Cherub Black Friday (22 page)

‘Andre’s smart, but real CHERUB training would break him in about two hours,’ James said. ‘Sweetie?’

James tipped some mints into Lauren’s palm.

‘So when’s the love of your life flying in?’ Lauren asked, as they started strolling back towards her car.

‘Kerry’s staying in the States,’ James said. ‘We’ve not been getting on too well.’

Lauren smiled. ‘Who’d she catch you in bed with this time?’

‘Nobody,’ James said indignantly. ‘And why does everyone think I’m some kind of sex maniac? I’m a normal bloke with normal appetites.’

Lauren tutted. ‘You’re a good-looking bloke. Women flirt and you tend to say yes if you think you can get away with it.’

‘Half the kids on campus seem to think I had sex in the campus fountain.’

Lauren smirked. ‘Cool! That was my rumour.’

‘What?’ James gasped. ‘Why’d you do that?’

‘I was bored,’ Lauren said airily. ‘You know when you’re a bit drunk and you just make some gossip up to keep the conversation going?’

James laughed so hard he had to rub a tear from his eye. ‘I miss having you around.’

‘My uni’s only an hour from campus,’ Lauren said. ‘If you do stay in the UK you’ll see a lot more of me.’

‘That’d be cool.’

‘So are you and Kerry fighting, or is it worse than that?’

James shrugged. ‘Can’t say for sure. We’ve been together so long there’s not the same spark. I don’t know if that’s a problem, or if it’s just what happens to a relationship after a few years.’

‘Surely she’s not spending Christmas on her own?’

‘She hasn’t told me anything, but there’s this guy Mark who she’s been meeting for coffee and stuff,’ James said. ‘I half suspect she’ll be Christmasing with him.’

‘Heavy,’ Lauren said.

‘I threw my breakfast at the wall when I first found out she wasn’t coming for Christmas,’ James said. ‘But the more I’ve thought about it, the more chilled I’ve got. Me and Kerry have grown apart. Zara’s offered me a job on campus and I think I’m gonna take it.’

By this time, they’d gone down an escalator and reached the platform for the monorail out to the short stay parking.

‘And what about you?’ James asked. ‘Rat, uni, other stuff?’

‘First term at uni’s been good. Rat’s happy, though some of the guys he hangs out with are annoying. I miss being a cherub, but who doesn’t?’

Amy had given Ryan the login for the fast Internet connection on the fifth floor and he felt down as he used his iPhone to look at a picture on his Ryan Sharma Facebook page. His best mates, Max and Alfie, had posted a pic of themselves dressed in Scream masks and Santa hats, with Alfie’s yucca plant draped in tinsel between them.

Max, Alfie & Doris wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a splendiferous 2013!

It was funny, but it also made Ryan feel lonely. He’d been scared that Natalka might puke in her sleep and choke, so after wiping her face and putting her to bed he’d found a blanket for himself and spent the night in an armchair watching over her.

The knock at the door was gentle, but Ryan had been to his room to pick up Kazakov’s gun, in case an angry Vlad came to and went on the rampage. He kept it within reach as he opened the door.

‘How’s Natalka?’ Amy whispered.

‘Dead to the world,’ Ryan said, stepping back relieved.

Amy walked into the room and pushed the door shut quietly. ‘Vlad’s dealt with,’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Vlad’s father’s taken him to the hospital in Bishkek to have his head stitched. They were already preparing to leave, so Vlad can come back to the Kremlin to pick up his bags, but that’ll be it.’

‘Thanks,’ Ryan said.

‘Do you know if Vlad’s got any close mates who might cause trouble?’

Ryan shook his head. ‘Vlad’s not popular. He was friendly with Andre’s big brothers, Boris and Alex. But since they got kicked out with their dad, he doesn’t really hang with anyone.’

‘Makes it easier for us if no one cares that Vlad’s gone,’ Amy said, before glancing across at Natalka to make completely sure she was still sleeping. ‘More importantly, we’ve now got information on Leonid. You were right about Squashed-Nose, he is Igor’s brother. He’s got friends at the Russian embassy in Bishkek and he’s been using their secure channels to send messages to Leonid Aramov.’

‘How’d we pick that up?’

Amy smiled. ‘That kind of information is above my pay grade, but the Aramov Clan has long had close friends inside the Russian Government. I’m guessing the CIA can decode Russian diplomatic traffic. The messages are being routed to Mexico.’

Ryan looked perplexed. ‘I thought he’d be in Russia, or maybe United Arab Emirates.’

‘Who didn’t?’ Amy said. ‘But Mexico makes sense, given the current situation there.’

‘How so?’ Ryan asked.

‘Our sting operation meant we got almost all of Leonid’s money, but we didn’t take his knowledge. Leonid knows pilots, corrupt officials, weapons manufacturers. Mexico is embroiled in a vicious turf war between drug gangs battling over smuggling routes into the USA. It’s probably the nastiest and most prolonged drug war there’s ever been anywhere. Now, imagine turning up in the middle of that environment, with expertise in smuggling and contacts who can supply large quantities of weapons.’

Ryan nodded. ‘Leonid’s connections would be
priceless
. And having no money hardly matters because the drug cartels can pay millions to someone who’ll supply what they want.’

‘Leonid Aramov may be a psycho,’ Amy said, ‘but he’s no fool.’

‘So do we know where in Mexico?’

‘TFU headquarters in Dallas is working on some leads for me,’ Amy said. ‘But for now, our best hope remains that Andre and Tamara will lead us to him.’

‘Igor seemed pleased when I spoke to him last night,’ Ryan said.

‘I’ll bet he was,’ Amy said. ‘In one of the decoded transmissions, Leonid threatened to cut Igor’s throat if he didn’t find out what had happened to Tamara.’

‘Andre and Tamara must be airborne by now,’ Ryan noted.

Amy nodded. ‘James Adams called me a while back to say their flight left on time. They’ll arrive in Dubai this evening. Ted Brasker will meet them. He’s sorted out accommodation in a hostel used by migrant workers. Once we’ve confirmed that Andre and Tamara are in place, you can go and tell Igor that you’ve been into the bazaar and chatted to Andre online in a web café. Then you give him the address where they’re staying.’

‘What do you reckon will happen then?’ Ryan asked.

‘The messages we intercepted between Igor and Leonid confirm what Tamara said: Leonid still has extremely strong feelings for his ex-wife. Tamara will say that she ran away because Josef Aramov was pressuring her into having a relationship with him. She’ll say she needs money and a place to stay. With luck, Leonid will reach out to his damsel in distress. As soon as Tamara and Andre get to wherever Leonid’s staying in Mexico, they’ll let us know.’

‘So once I’ve told Igor the address?’

‘Your job will be done,’ Amy said. ‘If anyone notices that you’ve gone, we’ll say you went back to the Ukraine to live with a relative. Flights will be booked up at this time of year, but I might still be able to get you back on campus for Christmas with all your mates.’

Ryan looked longingly towards Natalka. ‘You said I could stay here to the end if I wanted to.’

‘You’ve got it bad for her, haven’t you?’

‘I know I’ve got to go back,’ Ryan said sadly. ‘Natalka doesn’t even like me any more, but when I think about never being able to see her again, I feel like blowing my brains out.’

Amy half smiled, but picked up Kazakov’s gun. ‘You won’t need this now you know Vlad’s gone.’

‘Love sucks,’ Ryan said, smudging a tear from the corner of his eye and staring up at a ceiling stained by water leaking from the floor above.

Amy smiled. ‘I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better, but I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. You’re gonna go back to campus feeling like crap and nobody on earth can do a thing about it.’

Natalka woke with a thudding hangover. She showered before throwing on a fake Armani polo shirt and cut-off jeans. It was early afternoon when she invited herself into Ryan’s room, barefoot and puffing on a king-size cigarette.

‘So  … ’ she said, before blowing a plume of smoke.

Ryan tried not to sound excited, but an involuntary grin gave the game away.

‘Heard of knocking?’ he asked.

Natalka gave a shrug and spoke softly. ‘I opened one eye in the night and you were in my mum’s rocking chair, watching over me.’

Ryan put the book he was reading down and sat up. ‘Choking to death on your own vomit’s not a good way to die.’

‘Can I sit?’

‘Free country,’ Ryan said.

Natalka could have sat at the dining table, but she sat on Ryan’s bed, with her knee almost touching his outstretched foot.

‘Don’t I get an I-told-you-so lecture?’ Natalka asked.

‘I’ve done my share of stupid things,’ Ryan said.

‘Brave boy taking on Vlad,’ Natalka said, blowing smoke Ryan’s way before dropping the last of her cigarette into a glass of water on the bedside table.

It was a perfect Natalka moment: knowing that Ryan hated smoking, but absolutely confident that she could get away with it. To Ryan’s surprise, she then grabbed his foot and rested it on her knee.

‘A lot of guys have ugly feet. Cracked nails, hairy toes. Yours are cute. Like a little boy’s feet.’

To show her point, Natalka raised Ryan’s foot up to her lips and kissed his big toe.

‘Random,’ Ryan said, flattered as he laughed and looked at his feet. ‘Your feet aren’t bad, but they’re not your best bit.’

Ryan inhaled Natalka’s odours of cigarettes and shower gel as she swung a leg up on to the bed and straddled his waist. He felt blissful, looking at cleavage inside the unbuttoned polo, with a little diamond pendant spinning just above the tip of his nose.

‘So what’s my best bit?’ Natalka asked.

Before Ryan could decide between saying
personality
or, more honestly,
tits
, Natalka saved him the dilemma by lowering her head for a passionate kiss. It was always great when they kissed, but this was the best ever because until two minutes earlier he’d thought this would never happen again.

Dubai’s government likes to portray the city-state as an upscale desert paradise of posh shops, beach resorts and high-rise towers. But less than ten per cent of the Emirate’s population are natives. Menial jobs from builder to hotel maid are done by low-waged workers brought in from poorer countries like Iran and Pakistan.

Andre and Tamara’s background story was that they’d fled from the Kremlin with little money, so after a comfortable business class flight from London, the pair found themselves staying in a warren of tiny four-storey apartment blocks. They’d been designed for couples, but rents were high and most were shared by eight to ten workers.

Although the pair had a room with a bare concrete floor to themselves, the previous occupants’ smell lingered in the foul squat toilet and stained mattresses piled in one corner of the living area. TV, telephone and air conditioning were all coin-operated and there was constant background noise. Shouts and moped engines competed with ringing mobiles, bhangra music and La Liga highlights.

Andre stood by a cracked pane of glass, looking down two floors at a line-up of dark-skinned women, dressed in pink maids’ outfits and cooking stew on an open fire in the courtyard.

‘Get away from the glass,’ Tamara said. ‘You’ll attract attention.’

Andre backed off and saw that his mother was going through the stack of mattresses. ‘There’s a couple that are not so bad and they’ve left us new bedding.’

‘Was your instructor nice?’ Andre asked.

Tamara shrugged. ‘I learned a lot, but he was a cold fish. Went home to his family at five thirty every day. I don’t think he cared who I was, or whether I’d be dead in two weeks.’

‘James was really cool,’ Andre said, as he strung together a couple of Karate moves that ended with an unbalanced roundhouse kick. ‘You should have seen his sister’s car. She’s got this mental Dodge Challenger. There was no traffic on the roads when we set off this morning and she was blasting it.’

Tamara smiled. ‘You’re really taken with this James. I think
James
has been every third word out of your mouth since we left London.’

Andre laughed. ‘I’ve never met anyone that cool before. I’d love to be like that when I’m older.’

‘James, James, James, James, James, James, James,’ Tamara teased, as she threw her own Karate kick and blew a kiss. ‘I’m starting to think you’ve fallen in love with James.’

Andre was impressed with his mum’s kick. ‘You’re not half bad.’

‘My instructor said I was a natural,’ Tamara said. ‘I did ballet when I was a girl. It’s not so very different.’

‘Guns were my favourite,’ Andre said. ‘And driving. James let me take a Mercedes up to about a hundred mph.’

‘Pow!’ Tamara said, giving Andre enough of a kick on the butt to send him stumbling forward over one of the mattresses.

She then switched from Karate to WCW mode, moving to jump on top of Andre but giving him heaps of time to roll out of the way.

‘Narrow escape from the big fat pudding!’ Andre said, giggling as his mum hit the springy mattress, making him bounce upwards.

‘I’ll give you fat pudding, Andre Aramov,’ Tamara said, as she reached across and tweaked Andre’s ear before licking her lips to give him a deliberately soggy kiss on the cheek.

‘James was cool,’ Andre said, wiping mom spit on his shirtsleeve before giving her a kiss back. ‘But I only love you.’

They ended up lying next to each other on the grubby mattress. Andre studied ants crawling around a grimy light fitting. Someone had amused themselves by melting the plastic shade with a cigarette end.

‘I can never be free until your dad is dead or in prison,’ Tamara said. ‘When this is over, we’ll find some place close to my family. You’ll go to a better school, not like that shit heap in Bishkek. You’re easily smart enough to be a doctor.’

‘Blood makes me feel faint,’ Andre said.