New Guard (CHERUB)

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘Nice,’ Ryan said. ‘Motorbikes?’

  ‘I wish,’ James said. ‘Kerry does ride, but she’s not into bikes like I am.’

  ‘The way you ride, I’m not surprised,’ Ryan noted.

  James tutted. ‘So I found a company that hires out old cars and we’re gonna do it in a vintage Ford Mustang. Plus, Lauren’s season will have started, so we’re going to see a couple of her races along the way.’

  By this time they’d entered James’ office. Ning sat at James’ desk dealing with some admin and she cracked a big smile and jumped up to hug Ryan.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Ning gasped, surprised. ‘I’ve not seen you since Christmas.’

  ‘You’re always busy whenever I want to meet up in town,’ Ryan explained. ‘But I had to come back to campus today to pick up some new identity papers and consolidated exam certificates for my uni applications.’

  ‘And for this,’ James said, pulling an envelope out of his desk drawer. ‘It’s all on paper because I don’t want an electronic trail.’

  Ning looked curious as Ryan took the envelope. ‘Really appreciate this, James.’

  ‘You’d bloody better,’ James said. ‘I had to go into follow-up files from the Aramov mission. I could totally get my ass kicked off campus for doing this.’

  Now Ning was practically bursting. ‘What are you two up to?’

  James smirked. ‘Think Ning can keep a secret? The way I keep quiet about the twenty-four-year-old boyfriend she’s got stashed away in Thailand?’

  Ning covered her face with embarrassment. ‘James,’ she squirmed.

  ‘That’s still a thing?’ Ryan asked.

  ‘Bruce just set me up with a gap year in Thailand,’ Ning protested. ‘That’s all it is.’

  James shook his head. ‘Every time I walk into this office, she’s on Facebook Messenger with Bruce.’

  ‘Sod you!’ Ning said. ‘And you said yourself, Bruce is a really nice guy. Now stop changing the subject and tell me what’s in the envelope.’

  Ryan opened the envelope and showed Ning a picture of an eighteen-year-old girl.

  ‘Natalka,’ Ning gasped.

  Ryan had met Natalka on a mission in Kyrgyzstan four years earlier. He’d fallen in love, and wound up with a broken heart when he had to go back to campus.

  ‘There’s a bunch of stuff in the file,’ James said. ‘Natalka was released from reform school when she turned eighteen. I managed to find an address that’s about three months old and three possible mobile phone numbers. The latest information is an arrest for petty theft, on January 2nd, but she’s not due in court until March.’

  ‘I’ve never stopped thinking about Natalka,’ Ryan confessed to Ning. ‘I begged James to help me to find her.’

  Ning was aghast. She found it sweet and romantic that Ryan hadn’t forgotten about Natalka. And how cool was it that James was prepared to bend the rules to help Ryan find his true love? She couldn’t think of any other CHERUB staff member who’d do something like that. But she was also shocked, and that’s the side that came out.

  ‘You’re both bloody bananas,’ Ning blurted. ‘You’re not supposed to contact people you met on missions for all sorts of very good reasons. James, you’re the most highly regarded young mission controller on campus. John is retiring in three years and you could easily be his successor as senior mission controller.

  ‘And Ryan, you haven’t thought this through, have you? You were only fourteen. How much have you changed as a person since you last saw Natalka? And Russia’s a tough country—’

  Ryan interrupted. ‘I don’t care,’ he blurted. ‘I can handle Russia. My dad was Russian. I speak the language.’

  ‘But what if you arrive and Natalka’s got a boyfriend?’ Ning continued. ‘What if she’s got a drug problem? What if she’s about to get sent back to prison?’

  ‘I don’t give one shit,’ Ryan shouted back. ‘I’ve kissed girls on campus, but all I think about when I’m with them is that they’re not Natalka. When I was with her, it was like we were one person. I haven’t seen her for three years, but I still think about her. Wondering where she is, what she’s doing, if she’s happy or sad. If she still thinks about me.’

  ‘But what are the odds this will work out?’ Ning asked. ‘What if you come back with another broken heart?’

  Tears welled in Ryan’s eyes. ‘Maybe she’ll break my heart. But even if the odds it’ll work out were a million to one, I’d still want to find her and ask.’

  Ning saw the intensity in Ryan’s face. ‘You want me to go to Russia with you?’ she asked.

  ‘Nah,’ Ryan said. Not wanting to cry in front of James, he rattled the folder and headed for the exit. ‘I owe you a big one, James.’

  Ning wondered when – or even if – she’d see Ryan again as he walked out, with a manila envelope in one hand, and the other smudging tears out of his eye.

  She gave James Adams a look. It was the look his mum gave when he’d gotten in trouble at school, the look Lauren had before she kicked him for doing something dumb, the look on Kerry when she found him in bed shagging the pizza delivery chick …

  ‘You risked your whole career because Ryan’s crushing on a girl,’ Ning said, stifling a smile. ‘You look all grown up, but there’s still a mischievous twelve-year-old inside your skull.’

  James shrugged. ‘You’d rather I was some guy in a grey suit, barking orders?’

  Ning thought for a couple of seconds, then surprised James with a peck on the cheek. ‘Don’t ever grow up, James Adams,’ she told him. ‘The world wouldn’t be the same if you did.’

  EPILOGUE

  All information accurate as of December 2017

  The Paedophile Hunting Network (PHN) video of NIGEL KINNEY was viewed over 160,000 times in its first three months online. During this period several people approached PHN with allegations of other sexual offences committed by Kinney.

  Following a police investigation, Kinney was charged with eight serious sexual offences and found guilty of charges relating to six of them. After being assaulted by fellow prisoners, he is currently serving his twelve-year sentence in an isolation cell at York House prison on the Isle of Wight.

  PHN actions have led to numerous similar paedophile convictions, though police and government continue to say that their brand of vigilante justice is dangerous and of limited use in obtaining real convictions of sex offenders.

  OLIVER LAKSHMI, more commonly known as Oli, was moved to a foster home in North London following the robbery and vandalising of Uncle’s print shop. Despite numerous small altercations and some bullying incidents, Oli has now returned to normal schooling. He is doing reasonably well and his social worker reports that he has found a stable and age-appropriate friendship group for the first time in his life.

  Police moved in to arrest MARTIN JONES aka UNCLE a few hours after James Adam’s glider rescue operation was completed. By this time MI5 had been investigating his operations for over a month. In all, twenty-six people involved in the smuggling of OME equipment were arrested. Two men linked to Uncle were also later charged with the drug-related murder of CHRIS CARLISLE.

  Uncle received a life sentence for terrorism and money laundering offences. All of the OME equipment at his Birmingham scrapyard was destroyed, and oil companies around the world have agreed to destroy OME equipment when it is decommissioned, so that it cannot fall into the hands of terrorists.

  Due to the secret nature of the rescue operation, the kidnapping and return of GORDON SACHS and KAM YUEN was never publicised, and nobody within Uncle’s organisation was charged with offences relating directly to their kidnapping.

  The two engineers returned to peaceful retirement, although they are still viewed as kidnap targets and now carry emergency alarms and have had passive tracking devices inserted in their buttocks.

  ZAHRA’s first attempt at CHERUB basic training ended on the thirty-second day, following a fall that led to an eye injury. She recommenced training three m
onths later and is now a fully qualified CHERUB agent, awaiting her first mission.

  After their return from the summer hostel LEON and DANIEL SHARMA faced no further punishment for their involvement with the Paedophile Hunting Network. Daniel received his black CHERUB T-shirt following a solo mission in early 2017. The twins remain active CHERUB agents, along with their younger brother THEO SHARMA.

  Following two short, final missions, FU NING retired from CHERUB as planned in summer 2017. She currently works as a teacher at a Muay Thai dojo in Thailand. She is planning to study at an Australian university and is in a relationship with former CHERUB agent BRUCE NORRIS.

  Because he had recently worked as CHERUB staff and commenced the relationship while Ning was still an agent, Bruce has been permanently banned from working on CHERUB campus and from returning to campus at all for three years. He says that falling in love with Ning totally made it worth the ban.

  RYAN SHARMA travelled to Russia at the end of January 2017. He was able to locate his lost love NATALKA and used most of the resettlement money he’d been given by CHERUB to pay bribes to local police in order to drop various criminal charges that could have led to her serving a lengthy spell in prison.

  Ryan and Natalka then spent the summer of 2017 travelling around Europe. The couple currently live in Cambridge, where Ryan is in his first year studying History. Natalka works as a waitress and is studying for GCSEs part-time at a local college. The couple’s relationship has been described by friends as, ‘Extremely volatile and unlikely to last.’

  LAUREN ADAMS enjoyed a successful first season in saloon car racing, finishing the twelve-race series in third place and being voted ‘Rookie of the Year’. Lauren intends to compete in the same series in 2018, and has also been invited to become a test driver for a NASCAR team.

  KERRY CHANG underwent three operations to remove and replace her damaged kneecap and was able to fully begin her role as a CHERUB mission controller in June 2017.

  The complex nature of Kerry’s surgery, along with work commitments, meant that JAMES ADAMS eventually married Kerry at a Las Vegas casino in September 2017. Several friends attended the wedding, including KYLE BLUEMAN, who served as best man.

  During Christmas dinner on CHERUB campus, Kerry announced that she and James were ‘Surprised but delighted’ to be expecting their first child.

  www.rockwar.com

  Read on for the first

  chapter of Rock War …

  Prologue

  The stage is a vast altar, glowing under Texas moonlight. Video walls the size of apartment blocks advertise Rage Cola. Close to the stadium’s fifty-yard line, a long-legged thirteen-yearold is precariously balanced on her big brother’s shoulders. She’s way too excited.

  ‘JAY!’ she screams, as her body sways. ‘JAAAAAAAY I LOVE YOU!’

  Nobody hears, because seventy thousand people are at it. It’s noise so loud your ears tickle inside. Boys and girls, teens, students. There’s a ripple of anticipation as a silhouette comes on stage, but it’s a roadie with a cymbal stand. He bows grandly before stepping off.

  ‘JET!’ they chant. ‘JET … JET … JET.’

  Backstage the sound is muffled, like waves crashing against a sea wall. The only light is a green glow from emergency exit signs.

  Jay is holding his queasy stomach. He’s slim and easy on the eye. He wears Converse All Stars, ripped jeans and a dash of black eyeliner.

  An immense roar comes out of the crowd as the video walls begin a thirty-second countdown film, sponsored by a cellphone maker. As Jay’s eyes adjust to the light, he can see a twenty-metre-tall version of himself skateboarding downhill, chased by screaming Korean schoolgirls.

  ‘THIRTEEN,’ the crowd scream, as their feet stamp down the seconds. ‘TWELVE, ELEVEN …’

  On screen, the girls knock Jay off his skateboard. As he tumbles a smartphone flies out of his pocket and when the girls see it they lose all interest in Jay and stand in a semicircle admiring the phone instead.

  ‘THREE … TWO … ONE …’

  The four members of Jet emerge on stage, punching the air to screams and camera flashes.

  Somehow, the cheering crowd always kills Jay’s nerves. Thousands of bodies sway in the moonlight. Cheers and shouts blend into a low roar. He places his fingers on the fret board and loves the knowledge that moving one finger will send half a million watts of power out of speaker stacks the size of trucks.

  And the crowd goes wild as the biggest band in the world starts to play.

  1. Cheesy Crumbs

  Camden, North London

  There’s that weird moment when you first wake up. The uneasy quarter second where a dream ends and you’re not sure where you are. All being well, you work out you’re in bed and you get to snuggle up and sleep another hour.

  But Jay Thomas wasn’t in bed. The thirteen-year-old had woken on a plastic chair in a school hall that reeked of burgers and hot dogs. There were chairs set out in rows, but bums in less than a quarter of them. A grumpy dinner lady squirted pink cleaning fluid on a metal serving counter at the side of the room, while a banner hung over the stage up front:

  Camden Schools Contemporary Music

  Competition 2014

  Debris pelted the floor the instant Jay moved: puffed wheat snacks, speckled with cheesy orange flavouring. Crumbs fell off his clothes when he stood and another half bag had been crushed up and sprinkled in his spiky brown hair.

  Jay played lead guitar in a group named Brontobyte. His three band mates cracked up as he flicked orange dust out of his hair, then bent over to de-crumb a Ramones T-shirt and ripped black jeans.

  ‘You guys are so immature.’

  But Jay didn’t really mind. These guys had been his mates since forever and he’d have joined the fun if one of them had dozed off.

  ‘Sweet dreams?’ Brontobyte’s chubby-cheeked vocalist, Salman, asked.

  Jay yawned and picked orange gunk out of his earhole as he replied. ‘I barely slept last night. Kai had his Xbox on until about one, and when I finally got to sleep the little knob head climbed up to my bunk and farted in my face.’

  Salman took pity, but Tristan and Alfie both laughed.

  Tristan was Brontobyte’s drummer, and a big lad who fancied himself a bit of a stud. Tristan’s younger brother Alfie wouldn’t turn twelve for another three months. He was Brontobyte’s bass player and the band’s most talented musician, but the other three gave him a hard time because his voice was unbroken and there were no signs of puberty kicking in.

  ‘I can’t believe Jay gets owned by his younger brother,’ Tristan snorted.

  ‘Kai’s the hardest kid in my year,’ Alfie agreed. ‘But Jay’s, like, Mr Twig Arms, or something.’

  Jay tutted and sounded stressed. ‘Can we please change the subject?’

  Tristan ignored the request. ‘How many kids has your mum got now anyway, Jay?’ he asked. ‘It’s about forty-seven, isn’t it?’

  Salman and Alfie laughed, but stifled their grins when they saw Jay looking upset.

  ‘Tristan, cut it out,’ Salman said.

  ‘We all take the piss out of each other,’ Tristan said. ‘Jay’s acting like a baby.’

  ‘No, Tristan, you never know when to stop,’ Salman said angrily.

  Alfie tried to break the tension. ‘I’m going for a drink,’ he said. ‘Anyone else want one?’

  ‘Scotch on the rocks,’ Salman said.

  Jay sounded more cheerful as he joined the joke. ‘Bottle of Bud and some heroin.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Alfie said, before heading off towards a table with jugs of orange squash and platters of cheapo biscuits.

  The next act was taking the stage. In front of them three judges sat at school desks. There was a baldy with a mysterious scab on his head, a long-limbed Nigerian in a gele headdress and a man with a wispy grey beard and leather trousers. He sat with his legs astride the back of his chair to show that he was down with the kids.

  By the ti
me Alfie came back with four beakers of orange squash and jam rings tucked into his cheeks there were five boys lining up on stage. They were all fifteen or sixteen. Nice-looking lads, four black, one Asian, and all dressed in stripy T-shirts, chinos and slip-on shoes.

  Salman was smirking. ‘It’s like they walked into Gap and bought everything.’

  Jay snorted. ‘Losers.’

  ‘Yo, people!’ a big lad in the middle of the line-up yelled. He was trying to act cool, but his eyes betrayed nerves. ‘We’re contestant seven. We’re from George Orwell Academy and we’re called Womb 101.’

  There were a few claps from members of the audience, followed by a few awkward seconds as a fat-assed music teacher bent over fiddling with the CD player that had their backing track on it.

  ‘You might know this song,’ the big lad said. ‘The original’s by One Direction. It’s called “What Makes You Beautiful”.’

  The four members of Brontobyte all looked at each other and groaned. Alfie summed up the mood.

  ‘Frankly, I’d rather be kicked in the balls.’

  As the backing track kicked in, Womb 101 sprang into an athletic dance routine, with four members moving back, and the big guy in the middle stepping up to a microphone. The dancing looked sharp, but everyone in the room really snapped to attention when a powerful lead vocal started.

  The voice was higher than you’d expect from a big black guy, but he really nailed the sense of longing for the girl he was singing about. When the rest of Womb 101 joined in for the chorus the sound swamped the backing track, but they were all decent singers and their routine was tight.

  As Womb 101 hit their stride, Jay’s music teacher Mr Currie approached Brontobyte from behind. He’d only been teaching for a couple of years. Half the girls at Carleton Road School had a thing for his square jaw and gym-pumped bod.