Urban Outlaws

by Peter Jay Black

  A trap.

  How had they known where they were?

  Jack looked up but couldn’t see a police helicopter.

  ‘There’s only one way through,’ Charlie said.

  He was about to ask what she meant by that when Jack noticed the gap between the police cars. It was only half a metre wide, but still a gap.

  A cop was standing there, truncheon out, ready to batter some heads.

  Charlie hunched over the handlebars. ‘Time to play chicken.’

  Jack groaned.

  He could imagine the determination in her eyes.

  How fast were they going? Thirty, forty, fifty miles an hour? If they caught anything on their way through, it would end in disaster or, more to the point, hospital. Perhaps even a funeral parlour.

  He tucked in behind her, closed his eyes, and wished he’d worn a thicker jacket, boots, gloves, anything to lessen the impact.

  He felt Charlie move first left, then right, making small adjustments. ‘Like threading a needle,’ he heard her say.

  Yeah, Jack thought, only the thread is a lump of hot metal carrying two teenagers and travelling at a million miles an hour.

  This wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Charlie let out a deafening roar.

  Jack opened his eyes enough to see the policeman jump clear as they shot into the gap.

  He felt his foot-peg hit one of the police car’s number plates.

  The bike wobbled dangerously, almost throwing Jack and Charlie off.

  Charlie screamed out, but somehow, she managed to regain control.

  And they got through.

  Jack glanced back as the agents’ car slid to a halt, tyres screeching, wheels smoking.

  Charlie leant the bike over.

  Jack automatically mimicked her movements as they vanished around the corner.

  • • •

  Ten minutes later, when they were sure they were a safe distance away, Charlie pulled over. ‘I have to work out where we are.’

  Jack had to admit that after so many left and right turns, he was also lost. They could be anywhere. He looked around for familiar landmarks. Not finding any, he turned back to Charlie. At the same time, her body went rigid. He looked up to see the agents’ SUV pull into the road in front of them.

  ‘This is nuts,’ Charlie said. ‘How do they keep finding us?’ She spun the bike around and they raced away, the SUV in pursuit once again.

  Jack’s stomach tightened.

  Charlie was right. How did the agents – ‘That’s it,’ he shouted. ‘That’s how they know where we are all the time.’

  ‘What are you on about?’

  ‘They’re following us on the CCTV.’

  There were thousands of cameras around London.

  Jack changed channels on the headset. ‘Obi?’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Never mind that. Listen . . .’ Jack explained his theory.

  ‘They can’t do that, Jack,’ Obi said, after a moment’s pause. ‘Even if they could, they’d only be able to follow the cop cameras, not private ones.’

  He’s right, Jack thought. They normally would only have access to council and official CCTV security cameras. That didn’t include all the countless private cameras around the city.

  Obi continued, ‘They’d also need hundreds of people to look at all those cameras. It’s not possible.’

  Sudden realisation hit Jack. ‘Not for a human.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Something we’ve already seen.’

  There was another short pause, then Obi said, ‘Proteus. Of course, they’re using Proteus.’

  ‘Right,’ Jack said. ‘I’m guessing some sort of image recognition. Proteus is hacking into the cameras and using recognition software to follow us.’

  Charlie leant over hard, almost throwing Jack from the bike, and they squeezed between a set of concrete bollards and raced up an alleyway.

  Jack glanced back to see the agents’ car screech to a halt again, inches from the bollards.

  That would buy them some time.

  His mind went into overdrive. Proteus wouldn’t be using standard recognition software. Software design was advanced but not that advanced. If another motorcycle went past a camera, it probably wouldn’t be able to distinguish friend from foe. He racked his brains. They were wearing black but so did a lot of motorbike riders. They were shorter than the average rider but the software wouldn’t pick that up either.

  ‘Think. Think,’ Jack muttered.

  Finally, he understood. It was so simple, he felt stupid.

  ‘Got it,’ he shouted.

  Charlie jolted and the bike shook. ‘Don’t do that.’

  They rounded the corner and weaved around the back of some buildings.

  ‘Stop the bike,’ Jack said.

  ‘What? No way.’

  ‘Stop,’ Jack shouted.

  Charlie slammed on the brakes and they slid to a halt.

  Jack jumped off the back.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Charlie said, looking around anxiously.

  ‘I need someth– This.’ He reached over and pulled the bandanna from Charlie’s neck. Jack ran to the back of the bike and wrapped it around the number plate.

  Charlie said, ‘Jack, that’s my fav–’

  ‘If we get out of this alive,’ Jack snapped, ‘I’ll buy you a new one.’ He tied off the ends and checked the number plate was completely covered. Satisfied, he clambered back on. ‘Go.’

  They raced up the alleyway, turned on to a main road and weaved through the traffic at high speed.

  ‘Slow down,’ Jack said after a few minutes. ‘They can’t follow us now.’

  Charlie eased on the throttle. ‘The bunker?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ Jack said in resignation. ‘We can’t go back yet.’

  Charlie didn’t respond. She’d obviously come to the same conclusion. It wouldn’t take long for the government agents to realise what Jack had done and reconfigure Proteus to recognise them, rather than the bike.

  There wouldn’t be enough time to get back to the bunker without being spotted, and if they were spotted, they might lead the agents to their hideout and the others.

  They had to dump the bike, stay on foot and avoid as many cameras as they could.

  ‘Jack?’ It was Obi, and he didn’t sound like he had good news.

  Jack had a more pressing matter. ‘Disconnect everything,’ he said. ‘Go dark.’

  There was also the chance that Proteus could get the bunker’s location. OK, they’d only find the IP address coming from a pizza restaurant on the surface, but with further investigation they’d find the wireless repeaters and track down the signal.

  Eventually, they’d locate the source and uncover the bunker.

  ‘Did you hear me, Obi?’

  Things just couldn’t get any worse.

  ‘Yeah, I heard you,’ Obi said in a small voice, ‘but there’s another problem.’

  Jack’s blood ran cold. ‘What’s wrong?’

  There was a short pause. ‘Well,’ Obi said, ‘it’s the virus.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It’s gone.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  Charlie dumped the motorbike and helmets behind a church. She covered them with cardboard boxes, but had a look of resignation. Chances were the bike would be found and either stripped for parts, or impounded by traffic wardens. Either way, it was gone.

  Jack rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  ‘They might as well have these.’ Charlie reached under the boxes and put the keys back in the ignition. ‘Now what?’

  ‘We need to go somewhere I can think.’ Something Jack should’ve done from the very beginning.

  A police car, sirens blaring, shot past the alleyway.

  Jack and Charlie pulled back into the shadows. ‘Somewhere we won’t be disturbed,’ he added.

  Charlie raised her hood and took his hand. ‘I know j
ust the place.’

  • • •

  An hour later, they were at Tower Bridge. Charlie had broken in and they were now sat on the roof of one of the towers. From this vantage point, they had a clear view over the River Thames and London.

  For a long while, Jack stared across the cityscape, his eyes unfocused, the million points of light blurring in streaks across his vision. Charlie kept fidgeting and he looked at her. ‘What’s up with you?’

  ‘I just remembered something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I left my laptop on.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I set a search running for Wren’s dad.’

  Jack stared at her. ‘You found his name?’

  Charlie nodded.

  Jack frowned. ‘I’m not sure that it’s such a good idea.’

  Charlie frowned back at him. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Wren – Well – I just think she wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. She’s settled with us.’

  ‘She has a father, Jack. She’s got a chance at a real family, not –’ Charlie bit her lip and looked away.

  ‘Not what?’ Jack said, thinking of the bunker. ‘What’s wrong with what we’ve got? Beats living in a home.’

  Charlie looked back at him. ‘But if you could be with your mum and dad again, wouldn’t you want that?’

  Jack thought about it. He had no memory of his parents, but he supposed that, given the choice . . . He sighed and stared out across London.

  His mind replayed the last few days. How had they got into this mess? More importantly, how were they going to get out of it again? ‘We need help,’ he said, though he hated to admit it.

  Charlie looked at him. ‘Noble?’

  He nodded. ‘Noble.’

  Charlie typed into her phone and a few minutes later it beeped with a return message. ‘He says he’ll meet us at midday tomorrow.’

  That was Noble, Jack thought, always willing to help them out, no questions, but Jack hated asking Noble for anything because he’d given them so much already. If it wasn’t for him, they’d still be in a home or on the streets.

  A few years ago when it was just the three of them – Jack, Charlie and Obi – they’d worked out the perfect mission to test their combined skills.

  Or so they thought.

  A boy called Michael West continuously bullied Obi. Mike would pick on him about his size, steal money and sweets from him, clothes, trainers, anything that would guarantee Obi’s life was a nightmare. Mike lived in the same children’s home as the three of them, so it wasn’t as if Obi could ever escape.

  Several times, Jack and Charlie had attempted to stop Mike, but he never listened. Once, he’d even tried to punch Charlie in the face. Luckily, she was way too fast for him.

  So, in the end, they’d treated it like a secret mission – gather information to use against Mike and make him leave Obi alone. Better yet, get him out of all of their lives for good.

  But the three of them got more than they bargained for. Turned out, Mike and his brother had been selling stolen phones, gadgets, and jewellery to kids outside an East London school.

  Most of the electronic items didn’t work and the jewellery was fake. The children were too scared to complain, and the police did nothing to stop it.

  So, one afternoon, as the kids came out of school, Jack, Charlie and Obi hid down a nearby alleyway and set to work.

  Charlie had built a custom device to remotely gain access to Mike’s and his brother’s phones. Once she’d connected, it was Jack’s turn to work his magic.

  First, he accessed their contacts and copied them. Next, their private text messages. That, along with some hidden video footage of the two of them in action, thanks to Obi, was more than enough evidence to shut Mike up once and for all.

  Satisfied they had what they needed, Jack, Charlie and Obi packed up their stuff and started to walk away.

  A tall man, in his sixties, with long silver hair and dark skin, stepped into their path. ‘I want a word with you three,’ he said in an American accent.

  At first, Jack thought the man was another criminal, but – lucky for them – it turned out to be Noble.

  Noble explained that he’d been tracking Mike and his brother for almost a year, and had gathered a lot of evidence. They were only two out of a whole gang dealing in counterfeit goods, stolen jewellery, even guns. You name it, they were into it.

  Noble had a list of gang members going all the way to the top. He explained that if Jack, Charlie and Obi let on about their own measly amount of evidence, all his hard work would’ve been for nothing. The gang would realise someone was on to them, ditch their computers and phones and start fresh somewhere else.

  Noble wanted Robert Mitson, ‘Mr Big’, the head of the gang. He was also an importer of guns, and exporter of stolen cars and other items.

  Nevertheless, Noble had been impressed with Jack, Charlie and Obi’s skills. ‘You three obviously have talent for this game.’

  Jack frowned. ‘What “game”?’

  Noble pursed his lips. ‘I’m not sure what to call it. Cyber vigilantes?’

  ‘What do you want?’ Charlie said, dubious.

  Noble considered her for a moment. ‘With my guidance, I can help you make a difference.’

  Charlie snorted. ‘Make a what now?’

  ‘I also want you to help me bring down Robert Mitson.’

  Jack glanced at Charlie and Obi. Like him, they seemed unsure about this strange man. He didn’t look like he’d hurt them, but they couldn’t be too careful.

  Charlie muttered, ‘Stranger danger, Jack. Let’s get out of here.’

  Jack looked back at Noble. He agreed with Charlie but he was still curious. ‘We’re going to need more of a reason before we agree to anything.’

  ‘Jack,’ Charlie said, ‘are you freakin –’

  Jack held up a hand, cutting her off.

  Noble pulled a wallet from his pocket, opened it and took out a photo. He handed it to Jack.

  The image was of a pretty girl with shoulder-length black hair, and dark skin like Noble’s.

  ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘That was my daughter, Lela.’

  Jack handed the photo back. ‘Sorry.’

  Noble sighed, and slipped it back into his wallet. ‘She was murdered. I believe it was someone in the same gang as your friends who shot her.’ He looked up the alleyway towards the school. ‘I’ve been gathering evidence ever since. That’s why I want to bring Robert Mitson down.’

  Jack glanced at Charlie and Obi, then back to Noble. ‘It’s a sad story, but we –’

  ‘I don’t expect you to trust me as easy as that,’ Noble said, ‘but,’ he looked at the three of them in turn, ‘if you help me,’ he gestured towards the school, ‘I promise I will take down Mike as well.’

  None of them answered.

  Noble waited. ‘I’ll pay you.’ He looked at Jack. ‘I’m sure you’d enjoy a laptop?’

  Still no one responded.

  Jack would’ve liked nothing more than to have his own computer, to be able to get on the internet whenever he wanted.

  Noble let out a breath. ‘Maybe I’m being naive.’ He stepped back. ‘You’re free to go. I’m sorry I wasted your time.’

  Jack looked at Charlie and Obi again.

  After a moment, they both nodded.

  ‘OK,’ Jack said to Noble, ‘here’s the deal – we’ll agree to help you but it’s on our terms, right? We’ll meet in a public place. Let’s say next Wednesday at the British Library. We’ll plan the mission together there, and if we feel OK with that, we’ll help you. But, if there’s any sign of trouble –’

  ‘I’ll kick your head in,’ Charlie finished.

  Noble offered her a weak smile. ‘I have no doubt you would.’ He nodded. ‘Next Wednesday,’ he said and he walked towards the underground station.

  They watched him go and Charlie said, ‘Jack, if he turns out to be an axe murderer and chops us into little pieces, I’ll
kill you.’

  Obi said, ‘That makes no sense.’

  • • •

  Charlie needn’t have worried. Slowly, over the weeks and months, it became clear that Noble was the kind of adult they wanted in their lives. The only adult they could trust. His knowledge of gangs, hacking, the underworld was huge. He spent hours telling them how criminals worked, what tricks they used, and what clever ways he had come up with to trap them.

  Jack, Charlie and Obi first helped Noble with his mission to get Robert Mitson. This had landed Mike’s brother in jail, and Mike himself in juvenile prison.

  Then, having learnt so much, and not wanting that to end, they continued to work with Noble.

  A year later, Jack, Charlie, Obi and Noble were on a mission that would change their lives forever. They tracked a gang of smugglers who were using the tunnels under London to move stolen goods.

  And it was down one of these tunnels that they stumbled across the abandoned World War Two bunker.

  It was fate.

  After a month of hard work, they had it all set up.

  Back then the bunker had no entertainment – no widescreen TV, no pinball machine – but it was still very impressive with all its computers.

  Obi was looking at the newly fitted LCD displays next to the chair when something dropped from the ceiling.

  He let out a girly scream and scrambled back, almost tripping over his own feet.

  ‘Don’t worry, nothing to be afraid of,’ Noble said, raising his hands. ‘This is Tom.’

  The boy – who was now grinning at Obi – was around ten years old and very skinny. He held out a hand to shake. ‘Call me Slink.’ He nodded at the others and said to Obi, ‘Want a lemonade?’

  Obi glanced at the ceiling – as if checking no other kids were hiding up there – then gave a cautious nod.

  Slink chuckled and led the way to the kitchen.

  Noble said in a low voice to Jack and Charlie, ‘I thought Tom could stay here.’

  Noble explained that Slink used to take care of his mother – she had multiple sclerosis – but social services had split them up and Slink had wound up homeless and on the streets.

  Jack patiently listened to the story before he asked, ‘Why’ve you shown him the bunker? It’s supposed to be a secret.’

  Noble considered him for a moment. ‘Tom has some extraordinary skills. I think the four of you will work well together here.’