Urban Outlaws

by Peter Jay Black

  ‘What?’

  She pointed at the blueprint. ‘If they really had a quantum computer, it would fill a room, need all sorts of – well, more than that.’

  ‘Lasers,’ Slink said. ‘That stuff always has lasers.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Charlie said. ‘Look, Obi, my point is two men would not be carrying a quantum computer in a crate. That’s nuts.’

  Obi sighed. ‘Why does no one get it?’ He glanced between them. ‘Don’t you think it’s weird?’

  ‘I think it’s weird,’ Wren said. They looked at her. She blushed. ‘Just saying.’

  ‘And they changed the lock, remember?’ Obi said.

  Charlie frowned. ‘So what?’

  ‘No,’ Jack said in sudden realisation. ‘Obi’s right.’ He hadn’t yet had time to work out what that really meant. He had to hand it to Obi for putting it all together.

  Slink leant against the back of the sofa and yawned. ‘Can you explain it to the rest of us?’

  ‘Well,’ Jack said, ‘there was also a security guard where there wasn’t one before.’

  ‘And,’ Charlie said, catching on, ‘he had a gun.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Exactly. Which means they were protecting something. Something big.’

  ‘So,’ Charlie glanced at the screens, ‘whatever that is –’

  ‘Proteus,’ Obi said under his breath.

  Charlie scowled at him. ‘Whatever was in that crate, it must be important. And those guys don’t look legit.’

  ‘Especially if they have guns,’ Wren said.

  Charlie looked at Jack and her eyes mirrored his excitement. ‘What do you think?’

  Jack smiled and a renewed surge of hope and determination flowed through him.

  If those men were protecting something, that meant it was valuable. If it was valuable, Jack and the others might be able to sell it, or at the very least stop whatever bad things they were up to.

  ‘I’ve no idea what’s in that crate,’ Jack said, ‘but I want to find out.’ The smile turned into a huge grin. ‘Let’s see what toys they’ve got.’

  • • •

  By eight o’clock the next night, the group’s initial enthusiasm had long since worn off. All apart from Obi’s, of course – he was beside himself with excitement that they were going to check it out because he was still convinced he was right.

  With any job, the first thing they did was tap into the nearby surveillance cameras and monitor the comings and goings. Obi had that all set up from the previous night, so he didn’t have much to do apart from watch. So far, nothing had happened.

  Jack wondered if their recent excursion had frightened off whoever from whatever it was they were doing.

  He pondered this while he was in the kitchen making dinner. Today’s delicacy was ham and sweetcorn pizza with a side order of cheesy puffs, followed by chocolate chip ice cream with liberal amounts of sprinkles.

  Obi kept glancing over and smacking his lips.

  ‘That’s yours.’ Jack pointed to a bowl of salad.

  Obi screwed up his nose. ‘I’m not eating any more of that rubbish.’

  ‘You promised her you’d lose ten pounds.’

  Obi groaned, seeming to remember the conversation with Charlie. If it was anyone else but her, Obi would have made some suggestions as to where they could shove the salad.

  Jack pulled the two pizzas from the oven and set them on chopping boards. He called Slink over. ‘Cut these up, would ya?’ he said, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Charlie had been missing for the past three hours and there was only one place she’d be. He left the kitchen and walked down a corridor.

  Apart from the main communal area, the bunker had a further eleven smaller rooms, comprising of six bedrooms, the generator room, the electrical room – which was no bigger than a cupboard – a bathroom and separate toilet, and lastly Charlie’s workshop.

  The workshop itself was three metres wide and ten long. Halogen lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room in overlapping bands of light. Benches ran down each side, and the left one held all manner of electronics: circuit boards, salvaged parts out of old radios, TVs, computers. In the middle of the mayhem was a soldering station under a spotlamp.

  The bench on the right was a jumble of metalwork, with vices, saws, drills and a whole range of tools hanging on the wall. There was even an electric wheelchair that Charlie was ‘modifying’.

  To the untrained eye, the workshop looked like a disordered mess. Charlie insisted it was organised chaos.

  Jack had a basic understanding of what everything in here did, but he was a thinker rather than a builder.

  Electronics and making stuff was Charlie’s thing.

  Charlie’s mother had died giving birth to her. Jack had once caught a glimpse of a picture of her mum that she kept in a drawer, and seen where Charlie got her jet black hair and Asian looks from, but she rarely talked about her.

  Her striking jade eyes were just like her German father’s, but she had inherited much more from him. He had been a mechanic, so she’d grown up with cars and motorcycles. As soon as Charlie was old enough to hold a screwdriver, she’d taken stuff apart: engines, bikes, televisions. Several times her dad had saved her from electrocution, burning or decapitation.

  Jack knew Charlie missed him because every time she mentioned her dad she got a distant look in her eyes, as if she were back in his workshop with him, or he with her, and she’d turn away if even a hint of a tear formed.

  Jack walked to the end of the room where Charlie was sitting hunched over a desk.

  He dropped into the chair next to her. ‘Whatcha doing?’

  Charlie started. ‘Jack, knock next time, will ya?’ She looked guilty about something.

  Jack frowned at the laptop in front of her. Charlie had a website open – the Dr Benjamin Foundation for Missing Children. ‘You do know that my mum and dad are dead, right?’ he said.

  ‘I’m not looking for you.’ Charlie turned back to the laptop and continued to scroll down the list of kids and families.

  ‘Then who are you looking for?’

  Charlie hesitated and glanced at the door.

  ‘Let me guess,’ Jack said. ‘Wren. You’re looking for her parents, aren’t you?’

  Charlie returned her attention to the laptop.

  Jack said, ‘I thought they were dead.’

  ‘Only one of them.’ Charlie scrolled down the list.

  Now it was Jack who was glancing at the door. He lowered his voice. ‘She told you her story?’

  ‘Bits.’

  There was a long silence as Charlie seemed to be weighing up whether to tell him or not. Eventually, she let out a breath and turned in her chair to face him. ‘Wren’s mum and dad broke up before she was born. Her mum banned him from ever seeing Wren. Said she wanted him to have nothing to do with her or the baby.’

  ‘Sounds harsh.’

  Charlie shrugged. ‘We’ve all had to deal with our own stuff.’

  That was true. Charlie’s dad had been murdered by an unhappy customer with a gun. He hadn’t stood a chance.

  As for Jack? Well, his own parents died in a car accident when he was three. He was in the car with them at the time, but had no memory of it.

  ‘So,’ he said, ‘how did Wren wind up on the streets?’

  ‘She came home from school one day and found her mum on the sofa, not breathing. There was nothing Wren could do for her.’

  Jack grimaced, imagining the scene.

  Charlie leant back in her chair. ‘Social services came, did their usual bit and tried to trace her dad.’

  ‘They didn’t find him?’

  Charlie shook her head. ‘Wren’s mum left no details on the guy. The birth certificate even had a made up name on it.’

  Jack frowned. ‘Why?’

  Charlie shrugged. ‘No idea.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Anyway, social services put Wren into care. No one wanted to take her on. Blah, blah.’

  ‘OK.’ There must’v
e been more to the story. A cute kid like Wren not finding foster parents?

  ‘There was an older girl . . . Hmm, Tracey something. Anyway, she used to bully Wren. Y’know?’

  Jack nodded. He knew all too well. Growing up in a children’s home was tough. Understandably, a lot of the kids had serious issues. ‘So she ran away?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that’s when you found her?’

  ‘A couple of weeks later.’

  ‘Weeks?’ Jack said, surprised. ‘How did she survive?’

  ‘Begging. She’s a good pickpocket too.’

  Jack pointed at the laptop. ‘So, what’s the missing kids site for?’

  ‘I was kinda thinking that Wren’s real dad might have heard what’s happened to her, maybe even tried to track down his lost daughter.’

  Jack cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘That’s a long shot.’

  Charlie glanced at the screen. ‘I know.’

  ‘He might be dead too.’

  ‘Maybe. Anyway, if he’s not looking for her, then social services will be. It’s a place to start.’ She spun to face the laptop and continued to scroll down the screen. After a few minutes she said, ‘Got it.’

  Jack leant over to see the display clearly. In the middle of the screen was Wren’s real name:

  Jennifer Jenkins.

  Charlie was right. Social services were looking for Wren. ‘Now what?’ he said.

  ‘I need to see if I can get a lead on where her dad is. Put out the word. See if anyone’s tried to find her. Get a name. An address. Anything.’ Charlie looked at the screen, then back to Jack. ‘Don’t tell her.’

  Jack held up his hands. ‘I won’t say a thing.’

  ‘Hey, guys.’

  Charlie slammed the laptop shut and spun round.

  Slink stood in the doorway and he looked excited.

  ‘What’s up?’ Jack said.

  ‘Obi’s got something.’

  • • •

  Back in the main room, Jack and Charlie grabbed slices of cold pizza and gathered around Obi. He had the same CCTV image on the screen as before, but now there was movement, a lot of movement.

  Several trucks and vans had backed into the alleyway and it was a hive of activity. The roller door was up and twenty or so men bustled about carrying boxes.

  A forklift was unloading crates from the side of a truck.

  Whatever those men were doing, Jack’s initial hunch had been correct. It was big.

  ‘What is all that stuff?’ Charlie said.

  Jack said, ‘Prepping for World War Three?’

  Slink’s eyes lit up. ‘You think it’s guns?’

  ‘Whatever they’ve got,’ Jack said, ‘I don’t think it’s office supplies.’ His attention rested on the corner of the image as a black SUV with tinted windows pulled up to the kerb at the end of the alleyway.

  Two men and a woman stepped from the car. They were dressed in black suits and wore sunglasses. This was England – people hardly ever needed to wear sunglasses, especially at night.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Jack said, his stomach sinking.

  Charlie looked at him. ‘What?’

  ‘Game over.’ He walked to the living area and flopped on to one of the sofas, defeated.

  Charlie sat opposite. ‘What’s over?’

  He waved a dismissive hand at the screen behind him. ‘They’re government agents.’

  Slink laughed. ‘Only in films. They don’t dress like that in real life.’

  ‘Yes they do.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘I’m telling you, they are,’ Jack said. ‘You know why they’re wearing sunglasses?’

  Obi said, ‘Because they’re vampires.’

  Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘No. It’s because CCTV face recognition software doesn’t work if you’re wearing sunglasses. It recognises facial patterns. Sunglasses screw that up.’

  Slink said, ‘Why would they care about being recognised?’

  ‘So they can move about unseen. Anyway, the software isn’t exclusive to the government. Anyone could be using it. Even bad guys use it to look out for agents or enemies.’

  ‘Why does it matter if these guys are agents?’ Obi said. ‘We can still –’

  ‘Forget it,’ Jack said. ‘No way we’re having anything to do with the government.’ Besides, he thought, none of them believed that Proteus was real anyway. Well, no one except Obi.

  The game had changed. Whatever was in those crates and boxes, it wasn’t bad guys that had it. It was worse – the government.

  Jack was just about to suggest they give up and think of another target when Obi called them over again.

  The vans and trucks were still in the alleyway but all the people had gone.

  ‘Where are they?’ Charlie said.

  Obi pointed at the roller door. Inside the building, shadows moved. The CCTV camera was at the wrong angle to see what was going on.

  Charlie turned to Jack. ‘You can’t tell me you’re not a little bit curious?’

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘Jack,’ Slink said in a tentative voice, ‘let me go see.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘I’ll be careful.’

  ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘I’ve got an idea.’ Charlie hurried off down the corridor.

  A few minutes later, she returned wearing her hoodie and black leather jacket. She had something strapped to her shoulder and was clipping a battery pack to her belt.

  ‘What’s that?’ Wren said.

  ‘A camera.’ Charlie called to Obi, ‘SIM seven.’ She looked at Jack. ‘I’ll be quick. In. Out. Gone.’

  ‘You’re not going.’

  Charlie ignored him. ‘Obi?’

  Obi typed a few commands and the main display sprang to life. It showed a view of the bunker from Charlie’s shoulder cam.

  Jack grabbed her arm. ‘You’re not going.’

  ‘Jack,’ Charlie said in a strong tone, ‘if you have a better suggestion for a target . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

  Jack hesitated, then let go. ‘Fine. Whatever.’ If she wanted to see, there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t own her. They were a team. He sighed. ‘Just be careful, OK?’

  Charlie winked. ‘Always.’ She looked at Obi. ‘Ready?’ Obi gave her a thumbs-up and Charlie ran to the door. It hissed open and she stepped through.

  The rest of them watched the main display. It showed the image of Charlie’s shoulder camera as she sprinted along the tunnels, the beam of her torch bouncing off the walls.

  Jack had a bad feeling about this.

  • • •

  Twenty minutes later, Charlie was climbing the metal ladder that led into the park. She slowly lifted the manhole cover and peered out. It was dark and deserted, so she slid on to the grass.

  Another glance around the park and then she jogged along the main path to the entrance. She ran across the road and kept close to the buildings. A few blocks up, she slowed her pace, keeping her back to the wall, staying in the shadows.

  They could hear her fast breaths coming through the speakers.

  After a minute or so, Charlie peered around the corner into the alleyway. It was still filled with various vans and trucks, but there was no sign of anyone.

  She hurried into the alley, keeping low and close to the vehicles.

  Charlie appeared in the black-and-white CCTV image on Obi’s screen.

  ‘Can the government agents see Charlie on their monitors too?’ Jack asked Obi.

  Obi shook his head. ‘They’re watching a recording from earlier. She’s safe.’

  Charlie stopped behind a van to catch her breath.

  Jack picked up the microphone. ‘Charlie?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Be careful.’ That bad feeling wouldn’t go away.

  There was a short pause. ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘They must be inside.’ She peered around the edge of the van. Ahead was the roller door. Light spilled across the ta
rmac and shadows moved. ‘I still can’t see inside,’ Charlie whispered. ‘I’m gonna have to get closer.’

  ‘Charlie,’ Jack warned. Suddenly, the CCTV of the alleyway went dark and the monitor displayed static. ‘Charlie?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Get out of there, they’re on to you.’

  Charlie’s camera view moved from side to side. ‘There’s no one here,’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m telling you,’ Jack said urgently. ‘Get out.’

  Charlie let out an annoyed breath. ‘Fine.’ Keeping low, she edged around the van, and froze. Walking towards her was the female agent. Charlie spun round and went to make a break for it but another agent had stepped behind her. He looked gigantic from Charlie’s point of view – over six foot five and built like a tank. Charlie tried to slip past his hulking frame but the agent grabbed hold of her. Charlie struggled in the man’s arms.

  A third agent stood in front of them and peered over the top of his sunglasses with cold eyes. He frowned at the camera, then his hand reached out and tore it from Charlie’s shoulder.

  The screen went blank.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jack stared at the display and cursed his complacency. It was his fault. He should’ve stopped Charlie from going. She was only there to have a look and wasn’t supposed to be doing anything too risky.

  He broke his gaze from the display in time to see Slink snatch his coat from the back of a chair and march to the door. Jack hurried after him and grabbed his arm. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘What do you think I’m doing?’ Slink tried to break free but Jack wouldn’t let go. ‘Get off me.’

  ‘We have to think this through.’

  ‘Think what?’ Slink said, his face reddening. ‘We don’t have time for you to plan this out, Jack. Who knows what they’re doing to her.’

  ‘They won’t do anything.’

  Slink frowned. ‘Why not?’

  ‘If I let go of you, will you let me explain?’

  Slink continued to stare for a moment, then relaxed. ‘You’ve got five minutes, then I’m going after her.’

  Jack released him and turned around. Wren and Obi were watching and they both looked pale.

  Jack began to pace. ‘A few years ago, Charlie and I made a pact,’ he said. ‘We promised each other that if either one of us got caught doing this kind of stuff, we’d grass the other one up.’