CHERUB: Brigands M.C. - Robert Muchamore Page 0,36

in!’

Jake yelped as the girl who’d thrown him over the table called him a moron and deadened his arm with a brutal punch.

As suddenly as the fracas started, everyone hurried back to their seats because Zara had entered the dining-room. Something had happened, but all she saw were twenty young faces with what, me? expressions.

Jake groaned as the older girl threw him back towards where he’d been sitting.

‘Bethany,’ Zara said firmly. ‘What have I told you about fighting with your brother?’

‘It’s nothing,’ the girl said. ‘We were just messing around, weren’t we?’

Jake clutched his arm and scowled, but he confirmed his sister’s story with a nod.

As Dante sat down he noticed that Zara was holding a pair of red CHERUB T-shirts sealed in polythene bags.

‘Since you’ve got so much energy, Bethany,’ Zara said, ‘I’d like you to take our two new recruits Lauren and Dante across to the junior block. Find them some beds and help them to settle in. They’ll need clothes, towels and I expect they’ll want a shower after all they’ve been through today.’

As Zara handed over the red T-shirts, Bethany reached across and tapped Lauren on the shoulder.

‘Welcome to CHERUB,’ Bethany said. ‘There’s an empty bed in my room if you’d like to bunk in with me.’

In the background, a couple of boys came across to say hello. Dante and Lauren said a quick goodbye to Zara before Bethany led them out into the hallway.

‘All us red shirts live in the junior block,’ Bethany explained as they walked. ‘It’s pretty cool. We’ve got our own classrooms, and a big home-cinema room where we watch movies and if you like animals there’s a pet lounge with guinea pigs and mice, frogs and stuff.’

‘I’m sorry about what happened with your brother,’ Dante said. ‘It was only bread. I should have ignored it.’

‘It’s best not to get into too many fights until you’ve got a few months’ combat training under your belt,’ Bethany warned. ‘But you don’t have to apologise to me. Jake’s a total dickhead.’

Part Two

Four and a half years later …

13. COFFEE

May 2008

Sealclubber was the wrong side of forty, with a white beard, a gallery of tattoos and a taste for huge silver rings. The head of the London Brigands looked out of place in the basement of a Starbucks near King’s Cross station.

‘Coffee here costs more than a pint,’ Sealclubber complained, glancing at the elderly Seiko on his wrist as a twenty-year-old Asian man sat down opposite. ‘Twenty minutes I’ve sat here. This better be worth it.’

Dressed in trainers and a muscle tee, the Asian plopped a raspberry mocha Frappuccino on the table top and dropped a backpack to the floor between his legs.

‘Northern line sucks,’ he shrugged. ‘Hopefully I was worth the wait.’

The surrounding tables were covered with crumbs and empty mugs, but the lunchtime rush was over and the nearest person was a suit and tie using his laptop in a booth five metres away.

Sealclubber took a square note that the Asian man fed across the table and read it to himself: 70 AK47 assault rifles, 12 cases of 24x Swiss Army issue grenades, 40 generic .357 revolvers, 20 H&K machine pistols, 18,000 rounds M43 type ammunition, 5000 rounds .357 ammunition. Price £632,000 for delivery to specified UK location.

‘You starting World War Three?’ Sealclubber asked quietly, as he leaned further across the table. ‘Because this is a lot of shit, you know? My compadres down in Devon, their business is mostly villains: drug dealers and nightclub bouncers who like a piece of metal by their sides. Ten guns is a big order for them.’

The Asian man looked disappointed. ‘Can you supply this or not? I can have the ten per cent deposit delivered to your clubhouse as soon as you need it.’

Sealclubber was torn: he wanted to say yes on the spot and grab the commission, but he had no idea who the Asian man was and in the criminal world the more money someone has the worse an idea it is to mess them about.

‘I’ve got to talk with my people,’ Sealclubber said. ‘You don’t need to worry. Don’t start looking for alternative suppliers or anything like that, but I’m a businessman and I’m not gonna make you promises I can’t keep.’

‘We’re offering you a lot of money,’ the Asian man said. ‘You can buy these guns in the USA a tenth of this price.’

Sealclubber flexed his fingers and his silver rings dazzled the Asian as he smiled. ‘You can buy most of

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