Skyfire

by Michael Adams

  ‘Hang on!’ Dylan said, looking at Andy over the rims of his glasses. ‘Did you say we? As in you and me, “we”?’

  Andy nodded excitedly.

  Dylan frowned. While it was cool that Scoop stories had put criminals behind bars, he shuddered to think what would happen if Andy ever got caught by the bad guys. ‘You sure this Ethan guy really needs your—our—help?’

  ‘Yeah, but wait ‘til you hear what he has to say.’ Sensing his friend’s nerves, Andy flashed a reassuring grin. ‘Don’t worry, dude, it’s not gonna be dangerous.’

  Dylan laughed. ‘Famous last words. OK, what do we have to do?’

  The AutoTaxi pulled up outside the bungalow Andy shared with his father, a few blocks from Santa Monica beach.

  ‘I’ll get us some drinks,’ Andy said as he went into the kitchen. ‘Take a seat.’

  That was easier said than done in the cluttered lounge room. Dylan cleared some books to make space on the couch. While he waited, he took the opportunity to look around. Shelves were piled high with crime thrillers. The coffee table was strewn with police journals. Framed pictures lined the mantelpiece, most featuring a smiling woman Dylan guessed was Andy’s mum.

  ‘Here we go,’ Andy said, handing his guest an ice-cold cola before he sat cross-legged on the carpet. ‘Play Ethan, log.’ A wall screen lit up. ‘I always record my interviews,’ Andy explained. ‘It’s something I learned from my mum.’

  ‘Uh, OK,’ said Ethan in the video. ‘Where do I start?’

  He looked only a bit older than Andy and Dylan, with curly red hair. Squinting through thick glasses he shuffled in the very seat Dylan was now in as he sipped a cola nervously. Dylan looked at the table next to him and, sure enough, an empty bottle stood next to his full one.

  ‘Just start at the beginning,’ Andy said off-camera. ‘Relax, this will be OK.’

  Ethan nodded, reassured. ‘So I got this email with a video file,’ he said. ‘I didn’t recognise the address, but it looked like it might be from my school. When I played the video, I saw a computer screen with an official-looking page from the California Department of Education, and my junior school grades were being changed from As and Bs to Fs and then back again. Then they were redone and undone again. I think it was to show me how easy it’d be,’ Ethan said, voice cracking. ‘And at the end, this digitised voice said my grades would be ruined forever unless I delivered one thousand dollars in a plain envelope to Griffith Observatory tonight. I’m supposed to hide it in a couch and then clear out. And they said if I told my parents or called the cops, there’d be “consequences”.’ Ethan’s voice became high-pitched. ‘My future could be trashed. My folks worked their butts off to give me a good education. It’ll all be for nothing if I can’t graduate with high marks and get into university.’ Ethan broke down into sobs.

  ‘Did he show you the email?’ Dylan asked Andy when the recording ended.

  ‘He said it wiped itself as soon as he’d read it,’ Andy said.

  Dylan let out a low whistle. ‘Mate, those are some pretty sophisticated bullies,’ he observed. ‘Even if Ethan pays them off now, who’s to stop them asking for more money later?’

  ‘Or doing the same thing to other kids,’ added Andy. ‘That’s why we’re going to stop them by exposing their scam on Scoop.’

  Dylan got to his feet and paced. ‘But how? How are we going to get that sort of cash by tonight?’

  ‘One step ahead of you,’ Andy said. ‘I’ve already got it.’

  Dylan looked at Andy with wide eyes.

  ‘Ethan handed it over when he stopped blubbering,’ said Andy. ‘He said he’d been working after school, and had emptied his savings account to pay these guys off. We marked it with lemon juice so it can be traced.’

  Dylan nodded, impressed. ‘Can I see it?’

  ‘Sorry, bro, Ethan insisted on sealing the envelope before he left,’ Andy said. ‘For a guy who wanted my help, he was a bit untrusting! But it was all of his money so I guess I get where he was coming from. I’ve got it here, ready to go.’ Andy held up a yellow envelope.

  ‘OK, so now what?’ Dylan asked, nervous and excited.

  ‘Now,’ Andy said, ‘we’ve got just enough time to get ourselves to Griffith Observatory and set the trap!’

  ‘Hey!’ Yasmin cried again.

  One of the cops hung the ‘Closed’ sign in the front window as Mahmoud’s attacker grinned at Yasmin.

  ‘Let him go!’ she demanded.

  ‘As you wish,’ the man who seemed to be the leader replied, releasing her brother so he fell to the floor with a thump. He took a step towards Yasmin.

  ‘Wh-wh-who are you?’ she stammered.

  ‘I’m a detective,’ he said, flashing a badge from inside his suit jacket. ‘These are my men. Do what I say and everything will be all right.’

  The sick feeling in Yasmin’s stomach screamed that he was lying about the second bit. Her instincts told her to tread carefully. ‘What’s your name?’

  The detective leered at her with a horrible smile. He had stained teeth and his breath stank of cigarette smoke. He glanced at a statue of the dog-headed god, Anubis, standing beside him. ‘You can call me Jackal.’

  ‘Wh-wh-what do you want?’ Yasmin said, fighting to swallow her fear.

  Jackal looked up at the ceiling’s LiveFotos.

  ‘Well, as pretty as I am,’ he said, ‘I’m not here so you can take my picture. You need to come with me.’

  ‘Why?’ Yasmin asked.

  Jackal’s barking laugh was as unpleasant as steel chair legs scraped across a concrete floor. ‘Why? Because I say so.’ He turned and nodded to one of his men.

  There was an almighty crash as an officer tipped a shelf of porcelain Sphinxes into a glass display case of jewellery.

  Yasmin gasped and Mahmoud jumped to his feet.

  ‘Now look what you made us do,’ Jackal sneered.

  ‘Hey, you can’t do tha—’ Mahmoud shouted.

  One of the cops silenced him with a punch to the stomach. Yasmin’s brother let out a gasping oomph as he doubled over in pain.

  ‘Don’t hurt him!’ Yasmin yelled.

  Their parents had always told them that if there was a robbery they should give the criminals whatever they asked for and wait until they were gone before calling the police. They never said what to do if the criminals were the police.

  ‘The cash register’s right there,’ Yasmin said desperately. ‘Just take the money and go, please.’

  ‘I’m not here for a few thousand pounds,’ Jackal scoffed. ‘I’m here for you, “DARE Award winner” Yasmin Adib. I know how much you’re worth.’

  Yasmin reeled. Her head spun. She felt like she might throw up. This was crazy! She didn’t receive her million dollars until she’d spent her week with Felix and the other DARE winners aboard the Infinite Horizon. She had to convince Jackal he’d made a mistake.

  ‘I don’t have the money yet,’ she said. ‘If you don’t believe me, check any news article about the awards.’

  Jackal lifted his mirrored sunglasses and stared at her with eyes so black and cold they might have belonged to a shark. ‘I know that,’ he spat. ‘But I also know how much you’re worth to Felix Scott. How much would he pay to make sure one of his precious little winners doesn’t get hurt? So you’re going to come with me and—’

  ‘She’s not going anywhere with you!’

  Jackal’s eyes widened as Radha came into the shop from the hallway. Yasmin had to blink to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Her grandmother had a little silver pistol aimed at the detective’s chest.

  ‘Don’t shoot!’ Jackal begged, lip trembling theatrically. ‘Please!’ A grin spread across his face as he raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Please, old woman, don’t shoot me with that … toy.’

  Jackal’s henchmen burst out laughing. Radha cackled right along with them.

  Bang!

  Towering on a cliff edge in the Santa Monica Mountains, the Griffith Observator
y was crowned by three huge bronze domes, each housing a massive telescope which pointed at the night sky.

  Andy and Dylan stopped to catch their breath after rushing into the building, where the crowds were thinning as closing time drew near.

  ‘Phew, we made it,’ said Andy.

  ‘Yes!’ Dylan’s loud response earned him a stormy look from a guard in the foyer.

  ‘The observatory closes in ten minutes,’ the uniformed man barked. ‘Got that, you two?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Andy said respectfully. He turned to Dylan, whispering. ‘Chill, OK? These are stake-out conditions. We don’t want any more unwanted attention from our friends in security … or any bad guys.’

  Maintaining a casual air, Andy waited for the guard to turn his attention elsewhere. Then they crossed to the leather visitor’s couch, right where Ethan had said it would be. Andy slid the yellow envelope from his jacket and tucked it between the cushions. Drifting away, hearts hammering, the boys pretended to be engrossed in the swinging pendulums and sparks of lightning shooting from the Tesla coil. But their eyes were actually focused on their InfiniFones, which they’d folded into neat squares in their hands. Each screen streamed footage of the view behind them from tiny FoneDrone cameras docked on the brims of the baseball caps they wore backwards.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ Dylan said in a shaky voice. ‘Aren’t you nervous?’

  Andy held up his free hand. It trembled ever so slightly. ‘I love the adrenalin rush,’ he said.

  ‘And your dad doesn’t mind?’ Dylan asked. ‘That is awesome. If my parents knew I was doing this, they’d chuck a wobbly.’

  He smiled at Andy’s confused expression. ‘“Chuck a wobbly”,’ he said, ‘means “freak out”.’

  Andy grabbed his arm and nodded at the observatory entrance. Two men had just walked in. Both wore black leather jackets and blue jeans. One guy was bald and chubby, the other man had a bushy beard and long skinny legs. The security guard approached them. ‘Sorry, gentlemen, we’re closing up in five minutes.’

  ‘We won’t need that long,’ said Bald Guy as he and Beard Dude brushed straight past.

  ‘Those guys don’t look like they’re here for a science lesson. It’s got to be them,’ whispered Dylan.

  Andy gave a little nod. Bald Guy and Beard Dude were walking straight for the couch!

  Dylan saw that these were two very confident bad guys. They didn’t seem at all afraid of getting caught. Instead, Bald Guy stood by the couch while Beard Dude openly ran his hands down between the cushions.

  ‘Score!’ he said, pulling out the envelope.

  Bald Guy grinned. ‘Let me see.’

  They huddled together. There was a flash of green when Beard Dude opened the envelope. ‘Yep,’ he said, tucking it into his jacket. ‘This is almost too easy.’

  ‘Five down, two more to go,’ Bald Guy said. ‘So, where to next?’

  Beard Dude whipped out a phone and tapped at its screen. ‘Got it!’ he said, grinning. ‘Looks like we’re heading to the dead centre of town.’

  Bald Guy looked puzzled.

  ‘Come on,’ said Beard Dude. ‘You’ll see.’

  With that, the men hustled to the exit and were gone.

  Andy whirled. ‘Five down and two to go? This is bigger than just Ethan.’

  Dylan nodded, eyes wide behind his glasses. ‘Mate, they must be ripping off heaps of kids!’

  ‘I think I know where they’re heading,’ Andy said. ‘Let’s go!’

  Yasmin’s heart thumped as the statue by Jackal’s ear exploded and sprayed him with plaster fragments. The shot echoed through the store. Gun smoke drifted to the ceiling. Jackal’s mouth fell open in shock. He touched his fingers to his cheek. They came away bloody. He’d been cut by a flying shard.

  ‘Next bullet goes between your eyes,’ Radha said, her voice eerily calm. ‘Yasmin, Mahmoud, get behind me.’

  They scrambled to do what she said.

  Jackal snarled. ‘I’m going to—’

  ‘Leave!’ Radha shouted determinedly. ‘You’re going to leave and not come back.’

  Jackal and his henchmen traded looks. Radha’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Five more bullets left,’ she said, the pistol tight in her steady old hand. ‘That’s one for each of you.’

  The detective’s eyes flickered. He started reaching inside his jacket. Around the shop, the cops were going for their holstered pistols.

  ‘Grandmother!’ Yasmin hissed.

  ‘I see them!’ Radha retorted. Her eyes never left Jackal. ‘You and your heroes are going to shoot an old woman and two kids?’ she said mockingly. ‘In a family store? Even a dog like you won’t get away with that.’

  Doubt clouded Jackal’s expression.

  Radha stepped forward, pistol aimed steadily, grandchildren gathered behind her. ‘Get out of here, you son of a shoe,’ she said, using her worst insult.

  Jackal and Radha locked eyes for a long moment. Yasmin could barely breathe with the tension in the air.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Jackal said finally to his gang of crooked cops, moving slowly away, eyes still on Radha.

  The men backed towards the shop’s door and slipped out onto the street.

  Jackal hovered at the entrance, glaring at Yasmin, Radha and Mahmoud. ‘This isn’t over.’

  ‘Turn the sign to “Open” on your way out,’ Radha said. She waved the gun and Jackal obeyed, flicking the sign over so violently it banged against the glass.

  ‘I’ll see you soon, Yasmin,’ he said, before disappearing into the bustle outside.

  The boys crouched beside a side entrance to Hollywood Forever Cemetery. They’d taken an AutoTaxi from the observatory and arrived at Los Angeles’ most famous celebrity graveyard just in time to see Bald Guy and Beard Dude slip through the service gate that someone must have left unlocked for them.

  ‘Dude, this place creeps me out,’ Andy admitted under his breath.

  Dylan shook his head. ‘Staking out the observatory is one thing, but creeping into a graveyard at night?’

  ‘If this is the way we get the scoop then it’s what we have to do,’ replied Andy, trying to sound brave. ‘Come on.’

  Dylan inhaled deeply and followed his friend through the side gate.

  They walked carefully, slow and quiet, as they prowled the rows of graves, scanning the gloom for a sign of Bald Guy and Beard Dude. Rustling noises seemed to chase them between the tombstones and they stopped every few steps to check they weren’t being followed.

  An unearthly cry pierced the gloom.

  ‘What’s that?’ hissed Dylan. It sounded not of this world, like some supernatural creature.

  Ahead of them, a bush rustled. The boys tensed.

  A peacock strutted into the moonlight.

  ‘It’s just a bird,’ said Andy, voice quaking. ‘Don’t be such a scaredy—’

  He jumped back, almost knocking Dylan into a monument to Toto from The Wizard of Oz.

  ‘What?’ Dylan hissed.

  ‘That statue,’ Andy said, pointing ahead with a shaking hand at a sculpture of a dead rock star. ‘I thought it moved!’

  ‘Just a trick of the shadows and the moon,’ Dylan reassured them both. ‘We need to chill.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Andy said. ‘It’s not like vampires or werewolves are real.’

  ‘Vampires, werewolves—you had to say that?’ Dylan replied with a gulp.

  ‘Let’s just worry about the human bad guys,’ Andy whispered, eyes flitting around the headstones and crypts, ‘who could be anywhere … lying in wait.’

  ‘Not helping, mate,’ Dylan said in a small voice.

  ‘Come on,’ Andy urged. ‘We gotta do this.’

  The boys crept forward again. Shadows played over marble monuments and in the eerie stillness even the soft crunches of their footsteps seemed to echo around the graveyard.

  A laugh—definitely human—made both boys duck. Heart pounding, Andy peeked around a headstone.

 
; ‘Is it them?’ murmured Dylan.

  Andy nodded and crouched tighter, Dylan huddled close beside him. They glanced cautiously around the dusty granite grave marker. Bald Guy and Beard Dude were mucking around at the base of a tombstone topped by a massive marble angel. Beardie posed in the same prayerful position as the statue, while Baldie snapped a photo. Both laughed as they checked the result on the screen.

  ‘These guys are hardcore,’ muttered Andy. ‘They don’t seem freaked out by the cemetery at all.’

  Andy snuck forward, hoping to get into a better position so he could film them on his InfiniFone.

  Before he could line up the shot, Bald Guy turned and seemed to look right at them! ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Quit goofing off. I thought I heard something.’

  Beard Dude looked around as the boys tried to melt into the shadows at the base of the headstone.

  ‘Nah,’ the crim said after a minute. ‘You’re imagining things. There’s no-one here. But let’s get on with it. I don’t fancy being busted in here.’

  As Andy and Dylan peered around from their hiding spot, the men checked the vases of a few graves.

  ‘Aha!’ Beard Dude said, standing up with an envelope.

  His partner moved in. They checked the contents, the boys seeing something green in the low light, and traded fist bumps.

  Suddenly, the men were cutting across the rows of stone markers.

  ‘They’re headed our way,’ hissed Dylan. ‘Hide!’

  But as he scurried to take cover, his shoulder nudged a pedestal holding the plaster bust of a famous actor. Time seemed to slow as it teetered and then …

  Ker-rrash!

  Wide-eyed, Dylan looked from the shattered statue to Andy’s horrified face. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.

  But it was too late.

  ‘There is someone here!’ Beard Dude said. ‘They just smashed something over there!’

  The boys looked at each other in panic. Footsteps crunched across the pebble path.

  ‘Go?’ whispered Dylan.

  Andy nodded.

  Together, they sprang up.

  ‘Hey!’ Beard Dude shouted. ‘What’re you doing?’