Mad Dogs

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘Oh crap!’ James gasped.

  ‘I totally freaked,’ Junior continued. ‘I mean, I didn’t mind playing along when I didn’t think they’d take me, but once I realised that I was like millimetres from going back to boarding school I went nuts. I started making really loud chicken noises and there were some little kids outside the window and I leaned up to the glass and yelled do any of you fags want to buy cocaine?’

  James laughed uneasily. ‘You’re a nutter.’ He was worried about the way Junior was going off the rails.

  ‘It got me out of the school, but it wasn’t really funny ’cos my mum was bawling her eyes out,’ Junior said. ‘I mean, I know she cares about me, James, but I wish she’d leave me alone. I’m never gonna be the little lawyer that she wants me to be. I ended up promising that I was going to knuckle down at school and try getting my GCSEs.’

  ‘So she was OK after that?’

  ‘She was better, but she’s not a Muppet. Just because I’m in school today doesn’t mean that I’ll be in school tomorrow … And you know what I was talking about the other night?’

  ‘What?’ James said, though he knew and he’d been dreading it.

  ‘I’ve got a job,’ Junior said. ‘There’s a kid in my tutor group called Alom. His parents run some chicken-shit travel agency in town. They’ve got a bureau de change in there as well and there’s always cash in the safe because they do money transfers. You know, like people sending money home to their relatives abroad and that?’

  ‘And what do you know about cracking safes?’ James asked cynically.

  ‘Not a sausage, but I do know how to stick a gun to someone’s temple and say, Open the safe or I’m gonna decorate the wall with your brains.’

  As Junior said this he unzipped his school pack, revealing a gun. James eyed the rough metal seams, and noticed that the handle was made out of shiny plastic instead of wood.

  ‘That’s so fake,’ James said. ‘It looks like an Airfix kit.’

  ‘It’s a blank firing replica,’ Junior said. ‘But it’s been drilled out to fire real ammunition.’

  Britain has some of the tightest gun controls in the world. These crudely converted weapons were common, but James wasn’t impressed.

  ‘I wouldn’t touch one of those,’ he warned. ‘You pull the trigger and it’s as likely to explode in your hand as fire a bullet.’

  ‘But the dude’s not gonna know that when I stick it in his face, is he? And besides, you’ve got that little gun. That’s a quality piece.’

  ‘When are you gonna do it?’ James asked, as they walked past a huge crowd of kids at a bus stop.

  ‘I cased the joint last night. They open early and shut late.’

  James shook his head. ‘Junior, you don’t case a joint in one night. Me and Bruce spent three weeks looking at that hard front before Sasha moved on it.’

  ‘It’s one old Indian dude,’ Junior said, sounding narked. ‘He carries the key to the safe with a big bunch of other keys on his belt. We get up early tomorrow morning. We grab him just as he opens, he pulls out the money and we’re out with five grand in under five minutes.’

  ‘Sorry mate, but I don’t like it,’ James said.

  ‘What!’ Junior gasped. ‘This is a sweet job, James. I’ve had my eye on it for a while.’

  ‘Sasha won’t—’

  Junior cut him off. ‘Don’t mention that man’s name, OK? Maybe you’re raking it in, but I’ve got six quid and an HMV voucher my mum gave me for Easter; and that’s no exaggeration.’

  James decided to play for time. ‘I’m not saying no, but remember what I said about getting some money together and setting up our own crew properly? I can lend you a few hundred to tide you over until then.’

  ‘I’m sick of hand-outs,’ Junior yelled. ‘All my life I’ve been Keith Moore’s son, or I’ve had my mum on my back, or Sasha looking out for me. I want my own action. I can rob the travel agent tomorrow. Then I’ll use the money to buy some coke and grass and I can sell it around at school. The sixth formers snort and smoke like there’s no tomorrow, but they’re too scared to approach a dealer on the street so they’ll always pay over the odds. Give it a month and we could have twenty or thirty grand, fit girls on our arms and all the white powder we can stick up our noses.’

  James shrugged. ‘It just isn’t the right time for me, Junior.’

  ‘You know what your problem is?’ Junior sneered. ‘You’re chicken.’

  James tutted. ‘Yeah I’m chicken. I just helped take down a hard front for Sasha. That’s how chicken I am.’

  ‘There you go again,’ Junior shouted. ‘Sasha, Sasha, Sasha. Stick with him then, arsehole. I planned the travel agent as a one-man job anyway, so I’m going in tomorrow whether you and your boyfriend like it or not.’

  ‘Junior, calm down,’ James said, as he tried to grab Junior’s arm. ‘There’s kids everywhere.’

  But Junior shoved James away. ‘Get your hands off me. You’re treating me like a baby, same as everyone else.’

  ‘Come on, mate,’ James said.

  Junior’s push almost knocked him into a Year-Eight kid walking behind them.

  By the time James had regained his footing and told the kid he was sorry, Junior was storming down the road. James knew there was no point going after him.

  *

  Bruce was lying on his bed at the Zoo when Chloe called.

  ‘The meeting went really well,’ she said. ‘Simeon’s going to set up a deal for next Wednesday. The ethics committee aren’t gonna be happy when they hear about the hard front, so this is going to be our only shot at taking down Major Dee and Sasha before we’re all hauled back to campus.’

  ‘At least we’ve got a chance,’ Bruce said hopefully.

  ‘Simeon is making all the right noises, but he’s hardly what I’d call trustworthy and we’ll have to keep our eyes on him. I want you and James to stick as close to Sasha as you can. He seems pleased with you boys, so hopefully he’ll drop some hints at the planning stage. The police have also been doing surveillance on Sasha, but so far they’ve got nothing except blurry photos and I wouldn’t hold out much hope of things improving.’

  ‘It’s a small crew,’ Bruce said. ‘So even if we’re not involved in the planning, Sasha’s bound to want us involved in the robbery.’

  ‘Hopefully so,’ Chloe said. ‘I’m going to ask Michael to do exactly the same for Major Dee’s side of the operation. I’m liaising with Chief Inspector Rush on the anti-gang taskforce, but he’s concerned that his unit isn’t a hundred per cent leak free, so he’s getting experts in from another force to run the surveillance operation. The local coppers won’t be told what’s going on until shortly before they have to move in and make arrests.’

  ‘I’ll make sure James is in the loop,’ Bruce said.

  ‘Where’s he disappeared to?’

  ‘He went to meet Junior,’ Bruce said, as he glanced at the watch resting on his bedside table. ‘I thought they’d go into town or something, but James called to say that he was coming back here, so I expect we’ll head over to Sasha’s later on.’

  ‘OK, keep in touch,’ Chloe said.

  Bruce put his phone down and headed off to the toilet for a pee. James was in the bedroom when he got back and he wasn’t happy.

  ‘Junior’s such a moron,’ James yelled furiously, as he pulled his top off and flung it at his bed.

  ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘He’s got a crappy converted pistol and he’s planning to rob some travel agent first thing tomorrow morning. I did everything I could to talk him out of it, but he won’t listen.’

  Bruce shrugged. ‘He’s a spoilt brat. What did you expect?’

  James looked surprised. ‘I thought you said he was OK.’

  ‘Sure, he’s a good laugh. But he’s wasted all the time and it’s pretty clear to anyone with a couple of brain cells that his career path is of the behind-bars variety.’

  James made a throttling gesture with his hands. ‘I
’d love to slap some sense into him.’

  ‘What did Chloe say when you told her?’ Bruce asked.

  ‘Nothing. I haven’t told her.’

  ‘Right, of course,’ Bruce nodded, ‘she would have been engaged ’cos she’s been on the phone to me.’

  ‘I haven’t tried to tell her, Bruce. I don’t plan to either.’

  ‘What?’ Bruce said, raising his eyebrows. ‘If it’s just a stick-up they can make it look like the cops happened to be walking by so that our cover doesn’t get blown.’

  ‘But I don’t want Junior to get sent down,’ James said, sitting on the edge of his bed and grinding his palms against his cheeks. ‘I know he’s a basket case, but I happen to like the guy and I don’t want to be responsible.’

  ‘And what if he loses his rag and shoots someone in the head?’ Bruce asked. ‘Do you want that one on your conscience?’

  ‘I …’ James mumbled, contorting his arms and hating the fact that he was in the wrong. ‘This is all my fault. It was me winding him up about the money that made him storm out of Sasha’s gaff the other night.’

  ‘Give over, James,’ Bruce said. ‘You didn’t help, but he was heading for trouble before you got anywhere near him.’

  ‘I really like Junior. He’s not, like, just someone on a mission.’

  Bruce smiled. ‘You care because he’s you, James.’

  ‘What are you on about?’

  ‘Before you came to CHERUB your mum was a crook, just like Junior’s dad. You were spoiled and you’d been in trouble with the police, like Junior. You’re both bright but lazy. You’ve both got a quick temper. Junior is exactly what you would have become if you hadn’t joined CHERUB and been knocked into shape.’

  James could see some truth in this, but he wasn’t going to admit that Bruce was right. ‘That’s so dumb,’ he sneered. ‘Why can’t I just like the guy?’

  ‘James, at least if he gets picked up tomorrow he’s still only fifteen. It’s armed robbery and he’s already on parole so they’ll hammer him, but he’ll only get five or six years because he’s not an adult. By the time he gets out he’ll be close to getting his trust-fund money and hopefully he’ll settle down.’

  ‘This is such crap,’ James moaned, screwing up his face as he reached into his tracksuit bottoms and grabbed his mobile to call Chloe. ‘I can’t believe I’ve got to grass him up …’

  41. JUNIOR

  Junior got up at 7:30 a.m. and felt queasy as he showered in his en-suite bathroom. He put on his uniform because he wanted his mum to think that he was going to school, but he packed trainers, gloves and a blue Adidas tracksuit on top of the gun in his school bag.

  Part of Junior wanted to back out, but that’s what everyone would expect and he was determined to prove he was his own man. Plus, he’d always dreamed of having his own crew and he reckoned James would come around to his way of thinking once he’d made some money.

  Junior’s twin, April, sat at the dining table downstairs in her blue jumper and white school tights. She had her science books spread out and seemed to have brain ache as she stared at her chemistry textbook.

  ‘It’s a miracle,’ April grinned, glancing at her watch as her brother stepped into the kitchen. ‘Did you wet the bed or something?’

  ‘Nah,’ Junior shrugged. ‘I thought I might get in early and kick a ball around with the lads before class.’

  In fact, the combo of a stretch in young offenders and major-league truancy meant that Junior hardly knew anyone at his school; but April didn’t know that.

  ‘I really hope you keep your promise to Mum this time,’ April said. ‘You’re no genius, but you’re not thick either. I know you’re behind with your GCSE work, but if you’re serious about going back to school, I could help you to catch up over the summer holidays. Or maybe Mum could pay for a tutor …’

  ‘Yeah maybe,’ Junior said, dreading the thought of a summer tutor as he pushed a couple of white slices into the toaster. ‘What are you swotting for?’

  ‘Chemistry mock,’ April said.

  ‘I wish you were more of a laugh like in the old days,’ Junior said. ‘Before Dad went to prison we went to youth club together and had all the same mates and everything. Now you hang with boffins.’

  April laughed. ‘My mates are the normal ones, Junior. They go to school, they do their homework and have a laugh at the weekend. No snorting coke, no robbery and nobody getting locked up for six months …’

  ‘Stiffs,’ Junior snorted. Then he mocked his sister’s voice: ‘Yeah, and Sharon only got sixty-two per cent in her French and it served her right ’cos she totally sucks up to Miss LeFromage. I really hope Matt’s at the party on Saturday because he makes my knickers wet every time he walks in the room. OOOOOOOH!’

  April tutted. ‘Can’t you shut up? I’m revising.’

  ‘It’s only a mock.’

  April looked up from her books and eyed her brother closely. ‘What’s going on, Junior?’

  He feigned innocence. ‘What makes you think I’m up to anything?’

  ‘Twin telepathy,’ April said. ‘You’re fidgeting, your head’s all sweaty and you’ve started on me for no reason. Tell us where you’re going.’

  ‘Nowhere … well, except school.’

  ‘You should stop hanging around with that idiot James Beckett,’ April said. ‘He’s bad news.’

  ‘He’s a mate,’ Junior shrugged.

  ‘He’s a complete tosser.’

  ‘You’re only saying that because you had a big thing for him and he dumped you.’

  April shook her head. ‘That was three years ago. I had a crush, but I was twelve and now I’m totally over it. Can’t you settle down? Don’t you think that you’ve put Mum through enough already?’

  Junior’s toast popped up and he sauntered off to butter it without answering the question.

  ‘I’ve gotta catch my bus,’ April said, checking her watch as she gathered her books into her backpack. ‘I wish you’d sort yourself out. You drive me up the pole, but you’re still my twin and I care about you.’

  ‘I care about you too,’ Junior said, as he bit the first corner off his toast. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll see you tonight.’

  Junior watched as April went out the garden door and crunched across the gravel to the street. The twins were past the age where they needed help getting ready for school, and unless Julie Moore had an early tennis lesson she usually stayed in bed until they were out of the way.

  After he’d finished his toast, Junior walked into the hall and checked that his mum was watching GMTV upstairs before cutting into the living-room. He didn’t want to risk bumping into his sister at the bus stop, so he called the mini-cab office at the end of the road and arranged to be picked up on the corner in ten minutes’ time. Then he ripped off his school tie and started changing into his tracksuit and trainers.

  *

  Indian Sun was a thriving business in a side street a couple of hundred metres from Luton’s main shopping area. The lettering in the windows offered package tours to Goa from £499, but the shop mainly served the area’s large Asian population, with everything from cheap calling cards to money transfers and airline tickets.

  Junior thought Indian Sun was a good target because of two things he’d learned from the Mad Dogs. Firstly, places that exchange and transfer money usually have larger sums of cash on hand than banks, but are often family businesses with much lower levels of security. Secondly, for a variety of religious and cultural reasons people from Asian backgrounds are less likely to use credit cards and often purchase large items with cash. This trait means businesses with lots of Asian customers are targeted by armed robbers.

  Junior didn’t want his driver to identify him after the robbery, so he got the cab to drop him a couple of kilometres from Indian Sun. He walked the rest of the way, heading down the high street in sunglasses and a baseball cap, keeping his head down to avoid being picked up by security cameras. It was still before nine and all the
shops had their shutters down.

  He was shaking as he turned into the side street, surprised that it was quite lively. Four women with too much make-up on stood huddled in the staff entrance of a department store. The newsagents had a stream of customers, as did the Bagel Basket directly opposite Indian Sun.

  The travel agency was also open, its metal sign with a list of exchange rates standing on the pavement, but only one of its three white shutters had been opened. A shudder ripped through Junior as soon as he eyed the target. He patted his hand against his body for a reassuring feel of the gun strapped to his side.

  Junior’s mind was going at warp speed and he kept thinking about April and his mum as he pulled on a pair of leather gloves; but he was confident about pulling the raid off. Sasha had always protected Junior from actually being involved in robberies committed by the Mad Dogs, but he’d heard Wheels and the rest of the crew talking about crimes they’d committed and their constant bickering over the best ways of doing stuff.

  While opinions differed on the details, everyone agreed the basic: case the joint, use overwhelming force, be quick, don’t leave forensic evidence, wear bland clothes, cover your face so that you don’t get picked up on CCTV cameras and mix it up so that the police can never predict what you’ll do next.

  There are no certainties when people go around with guns and almost everyone’s luck runs out, but when crooks stick to the rules, their chances of getting caught on any individual robbery are slim.

  An electric chime startled Junior as he stepped through the agency door. As expected, the shop had been unlocked by Praful Patel, an elderly man who’d set up Indian Sun more than twenty years earlier. The giant bunch of keys was hooked to his belt loop with a spring-loaded clip.

  The only trouble was, there were two tough-looking dudes sitting across the desk from him. The stocky men looked like they hailed from the Balkans and the dried-out mud on their boots suggested that they were builders. A small bunch of ten-and twenty-pound notes sat on the desk and Praful Patel was patiently filling out a three-part counterfoil with the brightly coloured logo of a wire transfer agency at the top.