Divine Madness (3 page)

‘Someone paid a lot of money to get their hands on these,’ Kerry said.

‘Whys and wherefores later, Kerry,’ Chloe warned, deliberately keeping her voice calm. ‘Just take some photographs and get out as quickly as you can.’

Kerry slid a tiny digital camera out of her jeans. She placed the two detonators, which looked like tiny fireworks, on the top of the drawer and took a picture. While the flash recharged, she set out the explosive ready to photograph.

The doorbell rang.

‘Dammit,’ Kerry gasped into the microphone. ‘Chloe, who is that?’

In the flat five doors along, Chloe sat at the laptop clicking through the different camera feeds until she came to the one positioned in the corridor outside.

‘It’s Bruce,’ Chloe said.

Kerry snapped the picture of the explosive and started putting it back into the bag in a state of panic.

‘What the
 
hell
 
is he playing at?’

‘I don’t know,’ Chloe said frantically. ‘He must have got out of detention and decided to come straight over there.’

‘Didn’t you ring him to say what was going on?’

‘Oh …’ Chloe said, sounding choked. ‘I should have, shouldn’t I?’

Kerry was annoyed, but she didn’t have time to let it fester. She quickly wound the plastic bag around the package, shoved it back under the socks and pushed the drawer shut.

‘Clyde and Rebecca are in the kitchen,’ Chloe said.

Kerry tried to think as she heard Rebecca answer the front door. The kitchen was less than two metres away; there was no way she could emerge from Clyde’s bedroom without being seen.

‘Hi, Becks,’ Bruce grinned, speaking in stilted Cantonese that had improved rapidly over the six weeks of the mission. ‘I thought you and Kerry would be doing homework. Is she here?’

Rebecca nodded. ‘How was detention?’

‘Oh, nothing major,’ Bruce shrugged. ‘Just wasted half an hour of my life staring at a clock with my arms folded.’

Clyde looked put out at having had to answer the door. ‘Might as well go for a pee now I’m up. I was kicking that guy’s butt ’til you got here.’

‘You can’t, Kerry’s in there,’ Rebecca said.

But by the time the words were out, Clyde had the bathroom door open.

‘Not unless she’s flushed herself down the toilet she isn’t.’

Rebecca looked mystified, as Bruce had the horrible realisation that he’d probably blundered in and disturbed Kerry when she was up to something.

‘Maybe she went home,’ Bruce said edgily.

Back in Clyde’s tiny bedroom, Kerry realised she needed to do something desperate as she ripped out the earpiece and tucked it back down her T-shirt.

Rebecca opened her bedroom door and leaned inside. ‘Kerry? – Well, she’s not in there.’

Kerry plunged her little finger deep into her nostril, then dug her nail into the soft tissue and ripped it out. The pain was horrendous, but she managed to snatch a wad of tissues from Clyde’s bedside table and bunch them against her face as he stepped into the room.

‘What the
 
hell
 
are you doing in here?’

As Kerry turned to face Clyde, she blew out the drips of blood that had collected at the base of her nostril. Clyde looked shocked as it dribbled over her lips and down her chin.

Rebecca stepped in behind her brother. ‘Oh my god, Kerry. What happened?’

Kerry didn’t need to fake anything; the injury she’d inflicted upon herself was bloody and extremely painful.

‘I get nosebleeds quite a bit. I was coming out of the toilet and it started up really bad. I ran in here to grab tissues.’

If Rebecca or Clyde had stopped to think in great depth, they might have wondered why Kerry didn’t go back into the bathroom and grab some toilet tissue, or grab a paper towel from the kitchen rather than enter a room she wasn’t familiar with. But neither of them could think beyond the bloody face and pained expression standing right in front of them.

‘What do you want us to do, Kerry?’ Clyde asked.

‘I think I’d better go home,’ Kerry said, close to sobbing. ‘My mum’s there. She knows how to stop the bleeding. She’s done it loads of times before.’

*

Bruce opened the door of the flat. Kyle and Chloe had watched Kerry’s escape plan unfold on the laptop screen, but they weren’t prepared for the torrent of blood pouring down her neck as she stumbled towards the table and slumped into a dining chair, glowering at Bruce.

‘Moron,’ Kerry screamed. ‘You nearly blew this whole

operation.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think,’ Bruce said, wrapping his hands over his head, totally unable to look Kerry in the eye.

‘You
 
never
 
think.’

Chloe stepped in to calm them down. ‘Kerry, it was my fault. I should have phoned Bruce.’

‘It wasn’t you that got a detention,’ Kerry said.

She grabbed her camera out of her pocket and banged it on the table, as Kyle grabbed a first aid box from under the sink.

‘Bruce,’ Kyle said, trying to be diplomatic, ‘why don’t you go in the other room and e-mail the photographs to John. I’ll stay here and patch up Kerry.’

Bruce and Chloe walked through to the living-room, as Kyle handed Kerry a damp flannel to wash her face.

‘The old nosebleed trick,’ Kyle said. ‘I learned it in espionage training, but to be honest I’d totally forgotten it.’

Kerry appreciated Kyle’s bedside manner and managed a tight smile as she dumped the bloody flannel on the table in front of her. ‘I won’t be in any hurry to use it again.’

‘OK, tip your head back. I need to take a look up there.’

Kyle took a small torch out of the first aid box and shone it up Kerry’s nostril. The flow was already slowing, as the blood darkened and clotted.

‘Fingernails pick up a lot of dirt and bacteria, Kerry. I’m gonna squirt antiseptic up there so you don’t get an infection.’

Kerry couldn’t nod with her head tipped back, so she made a little
 
uh-huh
 
noise as Kyle flipped the top off a pump spray.

‘This might be a little bit cold. Hold your breath; I don’t want it running down into your throat.’

Kerry clenched her fists in pain as the mist of antiseptic burned the inside of her nose.

‘Sorry,’ Kyle said. ‘I’ll make you an ice pack from the fridge. You’ll have to hold it against your nose until the bleeding stops.’

Chloe came back into the kitchen from the living-room.

‘I spoke to John at his hotel and told him about the plastic explosive. He says it’s critical that we find out where Clyde Xu’s meeting is tonight and what’s being said.’

Every breath reminded Kerry of the dried blood caked inside her nostril. She was in a packed shopping street, walking briskly alongside her mission controller, John Jones. It was dusk and the greens and reds of hundreds of illuminated signs reflected off his silver-framed glasses and bald head.

‘Can you still see Clyde?’ Kerry asked.

She could only see the backs and heads crammed around her. John was taller, with a view over the crowd.

‘I think I can,’ John said. ‘But straight dark hair isn’t exactly uncommon around here.’

There was a brief gap in the crowd and John caught a glance of the yellow baseball jersey attached to the head he’d been watching for the last two minutes. Clyde Xu was wearing a green bomber jacket.

‘Dammit,’ John said. ‘Wrong guy.’

‘You’re joking,’ Kerry gasped, as they stopped walking and anxiously turned into the frontage of a shop selling tacky jewellery.

John pulled a smart phone out of his pocket and dialled Chloe. She was back at the apartment, sitting in front of the laptop.

‘I’ve lost Xu,’ John said. ‘What are you getting?’

MI5 had connections inside Hong Kong’s telecommunications industry and they’d managed to set up a trace on Clyde Xu’s mobile phone signal, without having to tell the Chinese authorities about the CHERUB operation.

‘According to this he’s right on top of you, John,’ Chloe said. ‘Mobile tracking isn’t pinpoint, but he should be less than fifty metres away.’

‘Which way is he moving?’

‘Nowhere fast. Maybe he’s gone into a shop or something.’

‘Thanks, Chloe,’ John said. ‘Call me back if he starts moving.’

John snapped the phone shut and looked across at Kerry. ‘Any sign?’

‘I’m too short,’ Kerry said. ‘I can’t see a thing.’

‘Chloe said he’s stopped moving.’

‘We passed a Starbucks twenty metres back,’ Kerry said. ‘We could check that out.’

‘Right,’ John said.

As the pair turned away from the display of cheap watches to head for Starbucks, Kerry spotted a green jacket, hands buried in pockets. It flashed past less than a metre in front of them. Luckily, Clyde Xu had things on his mind and his eyes were glued to the back of the person walking ahead of him.

John and Kerry exchanged shocked expressions, before stepping into the crowd and resuming the chase.

‘How did we manage to get in front of him?’ Kerry asked.

‘Must have dropped into a shop to buy something,’ John said, as he craned his neck, desperate not to lose his fix on Xu for a second time.

Kerry looked at her watch. It was three minutes to eight, which either meant Clyde was running late, or that the meeting was going to take place somewhere nearby. They closed right up on their target as they waited to cross a road. As soon as the green walk sign lit up, Clyde jogged forward behind the first line of stopped cars, then bounded across the pavement and into a noodle bar with a grubby white sign and a plate glass frontage steamed up with condensation.

They wanted to give Clyde a few moments to settle into the restaurant. John and Kerry crossed the road at a sedate pace, then made themselves look busy at a newsstand. Kerry bought a
 
Hong Kong Times
 
and some sweets, while John called Kyle on his mobile phone.

‘Kyle, where are you?’

‘Me and Bruce saw you crossing the road,’ Kyle answered. ‘Don’t sweat it.’

‘OK,’ John said. ‘Stay close to the restaurant, but don’t let Clyde see you and don’t make any moves before I give you the all clear, you understand?’

‘You’re the boss,’ Kyle answered.

John snapped his phone shut and looked at Kerry as she slid a tube of mints into her jeans. ‘Ready?’

Kerry handed John the newspaper and nodded. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

‘OK, go and win yourself an Oscar. I’ll follow you inside in three minutes.’

Because of the condensation, Kerry wasn’t sure what she’d find as she pushed open the glass door. The kitchen was at the front of the restaurant, with a muggy soy-sauce smell rising from steaming tubs of noodle and rice dishes.

A sweaty face popped up from behind the counter. ‘Hi, do you want a table, or take-away?’

‘Table,’ Kerry said tightly. ‘I think my friend is already here.’

The man waved his hand towards the rows of plastic tables at the back of the restaurant. Kerry felt queasy as she passed a short line of customers waiting for take-out. The restaurant was seventy per cent full and the decibel level was pretty high. She spotted Clyde at a table and was relieved to see that the person he was meeting hadn’t arrived. He looked tetchy, jiggling his ankle up and down and fanning himself with a laminated menu.

‘Hi,’ Kerry said, as she sat opposite.

Clyde’s chin dropped so fast it practically hit the tabletop. ‘What …? What are you doing here?’

‘I followed you,’ Kerry confessed.

‘Par-don
 
me
?’

Kerry started to babble. ‘Clyde, I know this probably sounds dumb, but I really wanted to talk to you. I’ve been meaning to for ages, but I kept chickening out. You see, I can’t stop thinking about you. All the time. I just
 
need
 
to know if you like me. You know, not like a friend. Like a girlfriend.’

‘Well, um … Kerry, I’m flattered.’

‘Oh … This feels so dumb now,’ Kerry said, screwing up her face like she was about to cry. As she did, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled the sticky backing away from a small listening device.

‘Are you even allowed out this late on your own?’

‘Not really,’ Kerry sniffed. ‘I should have realised you didn’t like me.’

‘Kerry, there’s nothing wrong with you. I bet we’d get on really well if we were the same age. But I’m sixteen and you’re thirteen. Be sensible, that’s never gonna work, is it?’

‘I’m nearly fourteen,’ Kerry said, as she stuck the bug to the underside of the table.

Now the initial shock of Kerry’s presence had worn off, Clyde put some thought into how embarrassing it was going to be if the person he was meeting found a girl sobbing at his table.

‘And I’m nearly seventeen,’ Clyde said, snatching Kerry’s wrist and squeezing it hard.