CHERUB: Maximum Security (29 page)

James spotted them emerging through the revolving doors a couple of minutes later. Both kids dropped down in their seats, so they were out of sight, as Bill led the way out into the rows of cars. He stopped when he reached a shabby yellow Nissan that looked like a retired taxi. He stepped back to read the registration plate, then fumbled around under the front wheel arch until he located an ignition key.

James was feeling tense. He jumped out of his skin as John opened the driver’s door beside him.

‘Look in the glove box,’ John said, as he slammed the door and pulled his seatbelt across his chest. ‘Get the best map you can find. Try to keep track of where we are and remember the names of shops and landmarks as you pass them. In any pursuit, you must be able to accurately relay your position to other cars.’

James nodded, as he rummaged through the glove box for a map. As John pulled away, he passed Warren walking briskly towards the other car.

Theo’s voice broke out over the radio. ‘I’m looking out of the hotel window. I see a yellow Nissan pulling right. Over.’

John pointed at the microphone. ‘You work the radio, James.’

James picked up the plastic microphone and looked unsure what to say.

‘Just tell him we’re on it,’ John said.

*

By the time Marvin had sprinted across Boise airport to the taxi rank and arrived back at the Star Plaza, an ambulance crew was on the scene to deal with Eugene. Marvin hurled money at the cab driver, and rushed off without getting change. As he pulled his car out of its spot, Marvin asked for a fix on Bill and Curtis over the radio.

‘This is car F. We’re eight miles ahead, on route sixteen, heading southwest,’ James replied.

Bill clearly didn’t want to risk getting pulled over for speeding and kept the yellow Nissan dead on the limit, enabling Marvin to catch up with John and Warren.

Marvin and Warren had been trained in pursuit driving on the opposite side of the Atlantic to John, but the basic technique is the same wherever you learn. The lead car kept the yellow Nissan in sight. The second car held back between a quarter and half a mile, ready to continue the chase if the suspect made a sudden manoeuvre and fooled the driver of the first car. The third car followed another mile behind that. To minimise suspicion, the cars switched positions every fifteen to twenty minutes.

An hour and a half after leaving Boise, they’d passed into the state of Oregon and were travelling northwest on a busy section of interstate towards Baker City.

Lauren’s voice broke across the radio from the lead car. James was dead impressed by how professional she sounded. ‘Yellow Nissan is off at Rouge Court Motor Inn. That’s Rouge Court Motor Inn. We have passed the exit, but can come around if needed.’

‘Negative,’ Marvin answered. ‘Pull up somewhere a few miles ahead and keep the engine running. We might need you later. I’m gonna pull in after them. John, I need backup. I want you to pull up short and try to cover me from the side.’

A mile and a half sounds a long way to hang back, but at seventy miles an hour it only took John a minute to reach the Rouge Court. The motel formed part of a strip, along with a burger joint, diner and gas station. John rolled up in front of the diner. They jumped out of the car and crouched behind some bushes overlooking the Rouge Court parking lot. James had nothing but a T-shirt covering his top half, so he tucked his hands under his armpits to ward off the cold.

‘Have you still got the Glock?’ John asked.

James nodded, as he pulled it from the elastic of his tracksuit pants. John swapped it for his revolver. ‘I might need the extra firepower.’

Bill stood in front of a locked glass door, ringing a buzzer to try and get into the motel reception. Marvin couldn’t get out of his car, in case Bill recognised him from the airport shuttle ride. Curtis sat in the front seat of the yellow Nissan, with his elbow resting on the ledge of the open window.

James heard the door of one of the motel rooms clunk shut. The woman who emerged was dressed in a pink T-shirt, with big glasses and a towel around her hair, like she’d just washed it. Her mules scraped along the damp pavement with every step she took.

She was almost level with the yellow Nissan, when James recognised the glasses from the photograph he’d seen in the visitors’ room at Arizona Max.

‘It’s her,’ James whispered, nudging John excitedly. ‘Jane Oxford.’

‘I don’t think so,’ John said, shaking his head.

By the time John had finished denying it, Curtis had jumped out of the car and wrapped his arms around her.

‘Holy
cow
,’ John stuttered, grabbing his walkie-talkie out of his jacket. ‘Warren, Marvin, I’m eyeballing Jane Oxford
right
now. Get over here.’

A shout came at James and John from behind. ‘Hey, what you hidin’ down there for?’

It was the cook from the diner, a greasy man dressed in an even greasier apron. Curtis and Jane both turned towards the shout. It left John with no option but to move immediately.

‘Cover the door of her motel room,’ John said urgently. ‘She might have backup in there.’

James clicked the safety off the revolver. John leapt out of the bushes and fired a shot into the back of the yellow Nissan to make it clear he meant business.

‘FBI,
freeze
.’

John closed Jane and Curtis down, looking nervously from side to side, with the gun held in a two-handed grip.

Marvin and Bill both heard. Bill pulled his gun from its holster and headed around the corner to Jane’s rescue, not realising that an FBI agent was emerging from a car behind him. Marvin had never struck James as the kind of man who stood any nonsense and he proved it by pulling his gun and shooting Bill twice in the back, without even bothering to shout a warning.

Marvin snatched Bill’s gun, as he stepped over the bleeding man and rounded the corner to the yellow Nissan.

‘This is turning into a real good morning’s work,’ Marvin grinned, unhooking the set of handcuffs on his belt as he closed in on Jane.

James kept one nervous eye on the door of Jane’s motel room, and the other on Curtis, trying to read his face. No sane person would make a run for it with two guns pointing at them from close range, but that didn’t take account of Curtis’ suicidal tendencies.

While John covered him with the Glock, Marvin made Jane Oxford take her hands off her head and fixed a set of cuffs over her wrists.

‘Look at that,’ Marvin said smugly, as he squeezed them on. ‘Perfect fit.’

Jane lashed her head around and spat down the lapel of Marvin’s suit. Marvin furiously lifted Jane into the air and thumped her down on the hood of the Nissan. While pinning Jane with one hand, he unhooked a can of pepper spray from his belt and held it in her face.

‘Don’t make me use this,’ Marvin said firmly.

Angered by what was happening to his mother, Curtis made a sudden lunge towards John. James’ heart jumped, knowing John only had to pull on the trigger to tear Curtis apart. But John had no intention of using a gun on an unarmed fourteen-year-old. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Curtis’ waist and bundled him backwards on to the damp tarmac. The boy thrashed around, letting out a giant moan, as John zipped a set of disposable plastic cuffs over his wrists.

By the time Warren rolled on to the forecourt, Jane and Curtis were cuffed up in the back of Marvin’s car. While Warren leaned over Bill and used his cellphone to call an ambulance, James crept around the bushes and climbed in the back of the Volvo behind his sister.

Lauren glanced over her shoulder. ‘It looks like Jane’s crying.’

‘Good,’ James said sourly. ‘She wanted us dead. I hope she burns in hell.’

‘I feel sorry for Curtis though.’

‘Poor sod’s not all there, is he?’ James said. ‘Those drawings he ripped up were fantastic.’

Lauren clambered over the armrest between the two front seats and crashed next to James in the back. She rested her head against James’ shoulder as he put an arm around her back.

After all James and Lauren had been through, the scene they overlooked was an anti-climax: a quiet car park, three cops, two suspects cuffed in the back of a car and a man lying unconscious on the ground. When the manager of the motel emerged from reception, he had the resigned look of someone who’d seen it all before.

‘Are you OK?’ James asked, pulling his rather sad-looking sister a little tighter.

‘My tummy still hurts, from earlier,’ Lauren said. ‘It’s all a bit of a let-down really.’

James looked confused. ‘We caught Jane Oxford, what more do you want?’

‘I don’t know … I guess I was expecting a big shoot-out, or something.’

‘Fancied some blood and guts, eh?’ James smiled. ‘Helicopters chasing us down the road firing machine guns, and cigar-chomping mercenaries with strings of ammo around their necks.’

‘Yeah,’ Lauren giggled. ‘And it all ends up at Jane Oxford’s mountain lair, where we find the stolen weapons and blow them all up. Diving out of the way seconds before a ball of flame erupts from the mouth of a cave.’

James nodded. ‘And I get to rescue a whole bunch of hottie cheerleaders, who Jane was holding hostage. The two best looking ones give me their cellphone numbers …’

‘Trust
you
,’ Lauren tutted. ‘Of course, my hair would remain perfect throughout.’

‘If only we lived in the movies,’ James sighed, straightening up his grin. ‘Seriously though, the only thing that matters is that we captured Jane without any good guys getting hurt.’

Lauren nodded. ‘Do you think they’ll find the missiles, now they’ve caught her?’

‘Hopefully,’ James shrugged. ‘We’ve done our bit. I’m just looking forward to going home and chilling out. Kerry should be back by now.’

‘Will you tell her about Becky?’

‘Not if I can help it. You know what her temper’s like, she’d break my legs.’

‘Oh,’ Lauren said.

James sounded anxious. ‘You’re not gonna spoil everything by grassing on me are you?’

‘I suppose not,’ Lauren sighed, ‘seeing as you’re my brother. But I still think you’re a dirtbag. You don’t deserve someone as nice as Kerry for a girlfriend.’

After twenty hours of cars, aeroplanes, airport terminals, a train into town and a mini-bus ride to campus, James was a wreck. His joints ached, like every drop of liquid had been sucked out of his body and replaced with chewing gum and he was so desperate for sleep his eyes felt like lead balls.

Lauren made the journey worse. She pulled off her usual trick of sleeping effortlessly, while James twisted in his economy-class seat, suffering through two dreadful romantic comedies.

It was past noon when they arrived back at campus. James ignored Lauren’s exuberant pleas to help her unpack the boxes that had been piled up in her new quarters for nearly a month. He went to his room, stripped to his boxers, buried himself under his duvet and fell asleep inside two minutes.

*

James woke four hours later with muddy fingertips sweeping across his cheek.

‘I thought I’d better wake you up,’ Kerry said softly, as she sat down on the edge of James’ bed. ‘If you sleep for too long now, you won’t be tired tonight and you’ll still be jet-lagged tomorrow.’

James yawned, as he sat up in his bed. ‘What time is it?’

‘Quarter to five. I just finished football practice.’

James rubbed his eyes and couldn’t help smiling as he took his first proper look at his girlfriend in three months. Kerry had done some growing up, and even with shin pads and streaks of mud on her legs, James thought she looked beautiful. He leaned forward and they exchanged a long kiss.

‘I smell all sweaty,’ Kerry said, when she eventually pushed James away.

‘I don’t care,’ James said, moving in for another kiss. ‘I like your smell.’

‘Well, I don’t much like yours,’ Kerry said, with a tiny hint of sharpness. ‘You smell like that horrible air freshener they spray on aeroplanes.’

‘Do I?’ James asked, raising his arm and sniffing his pit. ‘That’s pretty nasty, actually.’

‘You’re a class act, James,’ Kerry grinned as she stood up. ‘Oh … You didn’t notice,’ she added, pulling her T-shirt down over her football shorts.

James stared at Kerry’s breasts bulging out of the T-shirt. ‘Of course I noticed, they’re miles bigger than they were before.’

Kerry stepped forward and whacked him across the shoulder. ‘
God
, is that all you boys ever think about?’

James grinned guiltily. ‘Pretty much.’

‘What about my T-shirt?’ Kerry said indignantly. ‘The
colour
of my T-shirt?’

‘Oh,’ James gasped. ‘You got the navy T-shirt, congratulations!’

‘Thank you,’ Kerry grinned sweetly as she headed for the door. ‘I’m gonna have a shower, then I’ll see you downstairs for dinner.’

*

The dining hall was packed when James got downstairs. He passed Lauren and Bethany, who were sitting amongst a group of the youngest grey-shirt kids, making a racket. James queued up and picked spaghetti Bolognese, salad and chocolate trifle, before heading across to the tables where his friends always sat.