Lone Wolf (17 page)

33. CALLS

Two days after the raid on the grow house, Ning woke up on an airbed in the allotment shed. She sat up, eyeing a bluebottle crawling up the inside of a dirty window and the striped van parked next to a compost mound at the bottom of their plot.

Ning’s knee clicked as she stood up. She thought about making a hot drink on Fay’s little gas stove, but went for a little bottle of Tropicana orange, which floated in an enamel bowl to stay cool. She needed the toilet, which meant trudging over several hundred metres of dirt and gravel to a smelly shed, where you could hear your waste drop into a big composting tank below.

After pulling on leggings, wellies and a striped T-shirt, Ning made the toilet trek and bumped into a stern-looking Fay on the way back.

‘Morning,’ Ning said.

‘My phone’s hit-and-miss on the allotments, so I walked up to the street to get a better signal,’ Fay said grumpily. ‘There’s still no text or anything from Shawn and his phone’s dead when I try to call.’

‘Probably switched it again,’ Ning said.

‘It’s been
two
whole days,’ Fay said. ‘What’s he playing at?’

‘Stay cool,’ Ning said. ‘You’re selling, he’s buying. He probably doesn’t want to seem too keen. I bet he’ll make out like he’s already got tons of cannabis and try to screw us on the price.’

‘And I saw that lady from plot twelve, the one who gave us the nice strawberries. She made some comment about how I always seem to be around. I think she knows I’m living on site.’

Ning nodded. ‘You can’t keep staying here full time. I’ll sneak you in at Nebraska House. I need to go back for a proper shower and clean clothes anyway.’

‘I don’t like leaving the van,’ Fay said.

‘You need to take your mind off stuff,’ Ning said. ‘We can go see a movie or something.’

Fay’s face turned sour. ‘I’m waiting on Shawn. How can I sit in a bloody cinema with my phone switched off?’ she growled, as she pointed at the van.

‘All I’m saying is, worrying won’t get you anywhere.’

‘You stating the bloody obvious every five minutes doesn’t help much either,’ Fay snapped.

Ning shook her head. ‘Does it matter if Eli’s crew buys the drugs? Hagar must still be mad that his grow house has been located and trashed.’

‘What about the money?’ Fay asked.

Ning shrugged. ‘We’ve got more than we can spend from the stash house rip-off.’

‘My whole plan is to make Hagar so mad that he does something rash. And nothing is going to make Hagar madder than knowing that I’m ripping him off and selling the gear on the cheap to his deadliest rival.’

‘What makes you think Hagar will do something rash?’ Ning asked. ‘He’s ultra-cautious. Warren’s never seen him, and he reckons that apart from Craig his lieutenants barely see him either.’

‘I know Hagar,’ Fay said firmly. ‘My mum and my auntie robbed him a dozen times. You don’t get into Hagar’s position in the drug business without being smart. But red mist is his weakness. When things go his way he’s cautious and methodical. But if something gets under his skin, he loses it. And that’s when I’m going to pop up and blast his nasty little head off.’

Fay seemed like her old self as she glared at Ning, but a chime from her phone put her straight back into an anxious frame of mind.

‘Is it Shawn?’ Ning asked.

Fay tutted and shook her head. ‘Warren’s texting from school. He’s asking if I want to meet up with him at lunchtime.’

*

The Year Sevens and Eights sat on the floor at the front of the school hall, while older kids filed into rows of metal chairs. It was the end of summer term. The mood was heady with the thought of six weeks’ holiday, while Year Thirteens had gone for all-out anarchy, throwing flour and eggs, stripping off shirts and staging school-tie-burning ceremonies.

‘Quiet,’ a deputy head roared. ‘Year Nine, I’m talking to you.’

But Year Nine collectively told the deputy head where to stick the idea of being quiet and a girl ran off yelping as someone stuck an orange ice pop down her back.

Ryan had made a few friends at school, but he ignored them as he entered the hall, cutting back amidst rows of chairs into an enclave populated by Year Eleven and Twelve kids.

A group of Year Thirteen girls started singing a rude song about one of their PE teachers, before collapsing in shrieks of giggles. A teacher waded in and plucked a titchy Year Eight boy who was whistling with two fingers in his mouth.

‘We hate Tottenham and we hate Tottenham,’ some Arsenal boys chanted.

Amidst all of this randomness, Ryan sat in an empty chair directly behind a stocky kid named Ash Regus. Ash was a typical Hagar recruit: a brighter-than-average kid, who wanted to make some money selling drugs at parties to ease his way through university.

Ash was beefy, with cropped hair and angry pimples all over his neck. There was a black Eastpack on the polished wood between Ash’s legs, and Ryan had just received a text message confirming that he’d collected a package from Craig during his lunch break.

‘I’m happy to wait all day,’ the head said, though most of his fellow teachers looked like they wanted a sunlounger and a cocktail ASAP.

A science teacher made a token effort to stop kids from leaving, but these lads weren’t coming back for Year Twelve so the school had no power over them, and a couple of guilty-looking girls followed.

‘Knoooob head!’ the last lad shouted, having a little tussle with the science teacher as he left the school hall.

Things calmed down slightly as someone dimmed the lights. A big group of Year Thirteens came in, looking a lot like they’d been boozing. They got shushed by a teacher, so they all started shushing each other noisily and grated seats as the headmaster began his drone.

‘. . . so we reach the end of another school year. Some of us have experienced their first year of secondary school, and are just settling into their lives here. Our Year Thirteens are at the other end of this journey and we wish all of them well as they begin adult lives and . . .’

As the headmaster droned in a voice that could have made a story about Jesus riding a unicycle naked down the school corridors seem boring, Ryan kept focused on the Eastpack. Ash clearly regarded the contents as important, with one strap gripped in a tight fist and the other hooked around his ankle.

Just as Ryan decided that his chances of sneaking the package out of Ash’s bag were nil, one of the Year Twelves sitting behind kicked his chair. He glanced back furiously.

‘Go sit with the other Year Tens, saddo,’ a lanky kid said.

‘Or what?’ Ryan asked.

He got his answer with another kick in the back.

‘Move,’ the kid demanded.

The noise made Ash and just about everyone else in the surrounding seats look around. Ryan was annoyed because the last thing he wanted was for Ash to clock him. Ryan tried to ride it out, but he got kicked again.

‘Move.’

Ryan was furious that his plan to spy discreetly on Ash had been ruined. As soon as he stood up, even more kids looked around and at least one teacher was giving him a
what the hell are you standing up for
stare.

As Ryan made a step towards a group of kids in his own year, another boy kicked an empty chair into his path, making him trip.

‘Mind where you’re stepping,’ the lanky kid who’d kicked him three times said, as all his mates sneered.

Having so many people looking and laughing made something snap. Ryan spun around furiously, yanked a seat out of the way and launched himself at his tormenter.

Ryan got one arm around the lanky kid’s neck as a roar of excitement ripped through the assembly and he landed several powerful body shots and a smack in the mouth. When the Year Twelves realised their friend was losing, they started dragging Ryan off.

He broke free, at the cost of a torn shirt sleeve, swung at one of the kids who’d moved behind and struck him clean in the temple, knocking him cold. He ducked a punch as two PE teachers came piling between the chairs to stop the fight. But before they got there, another ruck had broken out between Year Tens siding with Ryan and Year Twelves who weren’t.

As Ryan backed up into Ash’s chair, surveying the damage he’d caused – including three damaged and one unconscious Year Twelve – about twenty other boys were facing off, with a big group of Year Tens squaring up to physically bigger but less numerous Year Twelves.

‘Everybody sit down!’ the headmaster yelled.

Ryan looked back and saw that all the Year Sevens and Eights were starting to stand up and turn around to see what was going on behind them. One of the teachers got a hand on Ryan’s shoulder but he was too riled up to submit.

‘Hands off me, prick.’

The teacher didn’t take kindly to this and the scuffle between Year Tens and Twelves kept getting bigger as the teacher started giving Ryan a
how dare you
type speech.

A few kids had started shouting, ‘Bundle!’ and overexcited Year Nines trying to get a look at the action forcefully shoved a couple of weedy kids into the rows of plastic seats.

‘This is not acceptable,’ the headmaster yelled.

The scuffles didn’t seem to be breaking up, even though more than a dozen teachers were now trying to pull kids apart. Mostly it was just shoving and jeering, but there were a few punches being thrown and at least one bag had sailed across the hall hitting a girl in the back.

At this point a drunk Year Thirteen girl in a shocking-pink wig set off the fire alarm by the main doors. Kids began pouring out. Ryan managed to break free of the PE teacher who’d been giving him a lecture, while the headmaster desperately told people to stay in their seats. Then, after a brief consultation with one of his deputies, the head changed tack and told everyone to follow the fire rules and meet at the assembly points on the Astroturf pitches.

Ryan tried to keep Ash in sight, but he’d bolted when the fire alarm sounded. He saw Ash’s head bobbing out of the fire doors, but by the time Ryan got out into sunlight himself Ash had disappeared in a melee, with most of the lower-school kids heading obediently for the Astroturf, and the older ones going straight for the school gates.

‘Young man,’ the PE teacher said, grabbing Ryan’s shoulder as he desperately tried to spot Ash. ‘I haven’t finished talking with you.’

Ryan was pissed about getting taunted and losing Ash. He came within a quarter second of chinning the burly teacher, but thought better of it. He might need to come back to this school if the mission dragged on for six more weeks, and while fighting a teacher would probably make him a legend amongst the friends he’d made on this mission, it was much less likely to impress the senior staff back on CHERUB campus.

‘Wait outside the headmaster’s office, now!’ the PE teacher yelled.

Ryan reluctantly let the teacher take his arm and begin marching him towards the head’s office. Kids walking past on either size stoked Ryan’s anger by making hissing noises and chanting stuff like
you’re in trouble
or
you’re getting excluded.

And while all that was going on, Ash and his fake package of drugs had completely vanished.

34. REJECTION

Ning got hassled by a social worker when she got back to Nebraska House, because she’d been AWOL for two days. Getting grounded would have been a pain, but luckily she was just docked a week’s pocket money and banned from a seaside trip that she had no plans to go on anyway.

Smuggling Fay into Nebraska House was easier than explaining her presence in the shower room to a nosy ten-year-old. Both girls felt better for a shower, clean clothes and a shared box of Maltesers. They watched trash on E4 and for the first time in two days, Fay relaxed enough to stop checking her phone for messages every two minutes.

Good cheer lasted until 4 p.m., when Shawn finally returned Fay’s call. The two girls shuffled up close on the bed so that Ning could hear both ends of the conversation.

‘Sorry it took so long to get back,’ Shawn said. ‘I’ve been having a lot of conversations with the boss about this. We’ve got plenty of supply right now.’

Fay and Ning both suspected that this was a ploy to bring down the price.

‘I’m not asking for fortunes,’ Fay said. ‘There must be a price you’re willing to pay.’

‘Afraid not,’ Shawn said firmly. ‘We just paid you girls a lot of money for cocaine and cash flow ain’t great since Hagar moved in on our business. You’re smart girls. If I were you, I’d ditch this gear, or ship it to your pals up north, if they’re for real. Keep your noses clean, and live it up with the cash you made already.’

Fay’s voice became tense. ‘Shawn, this is top-notch, hydroponic, high-THC weed. The quality of this stuff is the reason Hagar took all your best customers. This is your chance for a role reversal. Your crew could be selling the best gear in town, while Hagar’s got nothing but a grow house full of rotting plants.’

Shawn laughed uneasily. ‘What do you think’s gonna happen when we start putting this stuff on the street? One sniff will tell Hagar that it’s his own shit we’re selling. He’s already pissed off about the stash house. If we start selling his weed to his own customers, it’s gonna be all-out war.’

Fay snorted. ‘I didn’t realise Eli was scared. Hagar’s a wolf. If you don’t stand and fight, he’ll keep biting chunks out of your business until you’ve got nothing left.’

Shawn made a more relaxed sigh, and Fay was starting to feel like he was talking down to her. ‘Hagar and Eli are businessmen. They’ll tweak each other’s noses, but all-out war costs lives, money and brings the law down on your backs. Hagar and Eli have been known to parlay. I’ve sat in as a bodyguard and you know what they talk about? Not street hustles and gangster wars. They talk about villas in Ibiza, diamond watches and whether my boss’s new Porsche is faster than Hagar’s new Ferrari.’

‘But Hagar’s taken a big chunk out of Eli’s business.’

Shawn tutted with contempt. ‘Fay, you’re a kid. You think you’re smart because you listen to some street talk. But your sources know dick about how shit works at the top level. You’ve got as much chance of making Eli go to war with Hagar as I have of making Canada go to war with the United States.’

Fay wanted to lash out, but she
was
just a fifteen-year-old girl and Shawn was sowing doubts in her head.

‘Is there anyone you can put me in touch with who might buy the gear?’ Fay asked weakly.

‘I’d help if I could,’ Shawn said. ‘But Eli’s mind is set. He wants
nothing
more to do with you girls. I like how you girls roll, but Eli was even talking about setting up a buy, then tipping off Hagar’s crew so that they got to you first.’

‘Jesus,’ Fay said, moving the phone away from her face because she hated what she was hearing.

‘Listen to what I’m saying and stay out of trouble,’ Shawn said, before hanging up abruptly.

‘Shit,’ Fay hissed.

She pulled her arm back to lob the phone, but Ning snatched her wrist.

Fay spent the next few minutes staring silently into her lap, while Ning tried to find soothing words. Ning’s mission brief was to keep Fay involved with Hagar so that she could gather intelligence. But Fay could be reckless to the point where she endangered both of their lives, and Ning had a lot of empathy with a girl who’d lost her entire family, just like she had.

‘Maybe Shawn’s right,’ Ning said softly.

After a pause, Fay began shaking her head. ‘Shawn probably understands Eli, but he doesn’t know Hagar.’

‘You’ve never actually met either of them,’ Ning pointed out.

‘No,’ Fay said, nodding. ‘But there’s just too many stories out there. When Hagar’s rattled he gets crazy. And that’s when I’ll get my chance to nail him.’

‘Maybe we could find someone else who’ll buy the gear in the van,’ Ning suggested. ‘You can keep my share and you’ll easily have enough to live on for a few years.’

Fay’s expression had changed from meek to determined. ‘I’m not giving up on this just because Eli’s got no balls.’

‘There’s not much we can do without his muscle,’ Ning said.

Fay nodded in agreement. ‘But we don’t actually need Eli to start a war with Hagar, do we? We just need Hagar to
think
Eli’s starting a war with him.’

Ning smiled. ‘And how the hell do we do that?’

*

James walked through the main entrance of Ryan’s school and caught a whiff that reminded him of every other school he’d ever been to. The place was deserted. Reception was unmanned, but he eventually found a cleaner running a floor polisher.

‘I had a call,’ James explained. ‘I’ve got to see the head about my little brother.’

The cleaner gave directions and James ended up in a waiting area outside the head’s office. Ryan sat on a foam-backed armchair, along with a couple of other kids who’d played major roles in disrupting the assembly that never happened. One of the kids had an anxious mum waiting alongside him.

‘What happened?’ James asked.

Ryan couldn’t mention the mission with two other kids earwigging. ‘I thumped this kid who kept kicking my chair and it kinda started a mini-riot.’

‘Impressive,’ James said, smiling but then regretting it.

James was now CHERUB staff, but he was only twenty-two and he often found himself sympathising with CHERUB kids and feeling an impostor in the role of a responsible adult. He was quite surprised that Ryan had lost his temper, but it was exactly the kind of thing James would have got in trouble for when he was an agent.

‘Is anyone in the office?’ he asked, pointing to the door with
Headteacher
written on it.

The mum sitting with her son spoke quietly. ‘The headmaster’s in there. But he said he had to make some phone calls before he could deal with us.’

‘Did he?’ James said knowingly. Senior teachers don’t actually have many powers to punish kids, but they always like to make them sit around, nervously awaiting their fate.

The mum gasped as James knocked on the head’s door and stepped in without waiting for a reply. The head was on his laptop, looking at second-hand car listings.

‘I’ll call you in when I’m ready,’ the head said.

James cast a deliberate glance at Autotrader.com and tutted. ‘I’m a self-employed mechanic. Time is money.’

‘You must be Ryan’s brother,’ the head said, with a slight air of disapproval. ‘And his legal guardian?’

James nodded. Ryan got called in. Nervous Mum looked angry because she’d been waiting over half an hour. The head gave a long spiel about what had happened. Ryan said he was provoked, but accepted that he should have told a teacher or moved away, rather than losing his temper and starting a brawl. So far, the police hadn’t been involved, but they might be if one of the parents made a complaint. The head wanted Ryan to have a fresh start after the holidays, so his only punishment was to write a 1,000-word essay on Gandhi and other historical figures who’d achieved their goals through non-violent protest.

‘Sorry we barged in,’ James told the mum, as they headed out.

‘Sorry,’ Ryan said, as James led him out of the school, straddling splattered yolks and flour lobbed by Year Thirteens earlier in the day. ‘Is this gonna go on my mission report?’

James was conflicted. He sympathised with Ryan and wanted him to feel upbeat about the mission. On the other hand, this was one of James’ first jobs as a mission controller and he wanted to do things by the book.

‘I guess it depends,’ James said, letting the sentence hang until Ryan responded.

‘On what?’

‘Well, I’m finding laundry a chore. And emptying the dishwasher, vacuuming. I might be prepared to be lenient if those things got taken care of.’

Ryan smiled and nodded. ‘I’m on school holidays now, anyway.’

‘Maybe the odd foot massage,’ James added, but it was such an obvious joke that Ryan didn’t bother to respond.

‘Thanks,’ Ryan said.

‘What about Ash’s package?’ James asked. ‘When’s he due to deliver it?’

‘Monday morning.’

‘What’s your plan?’

Ryan shrugged. ‘I don’t have one yet. But they’ve given me his home address, and it’s a safe bet that Ash will keep it in his house until he goes out to deliver it.’