take Vlad on, he had to knock him out fast. Steroids make you super-aggressive and a guy that strong can cave your head in with a few punches.

Ryan needed a weapon, but his window of opportunity began to close as Natalka stumbled out of the toilet into Vlad’s arms.

‘I’ll look after you, baby,’ Vlad said, feeding an arm around her back to hold her up.

Natalka had been drunk when she arrived at the bar and Vlad forcing two double rum and Cokes down her neck had left her near comatose.

As Vlad waited for the lift up to his third-floor room with Natalka, Ryan raced upstairs still trying to think up a plan. He was on the last landing when he noticed a sand bucket and fire extinguisher.

The extinguisher was a big chrome job, marked
Expiry 2006
. But while its fire-fighting ability was questionable, Ryan only cared about its weight. By the time he’d picked the extinguisher up and stepped through double doors into the third-floor corridor, the lift was on its way up.

Natalka was coughing as the doors opened and Vlad sounded furious as he shoved Natalka out of the lift.

‘Puked on my best shirt, you dumb slut,’ he snarled.

‘I didn’t mean it,’ Natalka said weakly.

‘Might have to punish you for that.’

Natalka was coughing and groaning as Vlad grabbed a handful of hair and shoved her towards his room. The waft of Natalka’s boozy puke coming from the lift made Ryan heave, but he managed to stifle it.

‘Hey, big man,’ Ryan shouted.

The instant Vlad turned Ryan lunged, belting him in the face with the end of the fire extinguisher. Natalka screamed and slid down the wall as Ryan booted Vlad in the guts, making him crumple forward.

Despite the head shot, Vlad remained conscious and he grabbed Ryan’s ankle and pulled him down. He swung a huge punch, skimming Ryan’s head and smashing his fist through the plasterboard wall. As Vlad tried pulling it out, Ryan scrambled forward and knocked his opponent out with an elbow to the head.

As Ryan rolled off he realised he was spattered with blood, and chunks of puke off Vlad’s shirt. Natalka leaned forward and started retching as Ryan stood up. When she finished she gave Ryan a weird look. Gratitude? Hate? Ryan couldn’t read it and her head went limp before she could speak.

‘Natalka?’ Ryan said, gently pinching her cheek to see if she was conscious.

He tucked hands under Natalka’s armpits and groaned as he lifted her floppy body off the floor and threw her on to his shoulder.

‘Christ you’re a lump,’ Ryan told himself, as he tried not to heave from the smell of her boozy sweat. ‘Let’s put you to bed.’

James was beat after ten days working with Andre, so his sister Lauren offered to help out and take the early drive to the airport in her Challenger.

They met up with Tamara and the MI6 officer who’d led her training at a Pret A Manger in terminal five. Andre was pleased to see his mum, but then got sad when it was time to go. He sneaked off to a gift shop to buy James a fancy box of mints, then welled up as he hugged James before passing through the security barriers for his flight to Dubai.

‘Sweet kid,’ Lauren said, once Andre, Tamara and their MI6 escort had disappeared. ‘But I never felt like buying any of my training instructors presents. You must be too soft.’