CHERUB: People's Republic (17 page)

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Authors: Robert Muchamore

BOOK: CHERUB: People's Republic
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She used a grimy bar of soap to wash the worst of the blood off her face and splashed the burn with cold water. As she came back into the break room the teenager strode through with Ingrid’s luggage and a laptop tucked under his arm.

Ning’s guard opened up the fridge. She’d expected to see mouldy bread, and half-eaten noodle pots, but to her surprise it was packed with platters on silver trays for some kind of function in the dance hall.

Ning was in too much pain to feel hungry, but she hadn’t eaten since the picnic food on the plane and felt she ought to because she didn’t know when she’d get another chance. She pulled a paper plate from a cellophane-wrapped stack and made herself swallow a few pieces of fruit, along with a kind of potato salad with chunks of fatty lamb in it. As Ning chewed slowly, her guard tucked into the cling-film-wrapped platters with relish.

‘Can I get my trainers?’ Ning asked.

Her guard didn’t speak English, so she repeated her request, but added gestures like she was pulling on shoes. The guard led Ning out into a passageway. Her backpack leaned against the hallway wall, and looked like it had been pulled about, with bits of clothing spread over the floor.

Unlike the studio and the break room, the hallway had windows. Ning had lost all sense of time and was surprised to see that it was dark.

She dug her spare trainers out of the bag, then leaned against the wall. There was no way to avoid pain as she pushed her injured foot into her trainer, and her toe was much more painful with shoes on, but she could hardly escape in her socks.

As they walked back into the break room, Ning glimpsed Ingrid in the dance studio. She had the laptop in front of her. Leonid sat on a corner of the desk watching intently, while the teenager stood by the wall looking uncomfortable.

Ning’s guard had developed a taste for party nibbles and when she turned back he was leaning into the fridge cramming more food into his mouth. She remembered what Ingrid said about taking any chance to escape, and with the guard deep in the fridge, would there ever be a better one?

Ning stood and moved back towards the hallway. She felt Kuban’s knife in her pocket, but it made her uneasy because she didn’t know the best way to use it.

‘I forgot something,’ Ning said airily, as she stepped back towards the hallway.

She made it two steps out of the staffroom before the guard grabbed her.

‘Nyet,’ he said firmly.

The guard was more than twice Ning’s weight, so she only had one shot. She packed her strength, rage and everything she’d learned in four years at Dandong National Sports Academy into one titanic punch.

The guard’s nose exploded. As he crashed backwards, Ning walked into a mist of blood and threw a second punch at his temple. He slid down the wall, unconscious and minus two front teeth.

Ning looked backwards. She’d made a fair bit of noise and half expected to see Leonid charging towards her, but apparently she’d got away with it. With luck she’d have a few minutes before anyone came out and discovered him.

Ning unbuttoned the guard’s coat, and was disappointed not to find a gun. She took his wallet and grabbed her own small backpack from the floor. She had no idea if all of her stuff was still in there, but there wasn’t time to stand around and check.

Now she had to work out which way to run. One end of the corridor led towards the club they’d passed through on the way in. It had been empty back then, but it was evening now and she could hear music thumping.

She went the other way, heading for a door at the end of the hallway. It was hard to look through because of the reflections of the indoor lights, but it apparently led outside. She made out a set of emergency stairs through the glass, and saw that it led to the courtyard where they’d arrived that morning.

The gates they’d driven through appeared to be shut, but they didn’t look unclimbable. And if the bin scavenger that Kuban beat up had got inside, there had to be a way for Ning to get out. She turned the handle and gave the door a shove. It took some effort to make it budge and she hobbled out on to the metal steps.

20. DOCTOR

The air was muggy and the only light came through the club’s windows. Ning had to battle every step, leaning heavily on the handrail to keep the weight off her bad toe. When she got down to the gravel courtyard a rowdy group of men blocked an alleyway leading to the front of the building, so she kept low and limped between parked cars towards the rear gates.

They were a couple of metres high and too close to the ground to slide under. She pulled the wire mesh, hoping to find a loose flap to climb through. When she had no luck, Ning turned towards the bins. They were drum shaped, two metres high, made from aluminium with handles halfway up.

Ning planned to wheel the bin across to the gate, pull herself up to the top and then jump over. If she’d been fit it would have taken seconds, but her toe and burned stomach was agony as she grabbed the bin’s handle and dragged it four metres towards the gate.

She glanced about as the wheels juddered on the gravel. There was nobody on the stairs, but the men in the alleyway would see if they’d bothered to take an interest.

With the bin resting against the fence, Ning reached up and grabbed the rim with both hands. Fighting pain, she got one foot on the handle, then pulled a knee up on to the rim. The position was precarious and a rat shuffled over black bags as she stepped into the bin.

She wasn’t sure how much the rubbish would settle, but after a wobble she found herself standing inside the bin with the rim coming up to her knees. From here she had to clamber across to the top of the fence and jump down on the far side, but as she reached across she heard footsteps on the metal stairs.

The teenager was first out. Ning lunged desperately for the fence, but her burned abdomen brushed against something sticking out of a bag and her whole body went into spasm. As she crashed backwards into the rubbish bags, Leonid appeared behind the running teenager.

Ning knew she was screwed. She didn’t try getting back over the gate, because even if she made it she was in no state to run.

What happened next made no sense. The teenager started gesticulating and shouting in Russian. The motorised gates slid apart as Leonid shouted in Russian, Kyrgyz or possibly a mix of both. The only word Ning understood was
dollars
.

The sound of men running out of the alleyway made Ning realise that Leonid had offered a bounty to whoever caught her. But surely the teenager had seen her drop into the bin?

Ning didn’t dare peek, but there were voices and footsteps in the gravel nearby. She spent a couple of minutes sharing the bin with at least one rat, until someone decided to wheel it back to its usual spot.

After a thump against the courtyard wall, Ning was shocked by fat fingers curling over the metal rim, followed by the squashed-up face of the powerfully built teenager. She braced herself, expecting to be grabbed and yanked out, but instead he made a shush gesture.

‘I tell them you jump over and run up hill,’ the teen said, struggling with his English. ‘I come back. But it be long time, yes?’

‘Yes,’ Ning said.

‘Do not move. I must go.’

‘Thank you,’ Ning said, as the face disappeared.

*

Ryan was bursting with information when he got home. Amy did a full debriefing, talking him through everything Ethan had said, and everything he’d learned about Gillian Kitsell: the stuff about Gillian being disowned because of her sexuality, Ethan’s sperm donor father, the secure room in the basement.

Amy typed up detailed notes and sent them by secure e-mail to an Information Manager (IM) at TFU headquarters in Dallas, together with the pictures of the lock on the secure room.

The IM would work through the night, checking out everything Ryan had unearthed and following up any leads. When Ryan woke in the morning he’d have a detailed report in his inbox, telling him which facts did and didn’t check out, along with suggested lines for further questioning and things they hoped he could learn from Ethan over the coming days.

‘Hear you had a good day,’ Ted said, as Ryan strolled through to the kitchen.

‘Yeah,’ Ryan said, as he rubbed his eyes. ‘It’s knackering though. You’re only sitting about, but the whole time you’ve got to judge what you can and can’t say and work out what to ask next without the guy losing his temper and calling you a nosy bastard.’

‘He wasn’t shy though?’ Ted asked.

Ted had an apron on and stood by a five-ring hob with rice steaming at the back and a sizzling pan of strip beef and peppers up front. He was also jiggling his bum to a Phil Collins tune coming through the ceiling speakers.

‘Ethan’s quite the gossip queen once you get him going,’ Ryan said, as he leaned towards the pan. ‘Your Mexican smells good. Less sure of your taste in music.’

‘You can’t beat old Phil,’ Ted said. ‘Only thing better than Phil’s concerts is Texas A&M in a play-off game!’

‘Is that baseball or something?’ Ryan asked.

Ted balled up an oven mitt and laughed as he threw it at Ryan. ‘College football, boy! Don’t you know sport?’

‘We have rugby in Britain,’ Ryan explained cheekily. ‘It’s similar to American football, but we don’t need all those girly pads and helmets because the players are
real
men.’

‘I’ll put you over my knee if you ain’t careful,’ Ted laughed. ‘We’re about done here. There’s guacamole and sour cream in the fridge. Can you get that out, and set the table for four?’

‘Four?’

‘Didn’t Amy tell you? The boss is coming. Called on her cell a while back. Must have hit traffic cos I thought she’d be here about now.’

Ryan sighed as he opened the cutlery drawer.

‘No fan of Dr D?’ Ted asked.

‘I’ve only met her a couple of times,’ Ryan explained. ‘She’s annoying, with the high-pitched voice and the wavy arms and the,
Hi I’m Denise, but you gotta call me Dr D
.’

Ted laughed. ‘You’ve got her accent to a tee. I know she’s odd, but she’s very good at her job. She’s also the head of TFU, which means she’s my and Amy’s boss. So try keeping her sweet, OK?’

‘No worries,’ Ryan said, as he peeled cling film from the guacamole and tasted a dab on his little finger. ‘Will she be staying over?’

‘For a few nights,’ Ted said. ‘Anyone asks, she’s your grandmother on your late mother’s side, as per the mission background.’

‘I remember,’ Ryan said, as the doorbell rang.

Ted pressed the button to release the front door and Dr D found her own way to the kitchen. She came in, placed a large gold box on the table and kissed Ryan on both cheeks.

‘I read Amy’s message to the IM,’ Dr D said. ‘Boy-o-boy, that’s progress. I got you a gift. I really think it’ll help with the mission.’

The gold box made Ryan think it was a large cream cake, but he popped the lid and discovered a rounded pebble and a bonsai tree.

‘It’s for your room,’ Dr D said excitedly.

This wasn’t the sort of thing you expected from a senior American intelligence officer. Ryan thought Dr D was bonkers, but Ted’s request to play nice was fresh in his mind.

‘It’s umm … lovely,’ Ryan said. ‘I’ve always liked tiny trees.’

‘It’s a feng shui kit,’ Dr D explained. ‘When I saw your bedroom, with the toilet and shower pointing towards the bed, I knew the energy was all wrong. Place the tree on your window ledge and the stone on the shelf above the toilet. The chi in your room will be rebalanced and you’ll feel properly energised when you wake up in the morning.’

‘Ryan could do with more energy,’ Amy said, as she came in and gave Dr D a kiss. ‘He can be a right miserable bugger when he first gets out of bed.’

Ted whispered in Ryan’s ear as he reached into a cupboard to grab the plates. ‘Google feng shui when you get a chance,’ he said. ‘And be grateful, she once bought me a purple healing shirt.’

Dr D sat at the dining table as Ryan spread out plates and cutlery.

‘I reckon our best bet will be finding a new lady friend for Gillian Kitsell,’ Dr D said. ‘Ryan, we need to know Gillian’s type. Next time you’re over at the house, look out for any photos of Gillian with one of her exes.’

‘TFU not finding out that Gillian’s a lesbo must be a bit of a cock-up,’ Ryan said. ‘I mean, people she works with must know. And she travels so there must be airline records of her flying with female partners.’

Dr D bristled at the suggestion that someone at TFU hadn’t been thorough. ‘Young man,’ she said firmly. ‘We ran a background check. But Gillian runs a computer security company. She’s a cautious lady, surrounded by employees who are instructed to report anything unusual to their company’s internal security team.

‘At present, Gillian has no idea she’s under investigation, or that we know she’s related to members of the Aramov Clan. But all she needs is one tip-off that someone checked her name on the United Airlines database, or an ex-girlfriend calling up to say that someone’s been asking questions, and Gillian could jet off to Kyrgyzstan, where we can’t lay a finger on her.’

21. DAN

Ning waited for hours. Rubbish bags landed on her head, flies and rats freaked her out and the stench of decay lined her throat. She heard men coming back through the gates, disappointed not to score their bounty, but Leonid didn’t seem too fussed. He’d gone back upstairs to work on Ingrid.

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