New Guard (CHERUB) (5 page)

‘Eight,’ James chanted, as he slid an arm around Kerry’s back.

‘Seven, six,’ as Rat did the same to Lauren.

Ryan held hands with Ning and gave her a smile on five.

‘Four, three,’ Kyle shouted, as he remembered the day he arrived in the main building at nine years old. Scared out of his wits.

‘Two,’ everyone yelled, as floodlights illuminated the glassless hulk of the main building.

‘One.’

Mason, Freddie and Sophia pressed their buttons on the detonator panel. The first of five sharp cracks erupted, starting at the bottom and working their way up seven floors. For a half-second it seemed as if something had gone wrong, but a low rumble began to build and everyone screamed and cheered as the front façade collapsed, followed by the floors behind, with the side walls coming in last.

‘Holy crap!’ James shouted, as the roar became deafening and a billowing cloud of dust erupted in all directions.

As the ground rumbled, banks of powerful hoses began misting the perimeter where the main building had stood, to help keep the dust under control. But even with water and nets in place, the crowd tasted grit in the air as the last defiant strut buckled. Then stunned silence became a cheer of relief, accompanied by a wailing
all clear
siren.

¹
     See the
Henderson’s Boys
series for more information on how CHERUB began. week at the vehicle shop here on campus.’

Four days later

James eyed himself in the mirror. He pulled up the tatty white CHERUB T-shirt he was wearing and clenched his stomach muscles, struggling to make any kind of six-pack. He needed to eat less and exercise more, and decided to start by just having coffee for breakfast.

Since he was a fairly junior staff member, James’ first-floor apartment wasn’t huge and didn’t have the luxury of a view over campus. But on the other hand, it was modern and rent free, comprising a bedroom, shower room, walk-in wardrobe and a combined kitchen and lounge. He’d added a few personal touches, including a large photo of his late mother, and black and white photos of retired Arsenal players.

After popping a pod into his Nespresso machine, James pulled a shirt up his arms, then sat at his glass dining-table and flipped up the lid of his laptop. There were fifteen e-mails since he’d finished work the previous night, but before he got to any of them he noticed his mobile was vibrating and saw
John Jones
on caller display.

‘John,’ James said, faking enthusiasm. It felt like he spent half his waking hours with his boss’ voice in his ear.

‘You’re not in your office,’ John noted.

James scowled. ‘I didn’t finish work until gone ten last night.’

John laughed. ‘I’m not having a go, pal. I appreciate how hard you’ve been working these past couple of months with so many other controllers away on missions. You’ll be going up a couple of notches when the pay review comes around in Feb.’

‘Really?’ James said, smiling at the prospect of extra cash.

‘Gotta keep pace with that banker-bonus girlfriend of yours,’ John joked. ‘Anyhow, I’ve been nagging various people and Birmingham is good to go.’

‘Seriously?’ James grinned, relishing an escape from campus bureaucracy to head off on a mission.

‘I’m just about to send through an e-mail with all of the details of the agreement.’

As soon as John hung up, James pocketed phone and keys and charged for the exit. He was halfway out the door when he had a realisation. After opening a shoe cupboard just inside the door, he pulled off the shoes he usually wore in his office and grabbed a trashed pair of combat boots, clad in dry mud.

Rather than leave mud flakes down the hallway and stairs, he kept the boots hooked over his fingers until he was out through the revolving door of the staff building. It was a school day, so the paved walkway through Campus Village’s low-rise accommodation was deserted, apart from a cleaner picking up litter and leaves with an electric handcart.

The dining-hall was mostly empty. A circle of gossiping red-shirt carers, taking breakfast now that lessons had started, and kids who didn’t have school because they were either preparing for or recovering from missions.

James grabbed bottles of orange, sandwiches and two packaged slices of carrot cake, and got a dirty look from one of the catering staff because he hadn’t quite walked all the dry mud off his boots.

James found an electric cart and rode it across campus. He had to take a circuitous route, because a large area was cordoned off where army bulldozer crews were working to clear the rubble of the main building.

The cart was only designed for tarmac or damp grass, so James had to abandon his ride when he got to a wooded area near the back of campus. It had been a wet autumn and he was glad he’d picked the boots as he walked the last five hundred metres, down a path regularly churned by kids on training runs.

After using his fingerprint to enter the gates of the training compound, James found Leon and Daniel Sharma, stood to attention in a muddy clearing, dressed in combat boots and filthy CHERUB uniform. The drill instructor had planted a remote camera in the mud, so that he’d know if they moved.

‘You look bloody terrible,’ James said, as he noticed the boys’ red eyes and mud-caked hair.

They didn’t answer and instead looked anxiously at the camera sticking out of the mud.

‘Did Capstick say why you’ve been made to wait here?’ James asked.

‘Nope,’ Leon said.

James rustled a plastic bag and pulled out a sandwich. ‘Hungry?’

The twins’ eyes lit up, but instructors had been tricking and bullying the pair for a week, so they didn’t take anything at face value. James flung the bag at Daniel, who ripped out a chicken and bacon sandwich. Leon seemed slightly miffed that the other sandwich was cheese and pickle, but still inhaled it in a few bites, despite muddy fingers.

‘Thank you,’ Leon said, as he guzzled his orange juice. ‘
So
good.’

‘Safe to say you’re keen to get out of here?’ James noted.

‘Yes, sir,’ the twins agreed.

‘Call me James. Fortunately for you guys, I was about to offer you a mission when you decided to go vigilante on Britain’s paedo population. It’s taken a hell of a lot of arm twisting, but we’ve reached agreement with Zara Asker. If you accept the mission I offer …’

‘We accept,’ Daniel blurted.

James smiled. ‘I haven’t told you what it is yet.’

‘Anything’s better than this,’ Leon added. ‘Drugs, terrorists, bring ’em on!’

‘The bad news is that you’re not off the hook,’ James explained. ‘Your punishments will be suspended, and your sixty days’ heavy drill will be reduced by one day for every two that you serve on the mission.’

‘How long is the mission?’

‘Two weeks,’ James said. ‘Three if you’re lucky.’

‘Any chance it could spiral?’ Leon asked.

‘A hundred and four days would suit us best,’ Daniel added. ‘Wipe out the rest of our heavy drill.’

James smirked as the twins made simultaneous starts on their carrot cake. ‘I’ll need the pair of you in my office at noon. So get back to your rooms and scrub up.’

‘Sorry,’ James said, running into his office holding a red plastic pouch. ‘It’s chaos around here. You’re not the only ones who can’t wait to get off campus.’

Leon and Daniel stood in front of James’ desk. The pair now wore neatly pressed CHERUB uniform, comprising lightweight black boots, combat trousers and navy CHERUB logo T-shirts. Their hair was damp from a shampooing and there was a powerful aroma of Axe body spray.

‘Sit,’ James said, pointing to a couple of chairs that needed to be dragged across. ‘What is it about teenage boys and body spray? You just need a
tiny
amount. You’ve made my office smell like a Thai brothel.’

‘Sorry,’ Daniel said.

But Leon grinned. ‘Do you have much experience with Thai brothels?’

James raised one eyebrow, as he pulled two ruggedised Android tablets out of the red pouch and handed them across. ‘If you want to go back to heavy drill, be my guest.’

As the boys leaned over to grab identical tablets, James noticed that the quick scrub up hadn’t extended as far as the twins getting all the mud out from under their nails, and Leon’s right ear seemed to have a leaf stuck in it.

‘I’m assuming you’ve both seen one of these before,’ James said. ‘Each unit has a mission briefing and a bunch of background files. You can access the tablets using your agent number and thumbprint. Once you accept the mission, the data will be transferred into your personal data cloud and be accessible using the secure area of your smartphones.’

‘What happened to paper briefings?’ Leon asked.

‘Too much risk of being carried off site,’ James explained. ‘All agent phones and laptops are set up to be remotely wiped if they’re lost or stolen. I have to go man the control room while the duty controller takes his twenty-minute break. So, you guys stay here, read this through and I’ll answer any questions when you get back.’

James charged out, then back again briefly to grab his phone off the desk as the twins started to read.

**CLASSIFIED**

MISSION BRIEFING:

FOR LEON SHARMA AND DANIEL SHARMA

DO NOT PRINT, COPY, OR MAKE NOTES

This mission has been given a dual classification, as an opportunity to recruit a CHERUB agent and to potentially gain insight into possible extremist activity in the Sandy Green area of Birmingham.

Located 2km from the centre of Birmingham, Sandy Green is one of the most deprived areas of the UK. Over half of all children live in poverty and youth unemployment runs at more than 50 per cent. 70 per cent of the population is non-white,
with Muslims forming the largest ethnic group.

While the vast majority of Muslims in Sandy Green have no sympathy for or connection to radical Islamic groups, the combination of poverty and unemployment means that the intelligence service regards Sandy Green as an area where there is a high probability of disaffected youths becoming involved with radical Islamic groups like Al Qaeda and Islamic State.

Oliver Lakshmi was born in 2004 and recently turned twelve. He is the son of an unknown restaurant worker, who is believed to have returned to India, and a mother who died following a drug-related stabbing in 2007. Since this time, Oliver has lived in a number of care homes and foster placements.

Oliver has been assessed with an IQ of 150, which places him in the cleverest one per cent of the population. Despite his intelligence, Oliver has been bored and disruptive at school, frequently bunking off. He has been involved in a number of serious incidents, including assaulting another boy at a care home and seriously injuring a teacher with clay modelling tools during an art lesson.

He has been in a number of fights and after being expelled from two secondary schools in Year Seven, he recently started Year Eight and now attends a Fresh Start programme designed to help disruptive pupils before eventually reintegrating them into normal classes.

Oliver has difficulty making friends with people his own age, and often describes them as dumb. He seeks out older kids for companionship, who he tries to impress with elaborate lies and various forms of bad behaviour, including theft from shops and breaking into cars.

In April 2016, Oliver and two older boys burgled a flat in the Longsight area of Birmingham. During the burglary, a man returned home from work and confronted the boys. All three boys got away, but not before one of the older boys was grabbed and severely beaten by the householder.

Two nights later, Oliver and the boy who’d been beaten sought revenge. The pair poured petrol through the flat’s letterbox and set it alight. The householder was out working a night shift, but his wife was badly burned while rescuing two small children, and the family dog died. The flat was gutted, and there was serious fire and water damage to four other homes before the blaze was controlled. Property damage was estimated at £350,000.

Scared of a lengthy spell locked up in a young offender institution with much older boys, Oliver told local police that he would give them information about a radical Islamic group operating in the Sandy Green area in return for being let off the arson charges.

The investigating officers had previously arrested Oliver for a number of minor crimes and picked him up when truanting from school. Knowing that Oliver was smart and had a tendency to invent elaborate lies, the officers logged his offer and followed procedure by forwarding it to MI5. However, nobody took the eleven-year-old’s claim seriously.

Oliver’s fourteen-year-old accomplice received a four-year sentence for the arson attack. Since Oliver was barely old enough to face criminal charges, he was sent for a detailed psychiatric evaluation, after which he was ordered to stay at a secure confinement facility. This would enable him to stay in his local area and carry on going to school, but ensure that he was closely monitored and subject to a strict curfew outside of school hours.

After four months of relatively good behaviour, Oliver has recently had his curfew and most other secure confinement conditions suspended.

In July 2016, police arrested fifteen- and seventeen-year-old brothers in the Sandy Green area, acting on intelligence from MI5. The boys were linked to a series of armed petrol station robberies, the money from which was donated to a radical Islamic group.

When the teenagers’ bedrooms were searched, evidence was found that the boys had begun saving up to run away to North Africa and receive military training from a radical Islamic terror group. The boys are currently being held in custody, awaiting trial for the robberies.