Brigands M. C. (40 page)

After flipping out the light, Dante walked back towards the Führer and crouched in the doorway. The door wasn’t open far enough to give him a good shooting angle so he nudged it a few centimetres and the hinges creaked.

The Führer saw the movement out the corner of his eye, but attributed it to the breeze. As his attention turned back towards Nimitz Class carriers, Dante looked through the magnified sight and aligned the crosshairs over the Führer’s neck.

Dante pushed his shoulder up to the door and took a deep breath to steady his aim. Once the first bolt hit, he’d barge into the room and shoot the second through the Führer’s heart.

James took a twenty-mile detour on the way home, blasting down unlit lanes with the exhaust roaring and his single headlamp showing the way. He scared himself a couple of times and arrived home sweaty and exhilarated.

He felt mournful as he rolled his Kawasaki up the brick driveway and parked it in the double garage beside the Range Rover. He’d used the bike in conjunction with a secret identity, so even if he offered to buy the bike out of his savings there was no way he’d be allowed to keep it. And as James was only sixteen it might be a while before he got another shot at riding a motorbike, especially one as powerful as his ER5.

James stripped the riding gloves he’d bought at the Rebel Tea Party and the fancy carbon-fibre helmet Dirty Dave had given him three days earlier. The motorised garage door did its thing as James walked towards the front door, dipping into his jeans for a set of house keys. His nose caught something sweet and he smiled: one thing he wouldn’t miss was coming home tainted by the sweet steam that rose off hot crêpe batter.

‘That you James?’ Dante said, making him jump.

James looked up, then behind before realising that Dante was slumped against the wall in the brick corridor between the house and garage. There was enough light escaping from the bedrooms upstairs to see that he looked pretty sad.

‘You OK?’ James asked, as he noticed a small crossbow pistol resting on Dante’s lap. ‘Where’d you get that from?’

‘The Führer’s house,’ Dante explained. ‘You killed someone once, didn’t you?’

‘On my second mission,’ James nodded. ‘I snatched his gun. It was him or me.’

It was only as James said this that his brain linked Dante’s hatred of the Führer with the fact that Dante had visited the Führer’s house and the fact that he had a crossbow pistol loaded with deadly metal bolts in his hand.

‘Dante, what the
hell
have you done?’ James gasped.

‘He was home alone,’ Dante explained. ‘I broke in, found the Führer laying on his bed. Lined him up in the crosshairs and went to pull the trigger, but I dunno … It wasn’t in me.’

James exhaled with relief, but couldn’t find any words. He agreed with the principle that CHERUB didn’t go around assassinating people, but knew he’d feel differently if the Führer had killed
his
family.

‘I had it all worked out,’ Dante said. ‘I made sure I wore the same trainers that I had on at Joe’s party, so my shoe prints wouldn’t prove anything. By using the Führer’s own weapon and leaving it at the scene there’d be nothing you could trace back to me. Zara and Chloe would have suspected, but unless I’d been severely unlucky with an eye witness, they never would have proved a thing.’

‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ James said softly. ‘I still wonder about the bloke I shot. It really plays on your mind.’

Dante got out of the gravel and looked thoroughly disgusted with himself. ‘I’m weak,’ he said. ‘If there’s an afterlife, my dad’s sitting up there now with his head in his hands because he just found out that I’m the biggest chicken-shit coward that ever lived.’

As Dante turned away, a rolled-up photograph dropped out of his sweatshirt. James picked it up.

‘Don’t you want this?’ James asked.

‘Bin it,’ Dante said bitterly, as he walked towards the back garden.

James opened out the photo and saw that it was a Brigands barbecue. He recognised the Führer in the middle, with Joe standing proudly in front of him. Dante looked very different with short red hair, but the teenage girl on the edge of the picture looked remarkably like him.

‘You know, Dante,’ James said, as he followed the younger boy on to the back lawn, ‘maybe the reason you couldn’t pull the trigger wasn’t because you’re a coward. It’s not like shooting someone in the head is something to be proud of, is it?’

They’d kept their voices down to avoid being heard by the girls inside the house, but now Dante shouted. ‘James,
please
just leave me alone.’

‘You couldn’t kill the Führer because you’re a better person than he is,’ James explained. He held out the photo for Dante to see. ‘Look at your mum and your sister in this picture. Do you think they’d want you to be torturing yourself over revenge, or to get on with your life?’

James wondered if his argument sounded too sappy, but Dante stopped walking and snatched the picture back.

‘Give us that,’ Dante said, managing a half smile. ‘It’s weird looking at Lizzie and thinking that she’d be twenty-one now. And I only remember her as my bossy big sister, but when I look at this picture you can see she was dead sexy. She was really funny as well.’

James nodded. ‘You know the weirdest thing about being a cherub? We get to do all this great stuff and our lives are amazing compared to ordinary kids, but I reckon most of us would go back to our boring old lives if we had the chance.’

‘In an instant,’ Dante nodded. ‘And at least the Führer’s gonna get a shock the next time he goes into his study.’

‘The missing picture,’ James nodded.

‘Not just that,’ Dante smiled. ‘I fired a crossbow bolt between the eyes of his Hitler painting and scratched
Dante Scott is a Vengeful Bastard
into his desktop with my hunting knife.’

James smiled, then smiled some more as the complexity of this message sunk in. ‘If he thinks you’re part of the
Vengefuls
and he knows that you were walking around his house with a crossbow …’

‘I might be too chicken to blow the Führer’s brains out,’ Dante said ruefully. ‘But at least I’ve given him something to mull over.’

Twenty-four hours later James, Lauren and Dante were all back on campus. Friday night always had a good atmosphere and this one was better than usual because loads of kids on campus were flying off to CHERUB’s summer hostel the following Monday.

Just after five, Rat came back from playing tennis with Andy. He’d kicked off his trainers and was peeling a sweaty shirt over his head when Lauren erupted out of his wardrobe and screamed, ‘I’m back!’

Rat flew up in the air and jolted back towards his bed, before bursting out laughing. ‘You scared the living crap out of me,’ he gasped.

‘I got your text messages,’ Lauren said. She stood teasingly in front of Rat, so that her bust almost touched the beads of sweat running down his chest.

‘Pity you didn’t answer them then,’ Rat said frostily.

‘I reckon me and you have something pretty special going,’ Lauren grinned. ‘And besides, with my wrist in plaster I’ll need someone to carry my luggage on to the plane next week.’

‘And what makes you think I want you back?’ Rat sneered. ‘For all
you
know I’ve been having a torrid affair with some bimbo while you’ve been away.’

‘Two reasons,’ Lauren answered. ‘First of all, I’ve got spies all over campus. Second, what other girl would put up with your stupid hair?’

‘How can I turn down an offer like that?’ Rat smiled. ‘I’d kiss you but I’m all sweaty.’

‘There’s a fine line between manly ruggedness and BO,’ Lauren grinned, as she moved closer and pecked Rat on the lips. ‘Just this once I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.’

*

Two floors down James was sitting on the sofa in Kerry Chang’s room. He’d only been back on campus for two hours, during which time he’d managed a late lunch, a shower and a change into shorts and a CHERUB T-shirt.

Kerry smiled as she came out of her bathroom, towelling her long black hair, dressed in a matching white bra and knickers.

‘Third time lucky for us,’ James said. ‘That’s what I reckon.’

Kerry threw the towel back inside her bathroom as she sat on her bed. ‘So you never got up to anything on your mission?’

‘Nah,’ James shook his head. ‘Well, there was this girl Ashley, but she was just someone I made friends with and she was religious so I wouldn’t have got anywhere even if I’d wanted to.’

Kerry laughed and rubbed a hand against her duvet. ‘Why are you hiding over there on the sofa?’

James grinned as he stood up. ‘I feel like a drug addict. I’ve been cold turkey on Kerry Chang for almost two years, but now I’m about to start injecting again.’

Kerry burst out laughing. ‘So you’re saying I’m like a cheap fix?’

‘No,’ James grinned. ‘I’m saying you’re irresistible and highly addictive.’

‘Remember when we used to wrestle?’ Kerry said. ‘You used to get pissed off because I
always
won.’

‘I remember no such thing,’ James smirked. ‘Besides, back then I was only a few centimetres taller. Now I’m all butch and manly.’

Kerry thought this was hilarious. ‘Tell you what, big man,’ she grinned. ‘If you can pin me, you can do anything you like to me.’

James’ eyes boggled. ‘Does that include naked stuff?’

‘You’ve got to pin me first,’ Kerry said. ‘And of course, you’ve got to do whatever
I
want if you lose.’

‘You mean I’ll be your love slave?’ James checked.

Kerry smiled. ‘Is it a bet, or not?’

James had forgotten how playful Kerry could be and she looked really sexy, dressed just in her underwear.

‘Sure,’ James said. He was proud of his upper body so he ripped off his T-shirt and hurled it up in the air. ‘I won’t be needing that again for a couple of hours.’

Kerry got off her bed and dropped into a fighting stance, with James looming over her.

‘You
really
mean anything?’ James asked.

Kerry blew a kiss. ‘I’ll belong to you.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ James said excitably. He charged forward, trying to get Kerry around the waist. But she spun out of the way, hooked her foot around James’ trailing leg and tripped him over. Almost before James knew it, Kerry sat across his back with his neck in an agonising choke hold.

‘Same old, same old,’ Kerry said cheerfully. ‘All that bulk, but you still move like a geriatric snail.’

‘Christ,’ James gasped, as Kerry tightened the hold. ‘I can’t breathe.’

‘Do you know how much you hurt me when you dumped me?’ Kerry asked. ‘If you break my heart again James, I’ll break you.’

James had watched Kerry batter a man with a baseball bat while they were on work experience, so he knew what she was capable of.

‘I’m sorry,’ James whimpered. ‘For god’s sake. This
really
hurts.’

‘We might break up or fall out,’ Kerry continued. ‘That’s acceptable, but if you cheat on me again, you’re a dead man. So decide now whether you want to go out with me, but those are my terms.’

‘I’m more mature now,’ James whined. ‘Come on, let me go.’

‘Promise,’ Kerry said. ‘Or get the hell out of my room.’

‘OK, I promise,’ James said, then whooshed with relief as Kerry let his neck go. ‘Jesus, I’d forgotten how fast you are.’

Kerry laughed as she kissed the back of James’ neck and stood up. He rolled over and caught his breath as she stood astride him. James wondered if he was nuts to start going out with Kerry again, but as he looked up at smooth legs and swaying black hair he wanted her more than anything else in the world.

*

It was quarter past eight when Dante dragged a small mattress into his eighth-floor bedroom. His five-year-old sister Holly trailed behind. She had long red hair, wore CHERUB uniform and held a duvet which was bundled up so high that she could barely see over it.

‘How many nights can I stay in your room?’ Holly asked excitably, as Dante dropped the mattress on his floor.

‘You are such a worrier,’ Dante soothed. ‘Why don’t we just see how it goes? I expect you’ll want to go back with your friends in the junior block in a few days.’

‘If I have a bed in your room, and a bed in the junior block I can just sleep in whichever one I like,’ Holly suggested. ‘And you could come and sleep in my room sometimes.’

Dante smiled. ‘We’re going to the summer hostel in a few days, anyway.’

Holly threw her duvet out over the mattress, and grabbed the pyjamas that had been rolled inside as Dante lobbed a pillow at her head.

‘Oi!’ Holly giggled. ‘You hooligan.’

‘Do you need help getting undressed?’ Dante asked.

Holly looked at her brother like he was a Martian. ‘I’m five,’ she said indignantly.

‘Sorry,’ Dante said. ‘I haven’t seen you properly for ages. Last summer you got your giant head stuck every time you tried taking your shirt off.’