Wren looked uneasily at the lift, then back to Jack. ‘Can we go the other way?’
‘Not from here.’
She was right though. It didn’t look strong enough to carry one of them, let alone three. But Jack and Charlie had checked it out and deemed it to be good enough for them to use. It had a strong metal frame at least.
Wren hadn’t come this way before and Jack tried his best to reassure her. ‘It’s safe, I promise.’
After a few more seconds of hesitation, Wren took a deep breath and got in, cautiously testing the stability of the floor with each step. Finally inside, she gripped Jack’s arm. ‘Are you definitely sure this thing’s safe?’
‘Definitely,’ Jack said with complete conviction, as though the lift was state-of-the-art, with not even the slightest chance of failure. Charlie would’ve been proud – his lying was getting better.
Slink pulled the grille door across and hit a large green button on the wall.
The lift shuddered violently as it dropped down the shaft.
Wren redoubled her grip on Jack’s arm. She was making him nervous now.
They descended for several uneasy minutes and Wren let out a sigh of relief when the lift stopped at the bottom with a reassuring thud.
Slink opened the grille and they followed him out.
A brick archway marked the entrance to the next tunnel and they strode off along it. The air was cold and damp. The sounds of their footfall and dripping water echoed off the stone walls. Dim cone-shaped lights hung from the ceiling, projecting small round spots on the cobbled floor.
At the end they came to a heavy steel door. Paint flaked off its surface and revealed dark golden rust on bare metal. Slink grabbed the large handle and pushed it open. Jack gestured for Wren to go next and the three of them went inside.
They now stood in a narrow room with another door at the far end. This always reminded Jack of an airlock, like they had on spaceships. The red light of a security camera blinked from the top right-hand corner. Slink waved at it and typed a code into a keypad on the wall. The far door slid aside with a hiss of air.
The room beyond was a vast space with brick pillars holding up the ceiling. Apparently, this place had been a secret bunker during the Second World War. It had its own diesel generators and air ventilation to the surface.
The main bunker was divided into four areas. On the right, there was a kitchen with breakfast bar, large American-style fridge, and electric cooker. They even had a sink with running water. Charlie tried to follow the plumbing back to its source once, but had eventually given up. As far as she could tell, it joined with the mains somewhere.
Next to the kitchen was the dining area. Charlie insisted they all sit and eat there at least once a week.
On the left-hand side of the bunker – opposite the kitchen – was the lounge. It had a large LCD TV they’d found dumped, and a DVD player Charlie had rescued from a skip and repaired. Two sofas faced each other and, scattered around the floor, were several beanbags.
Above the TV, stencilled on the wall in foot-high letters were the words URBAN OUTLAWS – the name Slink had given their ragtag group. They lived in the city, and tried to get up to no good whenever possible. So, Urban Outlaws kind of fitted somehow.
Next to the lounge was the games area with arcade machines, and opposite that, in the top-right corner of the bunker, was the ‘Obi Zone’ – a mess of cables and computers. In the middle of the chaos was a modified dentist’s chair surrounded by LCD monitors mounted on brackets. Each display showed CCTV images from around London.
Sitting in the chair was Obi himself, a kid so fat that he spilled over the sides. ‘Hey.’ He looked at each of them in turn. ‘Did you get food?’
‘No.’
Obi’s shoulders slumped.
Unlike the others, Obi’s mum and dad had owned some kind of advertising company and were rich. Very rich. Well, that was up until their plane crashed. Their bodies were never found.
Obi’s uncle became his guardian, took over the family business, and made Obi’s life a living nightmare. Eventually, he forced Obi out of the mansion and sent him to the children’s home where Jack and Charlie were staying.
At first, he’d been picked on by the other kids because of his size, but Jack and Charlie quickly helped put a stop to that.
Slink headed to the kitchen. ‘Want a drink, Jack?’
‘Sure.’ Jack dropped on to one of the sofas with a huge sigh and rubbed his bruised legs.
‘What about you, Wren?’ Slink asked her as she sat at the breakfast bar. ‘We got lemonade.’
Wren nodded and smiled. She was the latest addition to the group. Charlie had found her one night, curled up in a pile of blankets outside a homeless shelter.
Jack had thought that was ironic.
Charlie said Wren had looked like a little bird in a nest. Also, Wren’s real name was Jenny, and Charlie loved anything to do with the Beatles because her dad had played their music all the time. So, Charlie had named her after Paul McCartney’s song ‘Jenny Wren’.
Wren looked up. ‘Why do they call you Obi?’
Obi sat up in his chair. ‘It’s from Star Wars – Obi-Wan Kenobi.’ He lifted his chin. ‘Obi-Wan was a Jedi master, like me.’
Slink tossed a can of lemonade to Wren and one to Jack. ‘That’s not why you’re called Obi. It’s short for, “Oh, be quiet, you idiot”.’
Obi reached down by his chair, grabbed an empty can and threw it at Slink. Laughing, Slink cartwheeled out of the way and dived over the sofa in a graceful arc.
Obi grabbed another projectile but stopped, obviously realising it was useless to try to hit the ninja-like spider monkey. He tossed the can away and looked at the screens.
He’d hacked into the CCTV of the building Jack and Charlie were at earlier and was now watching the security guards checking the keypad lock.
Jack flicked on the TV and turned to the news channel.
‘It won’t be on there that quick,’ Obi said. He was probably right. It would take days for their latest adventure to filter to the news network, if at all. ‘How much was it?’
‘One million,’ Jack said.
‘Yeah, I know that. I meant how much did we get?’
Jack braced himself. ‘A thousand.’
‘What?’ Obi exclaimed. ‘That’s all?’
Jack nodded, but Charlie was right. They couldn’t be too greedy. It was plenty until their next job. The only problem was Jack had no idea what their next job would be. He was the brains behind the group. They each had their own specialties and his was supposed to be the planning.
Jack sat bolt upright. Obi was wrong, the news had spread fast. Really fast. They’d done the job less than an hour ago, and there it was. ‘Guys.’ He fumbled for the remote and increased the volume.
A female reporter stood in front of a children’s hospital. ‘. . . is the third such mysterious donation in the last six months.’ She brushed a strand of hair from her face. ‘The amount donated this time was almost double that of the last – a million pounds.’
Jack glanced at the others and they grinned back at him.
The reporter continued, ‘As with the others, the gift was made by an anonymous source. Authorities and the charities involved are at a loss as to who is behind these generous donations.’ She bent towards the camera and offered a mischievous smile. ‘But long may they continue.’ She straightened up. ‘This is Susan Cross, BBC News, outside Great Ormond Street Hospital, London.’
‘Generous is right,’ Obi said, sounding a little disgruntled that they hadn’t kept more back for themselves.
‘Who’s getting the next “donation”?’ Slink said.
Jack shrugged. They’d started small, a few quid here and there, but now they were finally in the big time. Able to make a real difference to people’s lives. Of course, the news reporters had only recently noticed the donations – the last three – because they were so big. Jack grinned to himself as he muted the TV again.
One of the Urban Outlaws’ mottoes was, ‘Take only what others need.’ They took money from bad guys and gave it to people who needed it more. Seized the financial assets of arms dealers, thugs, gangsters, and gave it to hospitals, charities and carers. They didn’t think of it as stealing, more like ‘moving funds’. Spreading wealth round a little bit. No harm in that, right?
Slink had once said they were like a modern-day Robin Hood and his Merry Men, but Jack didn’t think anyone would write stories about them. Besides, green tights weren’t his thing.
The door opened and Charlie walked in, carrying several bags of shopping. Obi’s eyes lit up as she heaved them on to the dining room table. Wren jumped to her feet and started to help her unpack.
‘Your turn next,’ Charlie said to Jack with a pained expression. ‘I hate carrying all this stuff back here.’
‘We could get it delivered.’
‘Yeah?’ Charlie raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You think “secret underground lair beneath London” would be on their GPS?’
Jack shrugged. ‘Worth a shot.’
Obi huffed impatiently. Charlie handed him a salad. He held it up with a look of disgust. ‘What’s this?’
‘Don’t start,’ Charlie said. ‘You need to –’
‘Need to what?’
‘It’s just –’
‘Just what?’
‘We’ve been through this, Obi.’ Charlie gave him a stern look. ‘Just eat it.’
Obi fell silent.
Charlie knew exactly how to handle him, and Jack admired that about her. They were all like brothers and sisters. They’d been through so much together. With Wren, the Urban Outlaws’ headcount had increased to five, which meant that the thousand pounds they’d just acquired wasn’t going to last as long as usual.
Jack had to think of another target – and soon, so he could plan.
Charlie tossed him a sandwich and sat on the sofa opposite. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘Nothing.’ How did she always see through him?
Charlie cocked an eyebrow. ‘Spill it.’
‘We nearly got caught this time.’
‘So?’
‘I should’ve planned it better.’
Now it was Jack on the receiving end of one of Charlie’s stern expressions. ‘It was perfect, Jack. Your plans always work.’
‘It was not perfect.’ Jack forced himself to keep control of his annoyance. ‘Those cops nearly had us.’ He looked over at Wren and Slink who were now sitting at the dining table together.
Slink was helping her with a maths assignment. As Wren wasn’t going to school any more, Charlie had insisted that they take it in turns to teach her all they knew.
Jack sighed. In a parallel universe, they could almost be a normal family.
‘Jack?’
He looked back at Charlie and lowered his voice. ‘It’s just that if anything happened to them –’
Charlie snorted.
‘What?’
‘Listen to yourself. Soon you’ll be demanding a pipe and slippers.’
Jack scowled at her. ‘We have responsibilities now.’
Charlie rolled her eyes. ‘No we don’t. Look around you, Jack. We live in a secret bunker. We can do what we like, when we like.’ She pointed to the far corner of the room. ‘We’ve even got a pinball machine.’
Jack smiled. That was one of their best finds. They’d had to move it a few metres at a time, keeping an eye out for cops on neighbourhood patrol. So much hassle, but it had so been worth it.
‘Lighten up,’ Charlie said. She sat back and bit into her sandwich.
Jack watched over Charlie’s shoulder as Obi used a mechanical grabber to go through one of the bags of shopping she’d left on the table. Slink and Wren were too engrossed in what they were doing to notice him. First, he pulled out a bag of apples. Disgusted with his catch, he set the apples down and dived in for another try. This time he was rewarded with a bag of jam doughnuts. He smacked his lips and tore the paper open.
Jack looked back at Charlie. She was right. He did need to lighten up.
‘So,’ Charlie said, ‘what’s our next target?’
Yeah, Jack thought, that small problem. ‘I don’t know yet.’
‘I got one,’ Obi said through a mouth full of doughnut. Charlie turned round but Obi managed to swallow it and hide the bag before she realised.
‘You’ve got a target?’ she said, dubious.
Slink looked up from the maths textbook. ‘Is it another one of your crazy plans that involve raiding a supermarket?’
‘No,’ Obi snapped.
‘What then?’
Obi hesitated for a moment, looked around at them all, then said, ‘Proteus.’
CHAPTER THREE
Everyone but Wren let out a simultaneous groan. She had no idea what Proteus was. Jack envied her – ignorance, in this case, was definitely bliss.
Slink did his obligatory eye roll every time Obi brought up the subject, and now was no exception. ‘Not that again,’ he said, exasperated.
Obi looked at everyone. ‘Proteus is real.’
Though Jack didn’t agree, he couldn’t help but admire Obi for sticking by something he believed in. Even if it was barmy – up there with UFOs and leprechauns. Or better yet, leprechauns flying UFOs, which Obi probably believed in too.
Obi was convinced the US government had captured an alien spacecraft at Roswell, back in the nineteen-forties, and they had been reverse-engineering it ever since. He watched countless documentaries on the subject, and belonged to a few online forums. Jack was surprised by how many people like Obi there were in the world.
So, they’d all had this argument with Obi a million times and it always went the same way: Obi would start out insisting something was real. Everyone would tell him it wasn’t. He’d get upset. Charlie would comfort him . . . It was beyond predictable.
It suddenly occurred to Jack that Obi might start arguments just to get some attention from Charlie. It wouldn’t surprise him.
Time to say what he usually did at this moment. No point denying Obi the few minutes of Charlie’s time. ‘Proteus is a myth, mate.’
‘It isn’t,’ Obi said with conviction.
Nothing new there.
Slink threw his hands up in a dramatic gesture and walked away. ‘You’re crazy.’
‘I’m not crazy.’
Slink spun back, folded his arms, and gave Obi a look as if to say, Oh, really?
‘Obi, sweetie,’ Charlie said in a soft tone.
Here it comes, Jack thought.
‘Proteus is –’ She took a breath. ‘It isn’t real.’
‘What’s Proteus?’
All eyes moved to Wren. She was chewing on strawberry liquorice and looking at them in complete bewilderment.
‘It’s a quantum computer,’ Obi said, as if this would make things clear for her.
Wren screwed her face up. ‘What’s that?’
Jack said in a monotone voice, ‘A computer that uses quantum physics and the power of atoms to run calculations. Therefore, far outperforming any current technology.’
This was greeted by a blank expression and silence.
Charlie whispered in Jack’s ear, ‘You read that on Wikipedia, Einstein?’
‘Very funny.’
Charlie looked at Wren. ‘What Captain Physics and his overeating sidekick are trying to say is it’s a very powerful computer that hasn’t been invented yet.’
Obi frowned. ‘It has been invented. It’s –’
Jack held up a hand, interrupting him. ‘Proteus is a rumour spread among naive script kiddies.’
Wren blinked. ‘Script kiddies?’
Jack gave a dismissive wave. ‘Doesn’t matter.’ He turned back to Obi. ‘Please just get to the point, so we can go back to what we were doing,’ he said, even though Jack had no idea what he was going to do with the rest of the evening.
‘Fine.’ Obi spun a trackerball mounted to his chair and the main
monitor in front of him sprang to life. It showed a black-and-white CCTV image of the alleyway Jack and Charlie were in earlier. ‘I was going through the footage trying to work out why they changed the lock, and I found this.’
A white van backed into the alleyway and three men jumped out. One unlocked the building’s roller door while the other two removed a crate from the back of the van. The men struggled to carry it into the building and vanished from view.
Jack looked at the others. Like him, so far they seemed unimpressed.
Obi sped the recording forward fifteen minutes and the men came back out of the building, still carrying the crate, though it was clearly a lot lighter and empty now.
The men locked up, slid the crate into the back of the van and drove off.
Obi turned to the group with a triumphant smile. ‘See?’
Everyone was frowning.
‘See what exactly?’ Charlie said.
Obi huffed as if they were all blind. He sped the recording back to the moment the men were carrying the crate to the van and paused the image. ‘There.’
They leant in.
‘What are we looking for?’ Jack said.
‘Come on, guys.’ Obi zoomed in on the image to the side of the crate. There was a logo burnt into the wood. It was a number one shaped like a sword.
‘Wait a minute.’ Jack couldn’t disguise the large measure of dubiousness in his voice. ‘You’re saying that’s Proteus?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying,’ Obi said with an equally large measure of defiance.
He typed swift commands into the keyboard in front of him and images flashed up on the screens. They all contained the same sword logo.
Obi did a fast commentary as the images went past. ‘Proteus – first talked about six months ago on the Cerberus forums. Next, two weeks later and word of components being ordered.’ He pointed at copies of scanned receipts. ‘Gyro then managed to get a picture of this.’ Obi clicked the trackerball and a blueprint popped up. It was part of a design for a cooling system. In the top right-hand corner was the sword logo with the word PROTEUS written underneath. Obi let out a breath and looked at them. ‘Well?’
Charlie shook her head. ‘I don’t even know where to begin.’
Urban Outlaws Page 3
