New Guard (CHERUB) (24 page)

The tyres were reinforced, so Bruce targeted the passenger side window, taking chunks out of the bulletproof glass as the driver hit the gas. Bruce was almost through the glass, when he saw the bodyguard open a port in the side window and take a couple of shots back.

‘Shit!’ Bruce shouted, starting to run as the Mercedes roared off and the grenade under the equipment truck exploded.

While Lauren and Bruce dealt with vehicles, James and Ryan approached their targets.

‘Come with me,’ Ryan said. ‘We’ve got bikes to get you out of here.’

James covered the electrician. ‘Wrists together,’ he shouted, as he pulled out a set of plasticuffs. ‘Put these around. We won’t hurt you if you don’t give us shit.’

‘Where’s the boy?’ Ryan asked, referring to a lad of about thirteen who’d been running back and forth helping the electrician.

‘I think he went to the electrician’s van to fetch something,’ Sachs said, as he glanced warily at the assassin drone hovering fifty metres overhead.

As James pulled the cuffs tightly round the electrician’s wrists, Ryan saw the boy dart out from under the hut and charge towards him with a screwdriver, screaming something in Arabic. Ryan tried to kick him down, but the assault rifle and a heavy pack threw his balance and the kid somehow got the screwdriver deep into Ryan’s bicep.

Ryan roared in pain, feeling his arm lock up and his neck muscles spasm.

The boy kept running. James took aim and had a clear shot between the lad’s shoulders that would have blown his heart out through his ribs. But the electrician was yelling, ‘Have mercy for my son,’ in Arabic.

James raised his muzzle a few centimetres and sent the boy scrambling for cover with a shot that went high over his head.

‘Get back here, boy,’ James yelled, in wretched Arabic.

‘He’s just going to cuff your hands,’ Ryan added, as James fired another warning shot.

As the boy stopped running and turned, hands raised in surrender, Tovah’s drone swooped in from behind and ripped him in half with a dozen bullets. James swore furiously as the electrician started screaming. James wanted to say something, but what do you say to a man who just watched his son die? All James could do was keep rolling.

‘Bikes,’ James spluttered, head spinning as he made hand signals for Sachs and Yuen to get moving. ‘Ryan, can you take Yuen with you?’

‘Haven’t got much choice,’ Ryan said, as Lauren and Bruce came running in from the side.

‘Mercedes got away,’ Bruce said. ‘Why’d Tovah shoot the boy?’

‘How the hell should I know?’ James roared furiously. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

There were four dirt bikes hidden at the roadside. Smoke from the burning truck cut the air as James grabbed his bike and eyeballed Sachs.

‘You been on a bike before?’ James asked, as Bruce and Lauren kick-started theirs.

Sachs shook his head anxiously.

‘You let
me
ride,’ James said. ‘Sit up straight, put your arms around my waist. Tight, but not so tight that I can’t breathe. OK?’

‘There’s roadblocks,’ Sachs protested. ‘We’re eighty kilometres from the border.’

‘You think we’re
that
dumb?’ James said irritably. ‘Just do what you’re told. We need to get out of here.’

The drone stood sentry overhead as Lauren and Bruce sped off across country. Ryan and James made more gentle starts, so as not to terrify their greenhorn pillion passengers.

‘Tovah,’ James said, shielding his view to avoid a final look at the teenager. ‘We’re heading out. Bruce said one Mercedes got away, so they could have radioed for help. What can you see?’

‘Nothing so far,’ Tovah said. ‘Drone only has two minutes’ fuel. I’m about to crash it into the control building.’

James hoped the cuffed electrician would have had sense enough to start walking before the drone crashed. Riding with Sachs’ bulk was hell. His weight made the back wheel slam down on every bump. James had calculated that the 5km ride back to the supermarket would average 30kph and take around ten minutes, but even half that speed was making the bike unstable and Ryan was having the same problem with Yuen.

Back at the supermarket, Tovah made final checks on the planes, while Kyle laid out explosive charges, so that Islamic State didn’t get hold of high-tech equipment that was too heavy to fly home. As he laid a charge under the makeshift control desk they’d built using crates and a door, he noticed something on one of the local surveillance cameras.

‘Shit,’ Kyle shouted. ‘Tovah, get over here.’

‘I’m rechecking the wing pressures,’ she said irritably. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘Dust trails,’ Kyle said as he zoomed a surveillance image. ‘Looks like a pick-up truck with a big gun on the back and a couple of cars.’

Tovah ran so fast that she skidded and almost turned her ankle. ‘How the hell can they know we’re here?’ she yelled.

‘Maybe someone saw the bikes leave,’ Kyle suggested. ‘Or heard Bruce’s shot.’

‘Doesn’t matter how,’ Tovah said, as she picked up her assault rifle, then pulled a radio off her belt to speak to the four riders on their com units. ‘We’ve got incoming,’ she warned. ‘Get here as fast as you can and don’t be surprised if you have to shoot at something when you do.’

Two pick-ups headed towards the mall from the east. A Toyota, closing at speed with six guys bouncing in the back, and a Mitsubishi double cab, with five plus driver inside and a 20mm anti-aircraft cannon welded into the rear compartment. From the west the bulletproof M-Class Mercedes threw up a trail of dust, with a white van right behind.

‘Planes are ready to roll,’ Tovah told Kyle, as she stood inside the supermarket stuffing things into her backpack. ‘I’m gonna hold these dudes off. You run communication, OK?’

‘Right,’ Kyle said, as Tovah swapped her headset for an in-ear com unit, snatched her assault rifle and dashed through the remains of plateglass windows.

The Mitsubishi crawled tentatively into the parking lot as Tovah took cover behind the rubbled side wall of a florist’s shop. The rear cab door flung open and two guys jumped out, keeping low as they headed towards the fuel station. The rest drove deeper into the lot.

Tovah watched through her rifle sight, seeing the confused body language of a team with nobody giving orders. At the same time, the Toyota had circled to the rear of the mall. It stopped by an exit on to the main road and the men in the back started jumping out.

Lauren’s voice came over the intercom, the engine of her speeding dirt bike in the background. ‘Bruce and I have the mall in sight, over.’

‘Circle around and deal with the Toyota,’ Tovah said. ‘Be aware there are two hostiles near the gas station.’

‘Roger that,’ Lauren said.

As the Mitsubishi slowed down, Tovah turned the polarising filter on her gun-sight to cut out the reflection coming off the windshield. The instant she had a clear view, she aligned the crosshairs with the driver’s nose and took a shot.

The truck jerked forwards as his head exploded. Doors flung open and panicked guys jumped out. IS clearly sent its best troops to forward areas, because these were guys in their fifties, armed with careworn Kalashnikovs, plus a kid of about sixteen.

The teenager was first to die. A shot in the gut and another through his head as he crumpled. Tovah was aware of shots coming from the guys getting out of the Toyota, but her position was well covered and only a freak ricochet could cause a problem. The old guys getting out the other side were trickier, because the pick-up gave them cover.

Tovah dug into her trouser pocket, pulled the pin on an anti-personnel grenade, then bobbed up and made a ground-skimming throw that ended with the grenade bouncing off the underside of the truck. The grenade was filled with hundreds of metal flechettes and screams erupted as the blast lifted the back end of the Mitsubishi, and knocked the men on its opposite side unconscious.

Tovah bobbed up, thinking she might be able to take the vehicle and use the big rear-mounted gun, but the hot metal had also punctured the fuel tank. The rear end was ablaze and she didn’t fancy being this close when strands of 20mm ammunition clips heated up.

As Tovah scrambled out the back of the crumbled florist shop, Lauren and Bruce jumped off their bikes and took cover, squatting by the mall’s perimeter fence, fifty metres from the Toyota and five middle-aged guys taking sporadic shots at Tovah’s position.

Lauren was a good shot, but she felt sick as she crashed down in the dirt beside Bruce. ‘You ever killed anyone before?’

Bruce shook his head nervously. ‘There’s a lot of them and a few of us. Gotta make it count.’

Lauren took a one-knee firing position and looked through her scope. ‘I’ll work from left.’

‘Roger that,’ Bruce said. ‘Ready?’

‘As I’ll ever be.’

Lauren felt grim as she looked through her sight. Greying hair, sweaty necks. Someone’s husband, someone’s granddad. She shot two guys between the shoulder blades, while Bruce did exactly the same. The fifth target was in front of the truck, but seemed to think the bullets were coming from Tovah’s direction and actually stepped out of cover and right into Lauren’s field of view. It was so easy it seemed unfair.

‘Shit, yeah,’ Bruce shouted, as he whacked Lauren on the back. But she was shaking and he realised he’d hit the wrong tone. ‘You OK?’

‘No,’ Lauren said, choking back tears. ‘No I’m not.’

Bruce realised he needed to take charge. They were less than two hundred metres from the supermarket, so it seemed pointless going back to the bikes. ‘Let’s roll,’ he said, as he rubbed Lauren’s back. ‘You’ll be fine, mate.’

Tovah came enthusiastically over the intercom. ‘You kiddies can shoot!’ she yelped. ‘Kyle, what’s the situation with incoming?’

‘James and Ryan are almost here,’ Kyle said. ‘Looks like the Mercedes and the van didn’t like what they’ve seen and are presently keeping their distance.’

‘Copy that,’ Tovah said as she started running in the open towards the Toyota. ‘There’s still two hostiles out by the garage.’

‘Will they attack after we just wiped their buddies out?’ Bruce asked.

By this time, Tovah had jogged to within speaking distance, and could see that Lauren was shaken up. ‘Our wings are an eight-metre target and one shot will deflate them,’ Tovah said. ‘We can’t have
anyone
close enough to take pot shots.’

Bruce nodded, but Lauren seemed spaced out. ‘Get back inside with Kyle,’ Bruce told her soothingly. ‘Get your plane running and leave when you get the all-clear.’

‘Right,’ Lauren said, unable to keep her eyes off the dead bodies.

‘You and me drive,’ Tovah told Bruce, glancing about warily as she opened the driver’s door of the Toyota, and pleased to spot a key in the ignition.

‘I’ve had my eye on them,’ Kyle said, over the com. ‘They’re around the garage. They’ve definitely not made a run for it.’

‘Roger that,’ Tovah said, as Bruce jumped into the rear of the pick-up.

The garage was five hundred metres, heading away from the supermarket. The drive was a straight line, interrupted only by a couple of speed humps. Tovah kept super low, peeking over the dashboard as she rammed the accelerator. In the distance, she heard James and Ryan’s dirt bikes approaching from the opposite side of the supermarket. Then she jolted in fright as a bullet shot through the cab, shattering both front and rear screens.

‘Crap!’ Bruce shouted, shielding his face as glass showered the open rear compartment.

Another shot hit the engine block as Tovah threw the pick-up sharp right and stopped close by the garage’s buckled roof.

‘One up top,’ Bruce gasped, bashing his shoulder as his body slammed the pick-up’s metal casing.

As Tovah scrambled out, Bruce bobbed up and took three quick shots. The last one hit a guy crouching in the buckled roof canopy. It was only a shoulder shot, but Tovah scrambled around the side of the bombed-out gas station and shot him through the chest before he’d landed.

‘One down,’ Tovah yelled.

They circled the canopy, meeting up at the far side. The small garage shop was levelled and offered no hiding place. They were both mystified until Bruce spotted the holes where the underground fuel tanks had blown open.

‘Can’t be anywhere else,’ Bruce whispered, as he pulled a grenade and rolled it into a hole.

‘
Laa, laa,
’ a small figure shouted as it clambered out of the hole. Not even a teen yet, yelling the Arabic word for
no
.

Tovah lined her pistol up to shoot, but Bruce saw that the figure was unarmed and knocked Tovah’s hand, sending the shot ripping through the canopy.

‘You already killed one kid today,’ Bruce shouted.

‘I targeted someone I saw running away,’ Tovah yelled furiously. ‘Drones don’t recognise surrender gestures.’

As Tovah backed up, Bruce yanked out the small body, scrambled a few metres and dived for cover. Fortunately, the buckled canopy absorbed most of the blast, and Bruce’s combat helmet took the sting out of a fist-sized chunk of concrete.

With ears ringing and dust subsiding, Bruce thought about the boy trapped beneath him. Why had he taken a dumb risk? What if the boy was about to pull the pin on a grenade?

Bruce flipped into combat mode, grasping the boy’s arms. If he was unarmed, Bruce figured there was no harm in kicking him up the arse and sending him on his way. But when he rolled the boy on to his back, there was a rip in his grubby turquoise T-shirt. Beneath the rip, tightly strapped bandages had slipped down, exposing a boob.

‘You’re a girl,’ Bruce blurted.

‘Come on,’ Tovah shouted to Bruce. Then to Kyle on the com, ‘We’re clear to fly. Start launching.’

The girl looked tearful and started babbling in Arabic. ‘I don’t understand,’ Bruce said. ‘You’re no threat to us. You can leave.’

Tovah shook her head. ‘She’s saying she can’t be seen with her ripped shirt. She says if they find out she’s a girl, the religious police will torture her, and force her to marry a soldier.’

Bruce gawped. ‘How old are you? Who looks after you?’

Tovah looked emotional as she pointed towards the back of the garage. ‘She’s twelve. Her older brother looks out for her, but I think we just killed him.’