Urban Outlaws

by Peter Jay Black

  She peered through her binoculars at the opposite roof. ‘How are you doing, Slink?’

  Slink grunted. ‘It won’t work.’ He was raking the lock with one of the picks while using a torsion wrench to apply pressure.

  ‘You can do it,’ Charlie said. ‘Just like I showed you, remember?’

  ‘I can’t – It won’t –’ There was a snapping sound. ‘No. It broke.’

  ‘There’s a spare in the case,’ Charlie said, her voice strained but trying to keep calm.

  ‘Sixty seconds.’

  Slink fumbled another pick from the case and started raking the lock again.

  Jack felt his chest tighten, but he knew his anxiety must be mild compared to what Slink was feeling right at that moment. If he failed to get that door open . . . Game Over.

  ‘No, no, no.’

  ‘Stop,’ Charlie said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said stop, Slink.’

  Jack lowered the binoculars and stared at her. ‘What are you doing?’ Time was almost out.

  Charlie ignored him. ‘Slink, just trust me.’

  Obi said, ‘Thirty seconds.’

  Jack swore under his breath and raised the binoculars.

  Beads of sweat stood out from Slink’s forehead. He pulled the pick from the lock, stepped back and wiped his brow with a sleeve.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Charlie said. ‘Deep breaths.’

  Jack heard Slink pull in a lungful of air. And another. Without thinking, Jack breathed with him.

  ‘Hardy’s twenty seconds out,’ Obi said. ‘What are you guys doing?’

  ‘Zip it, Obi,’ Charlie hissed. ‘You’re not helping.’ She composed herself. ‘Ready, Slink?’

  Slink opened his eyes, stepped to the door and slid the picks into the lock.

  ‘Fifteen seconds.’

  Jack heard the click in his ear as the lock released.

  Slink threw open the door, reached into his back pocket, pulled out a u-shaped device and hurried inside.

  ‘Ten . . . Five . . .’

  Slink said, ‘Done.’

  Charlie grinned and slid the netbook to Jack.

  A window popped up and a stream of numbers scrolled down the screen. The device Slink had just planted in the network control box was tapping directly into the building’s computers. Anything they did now, the system would think was coming from Hardy’s computer.

  Slink couldn’t have put it there any earlier because when the system detected a drop in network signal it automatically called the engineer. Leaving it to the last minute bought them time. They had twenty minutes to get what they wanted before the engineer arrived, found out what was going on, and the alarms sounded.

  Jack switched to the live video feed of Hardy’s office. Sure enough, Richard Hardy entered and sat at his desk, facing the window. He had a pompous expression and Jack wanted to see it wiped off his smug face.

  When Charlie had explained how the hardware worked, Jack was not only amazed by her knowledge, but by the fact that she could build such a device.

  In order to see Richard Hardy’s computer screen – which faced away from the window – Charlie had built a custom telescope. It captured precise laser measurements of the chrome vase and combined these with a high-resolution image of the reflection from the vase. Together they created a flat picture of the room, as though they’d placed a mirror behind Richard Hardy.

  Charlie adjusted the telescope, zooming in as far as the optics would allow. Jack let out a breath as the software compensated with no errors. They now had a clear view of the keyboard and monitor over Hardy’s shoulder. Everything they needed.

  A login screen appeared on Hardy’s computer display and Jack hit the Record button. Hardy first typed his username and then his password. Last, he pressed his finger on a biometric scanner.

  Jack stopped the recording and played it back. The telescope had captured every keystroke. He pulled a mobile phone from his pocket and connected it to the netbook. In another window, he brought up the same screen Hardy was now using and mimicked the keystrokes.

  Username: BLUE STRIKE. Password: DOLLAR.

  A new box popped up.

  Biometric authentication required.

  A cursor blinked.

  Jack grabbed the image of Hardy’s fingerprint and copied it across.

  Authorised.

  Jack waited, his own finger hovering over the Enter key. He had to be patient.

  After what seemed an eternity, Hardy finally logged off and left the office.

  ‘Thanks for all your help, idiot,’ Jack muttered, and he set to work. The bank account page flashed up and he looked at the balance: two million, three hundred thousand.

  The money would’ve only been in the account a few days but that was an eternity because Jack needed less than a minute. He clicked the transactions tab, entered sort codes, account numbers, and left the reference name field blank.

  He smiled when it was time to type in the amounts to transfer: one million and then fifty thousand. He was about to hit the Enter key when Charlie grabbed the netbook from him.

  ‘We can’t take that much, Jack. It’s greedy.’ She retyped the amount as one million and one thousand pounds, and hit the Proceed button before Jack had time to argue with her.

  The browser returned to the main account page and they rechecked the balance. Hardy and his friend Del Sarto were now over a million pounds lighter.

  Jack disconnected the phone, removed the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed the pieces off the roof.

  Charlie took apart the telescope and put everything back in her hip bag.

  For a second, they stared at each other. They’d done it. All the planning had paid off. Another job completed.

  Jack cupped his hand over the microphone. ‘Slink, get yourself out of there.’

  ‘Already halfway home,’ came the reply.

  ‘Er, guys?’ Obi’s voice sounded anxious.

  ‘What?’ Jack said.

  ‘We got a problem. Transferring it now.’

  An image filled the netbook screen and it showed a live CCTV view of the alleyway below. A second security guard had found the first and was helping him to his feet. After a hurried conversation, the first guard located his gun and they both ran into the building.

  ‘Oh, great,’ Jack said, folding the netbook and sliding it into his hip bag.

  Charlie said to Jack, ‘Any other exits?’ He shook his head. She glanced behind them. ‘Only one way then.’

  Jack groaned. ‘I ever tell you I’m scared of heights?’

  ‘Hey,’ Charlie said, clipping her hip bag to her belt, ‘it was your idea, remember?’ She actually looked excited by the prospect of what was to come.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jack said, finding the strap on his own bag and fixing it securely to his leg, ‘but I only agreed to do it as a last resort.’

  The door to the roof burst open.

  ‘I’d say that’s exactly what this is.’ Charlie turned, sprinted across the rooftop, and propelled herself off the edge of the building.

  The security guards stood motionless, eyes wide, jaws slack.

  After a moment, they regained their senses and pointed their guns at Jack.

  ‘Don’t you move, kid.’

  Without allowing himself time to think, Jack turned and ran as fast as he could.

  Deafening shots rang out but it was too late – he leapt on to the ledge of the building and launched himself into nothing but open air.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A couple of seconds of free fall was not enough time to offer a prayer to any God that might be listening. Jack pulled the ripcord and a sudden jolt snapped his head back.

  He looked up and was relieved to see the black parachute had deployed with no problems.

  Once he’d overcome the immediate relief of still being alive, Jack gripped the steering toggles and looked for Charlie. The cold wind stung his eyes and blurred his vision but he heard her unmistakable squeals of delight coming fr
om the left.

  Jack pulled on the toggles and turned in the same direction. He saw Charlie’s silhouette glide between the buildings and he followed her through.

  Ahead, Jack spotted the park. Judging by their flight path and factoring in the wind, their angle of descent was good – they’d land smack in the centre. Well, hopefully a gentle touchdown and not so much of a smack.

  Sirens pierced the night and Jack strained his neck round in time to see the flashing blue lights of several police cars converging behind them. He shouted after Charlie but she didn’t hear.

  A gust of wind caught Jack’s parachute and sent him flying right, heading straight for the side of a building, his reflection growing ever larger.

  He let out a shout of panic and yanked on the toggles as hard as he could. At the last split second the parachute swung away, brushing the side of the building, the fabric sliding over the glass. After a few more terrifying seconds, Jack managed to regain control but now he was way off course.

  He looked back at the fast-approaching cop cars. They were right behind him now and catching up.

  Jack spun to face the front again and gauged the distance from the edge of the park to the landing zone to be around thirty or so metres. The police cars would have to stop at the entrance and go in on foot. He made a quick calculation. That meant they had around sixty seconds to gather their chutes and escape.

  Jack tried his headset.

  Charlie didn’t answer.

  He wanted to warn her that they had to be quick, but he needn’t have bothered because she kept glancing back, obviously aware the police were on to them too.

  She glided over the surrounding tree line of the park and vanished.

  Jack raised his legs but it wasn’t enough, and his foot snagged a branch. He spun helplessly below the parachute, the cords wrapping around one another. There was a loud snapping sound that made his heart almost stop. Luckily, it was a branch and not his leg.

  His jeans caught on another branch and he fell forward, breaking free of the tree but now spiralling out of control. He hit the ground hard, sending a bolt of pain through his knees, up his thighs and into his spine.

  Jack rolled to lessen the impact but the damage was already done.

  The parachute canopy landed over him and everything went dark.

  Breathing heavily, Jack squeezed his eyes shut and fought the urge to cry out in pain. At least he’d made it to the ground alive.

  A few seconds later, he heard the screech of tyres as the police cars stopped at the main entrance.

  Jack struggled to free his legs but they hurt like mad and were wrapped in the lines. Defeated, he lay back and wondered if Charlie had got away.

  He’d just closed his eyes again when he felt something tugging on the parachute cords. There was a tearing sound and the canopy above his head ripped open.

  Bleary-eyed, he squinted into the moonlight. ‘Charlie? What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m not leaving you.’ The glint of a blade flashed as she sliced through the ropes and canopy.

  Jack heard the police shouting and tried to shove Charlie off him. ‘Go. Get out of here.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Charlie snapped. More slicing, and she released his legs.

  Jack shrugged out of the harness and Charlie pulled him to his feet. He winced. His legs still hurt but at least they were working. Nothing broken.

  Torch beams bounced all around them, flashing as they moved through the trees.

  Charlie grabbed Jack’s hand and they hurried to the boathouse by the lake. They ducked behind a low wall just as three police officers ran past.

  ‘They’re here somewhere,’ one of them said, already sounding out of breath.

  Jack and Charlie kept still as they waited for them to pass. When he was sure they were far enough away, Jack peered over the wall.

  The manhole cover was fifteen metres from them.

  Fifteen metres.

  They’d never make it.

  His eyes darted around the park, searching for another way out. The police had every exit covered and they were now spreading out and systematically searching the grounds.

  Trapped.

  Jack ducked behind the wall and tried to clear his head, but the pain in his legs kept distracting him. He massaged the muscles and closed his eyes.

  ‘Jack?’ Charlie whispered.

  ‘I’m thinking.’ In his mind’s eye, he imagined the park from above: the railings around the outside, the three entrances, the cop cars and their probable locations, and their goal – the manhole cover. But how to get to it without being seen?

  Jack thought about making a run for it but the night was clear, the moon out, not a chance. Especially with his stiff legs. No, what they needed was a distraction. Something that would at least let Charlie escape.

  Sure enough, a few seconds later, he had it.

  His eyes snapped open and he looked at Charlie. ‘Give me your bag.’

  Charlie unclipped the hip bag from her belt and slid it over to him. He unzipped it, rummaged inside and pulled out the telescope. He glanced at Charlie. ‘Sorry about this.’ He started to unscrew the end.

  ‘Hey,’ Charlie hissed, ‘what are you doing?’

  ‘Relax. I won’t break it.’ Though, he couldn’t guarantee that. Jack removed the cap and carefully slid out the camera and laser assembly.

  He’d watched Charlie build this and knew exactly what he wanted. He unclipped the laser and its battery pack, then he slipped the telescope into the bag and handed it back to Charlie.

  Keeping low, Jack peered over the wall. There were four cops to his right, a few metres away. Ahead was an open lawn area, and beyond that was a bench in front of some bushes. That would have to do.

  Jack rested the laser on top of the wall and switched it on. He aimed the beam through the slats of the bench and into the bushes.

  The green light illuminated the leaves.

  Jack glanced at the four cops. They hadn’t spotted it yet, so he waggled the light left and right until it finally got their attention. He saw one of the officers point, put a finger to his lips and gesture for them to split up.

  Good. They thought it was something glowing in the bushes and not being beamed from a distance away.

  The cops moved slowly towards the bushes.

  They were as dumb as cats.

  Charlie grinned.

  When he gauged the police were far enough away, Jack turned off the laser. ‘Let’s go.’

  Charlie helped Jack over the wall and they jogged to the manhole cover.

  Jack knelt and heaved it open.

  Charlie climbed down the metal ladder inside and Jack followed her. Below, he lowered the cover silently back into place, and dropped beside Charlie as she flicked on her torch. They were now standing in a large brick sewer tunnel. On either side was a narrow walkway.

  Jack unclipped his own torch from his belt and switched it on. ‘Come on,’ he said, wanting to put as much distance between them and the cops as possible. He was sure they’d be scratching their heads for hours wondering where Jack and Charlie had gone.

  As they walked, the only sound came from the soft squelch under their feet. The smell didn’t bother either of them any more – they were used to it.

  They reached an intersection and went right. Two more lights sparkled in the distance. Jack whistled their code: three musical notes – one short and low, one high, the last a long mid-tone.

  The three rapid high chirps in reply signified friends ahead, and Slink and Wren’s faces appeared through the gloom.

  Wren looked somewhere between anxious and excited. She rocked from side to side, wringing her hands.

  ‘You OK?’ Charlie asked her. Wren nodded. Charlie ruffled her blonde locks. ‘You were brilliant.’

  Wren smiled.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jack said. The sooner they were home, the quicker he could rest his screaming muscles and check for any further damage.

  ‘Wait.’ Charlie handed
Jack her bag and strode off down the right-hand tunnel.

  Jack called after her, ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Food.’

  ‘Thank God,’ Slink said. ‘Obi’s been driving me crazy.’

  ‘He’s been driving us all crazy,’ Jack said, as they headed down the left-hand tunnel with Wren trotting after them.

  • • •

  Twenty minutes later, they were in the tube network standing on Badbury platform – an abandoned underground train station. Paint and plaster peeled off the ceiling in large chunks. The main flight of stairs had disintegrated. Now all that remained were the slots in the wall where the steps had once been.

  Dirty tiles covered the rest of the walls, overlaid with faded posters from the nineteen-fifties. Some advertised films that Jack had never heard of, like Too Many Crooks, The Horse’s Mouth and Some Like It Hot. Even though Jack had never seen any of the films, he recognised the star of the last one – Marilyn Monroe.

  A low rumble signified the approach of a train. It was unlikely anyone would spot them in the dark but there was still a chance the driver might. They hid behind the pillars and Wren cupped her hands over her ears as the deafening clatter echoed off the walls.

  Wind whipped through the tunnel, stirring up rubbish and bringing a warm breeze that stank of oil. The wheels crackled and sparked on the tracks, the bright flashes of light sending strange shadows bouncing around them.

  Jack caught glimpses of the passengers as they hurtled by: businessmen and women reading newspapers, students wearing headphones, mothers trying to control their unruly children. They were people with normal, boring lives, unaware Jack and the others existed, oblivious to the hidden world just metres away from them.

  Once the train had passed, and it was safe again, Jack, Slink and Wren crossed the tracks. On the other side of the platform was a rusty metal door and its hinges groaned as Slink swung it open.

  Beyond the door they walked down a narrow service corridor. When they reached the end, Slink slid back the concertina grille to a wooden lift and stepped inside.

  Jack knew it was at least a hundred years old. It was full of woodworm and so rotten it seemed as though it could fall apart with the slightest touch.