Under Cover (Agent 21) (23 page)

But Dmitri knocked Cole violently aside. He bent down and pulled Ricky up by his shoulders. Then he dragged him to the people-carrier and pressed him up against the side of the vehicle. Although his Russian accent was very strong, his English was excellent. He spoke slowly and very precisely so that Ricky could hear every word.

‘Understand this. You
will
tell me where those documents are. Either you do it freely, or we do it the other way. But believe me when I tell you, if we do it the other way, you will be begging to tell me where they are, and then you will be begging me to kill you. Now I’m going to ask you this question only once.
Where are the documents?
’

The question seemed to hang in the air between them and Ricky’s mind raced. He tried to put the pain of his bruised and bleeding body out of his head. To think straight. To make the right call.

It was impossible.

The world was spinning. His whole body was infused with a mixture of terror and pain. He looked across the warehouse and saw Izzy’s dad staring angrily at him. Suddenly Cole’s face seemed to change and he saw Izzy herself.

He knew it wasn’t really her. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him. But the image of Izzy gave him an encouraging smile. That smile, in turn, gave him a little bit of strength.

He heard himself speaking. ‘I don’t know where they are—’

Sudden, acute pain. Dmitri had thumped his fist against Ricky’s damaged cheekbone. He heard himself howling in agony and the world spun twice as fast. Nausea coursed through his body. He looked towards the image he had seen of Izzy Cole.

But she had changed . . .

It was very subtle, because Izzy and Madeleine looked so alike. But amid the confusion, the fear and the pain, Ricky could see his sister’s face, as clearly as if she was really alive.

He knew it was just an apparition, but it gave him some sort of strength. The easy thing would be to give up. But the consequences would be devastating. The Trident codes would be in the wrong hands. Four British agents would be as good as dead. And Jacob Cole would walk free, ready to bully and terrorize anyone and everyone as he saw fit.

What would Ricky’s sister think of him, if he allowed that to happen? If he thought only of himself, when there were more important things at stake?

– So Felix was right. ‘One day you might surprise yourself . . .’

And then the world stopped spinning. Cole was Cole again. Everything was clear. Ricky looked Dmitri straight in the eye. ‘You might as well kill me now,’ he said, ‘because I’m not going to tell you where they are.’

For a fraction of a second, Ricky saw a tiny shadow of doubt on Dmitri’s face. But it passed just as quickly. Dmitri grabbed a clump of his hair, yanked it forward and pushed Ricky down onto the floor yet again. He felt a heavy boot in the small of his back. Then he heard a noise he had learned to recognize: the dull clunking sound of Gregoriev cocking his handgun.

‘Wait!’

It was Dmitri who had spoken. He was talking English – Ricky realized that was for Cole’s benefit, not Ricky’s.

‘What’s that on his back?’

Ricky didn’t know what he was talking about. There was nothing on his back – not even his rucksack, which was lying in a heap several metres away from him.

He sensed Dmitri leaning over, then felt the Russian’s hand on his left shoulder.

He remembered something. The boy who had rescued him from the Happy Valley Café – Zak, was it? – had given him a friendly slap on that left shoulder just before they split. Ricky had thought it was weird at the time, but maybe . . .

He looked up. Dmitri was holding something. It was very small. Ricky would have confused it with one of those tiny, disc-shaped batteries if it hadn’t had a hook-shaped wire protruding from the centre. Dmitri held it up higher, as if examining a precious gemstone.

Then he said: ‘Someone is tracking us. Get out of here!
Get out!
’

But too late. Half a second later, the strip lighting overhead failed. The electric humming fell silent.

Total darkness.

There was a clattering of footsteps. He sensed that Cole and one of the Russians were running through the darkness towards the people-carrier. The second Russian – Ricky thought it was Dmitri – bent over to grab him by the scruff of his neck and pull him violently up to his feet . . .

A sudden explosion ripped through the warehouse. It didn’t come from the vehicle entrance Ricky and the Russians had used, but from the locked door at the opposite end. By chance, Ricky was facing that way. He saw a sudden orange flash as the door blasted inwards. In the middle of that flash was the silhouette of a person. Ricky couldn’t tell anything about them – whether they were male or female, young or old – but in that brief moment of vision he could tell this: the newcomer was armed. It looked to Ricky’s untutored eye like they were holding an assault rifle.

A moment later, the blast from the explosion knocked both Ricky and Dmitri back. The Russian lost hold of him as a cloud of dust and debris rained down on them. Ricky rolled away from his kidnapper, wincing as his bleeding hand pressed against something sharp on the ground. In the few seconds since the lights had gone out, Ricky’s eyes had grown slightly more used to the darkness. He could see the outline of Dmitri. He was down on one knee, gun arm outstretched, getting ready to fire.

It was another of those moments that was either very brave or very stupid. Ricky hurled himself at the Russian and collided sharply with his body, knocking him over before he could fire.

Just as their two bodies collided, Ricky heard a woman’s voice from the doorway. ‘
Flashbang!
’ she shouted.

Suddenly there was a second explosion – a huge cracking sound that split through the air and was like a spike in Ricky’s eardrums. A blinding flash accompanied it, as if a vast flash of lightning had struck inside the warehouse itself. Ricky was blinded, deafened and disorientated. He rolled away from Dmitri, clutching his head, trying to shake away the confusion. He needed to get out of there, but he wasn’t even sure he could stand up . . .

Footsteps. There was more than one person entering the room.

Ricky’s head was spinning. He needed to get to his feet. To get out of there . . .

A voice shouted: ‘
Stay down!
’ Ricky recognized it. It was the boy called Zak.

He hugged the floor, just as two gunshots rang out. They came from two different weapons – Ricky saw a spark from each one as they fired. And again, behind each spark, and despite his dazzled eyes, he could just make out the outline of a figure.

The two Russians started to scream. They’d been hit. Ricky kept low, his sight and senses gradually recovering. One of the figures ran right past him, and Ricky thought he could see that they were wearing some kind of headgear. He remembered Felix talking about night-vision goggles that allowed you to see in the dark. These figures were moving around as easily as if it was broad daylight. That had to be what they were wearing . . .

The woman’s voice again. ‘Cole! Get on the ground with your hands on your head, otherwise I shoot!’

Cole whimpered pathetically, and there was a scuffling sound. He was clearly doing exactly what he was told. The Russians were still howling with pain, and Ricky himself was feeling more than a little panicked. Who were these people? Friends? Enemies? Neither?

‘What’s happening?’ he yelled through the chaos. ‘
What the hell’s happening?
’

The overhead light returned. Ricky squinted painfully.

Then he looked round.

He had been right. There were three newcomers in the warehouse.

The first was a boy about Ricky’s age. To start with, Ricky couldn’t quite make out his features as he was indeed wearing night-vision goggles. So far as Ricky could tell he wasn’t armed, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He had Cole flat out on the ground, one arm bent up behind his back. In a single, deft move, he took a white plastic cable tie from his pocket and used this to bind Cole’s wrists tightly behind his back. Then he himself stood up and raised his goggles and Ricky saw that it was Zak.

Ricky zoned in on his companions. There was a man and a woman. They were also both removing their night-vision goggles. Ricky had seen the man before, with Zak at the café in Frith Street. He had blond hair and a grim, serious face. He was stowing the handgun into a holster strapped to his body. The woman had shoulder-length white-blonde hair. She too was familiar. Had he seen her when he’d stormed out of the apartment? She clearly felt the need to hold onto her gun as she walked up to the whimpering Dmitri.

Dmitri and his friend were bleeding heavily from their shoulders. They had clearly both been shot in the same place, and Ricky realized that this was exactly what the newcomers had wanted. They were sharp shooters, no question. The woman didn’t look too concerned by their dramatic-looking wounds, however. ‘You’ll live, sweetie,’ she told the Russian. ‘More’s the pity.’ She looked over at Ricky. ‘Hurt, Ricky?’ she asked him.

Ricky looked at his bleeding hand. ‘It’s . . . it’s nothing,’ he managed to say.

– She knows your name. She must be something to do with Felix . . .

‘Good.’

As she spoke, Dmitri had shuffled along the floor to where his handgun was lying and was reaching out to grab it. Ricky was about to scream ‘Look out!’ but he didn’t need to. The woman spun round, almost like a ballet dancer, and cracked her foot hard against Dmitri’s wrist. The Russian screamed again, but nobody paid him any attention. The woman picked up the loose gun and removed the magazine. The blond man did the same with Gregoriev’s gun. Then they tied the Russians’ hands behind their backs, just as Zak had done with Cole’s, ignoring their howls of pain and their bleeding shoulders as they did so.

While all this was happening, Ricky’s eyes darted around the warehouse.

– How did the lights turn on and off?

– Somebody must be operating the fuse board.

Which meant there had to be a fourth person.

Ricky looked towards the blasted-open door just in time to see Felix walk in.

Felix took in the scene of devastation with a single sweep of his head. Then his eyes fell on Ricky. He limped up to his former pupil, then held out one hand to help him up. But Ricky didn’t need his help. He struggled to his feet by himself.

‘Nice work, Coco,’ Felix said quietly.

Ricky looked over at the remains of his mobile phone, which Dmitri had crushed with his heel. ‘I had footage of Cole handing the code over to the Russians. I guess that’s the end of that.’

Felix strode over to the crushed phone and carefully picked up all the pieces. He carried them carefully back to Ricky. ‘You’ll be amazed at what we can retrieve from a damaged hard drive. My guess is that Jacob Cole is going to prison for a very long time. Thanks to you.’

‘I did it for Izzy,’ he said.

‘You did it by disobeying every rule in the book. But nice work, all the same.’

Ricky glanced across the room. The woman with the white-blonde hair was forcing the wounded Russians towards the people-carrier, where Cole had collapsed to his knees and had his head bowed.

‘Next time, though,’ Felix added, ‘maybe you should let people know what you’re doing. That was kind of close.’

‘There isn’t going to be a next time,’ Ricky said. ‘I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m lucky to be alive. Which is more than you can say for this guy in the café where they met.’ He felt himself trembling as he remembered the horror of that moment. ‘They killed him,’ he said hotly. ‘They put a gun to his head and
killed
him.’

‘I know,’ Felix said, ‘and I’m sorry you had to see that. But maybe there are people out there who you’ll stop meeting the same fate, if you complete your training.’

‘I’m just a kid,’ Ricky hissed.

Felix shook his head. ‘You haven’t been a kid for a long time, Ricky.’

Before Ricky could respond, Zak walked up to them. He had picked up Ricky’s rucksack, along with the picture and the letter. ‘Yours?’ he asked.

‘Thanks,’ Ricky muttered, accepting them.

‘I see you’ve met Agent 21,’ Felix said.

Ricky blinked. So
this
was the guy Felix had talked about.

‘Do you slap a tracking device on the shoulder of everyone you meet?’ Ricky asked. He knew he didn’t sound too friendly.

‘Only the ones I think might end up dead if I don’t,’ said Zak.

There was no time to reply. Suddenly, from somewhere in the distance outside the warehouse, came the sound of sirens. Police. Ricky, Felix, Zak and his two companions all turned to look at the vehicle entrance.

‘I’ll deal with them,’ Felix said. He turned to Ricky. ‘Well, I guess this is goodbye.’

‘I guess it is.’

‘I’ve one favour to ask. The codes – are they somewhere safe?’

Ricky nodded.

‘Go with Agent 21. Retrieve them and give them to him.’

Ricky couldn’t see a problem with that. He nodded again. And without looking back, he headed towards the door that just a few moments ago had been blasted in. Zak caught up with him, and together they left the warehouse.

They walked in silence round to the front of the warehouse. The sirens were much louder now, and Ricky suddenly saw two police cars screaming down the road of the industrial estate towards them.

‘Just keep walking in the opposite direction,’ Zak said. ‘They never notice kids like us. It’s like we’re invisible.’

‘Yeah,’ Ricky said bitterly. ‘I guess that’s what makes us so valuable.’

Zak gave a half-smile, but said nothing.

‘You’d been following me, hadn’t you? I saw you fixing your bike outside McDonald’s.’

‘Well spotted,’ Zak said. ‘Most people wouldn’t have noticed. Felix must have been teaching you well.’

‘I’m sure he’d like to think so.’

That smile again. It put Ricky on edge.

‘Who are the others?’ he asked. ‘The blonde woman and the guy?’

‘They’re my Guardian Angels,’ Zak said. ‘Like Felix is yours. We all have them. Their names are Raf and Gabs. Thanks to them, I’m still alive. I learn everything I can from them. I find I live longer that way.’ He paused. ‘But that doesn’t mean I always have to do what they say. Where are we going, by the way?’