‘You know the route?’ Boris barked.
As Vlad settled in the driving seat and the other kids started boarding the bus, Boris took Ethan by his upper arm and gave him a yank.
‘Your uncle wants to see you at the stable.’
Ethan had assumed Leonid would want to see him in his sixth-floor office. Trekking out to the Aramovs’ stables made matters more sinister. The only positive thing was that it seemed unlikely that his uncle would try anything underhand after it had been announced that he wanted to see him at the stables in front of a dozen witnesses.
The stables were a kilometre’s walk across rocky ground.
‘You know why your dad wants to see me?’ Ethan asked, as he struggled to keep pace with his much larger cousin.
‘Just shut your face and do what you’re told,’ Boris snapped back.
There was a steep downwards slope on the final approach to the stables. The ground was slippery and when Ethan hesitated, Boris gave him an almighty shove accompanied by an enthusiastic shout of, ‘DOOSH!’
Ethan crashed forward, sprawling out and smashing his elbow on a wooden post. Boris closed in and threw a kick, but as Ethan flinched Boris pulled the blow.
‘How can a skinny tit like you be related to me?’ Boris shouted, getting his head right in Ethan’s face as he yanked him to his feet. ‘I’ve plucked chickens that are tougher than you.’
Ethan shuddered as his cousin walked close behind him. The stable block was in an L-shape, running along two sides of a muddy paddock. Most of the horses kept here were used by Aramov security men who patrolled the surrounding hillsides looking for thieves, spies and covert surveillance devices.
Leonid Aramov’s stable office had a big stone fireplace and hunting trophies mounted on the wall behind his desk. He wasn’t as pumped as his two sons, but Leonid’s eyes were mean little slits and he fitted the Russian gangster stereotype nicely with a tight leather jacket and three days’ stubble.
‘My little nephew,’ Leonid said. ‘How are you settling in?’
‘I’m getting by,’ Ethan said, feeling uncomfortable with Boris towering behind and the thought that the man at the desk had almost certainly ordered his mother’s death.
Leonid went into his desk drawer. He pulled out a small stack of papers and beckoned Ethan closer.
‘SatCom Internet bill,’ Leonid explained, waggling papers in the air as Boris shoved Ethan closer to the desk. ‘Our bill has been four or five hundred US dollars a month since forever. But you arrive and suddenly, we get bills for sixteen hundred, eighteen hundred dollars.’
Ethan pretended to be mystified. ‘I don’t have a computer. I’m not even allowed to use the Internet.’
‘Cut the shit,’ Leonid boomed, as he made an angry stab with his pointing finger. ‘Only family can get on the sixth floor and use computers on the satellite link.’
‘There’s loads of staff on our floor,’ Ethan said.
‘Whoever it is uses a proxy and wipes their history every time they log off, so we can’t tell what they’ve been looking at,’ Leonid said. ‘Do you think your grandma’s nurse could manage that? Or that one of the other staff would suddenly start doing it as a kid who happens to know an awful lot about computers arrives on our floor?’
Boris growled in Ethan’s ear. ‘Confess or I’ll pulp you.’
‘OK, I admit it,’ Ethan said. ‘My mum left me money. So what if I surfed a few sites? I’ll pay for your satellite bandwidth.’
Leonid rose up from his desk and thumped the table. ‘I don’t like that smart mouth. You were told not to communicate with anyone from your past life. The CIA and FBI will be monitoring all your online accounts. The clan still has major business interests in the United States and after your mother’s death and your disappearance the authorities there are over us like a rash. You start spouting your mouth off about something you shouldn’t and you could screw that up.’
‘You think I’m an idiot?’ Ethan snapped back. ‘I’m not a baby. You think I didn’t keep secrets when I lived with my mum in California?’
Ethan heard an almighty crack as Boris smacked him around the back of the head. ‘You dare talk back to my father?’
As Ethan stumbled, Leonid walked around the desk to face him off.
‘There’s a natural order to things,’ Leonid explained. ‘I’m at the top, you’re at the bottom. If I can’t trust you when you’re living two rooms away, I sure can’t trust you to keep your trap shut when you’re off at some poncy school in Dubai.’
To drive the argument home Leonid twisted Ethan’s ear.
‘You can’t stop me from going to boarding school,’ Ethan said, his voice getting higher as his uncle cranked up the pain. ‘You’re not the boss of the clan. It’s up to Irena.’
‘I ought to smash your fingers for this defiance,’ Leonid shouted. ‘You’d better learn to respect me, because your grandma won’t be around for much longer, and then . . .’
‘Then what?’ Ethan shouted, as Leonid tailed off. ‘Maybe I’ll get murdered, like my mom did?’
Leonid laughed and snapped his fingers. ‘If I wanted you killed, I could kill you like that.’
‘If that was true I doubt I’d be standing here,’ Ethan scoffed. ‘Irena has eyes and ears all over the Kremlin. You might act like the big man, but you can’t take a shit without your mommy knowing all about it.’
Leonid cracked a knuckle, then laughed incredulously. ‘What makes you so sure that I killed your mother?’
Ethan shrugged. ‘It would make a lot of sense.’
‘You have no idea what you’re talking about and you’d best be careful who you go spouting your theories to,’ Leonid said. ‘Besides, I’m not here to debate with a child. Just stay away from the computers or there will be deep trouble.’
Ethan shook his head contemptuously as he turned towards the office door. This insolence popped Leonid’s fuse and within seconds Ethan found himself face down against the desktop, with Leonid’s thumb jammed painfully between his shoulder blades.
Leonid looked at Boris as Ethan squirmed. ‘Get the cosh.’
‘Piss off,’ Ethan spat.
Ethan couldn’t look around far enough to see Boris taking a half-metre-long rubber cosh out of a filing cabinet, but he felt Leonid ripping his jeans and boxers down to his knees in a single violent stroke.
‘Noooo!’ Ethan moaned, as Leonid enthusiastically swung the cosh against his bare arse.
The pain was extraordinary and the humiliation compounded by Boris howling with laughter and pulling an Android phone out of a pocket.
‘Say cheese!’ Boris whooped, as he snapped a picture. ‘I wonder what Natalka will say when she sees this.’
Fortunately Leonid only gave his nephew three strokes before turning Ethan on to his back and eyeballing him.
‘Mouth shut, fingers off computers,’ Leonid ordered. ‘And no school for the rest of this month. You can come out here to the stables and shovel horse shit.’
‘I’ll tell Irena,’ Ethan said. ‘She’s my guardian, not you.’
‘You don’t know my mother so well,’ Leonid laughed. ‘Go right ahead. Tell her you’ve been using her computer when she ordered you not to, but don’t be surprised if one of her security guards gives you a lot worse than three strokes on the arse.’
Ethan wasn’t sure if Leonid was bluffing as he meekly pulled his trousers back over his stinging arse, but he’d heard that Irena could be ruthless with family members who pissed her off and he’d already pushed Leonid as far as he dared.
Leonid smiled. ‘Right, Boris, go introduce our little California girl to the stable hands. And tell ’em that if I catch Ethan slacking, I’ll blame them and dock them half a day’s pay.’
8. RYAN
CHERUB campus always looked immaculate, not least because there were plenty of kids on punishment duty sweeping paths, pulling weeds and mowing several hundred acres of lawn. On this sunny March day it looked especially picturesque because the su
n had come out and the Japanese cherry trees lining the central path from the education block to the training compound were in full blossom.
‘Spring pisses me off,’ Amy Collins said, rubbing her nose before exploding into a sneezing fit. ‘Stupid pollen.’
The stunning twenty-four-year-old was strolling alongside Ryan Sharma. She was a former CHERUB agent who now worked for TFU (Transnational Facilitator Unit), a branch of the American intelligence service that was targeting the Aramov Clan. She’d also played the role of Ryan’s older sister on his mission in California.
‘So you were chatting on MSN with Ethan last night?’ Amy asked.
Ryan nodded. ‘I’ve uploaded a hijack program and some other hacking tools to an FTP site.’
‘Will Ethan have the guts to install it?’
Ryan shrugged. ‘Fifty-fifty, I’d guess. He asked about you. Or more specifically, I told him I’d hacked my sister’s computer and he asked if I’d found any naked pictures of you.’
‘Dirty boy,’ Amy laughed. ‘It’ll be a pity if he does get sent to school in Dubai. There’s a much better chance that he’ll feed us accurate information while he’s inside the Kremlin.’
Ryan nodded thoughtfully. ‘Can you stop him getting admitted to a school in Dubai?’
‘There are ways of manipulating things so that a kid gets put in a certain class, or doesn’t get into one particular school, but even if we could get Ethan locked out of every English language boarding school in the Middle East it would seem highly suspicious.’
‘I don’t mind really,’ Ryan said. ‘After all Ethan’s been through in the last year the poor bastard deserves a break.’
‘And how about you?’ Amy asked. ‘Still feeling frustrated?’
‘A bit,’ Ryan confessed. ‘I know being Ethan’s virtual friend means I’m technically on a mission, but I’d really like to get stuck into something meatier.’
Amy nodded. ‘Kicking some arse off campus.’
‘Exactly,’ Ryan said. ‘Although they’ve sent me on a couple of one-day things which have been fun. I shouldn’t really tell you but this is hilarious. Last month me and Alfie got sent to this estate in Liverpool—’
‘No,’ Amy said firmly, raising her hands. ‘I don’t want to hear it, no matter how funny it is. There are good security reasons why agents shouldn’t talk about their missions.’
Ryan looked hurt.
‘You’re lucky I work for TFU. A CHERUB staff member would be dishing out punishment laps for breaching security.’
‘All right, sorry I spoke,’ Ryan said, then cheekily, ‘So have you got any naked pictures I can send Ethan to prove that the hacking program works?’
Before Amy could answer, the pair jumped out of their skins as a high-pitched shout of ‘Banzai!’ came from the branches above Ryan’s head.
The shouter leapt from a tree fork and clamped himself to Ryan’s back. Ryan staggered forwards, but his assailant was too little to knock him completely off balance.
‘Bloody hell, Theo!’ Ryan yelled, clutching his chest as his seven-year-old brother let go and hit the path with a gravelly crunch.
Theo had dressed up for the ambush, wearing a blue martial arts suit over his red CHERUB shirt and with the towelling belt from a bathrobe knotted around his head.
‘That was so cool!’ Theo giggled, as he pointed at Ryan. ‘I bet you’ve got skidmarks!’
Theo was a cute kid, with the same dark hair and olive complexion as Ryan, but Ryan had always been slim, whereas Theo was stockier.
Theo lunged playfully, going head first into Ryan’s belly.
‘Stop acting up,’ Ryan said. He always tried to sound parental, but Theo never took any notice.
A more effective technique was to lift Theo up, tickle him briefly under the ribcage and dump him on the verge of the path with a boot heel pinning him gently to the grass.
‘You big bully!’ Theo protested, only half serious. ‘You wait till I’m grown up.’
‘If I let you up, will you be sensible?’ Ryan asked.
‘Kiss my butt!’ Theo said.
Ryan wriggled two fingers, indicating that he was going to tickle Theo again.
‘OK, I’ll be good,’ Theo shrieked, as he curled up.
‘This is Amy,’ Ryan said, as he offered Theo a hand.
Theo spoke in an absurd robotic voice. ‘Hello Amy. It is very, very, nice to meet you.’
‘I see the family resemblance,’ Amy said.
‘I don’t look like him,’ Theo said, shaking his head. ‘I’m beautiful. He looks worse than he smells.’
‘Theo’s showing off because he thinks you’re cute,’ Ryan explained, as he put an arm around Theo’s neck and mock-strangled him.
‘Shut your face!’ Theo said. ‘You love Amy, not me!’
‘Why aren’t you in lessons, anyway?’ Ryan asked.
‘Going to meet Leon and Daniel coming out of training. Same as you, dumbo.’
Ryan laughed. ‘You can’t stand the twins.’
Theo smiled. ‘Gets me out of maths. And the twins are OK, except when they gang up on me.’
Amy laughed as they walked on, with Theo acting like a madman, launching himself into bushes and pretending to strangle himself with the towelling belt.
‘Your brother’s adorable,’ Amy said quietly.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. ‘In small doses. But see if you still feel that way after he’s been jumping on your bed for three hours.’
Theo sprinted the last hundred metres to the gates of the training compound, but the exertion was wasted because the instructors were keeping CHERUB’s three newest grey shirts back while they gave the training area a final scrub and tidied all their kit away ready for the next batch of trainees.
‘Fart heads!’ Theo shouted, when Leon and Daniel finally emerged from the training dorm and started walking towards the gate with Ning a few steps behind. The trio had all showered and dressed in neatly ironed combat trousers, with brand new boots to go with hard-earned grey T-shirts.
The trainees had been allowed to keep one ripped, stained and unwashed blue training shirt as a memento of their hundred days and Leon immediately draped his over Theo’s head. Theo thought this was funny and pretended he was blind as he hugged his two older brothers.
Ryan didn’t often feel proud of his brothers, but a tear welled up as the quartet hugged. He thought about how his dead mum would have liked to see them all mucking about together in the sunshine.
‘Can’t believe only three trainees made it and you dweebs are two of ’em,’ Ryan said.
Daniel eyed Theo as they broke apart. ‘Two and a bit years, Theo. You’d better be scared!’
‘I’m not scared of basic training,’ Theo replied.
A couple of metres away, Amy was hugging Ning and congratulating her, but Ning looked disappointed.
‘It got so that half the kids on campus were skiving off every time basic training finished,’ Ryan explained. ‘So now only relatives are allowed out of lessons. You’ll see Grace and Chloe and everyone at lunchtime.’
‘Cool,’ Ning said.
‘And now we get to do the fun bit,’ Ryan said, as he pulled three keys from his trouser pocket and gave them a jangle. ‘Time to check out your new bedrooms.’
*
‘Ethan, are you in there, mate?’
Usually Ethan liked nothing more than hearing Natalka’s voice on the other side of his door, but he hadn’t put any clothes over his burning arse after taking a shower and he didn’t have time to hide the fact he’d been crying.
‘I’m sick,’ Ethan answered weakly. ‘Probably contagious, so it’s better if you stay away.’
‘I saw Boris drag you off,’ Natalka said, as she put her head around the door. ‘What did Leonid do to you?’
Ethan sniffed. ‘Leave me alone.’
The lights were off, but there was enough twilight creeping through the barred windows for Natalka to glimpse pubes as Ethan hurriedly yanked his duvet over his m
idriff.
‘Why does it smell of horse shit in here?’ Natalka asked.
‘Go away,’ Ethan sniffed. ‘There’s nothing you can do.’
But Natalka ignored the plea and sat beside Ethan on the bed.
‘Did Leonid beat you?’ Natalka asked.
‘Massive rubber cosh on my arse,’ Ethan said. ‘I’ve got mega bruises, and I spent all day working at the stables. They’re giving me all the dirtiest jobs and I can’t go back to school until the end of the month.’
‘Sounds rough,’ Natalka said. ‘Why’s he pissed off with you?’
‘They found out I’ve been using the Internet.’
‘What, when we go to the web café in the bazaar?’
‘No, here. On Irena’s computer. I’m not supposed to go online in case the Americans are tracking me or something. And I might not be allowed to go off to school in Dubai now either.’
‘Shit!’ Natalka said. ‘Did you try speaking to Irena?’
‘Leonid got to her first. She’s really mad at me. I had to go to her room and she yelled at me. Said I was lucky to only get three whacks with the cosh and that it was time I acted like a man instead of a spoilt brat.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’ Natalka asked. ‘Bruise cream or something?’
‘I hate it so much here,’ Ethan said. ‘I might as well be dead.’
‘Now you do sound like a spoilt brat,’ Natalka said, her voice becoming firmer.
Ethan sobbed loudly. ‘Just go away.’
‘Make me,’ Natalka said.
Ethan scowled. ‘What? Now you’re gonna torment me like everyone else?’
Natalka grunted. ‘Jesus, Ethan! Your mum’s dead, your grandma’s dying and Leonid’s a bastard. You’ve every right to be pissed off, but you’ve got to fight it. I’ve got no sympathy if you curl up and sniffle.’
Ethan snorted. ‘If I step out of line again, Leonid and his boys will squish me like a bug.’
Natalka stood up. ‘I came up here to see if you were OK and maybe help you out. But I can’t help someone who’s given up, so I might as well go down to the bar. With any luck Vlad will try getting me drunk.’
Cherub: Guardian Angel: Book 14 Page 5
