Lone Wolf

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘Now there’s a sight,’ Ryan said. ‘And what happened to the nice cooked breakfasts I’ve been getting?’

  James smiled. ‘You get breakfast on a schoolday. On the weekend, it’s self-service.’

  As James said this, a big piece of toenail shot across the room in Ryan’s direction.

  ‘You’ll have someone’s eye out,’ Ryan said, as he walked to the fridge and found a big pack of bacon.

  ‘Bacon sandwich?’ Ryan asked, as James clipped another nail.

  ‘Count me in,’ James said, as he put his foot down and started pulling on a sock.

  Ryan put a pan on the hob and poured in some cooking oil.

  ‘So tell me more about your errand,’ James said.

  ‘Not a massive amount to tell,’ Ryan said. ‘The Somali guy gave me some cash—’

  James interrupted. ‘Name?’

  ‘I didn’t get a name, but Abdi or one of those kids will know. So anyway, he gives me fifty quid and sends me to buy burgers.’

  Ryan paused while he laid out bacon rashers in the pan, then quickly washed his hands before walking to the cupboard and grabbing a white sandwich loaf.

  ‘So what was going on when you got to this flat with the burgers?’

  ‘Poker game,’ Ryan said. ‘I only got as far as the hallway, but I could tell from the noises they were making.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ James said. ‘They’re not gonna send an untested kid into the place where they count the money or something. But it’s a really good sign.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘They’re interested in you,’ James explained. ‘For all we knew, Hagar’s crew had fifty kids all eager to work for them and you wouldn’t get a look-in for weeks. Did he take your mobile number?’

  Ryan nodded. ‘When I got back to The Hangout I asked for his number, but he just laughed.’

  ‘What about the girls?’ James asked.

  Ryan looked mystified as he laid four slices of bread on the countertop. ‘What girls?’

  James laughed. ‘It was a disco, wasn’t it? So I assume there were girls there.’

  ‘Oh right,’ Ryan said. ‘There were a few fit girls, but I never got a chance to talk to any of them.’

  ‘Keep your eyes peeled for an ex of someone who might know stuff,’ James said. ‘Are you still messed up over that Natalka chick you met in Kyrgyzstan?’

  For a second Ryan wondered how James could know, but as a mission controller James would have read all the records of his past missions.

  ‘It’s a year since we had to go our separate ways,’ Ryan said. ‘I still think about her though.’

  James nodded. ‘I fell in love on a mission a couple of times.’

  ‘Was that with Kerry Chang?’ Ryan asked.

  James laughed. ‘Nah, I was usually cheating on Kerry.’

  ‘Is Kerry still your girlfriend?’

  James nodded. ‘But she’s at university in California so I don’t get to see her much.’

  ‘Bummer,’ Ryan said.

  As Ryan flipped the sizzling rashers he felt his iPhone vibrate in his pocket. He backed away from the noisy pan so that he could hear the deep voice in his ear.

  ‘It’s Ali,’ the guy said.

  ‘Ali who?’

  ‘You went to Dirtyburger for me last night.’

  ‘Oh, sorry!’ Ryan said. ‘You never gave me your name.’

  As Ryan spoke he pointed at the pan and gestured for James to take over the cooking.

  ‘Busy today, son?’

  ‘No,’ Ryan said. ‘Just moved into the area. No idea what to do with myself.’

  ‘Well, you wanna earn twenty-five quid for a few hours’ graft?’

  ‘Sure,’ Ryan shrugged.

  ‘I’ll text you a location, Youssef will meet you there.’

  *

  Fay and Ning rode the bus back to Totteridge, then began the half-hour tube journey to Kentish Town. It was a beautiful day. Their carriage was empty apart from a woman with a buggy at the opposite end, but Fay’s huge smile made Ning uneasy.

  ‘Why so happy?’ Ning asked. ‘Aren’t you worried?’

  Fay shrugged. ‘I’ve been dreaming about getting Hagar back since my aunt died.’

  ‘But your mum and aunt were smart and Hagar got them.’

  ‘The therapist at Idris said I was a pathological thrill seeker,’ Fay said. ‘A danger addict.’

  ‘Where do we start?’ Ning asked. ‘I mean, presumably we don’t just ask for directions to Hagar’s house and then shoot him.’

  Fay laughed. ‘First off, it’s unlikely Hagar even lives in a dump like Kentish Town. Second, I don’t just want to kill Hagar. I want to get right in his face and make him mad first.’

  After riding the escalator out of Kentish Town tube station, Fay and Ning walked away from the shops and restaurants and headed for the Pemberton estate.

  ‘That’s The Hangout youth club,’ Fay said. ‘Hagar’s people used to run a lot of small-time stuff out of there.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Street-level dealers, mostly,’ Fay said. ‘They recruit local kids to do the jobs nobody else wants.’

  ‘Are we going inside?’

  ‘No point,’ Fay said.

  Instead, Fay led Ning to a shabby underground garage block, through a park that seemed seedy even on a bright summer’s day, and finally to an industrial estate where a man lay sleeping on his back.

  ‘He’ll do,’ Fay said.

  The man was dirty, dressed in a denim jacket, football shorts and filthy trainers. His legs were so skinny that you could see every bone and tendon and he had scabs all over his body.

  ‘Is he a drug addict?’ Ning asked, looking shocked.

  ‘Of course,’ Fay said. ‘You wanna know what’s happening in the drug trade, go ask an addict.’

  Fay crouched over the crumpled figure and pinched his cheek. ‘Rupert.’

  The man slowly opened one reddened eye and then began furiously scratching his arms, as if he had fleas.

  ‘Piss off and leave me alone,’ Rupert demanded. ‘Bloody do-gooders.’

  ‘I’m not a do-gooder,’ Fay said firmly. ‘Where are your friends, Bob and Tony?’

  The man was intrigued by this show of knowledge and squinted from the sun as he sat up slightly. ‘Bob was stabbed up and didn’t make it. Tony’s in prison.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Fay said. ‘You three were quite a team.’

  ‘No offence, but who the hell are you?’

  ‘You used to be friendly with my aunt Kirsten.’

  ‘Kirsten was a nice lady! She used to fix me up good.’

  Fay pulled a twenty-pound note and Rupert reached for it.

  ‘No, no,’ Fay said, snatching it out of reach.

  ‘You’re the wee girl Kirsten had with her sometimes? How is your auntie?’

  ‘Dead,’ Fay said bluntly.

  ‘Ripping off dealers,’ Rupert said. ‘That’ll get anyone killed.’

  ‘I’ve got twenty pounds here,’ Fay said. ‘I’ll take you to the greasy spoon up by the railway arches. I’ll buy you something to eat and you can tell me all the best spots to buy heroin and cocaine. Is that a deal, Rupert?’

  Rupert’s smile showed off missing front teeth. ‘Forget the food,’ he said. ‘Just give me thirty for my next two fixes and I’ll tell you all you need to know about Hagar and Eli.’

  ‘Eli?’ Fay said. ‘Who the hell is Eli?’

  18. PHONE

  ‘Youssef,’ Ryan said. ‘What’s happening?’

  Youssef was bulky and dark-skinned with a wispy beard. ‘You’re late,’ he said coldly, as he got off a wooden bench and started towards the entrance of Kentish Town Station.
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  ‘Only five minutes,’ Ryan said. ‘I’m new in the neighbourhood, took a wrong turning.’

  Youssef accepted this with a shrug. ‘There’s money to be made running stuff for Ali and that crew, but you gotta be punctual and fast.’

  Ryan followed Youssef, blipping his Oyster card through the tube gates and down the escalator towards the platform.

  ‘We’re getting off at Tottenham Court Road,’ Youssef explained, as he discreetly passed over a roll of money. ‘That’s three hundred pounds. When we get out we’re gonna head towards Oxford Street. It’s three miles long and has about thirty mobile phone shops. Our job is to go into every shop along the way, and pick up one of the cheapest phones in each shop.’

  ‘Why not buy them all in one shop?’ Ryan asked, as they stepped off the escalator and moved on to the southbound platform.

  ‘Three minutes,’ Youssef said, as he looked up at the train arrivals board. He didn’t answer Ryan’s question until they’d moved to a quiet area at the end of the platform.

  ‘Mobile phones are convenient, but they’re also a drug dealer’s worst nightmare. Not only can the cops record every conversation, they can be used to triangulate your exact position. The only way to stay ahead of the cops is to never use a phone for more than three or four days.’

  Ryan knew this already, but was keen to find out how deep Youssef’s knowledge was. ‘Why not just change the SIM card?’

  Youssef shook his head. ‘Every phone has a built-in number called an IMEI. Even if you swap the SIM card, the cops can still trace the phone or block it if it gets stolen.’

  ‘So how often do the Hagars of this world change their numbers?’

  ‘I’ve heard that Hagar doesn’t carry a mobile,’ Youssef said. ‘If he wants something done, he’ll put it in the ear of a lieutenant. The lieutenant probably has to change his mobile every two or three days.’

  ‘Which is why we’re gonna buy the cheapest ones we can get,’ Ryan said.

  ‘You’re learning,’ Youssef answered. ‘And if you ever spot a dude stepping out of a sixty-grand car holding a twelve pound ninety-nine Nokia, I guarantee you he’s crooked.’

  *

  It took some gentle persuasion to take Rupert to a greasy spoon café behind the Pemberton estate. He ordered a full English and a large tea, Ning asked for beans on toast, while Fay went for a bacon and fried egg sandwich.

  ‘Tell me about Eli?’ Fay asked.

  Rupert shrugged. ‘Don’t know that much,’ he said. ‘But there’s a rivalry going on. This part of town was all Hagar’s undisputed territory. But the last few months this Eli has been mixing it.’

  ‘So they’re at war?’ Fay asked.

  ‘If they are it’s a quiet war,’ Rupert said. ‘But at least healthy competition has upped the quality of the product. You get more kick from twenty quid’s worth of gear than you would have done at the start of the year.’

  They paused the conversation while the waitress put down three mugs of tea and the plates of greasy food. Rupert tucked in by skewering his sausage on a fork, but Ning was put off by a plate that didn’t look too clean and the unwashed aroma of her dining companion.

  ‘So where do you go to buy heroin these days?’ Fay asked.

  ‘Eli sells a decent product. You can usually pick it up in the park over by the reservoir, or behind the Archway tower.’

  ‘And Hagar?’ Fay asked.

  ‘He’s got a dozen places, but I usually go up to the Pemberton estate.’

  ‘Same for cocaine?’ Ning asked, to Fay’s surprise.

  ‘Most places will sell you both,’ Rupert said, as he erupted into a violent coughing fit.

  Fay nodded as she greedily bit into her fried egg sandwich. ‘Pemberton estate,’ she told Ning. ‘That’s where we’re headed next.’

  *

  It was a hot Saturday afternoon and the estate writhed with kids riding bikes, kicking balls and squirting one another with water pistols. Amidst the fun, Fay picked out an alleyway behind the refuse chute where a three-strong crew were peddling drugs.

  ‘Three blokes,’ Ning said. ‘How would you rob them?’

  Fay shook her head. ‘It’s never worth robbing a street crew. They’re always on high alert for cops and even if you got close you’d be lucky to get two hundred in drugs and cash. You’ve got to go for big quantities to make robbing worth the risk.’

  ‘So why are we looking at street dealers?’

  ‘Rupert gave us an idea where to find dealers, now we need one of ’em to work for us.’

  ‘An informant on the inside?’ Ning asked.

  Fay nodded. ‘It’s the hardest part of any operation, but my aunt taught me a few tricks.’

  ‘Pretend you fancy them?’ Ning asked.

  ‘Only as a last resort,’ Fay said, as she gave a little shudder.

  After making a detailed tour of the estate, the two girls settled on a bench with a decent view over The Hangout. The youth club wasn’t officially open but there was a group of teenaged boys hanging around near the entrance and every so often one of them went inside.

  ‘What are we looking for?’ Ning asked.

  Fay shrugged. ‘I’ll know when I see it.’

  ‘You reckon all these boys are working for Hagar?’

  ‘Lookouts, runners and wannabes,’ Fay said.

  Ning was bored after half an hour on the bench, but Fay seemed fascinated. Ning was momentarily interested when she saw Ryan and Youssef roll up carrying heavily laden backpacks.

  ‘Could be drugs,’ Ning said.

  Fay laughed. ‘What, in broad daylight in the centre of the estate? You’ve got a lot to learn.’

  ‘So who are they?’

  ‘Well, if they come out with those backpacks empty, we’ll know they’ve delivered something.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Anything drug dealers need,’ Fay explained. ‘Milk powder for cutting drugs, plastic bags, mobile phones.’

  Sure enough, Ryan and Youssef emerged a few minutes later minus their backpacks and looking pleased with themselves. Ryan briefly stood around with the mini-crew outside The Hangout, before taking the two hundred-metre stroll back home.

  A few minutes after Ryan left, another kid appeared. He was nothing special to look at but Fay’s eyes were wide open.

  ‘Check out Mr Frizzy Hair,’ she said.

  Ning was mystified. ‘What about him?’

  ‘The body language,’ Fay said. ‘All the other kids want to bump fists with him. And he’s a little better dressed, like he’s someone with some money in his pocket.’

  CHERUB had trained Ning to pick up signs like this and she felt stupid for missing them. ‘He could just have wealthy parents,’ she said.

  ‘If he did it’s unlikely he’d be hanging around here.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘We’ll follow him,’ Fay said. ‘I want to know where he lives.’

  19. WARREN

  Fay and Ning followed their target across the Pemberton estate and on a short bus ride to a shabby housing block close to Hampstead Heath. Shortly before 7 p.m. he left his house on a bike and they had no way to follow him.

  When it got dark just before ten, Fay moved in close and looked through the ground-floor apartment’s front windows.

  ‘Looks like it’s just his mum at home,’ Fay said. ‘No sign of a father or siblings as far as I can see.’

  ‘I’m tired,’ Ning moaned. ‘Someone’s gonna spot us if we keep hanging around.’

  Fay sounded irritated. ‘Just go if you want to.’

  ‘You can’t stay here all night,’ Ning said. ‘You’ve got to sleep some time.’

  It was a quarter to midnight when their target returned and wheeled his bike into a hallway. H
e turned on a light in a first-floor bedroom, and threw the window wide open to catch a breeze.

  ‘I reckon he’s in for the night now,’ Fay said, as she glanced at her watch.

  ‘The last train to Totteridge will have gone,’ Ning said. ‘But I reckon I can smuggle you into my room at Nebraska House.’

  Ning earned a mild rebuke from the night supervisor for staying out after curfew and smuggled Fay into her room via a door at the back of the kitchens. The slender bed wasn’t big enough to share, so Fay wound up on the floor with bundled clothes for a pillow. Both girls slept well and nobody raised an eyebrow as Fay showered and ate breakfast with the other residents of Nebraska House.

  ‘What’s today’s plan?’ Ning asked.

  ‘Back to our target’s apartment,’ Fay said.

  ‘For how long?’ Ning asked wearily.

  ‘However long it takes,’ Fay answered. ‘This is my battle, if you’re not interested I’ll handle it on my own.’

  As a CHERUB agent Ning knew she had to stick with Fay, but as a human being she didn’t relish the prospect of another hot, boring day following people around. After sneaking off and making a quick call to update James, Ning followed Fay back to their target’s apartment.

  It was half past ten when the target’s mother headed out, dressed in a bright yellow suit and a matching hat like she was going to church.

  ‘We’re in luck,’ Fay said. ‘Let’s roll.’

  ‘Is there a plan?’ Ning asked.

  Fay threw over a scarf. ‘Tie this over your face and follow my lead.’

  The two girls tied scarves over the bottom half of their faces as they mounted the apartments’ front steps. Fay pressed the doorbell and slid the Glock handgun out the back of her jeans.

  They waited long enough for Ning to say, ‘Maybe he went out again.’

  But after a full minute and a second press on the doorbell a blurred figure could be seen behind the frosted glass in the front door. The teenager opened up: fifteen years old, with scruffy Nike tracksuit bottoms and a muscular chest glazed with sweat.