CHERUB: People's Republic (19 page)

Ning smiled. ‘Yes, good. I have more than enough money. I know Maks, he was co-pilot when I flew here.’

‘He flies Plzen tomorrow. You pack things. I set alarm to four in morning and drive you.’

It was already late evening and Ning felt sad. It would be impossible to live her life cooped up in Dan’s tiny apartment, but she felt safe here and part of her wished that she could.

*

Dan stopped his battered Lada on a gravel track. The sky was dark, but a bluish glow rose from the runway of the Aramov Clan’s landing strip in the valley below.

‘Follow path,’ Dan explained. ‘Steep, be careful. At bottom you see three broken aircraft. Keep from sight until Maks come. He light cigarette when is safe for you. He want three thousand dollar. You have it ready, yes?’

‘All counted out,’ Ning said.

Her eyes glazed with tears as she leaned across from the passenger seat and gave Dan a hug.

‘I owe you my life,’ she said. ‘You are very kind and very brave.’

Dan smiled and looked emotional. ‘I think you more brave: no other girl dare wash my dirty underwear.’

Ning laughed as she kissed Dan on the cheek.

‘I will try to call your mobile when I am safe,’ Ning said. ‘And I give you two thousand dollars.’

Dan raised his hands. ‘Your money, I no want.’

Ning smiled. ‘No choice,’ she said. ‘I leave in your room, under mattress. Buy new curtains.’

They gave each other a final hug, before Ning grabbed her pack off the back seat and set off down the path. The light from the runway gave a rough idea where to place her feet, but the path was steeper than she’d imagined and it was hard on her broken toe, because the downward slope meant every step pushed her foot towards the front of her trainer.

Maks sat on the deflated tyre of a tailless Antonov cargo plane. He seemed relaxed as he puffed a cigarette and counted his three thousand dollars. At the same time, Ning eyed an approaching convoy comprising an E-Class Mercedes and a pair of bashed-up minibuses with luggage lashed to roof racks. All three vehicles had Chinese number plates.

‘The count is good,’ Maks said, as he pocketed the money. ‘When you get to the plane you go to the back. Sit in the single seat. Avoid speaking and do not give your name.’

‘Dan bought books for me in the market,’ Ning said. ‘I’ll read. How long is the flight?’

‘Eight hours, including a stop in Volgograd to refuel. In Plzen , I will take you through customs then put you in a taxi, to meet a lady called Chun Hei.’

Ning looked confused. ‘Dan said you’d go with me.’

‘
Nyet, nyet!
’ Maks said, shaking his head. ‘I am the pilot. I must fly back here after one or two hours. Don’t worry, you will be safe.’

Ning’s ride was a thirty-five-year-old, ex-Soviet Antonov AN-24. As the fifty-seat turboprop made regular trips into the Czech Republic, it had to meet European safety standards and looked in much better shape than the junk heap that had taken her out of China. The hull was painted white with red and gold stripes – the Kyrgyz national colours – and
Clanair
was stencilled along the side.

As Ning neared the aircraft she followed Maks through a forty-strong scrum, trying to cram their stuff into the plane’s hold. Apart from a smartly-attired couple who’d emerged from the Mercedes, the passengers were all women aged from mid-teens to early twenties.

They were a mix of Chinese and North Koreans. The Chinese girls had accents from impoverished Sichuan and Qinghai provinces. They wore bright clothes, had wheeled suitcases and squealed like they were on a school outing. The Koreans were quieter, wore drab clothes and kept their few possessions in old-fashioned suitcases or vinyl shopping bags.

The one thing all the women had in common was beauty. Some were small and curvaceous, others tall and catwalk thin, but there wasn’t a moustache, pug nose, missing tooth, saggy breast or flabby stomach amongst the whole lot of them.

Ning had learned a lot by watching and reading all the news about her stepfather’s human smuggling operation. She shuddered as she realised she was standing amidst Grade-A human stock, destined for the European sex trade.

Until now Ning had consoled herself with the thought that her stepfather’s arrest had at least saved thousands of young women from suffering, but apparently the trade in pretty girls was getting along fine without him.

A Kyrgyz customs official stood at the bottom of the steps into the plane. The women all had to hand him a small amount of Chinese or Kyrgyz currency before he’d inspect their passports and put a stamp inside. Ning worried that she only had dollars, but Maks gestured like he was raising a drink to his mouth and the official let her through without even opening her passport.

Ning passed the wealthy couple who had a row at the front with extra legroom, then did as Maks instructed, finding the single windowless seat at the back of the plane. There was a small galley alongside, but the fridges, ovens and water heaters had been stripped out, leaving holes which had been stuffed with litter.

After tossing her backpack into the luggage rack above her head and tucking Kyrgyz and Chinese passports inside her jeans, Ning fastened her seatbelt. The North Korean girls were boarding and gawped at the interior of the plane as if it was an alien mothership. They didn’t start sitting down until a big-arsed stewardess yelled in Korean.

Ning rested her head against the curved fuselage. She tried not to think about Dan because she was sure she’d start crying. Everything around her felt corrupt and dirty and after all she’d been through in the past ten days, this felt like the natural state of things.

She hoped it would get better when she landed in Europe, but she wasn’t confident that it would.

23. PLZEN

Monday was Ethan’s first day back at school and Ryan hung out with him most of the day. Yannis had grudgingly accepted Ryan, partly because it was also Guillermo’s first day back from suspension and Ryan provided physical protection, but mostly because Ethan made it clear that he liked Ryan and was going to speak to him whether Yannis liked it or not.

Yannis and Ethan had chess club after school.

‘You can come along,’ Ethan said, as the trio rolled out of last period English class.

Yannis jumped at an opportunity to swat Ryan down. ‘Mr Spike won’t let him join this late in the term,’

Ethan laughed. ‘He won’t care. We’ve only got twelve members, and half never turn up.’

Ryan had to learn about Ethan’s background by spending as much time as possible with him. Normally he’d have said yes, but he’d woken with a scratchy throat that morning and over the day it had morphed into a full-blown cold, complete with bunged-up nose and thudding headache.

‘I’m getting the bus home,’ Ryan said. ‘I feel crappy and can’t play chess to save my life. I always forget how the horsey moves.’

‘You mean the knight,’ Yannis said, missing the fact that Ryan was making a joke.

Ethan smiled. ‘Don’t want your germs anyway,’ he said. ‘Expect I’ll see you at the bus stop tomorrow if you’re feeling better.’

‘Expect I’ll be in,’ Ryan said. ‘I usually shrug colds off fast.’

Ethan couldn’t easily carry his backpack with his broken arm in a cast, and Yannis looked delighted as he grabbed it and headed upstairs to chess club.

Ryan’s beachfront house was a fifteen-minute drive by car, but the school bus detoured to drop kids off at every housing development so it took nearer forty minutes for Ryan to get home.

‘Hey, Amy,’ Ryan croaked, as he leaned into the kitchen.

Amy sat on a stool reading through a slab of TFU briefing documents.

‘Oooh, you sound rough,’ she said, as she stood up and put her hand on Ryan’s forehead. ‘You’re burning up. You want me to drive to the drug store and get you something?’

‘Nah,’ Ryan said. ‘I’ve got paracetamol in my medical pack upstairs. I’m gonna swallow a couple and soak in a hot bath.’

‘Drink some orange juice,’ Amy said. ‘Vitamin C is good for colds.’

‘Are Ted and Dr D back yet?’

Amy looked at her watch. ‘Their flight from Dallas should have landed by now. They’ll be in by dinnertime, which is roast chicken before you ask.’

Ryan headed upstairs to his room. It wasn’t like CHERUB campus was a dump, but it would definitely seem like a comedown when this mission ended. His room was at the end of the second floor, with a balcony overlooking the sea, ten metres of wardrobes and a giant bed with a huge circular tub at its foot. Most impressively, Ryan could dial in his required bath temperature, press a button and a torrent would fill the tub in under three minutes.

As he soaked he watched a dumb police-chase show on a Bang & Olufsen LCD. Amy brought up a tray with orange juice, peppermint tea and some buttered toast.

‘If you’re gonna be sick this is
definitely
the way to do it,’ Ryan said, as Amy turned out the pockets of his dirty school clothes.

Ryan finally got out when he started to look like a raisin, but he could only be bothered to walk three paces and crash forward on to his bed, rolling up in his duvet rather than towelling off. When he woke an hour later, Dr D stood over him looking cross.

‘Is it dinner already?’ Ryan asked, looking down anxiously and reassured that all his private bits were covered up. The headache had gone off slightly, but his nose was clogged.

‘You didn’t brief Amy when you got home from school,’ Dr D said.

Ryan noted that she was wearing ginormous sunglasses and an odd dress with huge shoulder pads.

‘Nothing much happened,’ Ryan said. ‘I went to school. Yannis was there all day. You can’t really talk properly when he’s around, and most of the time it’s lessons and stuff.’

‘You need to engineer a situation,’ Dr D said. ‘You’ll never attain the level of intimacy required to find out everything we need to know about Gillian Kitsell. We need to set her up with a female agent, but I need information on the type of woman she goes for. What do her ex-girlfriends look like? How did they meet? Does Gillian frequent gay bars or clubs?’

Ryan blew a stream of snot into a tissue before he spoke. ‘I’ve tried, but there are no photos around the house. Gillian’s study has an electronic lock, her bedroom is on the top floor where I’ve got no business going. And I can’t keep asking Ethan questions about his mum’s sex life without risking our friendship.’

Dr D folded her arms and sounded hostile. ‘Well you seem to have spent a lot of face time with Ethan for precious little result.’

‘It’s only been a week,’ Ryan said angrily. ‘Ethan and his mum are close. I actually think Ethan knows more about his mother’s business and family background than he’s admitting to. Give it another couple of weeks and I’ll
engineer your situation
. I’ll invite Ethan over here when everyone else is out, confess a few of my darkest secrets, and hopefully he’ll open up with a few of his in return.’

‘You could arrange it for this weekend,’ Dr D suggested.

‘It’s too soon,’ Ryan said. ‘Besides, his mum won’t let him stay out till he’s feeling better.’

‘And what about today?’ Dr D said. ‘Amy says Gillian arrived home with Ethan and Yannis in the back of her car. So it’s Ethan’s first day back at school, and you’ve allowed them to fall back into their familiar pattern of hanging together without you there. If that goes on, Yannis could easily cut you out again.’

Ryan jumped out of bed, holding his duvet around his waist and yelled furiously. ‘I’m sick,’ he shouted. ‘I’m a trained agent and I know what I’m doing. I
will
stay friends with Ethan. I
will
get information about Gillian. I
will
fix the burglar alarm sensors and break the lock on their back door so that you can get a man inside the secure basement room. But it all takes time, and you being pushy, and nagging me every five minutes and generally getting on my tits, is doing no good whatsoever.’

Amy heard Ryan shouting and ran up the stairs. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked as she ran in. ‘What’s going on?’

Ryan pointed at Dr D. ‘Either she goes back to TFU headquarters in Dallas and stays there, while I get on with my job, or I’m quitting and going back to campus.’

Amy looked at Ryan, who seemed upset, and Dr D, who looked furious. Her position was awkward, because CHERUB had assigned Amy responsibility for looking after Ryan, but her pay cheques came from TFU and Dr D was her boss.

‘Ryan, you need to stop shouting,’ Amy said.

‘Oh, take her side,’ Ryan growled.

‘I’m not taking sides,’ Amy said, struggling not to raise her voice. ‘I’m just saying that
nothing
ever gets accomplished by people yelling at each other. I suggest that we calm down over dinner, and talk things through properly afterwards.’

‘I don’t think she even understands how CHERUB operations work,’ Ryan said, slightly calmer.

Dr D reared up angrily – at least as much as you can rear up when you’re barely five feet tall. ‘Young man, I was running undercover operations for a decade before you were even born. You’re doing well, but you need to pick up the pace.’