Brigands M. C. (18 page)

Neil shook his head. ‘We’ve already set the wheels in motion for our gun purchase. We’re going to get our undercover buyer to say he’s having cash problems and delay his purchase for a few weeks, but we can’t mess Sealclubber around forever. Your job is to try getting information as quickly as possible. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll pull the whole operation.’

Ross took up the story. ‘Lauren and Dante are going to attack the problem from a different angle through the Führer’s son Joe. Dante’s job is to become Joe’s best friend …’

‘Again,’ Dante interrupted. ‘He was my best mate for years.’

Ross nodded. ‘Lauren’s job is the same, but hopefully she’s going to appeal to Joe as potential girlfriend material.’

‘Unless he’s gay,’ James grinned. ‘In which case Dante will have to try snogging him.’

‘Gross,’ Dante complained.

‘James, be serious,’ Chloe said firmly.

‘OK,’ James smiled. ‘A
serious
question. We know that the Führer is a criminal who’s stayed out of trouble for years. He wasn’t even charged when he wiped out Dante’s whole family. What makes us so sure that his fourteen-year-old son is going to know anything about his dodgy dealings?’

Neil answered. ‘We know the Führer is close to his younger son. Who knows if Joe flaps his mouth too much when you give him a couple of beers? Or if he mentions something he shouldn’t when he’s trying to impress a girl?’

‘We can give it a go,’ Lauren nodded. ‘What about electronic surveillance? You know, if we get in his house, or the Brigands clubhouse and plant bugs and stuff ?’

Ross shook his head. ‘It’s a dead end. We’ve had electronic surveillance in place for over two years. The Brigands speak in codes when they use a telephone or have a meeting in the clubhouse. But anything sensitive gets discussed face to face, usually in some field out in the open.’

‘So that’s the basis of your mission,’ Ross said. ‘We were hoping that Neil was going to have penetrated the Brigands organisation at a much higher level than you’ll be able to. I’m not going to pretend that our chances of success are particularly great, but I hope you three are willing to accept the challenge because South Devon Brigands are bringing a lot of guns into the country. As far as I’m concerned, even a twenty per cent chance is worth taking because these guns are killing people on the streets.’

Chloe nodded approvingly. ‘I don’t know how much attention you three pay to the newspapers, but gun crime amongst teenagers is exploding in British cities.’

‘Well, you know I’m in,’ Dante said, and James said the same.

‘Lauren?’ Chloe asked.

Lauren kept thinking about the argument with Rat. She’d really been looking forward to going to the summer hostel with him, but on the other hand even if she
had
flirted a little with Dante he’d totally overreacted.

‘Sorry,’ she said finally. ‘I’m just knackered after swim training. I’m in, of course.’

It took three days for Chloe to sort out accommodation in the Salcombe area and finalise all the minor details for their mission.

It was a Sunday morning. James stood in his room, rummaging through a packed bag to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything when Kerry came in to say goodbye. She sounded sad and James decided it was time to find out where their relationship was heading.

‘This mission’s all tied into a weapons buy that the police have already set in motion,’ James explained, relieved to find his iPod in a side pocket. ‘I can’t see it lasting much more than a month or two, and you and me seem to be getting along pretty well these days.’

Kerry laughed. ‘We
always
do until we actually start going out with each other.’

James zipped the side pocket. ‘We’re older now, though. We’ve been out with other people. I know we’ve broken up twice before, but I think it had more to do with the fact that we were so young than anything else.’

Kerry took a step so that her nose almost touched James’ chin. It was early and Kerry only wore the T-shirt and baggy pyjama shorts she’d slept in. Her smell turned James on and he imagined shoving her on to the bed and ripping her shorts down, but Kerry would break his neck if he judged that move wrong so he went for a simple kiss on the lips.

After a half-minute snog and a good grope of Kerry’s bum, she backed away and they stared open-mouthed at each other.

‘Why’d you stop?’ James asked.

Kerry shrugged. ‘I’m not getting into this just as you’re leaving,’ she explained. ‘Especially with your reputation.’

‘What reputation?’ James said, acting as if butter wouldn’t melt.

‘Your reputation for snogging or bonking every girl that comes near you,’ Kerry said. ‘When you come back we’ll talk about getting back together.’

‘So you think we should?’ James asked. ‘And what if you get sent on a mission before I come back?’

‘That’s
exactly
my point,’ Kerry said warily. ‘I don’t want some big long-distance relationship thing starting up. I don’t want to cheat on you, I don’t want you to cheat on me. For all we know I’m about to get sent off on some year-long mission where some bronzed millionaire stud will sweep me off my feet.’

‘That’s
me
’ James grinned. ‘I’m bronzed, I’m a stud and you can have me right now. I’ll even put a Durex on if you ask nicely.’

Kerry knew James wasn’t being serious and burst out laughing. ‘You might be cute from some angles, but the man of my dreams doesn’t have a zit the size of a Rolo on the back of his neck.’

‘Hormones,’ James said, rubbing the zit selfconsciously. ‘It’s just a sign that I’m brimming over with masculinity.’

‘You can call it masculinity, but it looks more like pus to me,’ Kerry replied, as she gave James a quick kiss and turned towards the door. ‘I’m training some red shirts in the dojo at eight-thirty so I’d better get ready. Have a good mission, text me, yeah?’

‘Of course,’ James said, feeling a bit sad as Kerry disappeared around the door.

He kicked his door shut, then grabbed a ruler off his desk. He thrust it high into the air and stood in front of his wardrobe mirror with his legs wide apart. He thrust his hips forward and spoke in a deep voice. ‘Using the power vested in me by the great god Helix I swear that I shall one day make love to the fine maiden Kerry Chang.’

James felt dumb laughing at his own silliness, but he was still sniggering when he carried his bags towards the lift five minutes later.

*

Dante had gone blond and Chloe had a few touches of grey and a new wardrobe of posh-mum clothes for the mission.

Chloe and the three teenagers did the half-day drive in the comfort of a Range Rover. James had a driving licence for the mission and despite Lauren protesting that he was a terrible driver who’d get them all killed, Chloe let James drive the last leg of the journey after a nice outdoor lunch at a gastro-pub just past Bristol.

Their home was a modern four-bed house a twenty-minute walk from the beach and the centre of Salcombe. The wealthy seaside town was chock full during the summer and the Security Services Emergency Relocation Bureau had paid a small fortune to rent the house and furnish it in a style that fitted in with their background story.

The family name was Raven. Chloe Raven, the divorced thirty-seven-year-old wife who’d moved away from London and an ex-husband who worked in the City. James was seventeen-year-old James Raven, a sixth-form student. Lauren Raven was James’ sister and in Year Eight. To avoid similarity with his birth identity Dante had become John Raven, and Lauren’s twin brother.

James was the biggest, so he helped carry Lauren and Chloe’s bags up to the first-floor bedrooms.

‘Your ladyship’s case,’ he said, when he saw Lauren lying on her bare mattress. She had a large room, with a balcony overlooking a landscaped garden.

‘Ta,’ Lauren grunted, scratching under her armpit.

‘You OK?’ James asked. ‘You’ve hardly said anything all day.’

‘I’m depressed,’ Lauren announced dramatically. James hadn’t seen his sister sulk like this since before their mum died.

‘You’ll sort it out with Rat,’ James said, trying to sound cheerful but not
too
cheerful. ‘You’ve had rows before.’

Lauren sat up sharply. ‘What makes you think I want to sort it out with him? He acted like a jealous dick.’

James grinned. ‘I’m not surprised, the way you were fawning over Dante.’

‘I
so
wasn’t,’ Lauren said indignantly. ‘You boys are all the same. You ogle girls, you have pictures of women with tits the size of footballs draped on your bedroom walls and then you accuse us of being sluts just because we speak to someone else.’

James was only trying to be nice and didn’t want to get involved with Lauren’s love life. ‘Whatever,’ he said. ‘I’m sure it’ll sort itself out one way or another.’

Lauren tutted and folded her arms across her chest as James backed out of the room. He saw Lauren’s other bag at the bottom of the stairs, but was buggered if he was carrying it up to her room if she was only going to shout at him.

‘Nice house, eh?’ Dante said, as he came into the hallway holding a cooler box filled with food for the kitchen. ‘You seen your bike, James? It doesn’t look too bad.’

‘Oh!’ James said excitedly. ‘I forgot, where is it?’

‘Garage,’ Dante said. ‘Chloe rolled the car in next to it.’

James rushed out the front door, passing Chloe who held a big carrier bag filled with wellies and umbrellas.

‘Can I give the bike a spin?’ James asked eagerly.

‘I was going to have a cup of tea and a biscuit,’ Chloe said. ‘Don’t you want anything?’

‘Just ten or fifteen minutes to get a feel for it,’ James begged.

‘Go on then,’ Chloe smiled. ‘Put your protective gear on and take things easy until you’re used to riding it.’

She broke out laughing as she walked into the house.

‘What’s funny?’ Dante asked.

‘You teenagers,’ Chloe explained. ‘One minute James is all cool and sophisticated, the next he’s beaming like a six-year-old on Christmas morning.’

‘James loves his bikes,’ Dante said, as he heard a little bike engine buzzing to life.

James had ridden a variety of motorbikes on a mission in America three years earlier. Terry Campbell had let him ride motorbikes around campus and over the past six days he’d had some intensive motorbike instruction on real roads. But this was the first time James had experienced the freedom of his own bike.

The 250cc Honda was a few years old and only had twenty-two horsepower, but powerful bikes are illegal for riders under twenty-one and the machine could still out-accelerate most cars and cruise comfortably at seventy-five miles an hour. What’s more, James had experienced larger bikes and in many ways a nippy 250cc was more fun on twisty British roads than the big beasts driven by gangs like the Brigands.

James whizzed up a gently sloping hill. The luxury houses on either side of the road were all part of the same upscale development. The street was a dead end, so James turned back and hit fifty miles an hour as he passed their house and swung out into a lane.

He drove half a mile, but was trapped behind a motor home plodding at a steady thirty miles an hour. The main road into central Salcombe was clogged with traffic, so he pulled on to a grass verge and turned around.

As he turned he recognised a large piece of land with a tasteless mock-Tudor house and a detached triple garage. James recognised it from a police surveillance photo, but he only twigged that it was the Führer’s house when he saw the house name
Eagles’ Nest
written in a heavy Germanic font on a wooden sign.

James rolled through a break in the traffic to take a peek down their target’s driveway. There was a rusty World War Two-era German light tank aiming its gun towards the street and a sign that read:
Trespassers will be shot
.

‘Subtle,’ James muttered to himself, as he opened the throttle and headed for home.

*

It was a warm evening. Chloe had no intention of cooking a meal after the long drive, so they headed into town. Dante’s head flooded with memories as they cruised Salcombe streets in the Range Rover. He saw low walls and post-boxes and remembered jumping out from behind them to surprise his mum when he was little. He remembered the baker’s where she’d buy sausage rolls and donuts and even recognised some of the older yachts bobbing on the quayside.

The road that once led up to the Brigands clubhouse hadn’t changed. Dante choked as he realised that the last time he’d been through here was on the night his parents had been killed.

‘You OK, Dante?’ Lauren asked.

‘Memories,’ Dante shrugged. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

‘I think it’s best if you start calling him John all the time,’ Chloe said. ‘We can go back if it’s too much for you, mate.’

Dante shook his head. ‘No way. I want to be
here
doing my job, not sitting around the house brooding.’

What was once the entry gate to the Brigands compound was now a curved concrete ramp that led towards parking spaces behind and beneath the long two-storey development called Marina Heights on their right. At street level there was a paved promenade –
no cyclists, no skateboarding
– populated with people taking an evening stroll. A dozen upmarket shops sold things like yachting accessories, surf boards and designer walking gear.