Brigands M. C. (14 page)

The desk sergeant pressed a buzzer to let the Asian behind the counter. He headed up to an open-plan office on the third floor that belonged to the National Police Biker Task Force (NPBTF). It was a grand name for a squad with eleven officers, two cars and no budget for overtime.

Everyone looked towards the Asian man as he stepped into the room. ‘I think we’re in,’ he smiled. ‘Security’s a joke. I wasn’t patted down for a bug or anything.’

‘Nice one, Georgie boy,’ a female officer answered and a couple of other officers celebrated by banging on their desks and hurling compliments.

‘He called me a Paki though,’ George grinned. ‘So I’m Tasering the prick when we bust him.’

Chief Inspector Ross Johnson had been in charge of NPBTF for the last nine months. ‘How’d it go, George?’ he asked, as he sauntered out of his office.

‘Not too shabby, guv,’ George admitted, as he stopped in front of his boss and rested an elbow on a beige partition. ‘He baulked when he saw the size of the order. Just hope we didn’t over-egg it.’

Ross shrugged and smiled. ‘I’d hug you if you didn’t look so damned sweaty. If the Führer can’t deliver that quantity of weapons, he’ll still try and sell us as much as he can. That’s gonna push his supply chain to the limits and our boy at the other end of the line should get drafted in to help out.’

George cracked a big smile. ‘Either that or we’ll screw up, lose half a million in cash, get our undercover cop killed and direct traffic until we’re old enough to retire.’

Lauren Onions – now known as Lauren Adams – stepped out of the lift on the eighth floor of the main building on CHERUB campus. She wore a black CHERUB T-shirt. Her best friend Bethany Parker was alongside, wearing a navy shirt she’d earned during an eight-month mission in Brazil the previous year.

‘Crappy maths homework,’ Bethany complained. ‘We should start a petition for a
no homework on your birthday
rule.’

‘No homework ever would be better,’ Lauren smiled, as the pair headed towards the doors of their adjoining bedrooms. ‘And free butterscotch ice cream in every classroom.’

‘Yay,’ Bethany agreed. ‘And all lessons to be taught by Rafael Nadal look-alikes with their shirts off.’

‘I like the way you think,’ Lauren laughed.

Bethany opened her door, and then shot backwards in fright as a bang and a blue flash blasted out of her doorway. It was followed by orange and green sparks, a whizzing sound and a wall-trembling thud. As she stood shielding her ears a grey cloud billowed into the corridor and set off a smoke alarm.

‘What the
bloody
hell?’ Lauren gawped.

Bethany’s twelve-year-old brother Jake and his friend Kevin Sumner had jumped out of the room directly opposite and videoed the firework display on a camera phone.

‘Takedown!’ Jake shouted.

‘You little dickhead,’ Bethany shouted back as she wafted the smoke away from her face. ‘Look at my room! Everything’s gonna stink of smoke. You could have started a fire!’

‘It was only a few fireworks in a biscuit tin,’ Jake grinned. ‘We had fire extinguishers on standby.’

As Bethany rushed into her room to open the balcony doors and clear the smoke, a pair of hands grabbed her from behind, giving her a second fright. The hands were followed by a gentle kiss on the neck.

‘Didn’t you appreciate that?’ Bethany’s fourteenyear-old boyfriend Andy Lagan grinned. ‘If you think it was loud out there you should have been in here. My ears are
ringing
.’

‘Serves you right,’ Bethany yelled indignantly, as Andy peeled off a set of eye goggles. ‘At least you were expecting it.’

But she managed a smile as her bathroom door came open and bodies began to pour out singing
Happy birthday to you
. All of her friends were there, including Lauren’s boyfriend Rat, a whole bunch of girls and a few older kids.

Lauren’s sixteen-year-old brother James Adams stood in the middle of the gathering holding a chocolate cake with candles ablaze and
Happy Fourteenth Birthday
piped across the top in icing.

‘You look like a tomato and you smell like dog poo,’ Jake sang noisily, as he followed Lauren into the room. Andy sheepishly phoned down to ground-floor reception to explain that the building wasn’t on fire and that the siren was a false alarm.

‘I hate you evil bastards,’ Bethany giggled, and she plunged two fingers into the cake and wiped a brown smear across James Adams’ cheek. She licked chocolate frosting off her fingers and told everyone that it tasted great before hugging a couple of the girls.

‘Why wasn’t I in on this?’ Lauren complained.

‘You and your humongous trap,’ Jake answered.

James placed the cake on Bethany’s desk beside a pile of forks and paper plates. She’d already opened some gifts at breakfast time, but there were more presents on her bed.

Feeling happy, Bethany put an arm around boyfriend Andy and brother Jake and smiled for another picture.

‘My idiot brother and my idiot boyfriend,’ Bethany grinned. ‘But I love ’em both really.’

*

Eight floors down, thirteen-year-old Dante Welsh – formerly Dante Scott – sat in Zara Asker’s office. Zara had been promoted to chairman of CHERUB two years earlier and was currently five months pregnant. Pictures of four-year-old Joshua and two-year-old Tiffany adorned the desk and the window ledge behind her head.

‘What’s it feel like being back?’ Zara asked.

‘Weird,’ Dante admitted, speaking with a slight Belfast accent as he ran his hands through shoulder-length red hair.

‘I looked up the stats,’ Zara said, moving away from her desk towards a roll-top cabinet beside the fireplace at the opposite end of the office. ‘Thirty-four months is the second longest mission on record and
easily
the longest of any agent currently serving on campus.’

‘I was only supposed to be gone for six weeks,’ Dante smiled. ‘I met some good people, but I wouldn’t be too sorry if I never went near another Belfast housing estate again.’

‘And the thumb?’ Zara asked.

Dante held his left thumb in the air, showing a nasty scar and stitch marks that ran all around. ‘Feeling’s almost back to normal. That surgeon did a blinding job sewing it back on.’

‘Your mission controller, Eimer, said you worked hard to keep your fitness levels up.’

‘Yeah,’ Dante said. ‘I didn’t want to come back to campus and have old Mr Large get his teeth into me. So I bought some discs and a weight bench. I went running whenever I could and I even got some sparring in with Eimer to keep our combat skills fresh.’

‘Great,’ Zara smiled. ‘It’s really impressive that you stuck with your training discipline over such a long mission. Though you don’t have Mr Large to worry about, he’s no longer with us.’

‘Praise God!’ Dante whistled. ‘Glad to see the back of that creep. What I can’t believe is that I come back after all this time and Holly’s off skiing in New Zealand. I’ve spoken to her on the webcam every week and we squeezed in a couple of weeks together at the hostel last summer, but I was really looking forward to us being properly back together.’

‘Your sister’s a brilliant little kid,’ Zara said. ‘My oldest Joshua has started lessons on campus. Holly’s that bit older and he says she’s a real bossy boots.’

‘So your kids are going to be CHERUB agents?’ Dante asked. ‘I didn’t think that was allowed.’

‘We got the rule change approved by the Intelligence Minister three months back. We’re always short of recruits. We conducted an informal survey and a surprising number of ex-cherubs said they’d be happy to let their children become CHERUB agents some day.’

‘So one day my kids could be CHERUB agents too?’ Dante laughed.

Zara nodded. ‘Though to start with, we’re only considering kids who have two parents working on campus, or if
both
parents are former CHERUB agents.’

‘Plenty of pretty girls on CHERUB campus for me to start breeding with,’ Dante grinned.

‘Not for a few years I’d
very
much hope,’ Zara said, adopting a stiff tone but keeping up her smile. ‘Speaking of rules, you know that even though you performed outstandingly on a three-year mission I can’t award you a black shirt? It’s only for outstanding performance on
more
than one mission.’

Dante nodded. ‘I don’t care. I’m still only thirteen, there’s plenty of time.’

‘I think it’s a stupid rule,’ Zara admitted. ‘I’d change it, but it has to be approved by the ethics committee and the Intelligence Minister and frankly I have higher priorities. However, in your case I did get the ethics committee to approve an extra mission. Specifically, this arduous mission involves a missing green marker pen, somewhere in my office. Your mission is to find it and return it to my pen pot. I believe that it was last seen somewhere underneath the chair you’re sitting on.’

Dante looked down at the carpet and picked up the marker pen between the chromed legs of his chair.

‘This one?’

‘An
outstanding
mission performance if ever I saw it,’ Zara said cheerfully, before reaching into her cupboard and pulling out a brand new CHERUB tee. ‘Congratulations, you’ve earned your black shirt.’

Dante was startled and felt a tear welling up in his eye. ‘You have no idea how desperate I was when I came here nearly five years ago,’ he said. ‘Making friends and the whole thing of getting ready for training really gave me focus. Without CHERUB I don’t know who I’d have been or where I’d have ended up.’

‘I just hope you’re not too old for a hug,’ Zara said. Dante stood up and Zara wrapped her arms around his back. ‘If your parents were alive they’d be bloody proud of you, Dante. Now go upstairs and go find all your friends.’

Dante was on a high as he left Zara’s office, but his mood dimmed as he hooked a large backpack over his shoulder and pulled a wheelie case towards the lift. Although he had a room on the eighth floor, he’d spent less than two months there after passing basic training.

The East Belfast estate and the people he’d known during his mission felt more like his real friends. The people he’d met on campus three years earlier had probably forgotten all about him.

There was a curious whiff of gunpowder in the eighth-floor hallway as Dante stepped from the lift.

Zara had sent one of the cleaning staff up to his room the previous day to clean it and put fresh sheets on his bed. There were also new sets of CHERUB uniform on the bed and new boots on the floor, but people change a lot between ten and thirteen. The casual clothes in his wardrobe were way too small and Dante felt a mixture of embarrassment and nostalgia at the wrestling posters on his walls and the action figures displayed on the shelf above his sofa.

The unopened black T-shirt was crammed into the pocket of Dante’s hoodie. After stripping to his waist, he couldn’t resist eyeing himself in his mirrored wardrobe door. He liked his dramatic red hair and muscular torso, but he wished his skin wasn’t so pale and he tutted at the sight of a burgeoning zit on his shoulder blade.

‘I’ll get the Hoover,’ a girl out in the hallway shouted. ‘It’ll be fine as long as nobody treads it into the carpet.’

The voice took Dante back to his first day on campus. He grabbed the handle of his bedroom door and made the girl scream.

‘Oh my god! I thought I’d seen a ghost!’ Lauren blurted, placing both hands over her heart before breaking into a huge smile. ‘Dante, where the bloody hell have you been?’

‘Ducking and weaving,’ he grinned. ‘Here and there, around and about.’

‘You’ve got an Irish accent!’

‘I guess if you spend three years anywhere you’ll pick up an accent,’ Dante explained. ‘You smell better than the last time I saw you.’

‘When was that?’

‘You’d spent the day on ditch-digging punishment after you hit Mr Large with a spade,’ Dante grinned. ‘You were muddy and smelled vaguely like a cow’s bottom.’

‘That was so awful,’ Lauren groaned. ‘It was impossible to get the stench out of my hair.’

‘You were about to restart basic training and I got sent off to Belfast before you qualified. Judging by the black T-shirt and your beautiful smile you’ve done OK since then.’

Lauren was flattered. ‘Oh aren’t you a charmer?’ she grinned. ‘You look like you’ve been hitting the weights. Do you still want to be a wrestler?’

Dante laughed. ‘It’s been a
long
time. I’ve even heard a rumour that some of that wrestling is faked.’

‘Get
out
of town,’ Lauren giggled. ‘We’re in the middle of Bethany’s birthday party,’ she continued, as she grabbed Dante’s wrist and gave him a tug. ‘Come to her room, everyone’s in there.’

So Lauren forgot all about fetching the Hoover and Dante found himself stepping into Bethany’s crowded room, bare-chested with the new black T-shirt in his hand.

‘Look who it is,’ Lauren said enthusiastically.

Some kids like Rat and Andy had joined CHERUB after Dante went off on his mission and had no clue who he was. Others knew Dante, but they’d all aged three years and it was tricky putting names to faces.

‘Oooh, a hunky boy on my birthday,’ Bethany grinned as she approached Dante. ‘Are you gonna strip for me?’