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Authors: Robert Muchamore

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Kuban smiled and raised one eyebrow. ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’

17. PUSH

Ryan watched from his bedroom as Gillian Kitsell blasted through the beach community’s security gates in a Ferrari 458. Ryan’s approach to Ethan had to look casual, though he’d been planning it all weekend. He’d even done role play with Amy, working out strategies to steer the conversation towards things they needed to know.

It was a hundred metres across the beach to house five. Ryan peered in through the huge front windows. The layout was identical to house eight, where he’d been staying. The furniture looked top-notch, but there were clothes and dirty crockery everywhere, spoiling the effect.

Ethan’s voice came from high up, by the rooftop pool. ‘You looking for me?’

Ryan stepped back so that he could see. Ethan leaned over a railing, with his left arm in a cast.

‘Heard you got out of the hospital,’ Ryan explained. He didn’t want their meeting to take place outside, so he let the sentence hang.

‘I’ll meet you by the front door,’ Ethan said. ‘Mum says I’ve gotta thank you.’

Ryan pondered Ethan’s words as he walked to the front door.
Meet you by the front door
sounded OK, but
Mum says I’ve got to thank you
didn’t exactly sound like Ethan was grateful, or keen to make friends.

Guilt reared up when Ryan saw Ethan on the doorstep. His skinny legs were a mass of bruises and cuts, some of which had been stitched. The most impressive examples were bruises shaped like tyre tread across his thigh.

‘Car one, Ethan zero,’ Ethan said, breaking into a smile. ‘It’s good of you to come around. Doc said I might have ended up a drooling vegetable if you hadn’t got me breathing so quick.’

‘Just been down for a swim in the sea,’ Ryan said, as he tucked his hands under his armpits and faked a shiver. ‘Can’t believe how cold it’s getting.’

‘Wind off the ocean starts getting cold this time of year,’ Ethan said. ‘You wanna come inside for a second?’

Ryan kept his expression to a slight smile and a nod, but on the inside he was whooping it up like he’d thrown the touchdown that won the Superbowl.

‘I think you should fire your maid,’ Ryan said, as he walked to the kitchen, stepping over coffee cups and newspapers. Ethan’s bruises left him creeping about like an old man.

‘Mum’s got a thing about security,’ Ethan explained. ‘Says maids steal and stuff, plus with her business and all …’

Ryan bit at the opening. ‘What’s her business?’

‘Computer security,’ Ethan explained. ‘You look pretty cold, you want a warm drink?’

‘Got any tea?’

Ethan laughed as they reached the kitchen. ‘English people drink heaps of tea, don’t they? I think we only have coffee.’

‘Whatever’s warm and wet,’ Ryan said, as he rubbed his hands together.

The kitchen was on a grand scale, like the rest of the house. There was a built-in coffee machine, but Ethan didn’t seem sure how it worked, and having one arm in plaster didn’t help.

‘I never use it,’ Ethan said apologetically. ‘Hate coffee.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Ryan said. ‘Everything at our place is identical.’

‘Why no school today?’ Ethan asked.

‘Asthma,’ Ryan said – they’d picked asthma because Ethan suffered too, giving them another potential opening for a conversation. ‘My sister had to call the doctor out in the night. I haven’t had an attack in years. Doctor said it might be stress: moving to a new country, new school, plus seeing what happened to you.’

‘Hate asthma,’ Ethan said. ‘Freaks you out when you can’t breathe. But same as you, I’ve barely had it since I was eight or nine.’

‘It was mild as,’ Ryan said. ‘But the doctor said rest and I’ll milk it for all it’s worth. I hate Twin Lakes Middle, I don’t know anyone.’

‘Is that girl who goes out on the surfboard your sister?’ Ethan asked. ‘I thought she might be your mom, or stepmom.’

‘Amy’s my half-sister. Twelve years older than me,’ Ryan said.

Ethan grabbed a can of orange juice from the fridge, and looked slightly embarrassed. ‘No offence, but your sister’s a
total
babe.’

‘I’ll take it as a compliment,’ Ryan said. ‘You should ask her out, she totally digs scrawny twelve-year-olds who are into chess.’

Ethan burst out laughing. ‘I wish,’ he said. ‘You might as well have a seat.’

Ryan picked up his coffee and followed Ethan into the lounge area. The tide was in and waves crashed less than thirty metres from the house. The two boys slumped on to sofas, and Ryan drew comfort from Ethan’s relaxed body language.

‘I think my dad
might
fancy your mum actually,’ Ryan said. ‘She knocked on our door Friday night to tell us how you were doing and he was totally sucking up to her.’

‘He’d be barking up the wrong tree with my mum,’ Ethan said. ‘She’s had a few partners over the years. There was Auntie Theresa, Auntie Helen, Auntie Maritza from Brazil.’

‘Guess it’s back to online dating for my dad then,’ Ryan laughed, as he sipped his coffee. ‘So you’re the only one home?’

‘Yeah,’ Ethan said. ‘Mum was gonna work from home, but she’s making such a fuss over me and she has this big meeting. So I was like,
go, go, get outta here
. All I need to survive is Pepsi, Pop-Tarts and painkillers.’

‘No other family at all?’ Ryan asked.

Ethan shook his head. ‘My mum’s family all come from the back of beyond. You ever seen that Borat movie? She says it’s like that – tin huts, horses and carts and shit.’

‘What country is it?’ Ryan asked. He already knew Ethan was talking about Kyrgyzstan, but was intrigued to know how much Ethan knew, or would admit to knowing.

‘Some ex-Soviet republic,’ Ethan said. ‘Mum gets really cagey if you ask her about it.’

‘You’ve never been over there?’

‘Nah,’ Ethan said. ‘I’ve met my grandma in Dubai a couple of times, but my uncles and my granddad basically disowned Mum because of the gay thing.’

‘Your mum must have shagged at least one bloke for you to pop out though,’ Ryan said, wondering if he was starting to push too hard with the questioning.

‘My dad was a sperm donor,’ Ethan said. ‘But don’t spread
that
at school. It’s bad enough being the chess-playing robot-building geek with the fat best friend, without mixing in lesbian-mom-test-tube-baby shit.’

‘At least you’ve got one more friend than me,’ Ryan said.

‘You’ll make friends,’ Ethan said. ‘You’re a cool guy. I know for a
fact
that Brittany fancies you.’

The idea of a girl fancying him threw Ryan off track. ‘Is she the one with the pink braces, in our high set maths group?’

Ethan nodded. ‘Has that tight skirt with the camel thingies on it. Yannis lives next door to her and her grandma.’

‘Nice tip-off,’ Ryan said, smiling. ‘Brittany’s fit.’

Ryan felt good as he drained his cup of coffee. He’d always suspected Ethan would be more talkative if he could catch him when Yannis wasn’t around, but he hadn’t expected him to be such a little gossip.

‘I’ll tell you something funny, but you’ve got to
swear
not to tell anyone else,’ Ethan said.

Ryan laughed. ‘How can I say no with a build-up like that?’

‘OK,’ Ethan said, taking a deep breath. ‘I slept over at Yannis’ place during summer break. So I’m in his room and I find this pair of girls’ knickers. First of all he’s like
yeah I had a girl in my room
. And he’s giving me all this bullshit about how it was his hot fourteen-year-old cousin. But I know he’s lying. I’ve known Yannis since we were about seven and he ain’t got no cousin. So after bugging him forever, I finally get him to confess that they’re Brittany’s.’

‘You what?’ Ryan gasped.

‘I swear to God,’ Ethan said. ‘The fat perv snuck into her garden and stole Brittany’s frilly pinks from the washing line.’

Ryan laughed so hard he clutched his sides. ‘What a sicko,’ he screamed. ‘Maybe I can sell him a pair of Amy’s for fifty bucks.’

Ethan howled with laughter. ‘Do you think Yannis puts them on?’

The mental image of Yannis’ fat body dressed in girls’ underwear was more than Ryan could take.

‘Laughing so hard I’m gonna die,’ Ryan snorted.

‘Hurts my arm,’ Ethan said, laughing helplessly. ‘Jesus Christ. Imagine if you could get a picture of that. I bet you’d vomit just looking at it.’

A couple of minutes passed before either of them calmed down enough to say anything coherent, and even then they kept getting attacks of the giggles.

‘You wanna do something?’ Ryan asked. ‘I know your arm is screwed, but we’re both just kicking around. I’ve got a PS3 at my place.’

‘Can’t,’ Ethan said. ‘Can’t move my fingers properly with the cast, but we’ve got a cinema room downstairs. Wanna watch a Blu-ray or something?’

18. BULBOUS

Kuban had slapped Ingrid, punched her in the face, banged her head against the table and bent back her fingers. Sometimes Ning looked up, but mostly she stared down at the floor. Her hands were numb from being cuffed, she felt nauseous and badly needed to pee, but was scared to ask.

‘I was in the British Army,’ Ingrid shouted defiantly.

Kuban looked at the two burly henchmen. ‘Stand her up.’

Ingrid twisted and grabbed the desk, but she couldn’t stop them. As the men held Ingrid in place, Kuban thumped her hard in the stomach. Ingrid groaned and stumbled, but the men kept her upright.

‘Anything to say?’ Kuban asked.

‘Yeah,’ Ingrid said. ‘Bite me.’

Kuban looked angry as he took a folding knife from his trouser pocket. ‘Grab her hair, keep the head still.’

Ning felt sick as Kuban made two deep slashes across Ingrid’s cheek. He then took a small squeezy bottle from his pocket and squirted fluid over Ingrid’s face.

‘Lemon juice,’ Kuban said, smiling as he licked his fingertips. ‘Yummy!’

Ingrid groaned and twisted about, trying to free an arm to rub her burning eyes.

‘Everyone breaks,’ Kuban said firmly. ‘You can end this now.’

‘Not for you,’ Ingrid shouted. ‘Never.’

‘Your defiance impresses nobody,’ Kuban spat. ‘Sit her back in the chair.’

As the two henchmen dragged Ingrid towards the desk, she surprised them by lifting up both legs. Ingrid was heavy, and as the man holding her right arm stumbled she freed her left arm and knocked him down with a well-aimed punch on the nose.

Ning had never completely believed that Ingrid had been in the British Army, but you only threw a punch like that if you’d had some kind of training. As the man stumbled back with a bloody nose, Ingrid broke free and charged the desk. She grabbed the MacBook by its screen and threw it as hard as she could at Kuban.

The laptop’s hinge snapped as it crashed against the mirrored wall. As Ning dived forward so that it didn’t crash down on her head, Ingrid flipped the desk over.

But her freedom didn’t last. One of the henchmen grabbed her around the neck as Kuban threw the desk out of his way then punched her in the mouth. The blow caused a mild concussion and Ingrid’s head drooped as the henchman dragged her two steps back and dumped her into a chair.

The teenage lad stood by, looking anxiously at the MacBook. ‘It’s smashed. The boss won’t like this.’

‘He won’t find out,’ Kuban said, sounding a little shaky. ‘We’ll put it back in the cupboard and get another one.’

Ingrid laughed dozily as her head rolled from side to side. Kuban joined the teenager crouching over the laptop.

‘Maybe there’s a workshop at the market that can fix it,’ the henchman who’d been punched suggested.

Kuban stood up furiously and shook the busted MacBook screen in the air. ‘You can’t fix this, dummy.’ he shouted. ‘It’s ruined.’

The door flew open. Kuban spun around, ready to yell at someone for not knocking, but when he saw who it was he backed up to the desk with an expression like he’d just swallowed a turd.

‘Mr Aramov,’ Kuban said. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

Leonid Aramov was touching forty, with long black hair and a physique pumped by weight training. He ignored Kuban and stepped straight up to Ingrid. She couldn’t see because her eyes were streaming, but she knew his voice.

‘Might have known you were behind this,’ Ingrid spat.

Leonid cracked a mean smile. ‘You looked prettier the first time we met, dancing around a pole with no clothes on.’ His tone became more aggressive when he looked at Kuban. ‘Tell me you have something.’

‘It will take time,’ Kuban said. ‘She’s determined, but they all break.’

Leonid jabbed Kuban in the chest with his pointing finger. ‘I hear you fell asleep in the Kremlin lounge.’

‘The flight was delayed. You know I’ve had this flu—’

Before Kuban could finish, Leonid swung his massive arm and punched him in the gut.

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