CHERUB: The General

by Robert Muchamore

  Mac saw the funny side of pulling such a blatant con, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. ‘I’m a very distant cousin,’ he emphasised. ‘And it’s something we prefer not to flaunt.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Julio said exuberantly. ‘Everyone on the Reef VIP team can cater to your needs in the utmost privacy.’

  Two limousines and a van with Reef Casino logos on it pulled up on the road outside the terminal.

  ‘And how long do you intend staying?’ Julio asked.

  ‘Two nights,’ Meryl said. ‘If that’s OK?’

  *

  The complimentary suites were on top of the thirty-five floor Reef Casino Resort, overlooking the southern end of the Vegas Strip. Meryl, Kazakov and Mac had been given a huge three-bedroom suite with floor to ceiling marble, while the ten kids were split between three smaller but no less luxurious suites down the hall.

  James ended up sharing a suite with Jake and Kevin, but with two bedrooms, each containing two king-sized beds, two massive bathrooms and a lounge with an eighty-inch plasma screen, this was no great hardship.

  It was five in the afternoon by the time everyone had freshened up and changed clothes. The three boys pigged out on room service and had a massive battle with M&Ms from the mini-bar. By that time it was dark and Julio set up a pair of limousines to take the thirteen-strong group on a tour of the spectacularly lit casinos on the Strip. But it was 5 a.m. British time. Everyone was sleepy and Jake and Kevin were having real problems keeping their eyes open.

  James was jet-lagged and woke at half-five the next morning. He took a solo stroll around the casino. Vegas had been crammed with new year revellers two days earlier, but was now mostly home to hardcore gamblers who’d yet to go to bed and cleaning staff buffing tiles with giant polishing machines.

  James wasn’t allowed to gamble, but as a hotel guest he was allowed on the casino floor so long as he didn’t linger in front of a table or slot machine. He’d expected to find men in bow ties sitting at roulette tables like in a James Bond movie, but the reality was a vast airless space filled with several thousand bleeping slot machines. The cocktail waitresses flitting between the rows of machines were supposed to look sexy, but a night walking the casino’s floors in high heels meant their smiles were fake and their overdone make-up was melting under the bright lights.

  Beyond the casino floor was an indoor strip of more than a dozen restaurants and an upscale shopping mall with a sign out front boasting Four million square feet of retail paradise! But the only places open at six on a Tuesday morning were the twenty-four-hour buffet and a hotel gift shop.

  James wandered into the gift shop for no particular reason and spent a couple of minutes studying the racks of tacky Vegas paperweights, snowstorm models of the Vegas Strip and plastic Elvis Presley statues that sang Viva Las Vegas when you reached around the back and pressed a button. The clerk had heard Elvis a million times and looked up from her copy of People magazine, defying James to press the button again.

  At the back of the store there was a rack of books. It was mostly souvenir guides and fold-out tourist maps, but there was half a shelf dedicated to books on gambling. James’ eye was drawn to a slim volume called The Ultimate Blackjack Manual.

  He picked it up and spent a few minutes flicking through the pages. He was surprised that a book sold in a casino would contain several chapters detailing card-counting strategies, but the information was openly available on the web and he figured the casino would rather make a buck selling it to you than leave it to someone else.

  ‘That’s seven eighty-three with tax,’ the assistant said, as James handed her the book. ‘Got ex-casino card decks for fifty cents if you want one.’

  James realised that he’d need a deck of cards to work through some of the examples in the book and nodded. ‘And a pack of menthol gum,’ he added.

  ‘Ten dollars and seventy-three.’

  James hadn’t noticed how attractive the assistant was until he looked down at her tanned legs behind the counter. He made sure there was nobody else in store before deciding to take his first ever shot at an adult woman.

  ‘So what time do you get off?’ James asked, using a line he’d heard in about a million movies.

  She smiled. ‘What’s it to you when I get off?’

  ‘I dunno,’ James said stupidly. ‘We could meet up, go somewhere … or something.’

  The girl burst out laughing. ‘Sure, we’ll go to McDonalds. I’ll buy you a Happy Meal.’

  James felt like he’d been shot. ‘I’m older than I look,’ he said.

  ‘How old?’

  James flushed bright red as he swept his change into his pocket. ‘Eighteen,’ he lied.

  ‘Months or years?’ the girl giggled. ‘I think you should stick to girls at your school. Although ten out of ten for trying and the English accent’s pretty cute!’

  *

  Kevin and Jake had been indoctrinated by the hotel’s promotional TV channel and wanted to go to the Reef’s amusement arcade and aquarium, so Meryl took them while James and the rest of the older kids headed out to see the sights. Almost everything in Las Vegas is on Las Vegas Boulevard, which everyone calls the Strip.

  The Reef was at the southern end and after a big room-service breakfast the eight older cherubs spent most of the day cruising north. The Nevada desert is one of the hottest places on earth, but January is wintertime and the kids were comfortable walking in sweatshirts and jeans.

  A six-kilometre journey along walkways, escalators and travelators took them through massive casinos complete with pyramids, fake Eiffel towers, Venetian canals and roadside shows including spectacular fountains and a cheesy medieval battle.

  All the kids had money from Christmas and things are quite a bit cheaper in the States so they cruised several giant malls. James bought some cargo shorts and a polo shirt in Abercrombie and Fitch, but he had less to spend than the others because most of his Christmas money had gone on replacing the mobile phone he’d wrapped around Michael Hendry’s head.

  They tried a couple of paid attractions, but after a crappy 3D Pharaoh ride and an embarrassingly naff indoor rollercoaster they gave up and concentrated on shopping and sights. By the time they reached the northernmost part of the Strip they all had aching legs, so Kerry found the location of the nearest multiplex and they squeezed into one of the limos that wait outside every casino and went to see a film that hadn’t reached the UK yet.

  It was gone 8 p.m. when they got back to the VIP suites at the Reef and Julio the host had arranged for them to have their evening meal on the rooftop terrace outside the adults’ suite.

  After the aquarium Meryl had taken the two younger boys on a tour and had lunch with some friends she’d made in the area during her short stint as a casino host. The kids had to keep up the pretence of being Mac’s adopted children, but Meryl now became Mac’s ex-wife because he’d spent a large part of the day in the casino and returned sloshed with a forty-something Texan woman dressed in tight jeans and fancy cowboy boots.

  ‘I lost seven Gs at the baccarat,’ Mac grinned. ‘But I bagged a beautiful lady as compensation.’

  James had never seen Mac drunk before, but after losing his wife and two grandkids six months earlier he figured the old man deserved a chance to go crazy, and Mac could afford to drop twenty thousand dollars at a casino.

  Nobody knew exactly how rich Mac was, but he’d sold shares in a computer company he’d founded for several million pounds before taking the chairman’s job at CHERUB and rumour had it that he’d enhanced his fortune since then by investing in technology companies over the twenty-five years that followed.

  The kids were in a good mood and mucked around noisily as they ate dinner, but Mac and Meryl had both had a few drinks and didn’t particularly care. They were starting dessert when Kazakov stumbled in, accompanied by genial casino host Julio Sweet and a burly casino security guard. Kazakov’s face was berry red and his shirt had a horrible grey stain where he’d topp
led an overstuffed ashtray.

  ‘Hello, hello,’ Meryl smiled. ‘Where the hell have you been all day? I haven’t seen you since breakfast.’

  ‘There was an altercation downstairs in the casino,’ the security guard said rigidly. James noticed that he had dark glasses and an earpiece like FBI guys always do in the movies. ‘We’ve asked this gentleman not to return to the casino floor for the remainder of his stay.’

  ‘Yankee pigs!’ Kazakov growled. ‘I was up four thousand dollars. I bet on black six times and six times it comes up red. I swear the game was rigged!’

  Kazakov was a large man who probably could have taken out the security guard and half the room with it if he’d wanted to, so a tense silence settled over the long dining table, until Mac suddenly banged his fist on the table and roared with laughter.

  ‘You should have listened to Meryl,’ Mac grinned. ‘Roulette’s a mug’s game.’

  ‘Six bastard times,’ Kazakov said. ‘I was up four thousand. Five minutes later I’m down three thousand. Boom!’

  ‘That’s gambling for you,’ Meryl said. ‘I’m pretty upset too. I lost eight bucks playing the five-cent slot machines.’

  Mac stumbled over the terrace and pulled five hundred-dollar chips out of his blazer pocket. ‘Enough to drown your sorrows with,’ he said, before pulling a bewildered Kazakov into a hug. ‘Pull up a chair, have some dinner and forget all about it.’

  Julio snatched Kazakov’s chips and hastily changed them up for five one-hundred-dollar bills so that Kazakov wasn’t tempted to head back down to the tables.

  ‘Get me a steak,’ Kazakov said. ‘The biggest, bloodiest steak in town and a bottle of vodka to drown my sorrows.’

  The casino host’s job is to make their clients gamble as much as possible, and it was a mark of Julio’s skill that he’d successfully persuaded Mac and Kazakov to lose ten thousand dollars when they’d arrived intending to gamble less than a tenth of that amount.

  Julio followed Mac back to the dining table and tucked him back in at his place. ‘Perhaps after dessert I can take you back to the VIP tables? You mentioned your taste for Scottish single malt whisky and we have a really spectacular selection behind the bar, including a fifty-year-old Springbank. I believe there are less than one hundred bottles still in existence.’

  Julio was desperate to get Mac back to a baccarat table. The host had taken a huge risk by giving four of the casino’s best suites to people who arrived on a very fancy plane but had no track record as gamblers. The ten grand Mac and Kazakov had lost would barely cover the cost of renting four luxury suites and that was before adding all the complimentary meals, room service and limo rides they’d been taking.

  ‘You’re only in Vegas until morning,’ Julio swooned, as he placed a clean napkin over Mac’s lap. ‘A busy man like yourself, it might be a long time before you get to play again and I’m sure your new lady friend would enjoy some more time at the tables.’

  ‘I’d love to play some more,’ the Texan said, before kissing Mac’s earlobe.

  ‘Let me finish my dessert,’ Mac said.

  All of the older cherubs were concerned for Mac’s wellbeing.

  ‘Daddy,’ Kerry said firmly. ‘You’ve got an early start tomorrow. Perhaps you should stay here in the room and chill out with us.’

  Julio shot Kerry daggers as Mac finished his dessert and headed inside with the Texan’s arm around his back.

  ‘I hope he’s all right,’ James said warily.

  Bruce shrugged. ‘Let the old guy enjoy himself, I say.’

  Meryl checked over her shoulder to make sure that Mac, Julio and the Texan were all well out of earshot. ‘Mac’s a big boy,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll let him have his fun, but I’ll go down and fish him out of the casino if it looks like Julio’s getting the better of him.’

  21. BUS

  James headed back to his room after dinner, but Kevin and Jake were charging around like lunatics. They flicked each other with towels and had the TV in the lounge turned up way too loud. James yelled at them to pack it in, but they ignored him and he eventually sought refuge in the girls’ room across the hall.

  Kerry opened the door, dressed in a hotel robe and slippers.

  ‘What you up to?’ James asked.

  ‘Watching Ugly Betty,’ Kerry explained, as James stepped into the plush suite.

  James looked around and couldn’t see anyone else. ‘Where’ve they all gone?’

  ‘Bethany and Andy went downstairs to the arcade. Lauren’s doing something or other with Rat and Gabrielle has a headache and went to bed early.’

  ‘How’s Gab doing?’ James asked, as he followed Kerry back to the sofa.

  ‘What do you think?’ Kerry said, a touch of acid in her voice as she turned down the TV. ‘Michael basically ripped her heart out.’

  James pointed to the door. ‘I can go do something else if I’m interrupting your show.’

  ‘Nah, sit down,’ Kerry smiled. ‘They’re about ten episodes ahead over here and I haven’t got a clue what’s going on.’

  They sat together on a huge leather sofa in front of the TV and Kerry moved a big box of chocolates off the table so that it nestled between them. Kerry’s legs looked amazingly smooth and James wondered if she was naked beneath the robe.

  ‘So how’s it going with you and Bruce these days?’

  ‘He’s a good guy,’ Kerry smiled. ‘Did you see the necklace he got me for Christmas? It was so beautiful. It must have cost a bomb.’

  ‘Last time I asked you said there wasn’t much of a spark between you,’ James said, as he dug into the box to take out a chocolate. ‘You said you might break up with him.’

  ‘Bruce is totally different to you,’ Kerry said teasingly. ‘He’s a gentleman.’

  ‘He’s one of my best friends,’ James nodded. ‘Although he’s so obsessed with martial arts and stuff it’s kind of boring. Sometimes it’s all he goes on about.’

  James pulled a crescent-shaped chocolate out of the box, but Kerry slapped his wrist. ‘Don’t scoff all the orange creams. They’re my best ones.’

  ‘Why don’t you come and get it?’ James said, poking out his tongue and balancing the chocolate on the tip before leaning across and sliding his hand into Kerry’s lap.

  Kerry punched him hard in the ribs.

  ‘Owww,’ James gasped, as Kerry stood up. ‘You made me bite my tongue.’

  ‘What planet are you on, James?’ Kerry growled, as she pushed James away with her foot.

  ‘I’m only messing,’ James said.

  ‘I cried for days after you dumped me for Dana. Now she dumps you, and a week later you expect me to throw myself at you like nothing ever happened?’

  ‘Sorry,’ James said, realising that the enticing thought of Kerry being naked under the robe had made him move way too fast.

  ‘You’re disgusting,’ Kerry shuddered. ‘Bruce is supposed to be one of your best friends and he has more respect for me in his little fingernail than you have in your whole body.’

  ‘Kerry, you know I still have feelings for you. I got carried away and I’m really, really—’

  ‘Just leave,’ Kerry growled. ‘Forget it happened, but don’t try it on like that again.’

  *

  After two days of private planes and luxury suites came the harsh reality of a 5.30 a.m. checkout and a four-hour drive to the Fort Reagan training compound in one of the remotest areas of the Nevada Desert. The Reef concierge took Mac aside and gave him a tacky plastic VIP card which would enable him to earn casino points on a future visit, plus a two-for-one coupon at any of the restaurants.

  The tone was polite, but the implication crystal clear: you didn’t gamble enough to justify all the freebies we gave you and if you come back you can pay for your own damned room. There was also a conspicuous absence of help with the luggage and all the kids had to make several runs up and down in the lift to get Kazakov’s stash of equipment down to their pick-up point.

  Their ride was
a shabby green bus, with UNITED STATES ARMY stencilled along each side. The driver was a heavy-set black man, who saluted Kazakov before issuing everyone with hospital style identity bracelets that included a microchip and a tiny photograph. Once fixed on, the plastic bands could only be removed with scissors.

  The bus was large and everyone was still sleepy, so the cherubs spread out and kept quiet as they cruised through the Vegas suburbs and into the open desert as the sun broke the horizon.

  James ended up near the back of the bus with a rather sorry-looking Mac sitting opposite. He kept coughing, so James passed over the bottle of mineral water from his day pack.

  ‘Cheers,’ Mac said, keeping his voice down because Jake was dozing in the row of seats in front. ‘So what did you make of Vegas?’

  ‘Very cool,’ James said. ‘I’m definitely going back when I’m older. How did it go at the tables after dinner?’

  Mac had always been a big man on campus. He seemed different dressed in a crumpled shirt, with stubble and a hangover.

  ‘Dropped another eight hundred bucks,’ Mac smiled. ‘Which was nowhere near enough to keep Julio happy.’

  ‘And your lady friend?’ James asked boldly, half expecting Mac to revert to being an authority figure and telling him to mind his business.

  ‘She was totally in cahoots with Julio,’ Mac said. ‘I was staggering back to my room just after one this morning and she says: “Julio says you ain’t gambled enough for a freebie, so it’s six hundred dollars if you want to sleep with me”.’

  James laughed loud enough to make Jake open one eye. ‘Did you pay her?’ he gasped.

  ‘What kind of person do you think I am?’ Mac said incredulously. ‘I told her I’d rather have a nice cup of tea and sent her packing.’

  *

  By 8 a.m. they were on an Interstate eighty miles outside of Las Vegas. There were strips of fast-food joints and shops every few miles, but they had to stop at a particular one which Kazakov had already phoned to order thirty kegs of beer.