The Killing

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The Killing Page 3

by Robert Muchamore


  ‘You will all be armed with the latest in combat simulation technology. It’s a system of synthetic ammunition that was designed for training the United States Marines. In order to demonstrate the difference between this system and conventional paintballing, I’m going to use my un-beautiful assistant, Miss Puke.’

  Mr Large handed Lauren a wooden tile thirty centimetres square and two thick.

  ‘Hold it in front of your chest and move across to the opposite side of the room.’

  When Lauren was in place, Mr Large grabbed a paintball gun off a desk and fired a shot. It hit the wood with a loud crack and Lauren felt a mist of lilac paint spatter her bare arms.

  ‘Almost no power, short range and limited accuracy,’ Large explained, throwing the gun down with contempt. ‘Now we’ll try one of these.’

  He picked an assault rifle off the desk.

  ‘This is a proper weapon. A Hungarian-made AK-M assault rifle. There hasn’t been a war fought in the last fifty years where soldiers on one side or both haven’t used some variant of the Kalashnikov. That’s because they are compact, lightweight and extraordinarily robust.’

  Mr Large picked a banana-shaped magazine off the table, clipped it into the underside of the gun and set it to fire single shots.

  ‘As much as I’d enjoy using live ammunition on Puke, this AK is loaded with a training and simulation round. This ammunition has been designed to provide the most realistic combat training you can get, short of actually letting you fire live bullets at one another.’

  Mr Large took aim at the square of wood. The noise was similar to that made by the paintball gun, but when the round hit and the paint exploded, Lauren stumbled backwards and the plank erupted into a mass of splinters. When she regained her composure, Lauren noticed that the bullet had torn a huge hunk from the centre of the paint-splattered wood.

  ‘Because of the power of these simulated rounds, you’ll each have to wear helmets and full body armour,’ Mr Large explained. ‘Do not remove them unless you absolutely have to. You will be provided with special water canisters with straws that can pass through your visors. If you need to urinate, make sure you’re in a safe position and get one of your team-mates to cover you. There is a serious risk of being blinded, so you must keep your helmets and visors in place at all times.’

  Kerry raised her hand.

  ‘Yes, Kerrykins.’

  ‘Sir, what are the rules if we get hit? Do we have to lie dead for ten minutes or something?’

  The gerbil bristled as Mr Large grinned one of his most evil grins. ‘The underlying principle behind this new generation of simulated ammunition is simple: if trainees are scared of getting shot by something painful, they will act in a fashion similar to how they would act in a live combat zone. There are no fancy electronics telling you where you’ve been shot, or regulations saying how long you’ve got to lie down on the ground. The rules are very simple: if you get shot, it hurts like hell.’

  4. ESCAPE

  James and Shak broke outside on to the concrete ramp, with the PE teacher hurtling after them. The front gates of the school were less than fifty metres away, but the lock was controlled from indoors via an intercom and there was no way they’d be able to clamber over before the teacher grabbed hold of them. Their only option was the flap in the wire fence they’d arrived through, but that was on the opposite side of the school grounds.

  James took a glance over his shoulder as they charged back into the main school building. The PE teacher was over two metres tall with a rugby player’s build, and he was closing up rapidly. To make matters worse, the boys wore flat-soled shoes that skidded hopelessly on the polished floor.

  By the time James and Shak made it to the flight of stairs leading down to the playing fields, the PE teacher was almost within touching distance. The boys gained ground by sliding down the metal banister in the middle of the staircase, but this trick nearly backfired: James picked up so much speed that he couldn’t stop himself when he slid off at the bottom and he ended up crashing painfully through the doors.

  It took a second for James’ eyes to adjust to the afternoon sunlight. His heart sank as he looked out on to two pitches covered with Year Eleven kids. They were playing soccer and he got a nasty feeling that they’d try and bundle him if he charged into the middle of their game with an angry teacher in hot pursuit.

  While James hesitated, Shak had sprinted onwards, displaying an impressive turn of speed. James jerked violently and stumbled forwards as the PE teacher ploughed into his back and wrapped a hairy arm around his chest.

  ‘You lot, get that other one,’ the teacher shouted, his mouth almost in James’ ear as he pointed towards Shak.

  The teacher thought he’d captured James the moment he got an arm around him. But he’d assumed he was chasing after a pupil of Trinity Day, not a CHERUB agent who’d done advanced self-defence training. James ducked down and used a simple Judo throw; taking advantage of their forward momentum to roll his much heavier opponent over his back and slam him against the sun-baked grass.

  There was a chance the throw had injured the teacher, but James reckoned he looked tougher than that. It had probably just made him extremely angry and James didn’t want him getting up and coming after him again, so he drove a hard punch into the base of his nose.

  While the PE teacher wrapped his hands over his face and yelled out in pain, James looked up and rapidly tried to assess his chances of escape. Shak had nearly made it across the pitch. He had an entire football team on his tail, but it looked like he was going to make it to the hole in the fence and out of the school. The trouble was, once Shak had revealed the location of the flap, the kids chasing him would easily be able to block it off. James realised his only way out now was over the fence, barbed wire and all.

  The nearest stretch of perimeter backed on to the gardens of some houses. It was less than fifty metres away, but there were three kids closing him down. James picked the smallest one – who was still bigger than he was – and charged straight at him. The kid dropped low and spread out wide to make a tackle. James dummied, before spinning out to the right and avoiding him. He stumbled a couple of paces, before clattering into another kid who shoved him flat on to the grass. Using a technique learned in Karate training, James managed to roll head over heels and spring explosively back to his feet. He now had a clear path to the fence.

  Ideally, James would have had time to throw his blazer over the barbed wire topping the fence, but the heavy pack hooked around his shoulders made it impossible to get the jacket off quickly. He launched himself at the fence at full speed. The gaps in the wire mesh were too narrow to get a toehold, so he had to rely on upper body strength to haul himself up four metres. By the time he was within reach of the barbed wire, his shoulders were in agony and his fingers felt like they were set to pop out of their sockets.

  James swung his leg up on to the top of a concrete fence post, narrowly missing the grasping hand of a footballer trying to get hold of his ankle. He had second thoughts about the four-metre leap awaiting him as he tried to position a hand on the barbed wire without getting spiked; but the prospect of giving up and getting on the wrong end of a group of angry sixteen-year-olds was hardly more attractive.

  As he tried to perch atop the wire to make his jump, the kids down below gave up trying to grab him and adopted a new tactic: violently rocking the wire mesh in an attempt to knock him down.

  As James swayed precariously back and forth, the teacher who’d been taking the football lesson was practically foaming at the mouth, still convinced that he was looking at a genuine Trinity Day pupil. ‘Come down this instant, boy. You will be expelled for this.’

  James gasped in pain as one of the barbs tore into his thigh. He took a quick breath before hurling himself clumsily off the fence. He’d hoped to jump clear of the shrubs edging the garden and collapse sideways on to the lawn, paratrooper style, but the violent swaying of the fence made the jump impossible to judge. He ended up landing
on his side, with his feet tangled in a hydrangea bush. Only the heavily padded backpack saved him from injury.

  After scrambling up, James couldn’t resist an opportunity to triumphantly flick off the Trinity boys.

  He kept low as he jogged across the lawn towards the house. The TV was on and there were some little kids running around inside. Fortunately there was a wooden gate at the side of the house that opened with a simple latch.

  He crunched down a gravel driveway between two houses, inhaling the stench of overflowing plastic rubbish bags as he caught his breath. When James stepped out on to the pavement, he leaned against a low wall and burrowed into the mobile phone pocket on the side of his backpack, trying not to think about the growing circle of blood soaking into his trousers.

  He flipped the phone open and frantically dialled his mission controller.

  ‘Ewart,’ James gasped into the handset. ‘I’m outside number thirty-four Pollack Street. I think we might have screwed up. You’ve got to get me out of here fast.’

  ‘I’m on my way to get Shak,’ Ewart answered. ‘I’ll meet you by the post-box at the top of the road.’

  James’ heart thumped as a police siren wailed in the distance. ‘You’d better hurry up about it,’ he gasped, feeling a sharp pain in his injured thigh as he broke into a jog.

  *

  Ewart Asker jammed down the brake pedal of a black Mercedes. Shak threw the back door open before it came to a full halt, then scooted across to the other side of the rear seat, allowing James to dive into the car.

  James looked at Shak as Ewart accelerated away from the kerb. ‘How far did those guys chase you?’

  ‘Only two followed me through the fence,’ Shak said. ‘I belted one over the head with a garden gnome and the other one backed off.’

  James smiled, rubbing streaks of sweat on to his cuff as he took his first breath of the chilled air inside the car.

  ‘So what went wrong?’ Ewart asked sharply.

  James was worried how Ewart would react. Despite having the air of a laid-back guy with his baggy cargos, tongue stud and bleached hair, Ewart had a reputation as one of CHERUB’s strictest mission controllers.

  ‘We set off an alarm, passing through a fire door leading out to the back of the gym,’ James explained.

  ‘You set it off,’ Shak said, as he threw down his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  ‘Yeah,’ James said irritably, as he wriggled out of his blazer. ‘But you looked out the window and said we should go that way.’

  The two boys exchanged scowls. Now the car was a couple of streets away from Trinity school, Ewart cooled down his driving to blend in with the ordinary traffic.

  ‘Fire doors are often linked to alarms,’ Ewart said. ‘Didn’t either of you remember that from your infiltration and surveillance training?’

  ‘Actually, now you mention it …’ James said, nodding sheepishly.

  ‘I suppose it is mostly my fault,’ Shak admitted.

  ‘We can play the blame game later,’ Ewart said, as he took a sharp turn into a main road. ‘Right now I need to know exactly what happened and see if we’ve got a mess that needs cleaning up. Did you get the bugs into position?’

  James nodded. ‘Both of them; that bit of the plan worked fine.’

  ‘Nobody saw you in Stein’s car or office?’

  ‘No,’ Shak said. ‘We only got rumbled after we came upstairs from the car park.’

  ‘And you didn’t leave any equipment behind?’

  Both boys shook their heads. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Good,’ Ewart said. ‘So the bugs are in place and there’s nothing linking you to Stein.’

  ‘But they still saw us,’ Shak said.

  ‘Use your loaf,’ Ewart replied. ‘They saw two boys dressed in Trinity uniform. They’ll assume you’re a couple of local kids playing a prank, or trying to break in and steal stuff.’

  ‘They found us around the changing area,’ James said. ‘And there’s a wallet in the back pocket of these trousers I nicked.’

  ‘Bonus,’ Ewart nodded enthusiastically. ‘In that case they’ll think you were thieves trying to rob the changing rooms.’

  ‘What about us wearing Trinity uniforms though?’ Shak asked.

  Ewart shrugged. ‘Maybe you picked them up at a local jumble sale or something … Actually, I think we did buy them in a charity shop in town. Besides, a couple of kids breaking into a school are hardly headline news. The cops might dust for fingerprints and show a few mug-shots of the local yobbos to the people who saw you, but unless the school kicks up a huge stink they probably won’t even bother with that.’

  ‘So the mission was basically a success?’ Shak asked.

  James caught Ewart’s wry smile in the driver’s mirror. ‘Despite the misjudgement with the fire door, I guess you boys did OK.’

  James was greatly relieved that Ewart wasn’t going to go psycho at them. He lifted his bum off the seat and pushed his bloody trousers down as far as his knees.

  ‘Is there a first-aid kit around?’ he asked.

  Ewart nodded. ‘Under the front passenger seat.’

  ‘Does it hurt?’ Shak asked, as James grabbed the green plastic box from between his feet.

  ‘Course,’ James said, as he ripped open an antiseptic wipe and cleaned away the blood, revealing a small puncture wound that was already showing signs of scabbing over.

  ‘It’s minute,’ Shak said, looking at the injury with contempt.

  ‘Yeah, but it’s deep,’ James said defensively. ‘I think it almost went through to the bone.’

  ‘Oh give over,’ Shak giggled. ‘I’ve seen paper cuts worse than that.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ James moaned. ‘With an injury like this, I still don’t think I’ll be up to going out on training tonight. Ewart, can you write me an excuse note?’

  Ewart shook his head. ‘James, you know the rules. If you think your injury is serious, go and see the nurse on campus and she’ll write one for you.’

  ‘Come on, Ewart,’ James begged. ‘I bailed you out this morning when you found out Callum was glued to the toilet.’

  ‘Give over,’ Ewart grinned. ‘You practically begged me to let you come. Didn’t this job already get you out of some physics test? As far as I’m concerned, you’re scheduled for a training exercise tonight, and unless you have a legitimate excuse, you’re going to do it.’

  James kicked the back of the passenger seat. ‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered, making sure it wasn’t loud enough for Ewart to hear.

  5. EGGS

  James got back to campus shortly before seven o’clock, giving him an hour to clean up, change into uniform and down some food. He was already knackered from the mission, and while he knew the adrenalin rush would keep him alert through the overnight training exercise, the loss of a night’s sleep would leave his body out of sync over the upcoming weekend.

  Kerry was taking her tray across to scrape when James arrived in the canteen. She’d eaten with Gabrielle and the rest of her team, and they’d clearly been discussing their strategy for the exercise. She gave James a peck on the cheek as she passed by.

  ‘Good luck tonight, sweetie,’ she said, grinning sarcastically. ‘It’d be so sad if your team ended up finishing with no eggs and getting that punishment run.’

  ‘What punishment run?’ James asked.

  ‘Ten kilometres with heavy packs. Sounds like fun, eh?’

  ‘Really?’ James gasped. ‘Oh man, I don’t know any of this stuff. I tried to get hold of Lauren, but she’s not in her room and her mobile’s off.’

  ‘You mean to say …’ Kerry giggled, shaking her head. ‘James, have you even met up with all the members of your team yet?’

  Kerry looked back at Gabrielle and the three other kids on her team, who were lined up behind her, holding their dinner trays. They exchanged knowing glances and shook their heads.

  ‘I wouldn’t get too cocky,’ James said, trying to sound like he wasn’t ruffled. ‘Ewart tol
d me some stuff about the egg battle on the drive back and he gave me a few pointers.’

  As Kerry’s team filed away, James realised he had to find Lauren fast. If they arrived at the combat training area without having studied the maps and made a plan, they’d get wiped out. He grabbed a burger and fries, sat at the nearest table and started wolfing them down.

  ‘Yo, bro.’

  James was relieved to look over his shoulder and find Lauren, Bethany and Jake heading towards him; but the training exercise went clean out of his mind.

  ‘Oh my god. What have you done to your head?’

  Lauren grinned. ‘Like it?’

  ‘It’s um … black. I bet Mum’s spinning in her grave.’

  Lauren was wounded by James’ remark. ‘Do you really think she’d be upset?’

  James sensed he’d hit a nerve and changed tack. ‘Nah, don’t sweat it. Mum would probably be surprised you waited as long as you did. You must have asked her fifty billion times. Just don’t get that nose ring you were after as well.’

  Lauren shook her head. ‘We’re not allowed to pierce anything except our ears before we’re sixteen – so does it look OK, or what?’

  ‘It’s not terrible,’ James shrugged. ‘But most boys prefer blondes you know.’

  Lauren looked at Bethany. ‘That’s the best reason I’ve heard yet for dying it black.’

  James grinned. ‘I can’t wait until you get your first boyfriend. I’m gonna have so much fun teasing you.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Lauren sneered.

  ‘So what’s happened to Dana?’ James asked.

  Bethany shrugged. ‘Cheesy went back to her room.’

  ‘Why do they call her Cheesy?’ Jake asked.

  ‘ ’Cos she doesn’t wash,’ Bethany grinned.

  James smiled. ‘She’s not a girly girl and she’s a loner, so some of the others take the mickey. I know she wears scruffy uniform and that, but I’ve sparred with her in the dojo and she smells as fresh as anyone else.’

 

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