CHERUB: Class A

by Robert Muchamore

  Although Operation Snort is still running, its effectiveness has been blunted by infighting over the bribery allegations.

  One national newspaper reporting on Operation Snort said, ‘If all the corruption allegations are true, it would appear that Keith Moore has more police officers protecting him than the Queen and the Prime Minister combined.’

  2004

  (Present Day) Despite a personal fortune now estimated at between £35 and £50 million, Keith Moore has shunned the trappings of the super rich. He lives with his four children in a large detached house less than twenty minutes’ drive from the housing estate where he was born. His four children attend the local comprehensive school. He works from an office at home and socialises with family members and friends he has known since boyhood. His only extravagances are a collection of Porsche sports cars and a beachfront house in Miami, Florida.

  MISSION REQUEST

  In early 2004, frustrated by the lack of success in bringing down KMG and outraged by police corruption, the government asked the intelligence service to find a way of infiltrating KMG at the highest level. MI5, the adult branch of British Intelligence, could see no reason why it would have any more success at this than the police. CHERUB was suggested as a method of last resort.

  Keith Moore is close to his four children. Appropriately placed CHERUB agents may be able to befriend them and gather vital information.

  MISSION PLAN

  Husband and wife mission controllers, Ewart and Zara Asker, will move into a house on the Thornton housing estate with their baby son and four CHERUB agents. For the purposes of the mission, the agents will be adopted children of Zara and Ewart. The family surname will be Beckett. To minimise confusion, everyone will use their normal first names.

  PRIMARY OBJECTIVE:

  Each agent has been selected to befriend one of Keith’s children, as follows:

  James Adams

  – Junior Moore (Keith Junior)

  Kyle Blueman

  – Ringo Moore

  Kerry Chang

  – Erin Moore

  Nicole Eddison

  – April Moore

  If the cherubs succeed in making friends, they must attempt to socialise out of school and try to get inside Keith’s home, gathering information wherever possible. Each cherub will be placed in the same tutor group as the child they are supposed to befriend.

  SECONDARY OBJECTIVE:

  Many children on the Thornton estate run errands and deliver drugs for KMG associates. Each cherub should identify children who are working for KMG and try to get involved themselves. Children usually work for small-time dealers, delivering drugs to individual clients using mobile phones and pushbikes.

  Evidence suggests that children who attend Keith Moore’s boxing club and make reliable couriers are promoted rapidly and given responsibility for moving wholesale quantities of drugs. If these children can be identified and befriended, they may provide information that will enable police to prosecute senior figures inside KMG.

  NOTE: ON THE 13TH DAY OF AUGUST 2004 THIS MISSION PLAN WAS PASSED BY THE CHERUB ETHICS COMMITTEE BY A 2:1 VOTE, ON CONDITION THAT ALL AGENTS UNDERSTAND THE FOLLOWING:

  This mission has been classified HIGH RISK. All agents are reminded of their right to refuse to undertake this mission and to withdraw from it at any time. Agents will be at risk of violence and exposure to illegal drugs. Agents are reminded that they will be excluded from CHERUB immediately if they willingly use cocaine or any other class A drug.

  *

  It was breaking all sorts of rules, but Zara Asker let them take the mission briefings outside and read them in the sun. She’d made a picnic, spreading a tablecloth over the grass and covering it with sandwiches and snacks. It was a chance for baby Joshua to get used to Kyle, Kerry, Nicole and James. The eight-month-old sat under a sunshade, wearing nothing but a nappy. Kerry and Nicole leaned over him with giant grins.

  ‘Look at his tiny fingers, James,’ Kerry beamed. ‘He’s so cute you could gobble him up.’

  James lay back in the grass with sunglasses on, thinking he looked cool and wondering how Kyle had managed to get Nicole on the mission.

  ‘It’s a baby, Kerry,’ he said, ‘I’ve seen one before, they all look exactly the same.’

  Kerry tickled Joshua’s belly.

  ‘That’s James,’ she said. ‘Isn’t he Mr Grumpy today?’

  ‘Ooogy woogy woo,’ Nicole added.

  Ewart was striding across the grass towards them, carrying an icebox and some bottles of soft drinks. He was a big muscular guy, with bleached hair and half a dozen earrings. He wore a Carhartt T-shirt and old jeans with the legs ripped off.

  Zara was older than her husband. She looked like a typical harassed mum, with scraggy hair and puked-up milk on her T-shirt. Like most CHERUB staff, she was a former pupil. She’d gone to university and worked for the United Nations before returning to CHERUB as a mission controller. Kyle had worked with Zara a couple of times before. He said she was one of the best mission controllers to get. Everyone agreed Ewart was the toughest.

  ‘Hey, Nicole,’ Kyle said, swatting a fly away from his paper plate. ‘You should have seen how happy James was when he found out you got on this mission.’

  James sat up, surprised by Kyle’s outburst. Nicole turned away from the baby.

  ‘Was he?’ she said, breaking into a smile. ‘Is that right, James?’

  James was flustered. Kerry would kill him if she found out he’d paid Kyle to get Nicole on the mission.

  ‘That’s right,’ James spluttered. ‘I’ve never got a chance to know you, but the few times I’ve spoken to you, you’ve always seemed … nice.’

  ‘Thank you, James,’ Nicole smiled. ‘I was worried I’d be the odd one out because you three are already close.’

  Kyle grinned. ‘And James fancies you.’

  ‘Piss off, Kyle,’ James said.

  Kyle was one of James’ best mates, but he was always trying to con you or wind you up. Sometimes it got annoying. Zara cuffed Kyle around the back of the head.

  ‘I’m only telling the truth,’ Kyle said.

  ‘Kyle, behave,’ Zara said sharply. ‘And James, you watch your language in front of the baby.’

  James could feel his face burning with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

  ‘I know James doesn’t fancy me,’ Nicole said. ‘Everyone knows James and Kerry have a thing going.’

  ‘Says who?’ Kerry gasped.

  ‘Yeah,’ James said defensively. ‘Me and Kerry did basic training together and we’re good mates. It doesn’t mean we fancy each other.’

  Kyle laughed. ‘If you say so, lovebirds.’

  ‘At least I’ve had a girlfriend,’ James said, looking at Kyle. ‘You’re nearly fifteen and I’ve never seen you anywhere near a girl.’

  Kyle looked offended. ‘I’ve had girlfriends.’

  James grinned, sensing he’d put Kyle on the back foot.

  ‘Girls in dreams don’t count, dickhead.’

  A second later, James found himself dangling in the air with Ewart eyeballing him.

  ‘Fifty laps,’ Ewart barked.

  ‘What?’ James gasped.

  ‘You shut that filthy mouth in front of my son.’

  ‘He’s a baby,’ James said. ‘He can’t understand a word.’

  ‘But he’ll learn,’ Ewart snarled. ‘Get over to the running track, now.’

  Fifty laps of the track took two hours and left you for dead when you stiffened up the next morning. Zara intervened before James boiled over and told Ewart where to shove his laps.

  ‘Ewart, darling,’ Zara said gently. ‘James needs to be here while we discuss the mission. I’m sure an apology will be sufficient.’

  James, still suspended in mid-air, didn’t think anyone deserved an apology, but it was better than running the laps.

  ‘OK,’ James said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ Zara asked.

  ‘I shouldn’t have sworn
in front of the baby.’

  ‘Apology accepted, James,’ Zara said. ‘And Kyle, quit being smart. You’re the senior agent on this mission. I expect you to help the less experienced agents, not keep stirring up trouble.’

  After Ewart had put him down, James straightened his clothes, sat on the grass and started piling chicken drumsticks and sandwiches on to a paper plate. Nicole shuffled up beside him and pinched a couple of his crisps.

  Zara began reading notes from a long list.

  ‘OK, as you all know, we’re leaving first thing the day after tomorrow. Pack light. There are seven of us and it’s a small house. State schools start Tuesday, giving us a nearly a week to settle in before term starts. I’ve prepared a hundred and sixty page dossier on Keith Moore, his associates and his family, I want all of you to read it and memorise as much as you can…’

  7. MOVING

  It was pandemonium. They had a big moving van and a people carrier. The van was already stuffed, mostly with baby stuff like pushchairs and walkers. Kerry had five bags of clothes and junk, which James had to hump downstairs because her knee was still weak. Kyle, who was always ridiculously neat, wanted to take his clothes rail, eight pairs of shoes and his own ironing board. Ewart was going berserk, using language that would have earned James thousands of laps.

  ‘I’m only making one trip,’ Ewart shouted. ‘So you lot better sort yourselves out.’

  James was the only one who’d followed instructions to pack light. He had a backpack, with toiletries, spare trainers, a jacket and a few changes of clothes. His Playstation and TV had gone ahead the day before with the furniture.

  Lauren came tearing around the corner towards them. She was in uniform and she was crying. It was the last thing James expected.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, bundling his sister into his arms.

  Her T-shirt was sweaty and the sobs made her whole body shudder.

  ‘Just …’ Lauren sniffed.

  James pulled her tighter and rubbed her back.

  ‘Is someone bullying you, or something?’

  ‘I’m ten in two weeks,’ she explained. ‘It’s doing my head in thinking about basic training.’

  Lauren acted tough most of the time, but she couldn’t always keep the nine-year-old girl inside herself under control. Whenever there was a chink in her armour, she came to James for comfort.

  ‘Lauren, I passed training,’ James said, feeling a bit emotional himself. ‘I’d never done Karate and I could barely swim. With all the fitness and combat exercises you’ve done, you’re a million times better prepared than I was.’

  Lauren dragged her wrist over her eyes. Kerry got Lauren a tissue.

  ‘Come on, kids,’ Zara shouted, as she climbed into the people carrier. ‘I want most of this drive out of the way before Joshua wakes up and starts screaming.’

  ‘I wish you weren’t going away,’ Lauren said.

  ‘Bethany’s going into training with you,’ James said. ‘She’ll probably be your partner. You two will do great.’

  Lauren stepped back from James. Kerry gave her a quick squeeze.

  ‘Just think, Lauren,’ Kerry said. ‘In four months, basic training will be a memory and you’ll be able to go on missions. I’ll bet you, any money you like.’

  Lauren smiled a bit. ‘Yeah. I hope so.’

  ‘If you want,’ James said, ‘I can probably arrange for you to visit us in Luton on your birthday. We can have a laugh.’

  Lauren looked surprised. ‘Will they let me?’

  ‘They won’t mind. It’ll be good experience for you: getting a taste of what it’s like being out on a mission and stuff.’

  ‘You better go then,’ Lauren sniffled, dabbing her eyes with the tissue. ‘I don’t know what made me start crying. It just … Sorry … I feel really dumb now.’

  James pecked his sister on the cheek, before saying goodbye and climbing in the back of the people carrier.

  Kyle leaned out of the side window. ‘You’ll make it through training, Lauren,’ he shouted. ‘Don’t go losing any sleep.’

  James pulled up the door and buckled his seatbelt.

  ‘Sorry I shouted, James,’ Zara said, from the driver’s seat. ‘I didn’t realise Lauren was upset. Is she OK?’

  ‘I think so,’ James nodded.

  Lauren waved as they drove away. James’ eyes were a bit damp, but he wasn’t worried. Lauren had a good brain and she was fit. A serious injury was the only thing likely to stop her getting through basic training.

  *

  Ewart and Nicole travelled in the moving van with the luggage. Zara drove the people carrier, with Kyle next to her in the front. James and Kerry sandwiched Joshua’s baby seat in the back. The baby woke up an hour before they arrived. Kerry had a go at feeding him, but he screamed his head off. She passed him over to James while she hunted round her feet for a bottle Joshua had batted on to the floor.

  Joshua stopped screaming as soon as James took him. When Kerry tried to take Joshua back, he went nuts again. Kerry gave James the bottle and Joshua began drinking calmly.

  ‘Looks like we’ve found James’ job for this mission,’ Zara said, grinning. ‘He likes you for some reason.’

  Kyle laughed. ‘Kerry probably traumatised him with the funny faces she was pulling the other afternoon.’

  James wasn’t used to babies. He was terrified he might do something wrong and either hurt Joshua or get puked over. It turned out OK, apart from a few dribbles of milk. After feeding, Joshua lay quietly in James’ lap playing with the laces on his shorts. Once James got used to it, he thought having the warm little body wriggling on his lap was quite cool.

  *

  A third of the houses on the Thornton estate were boarded up. The detached homes looked decent enough, but nobody wanted to live in them because of the airport a kilometre south. Every few minutes, a couple of hundred people thundered overhead, shaking the ground and filling the air with the sickly smell of jet fuel.

  You only ended up living on Thornton if you didn’t have a choice. The residents were a mix of refugees, students, ex-convicts and families who’d been chucked out of better places for not paying the rent.

  A gang of lads had to stop their football match to let Zara drive through. Ewart and Nicole had arrived minutes earlier. Nicole had unpacked the mugs and started making tea.

  The windows in the house were triple glazed to keep out the aircraft noise, but that didn’t stop everything vibrating. Besides, it was too warm to leave every window closed.

  There were three bedrooms between seven people. Kyle and James got a box room with bunk beds, a chest of drawers and a tiny wardrobe.

  ‘Just like old times,’ James said, remembering when he and Kyle shared a room in a council home before he joined CHERUB.

  ‘There’s nowhere to hang my clothes,’ Kyle said miserably. ‘They’ll get creased.’

  ‘You can have the whole wardrobe,’ James said. ‘I’ll just dump my stuff in the bag or under the bed.’

  ‘If there’s anything that stinks in this room, I’m chucking it out,’ Kyle said. ‘I don’t care if it’s a sock or a seventy-quid pair of trainers – if it smells like you, it’s going in the bin.’

  James laughed. ‘I’d forgotten what a complete tart you are.’

  *

  Zara made dinner for everyone: fish fingers and oven chips, with frozen peas.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, handing plates to the line of kids in front of the TV. ‘You better get used to my cooking. It’s not exactly gourmet.’

  Something crashed outside the living-room window. All the kids downed cutlery and bundled towards the window. There was rubbish all over the front lawn and a metal dustbin rolling towards the gutter. A couple of boys were sprinting off down the pavement. Ewart burst out of the front door, but they’d disappeared up an alleyway.

  As James mopped his last chip through his ketchup, Ewart strode in and switched off the TV.

  ‘I always watch Neighbours,’ Kerry
gasped.

  ‘Not today you don’t,’ Ewart said. ‘You kids have a job to do.’

  ‘Go outside and start making friends,’ Zara said. ‘There’s bound to be some dodgy characters in an area like this, so stick together. I want you back here as soon as it gets dark.’

  ‘And James,’ Ewart said, ‘you better pick all that rubbish off the front lawn before you go.’

  ‘Why’s it my job?’ James said bitterly.

  Ewart broke into a smile. ‘Because I said so.’

  James thought about starting a row, but you never win against someone like Ewart.

  *

  It was easy starting conversations. The summer holidays had dragged on for weeks and the local kids were bored. James and Kyle played street football until they got knackered. Kerry and Nicole stood by the kerb, nattering with a bunch of girls. When it started getting late, the four of them got invited to a kiddies’ playground.

  There was nothing special about it: a burned-out park keeper’s shed sprayed with graffiti, a busted roundabout, a climbing frame and a slide. But once the sun started to go down, it came alive. Kids aged between ten and sixteen gathered in fours and fives; smoking, arguing and being loud. There was a tense atmosphere. Flash kids dressed like Nike commercials ripped into refugees dressed out of the charity box. Boys were trying to get off with girls and there was a rumour going around about a gang from another estate turning up and starting a fight.

  Apparently, a kid had been stabbed in the playground a couple of months earlier. He’d ended up with between eight and two hundred stitches, depending on what version of the story you believed.

  ‘This is boring,’ Kerry said, after half an hour of standing around without anything happening except a lot of talk. ‘We better go home.’

  ‘You go if you want,’ James said. ‘I’m staying to see if a fight breaks out. It might be good.’