CHERUB: Class A - Robert Muchamore Page 0,36

24/7, sending out truckloads of chilled pastas and curries to supermarkets.
Kerry led them into an alleyway between two warehouses.
‘Are you sure you want to do this, Lauren?’ she asked. ‘We could get in serious trouble if we’re caught.’
‘If you want me to help, I’m up for it,’ Lauren said.
‘So what’s this about?’ James asked.
‘I got more information from Dinesh,’ Kerry explained. ‘It’s amazing what you can wheedle out of a boy if he thinks you’re up for a snog.’
‘Did you snog him?’ Lauren asked.
Kerry laughed. ‘No chance.’
James was relieved. It was worth being dragged out of bed at midnight just to hear that.
‘Anyway,’ Kerry said, ‘Dinesh doesn’t get on with his dad. He reckons Mr Singh is a hypocrite when he tells him to behave and do his homework, when he’s a crook himself. So I go: How is your dad a crook? And Dinesh starts explaining how his dad nearly went bankrupt and KMG bailed him out. I said I didn’t believe him. Dinesh tells me there’s a storage building at the back of Thunderfoods’ production plant. He says he’s been inside and seen bags of cocaine. Security seems pretty lax: I’ve already sneaked right up to the warehouse door, but I can’t get inside without my lock gun.’
‘What if there’s a security system?’ James asked.
‘There is,’ Kerry said smugly. ‘You need a swipe card.’
She pulled a plastic card out of her shorts. ‘I nicked this one off Mr Singh.’
‘And what about the beer?’ Lauren asked.
‘We need a cover story,’ Kerry explained. ‘If we get caught, we act like kids who got drunk and decided to cause some mischief.’
Kerry took the beer off Lauren. She pulled the tab and swallowed a few mouthfuls, then dribbled some down her T-shirt.
‘It’s more believable if we’ve got the smell of drink on our clothes and breath.’
James took the can off Kerry and did the same. Lauren hated the taste and spat hers in the gravel. ‘I don’t want to get beer on my new top,’ she said.
‘Give us,’ James said.
He snatched the can off Lauren, poured most of it on the floor and splashed the dregs over her hair.
‘OK,’ Kerry said. ‘Don’t forget to act drunk.’
They staggered through the Thunderfoods car park, keeping behind the cars. Then it was over a stretch of lawn to the side door of the warehouse. James handed Kerry his lock gun.
‘You’re quicker than me,’ he said.
Kerry fiddled with the lock, while James and Lauren sat in the grass yawning. It was an eight-lever deadlock, one of the trickiest kinds to pick.
‘You want me to try?’ James asked.
Kerry sounded edgy. ‘You won’t do it. It needs a different attachment.’
She unscrewed the back of James’ lock gun. There were nine different-shaped picks inside and it was tough to tell them apart in the dark.
‘This one or bust,’ Kerry said, clicking a different pick on to the gun.
She rattled about for another half minute.
‘Finally,’ she sighed, pushing the door open.
The alarm pipped until she swiped the security card. They couldn’t turn the light on in case someone saw it through the windows. It felt spooky, shining their torch beams around the cavernous black space. The racks of metal shelving were filled with sacks and tins of ingredients for the factory next door.
‘Maybe that’s how they get the cocaine into the country,’ James whispered. ‘Disguised as curry powder or something.’
‘No,’ Kerry said. ‘Dinesh described clear bags filled with white powder. And he said KMG people came and did something with it upstairs.’
‘Kerry,’ James said, ‘I hate to say this, but maybe your little boyfriend is just trying to impress you. This building doesn’t even have an upstairs.’
‘We should split up,’ Kerry said, deliberately ignoring James. ‘There’s a lot of shelving to cover.’
They each took a row of shelves and started working along, searching for the white powder. The shelves went up ten metres. You’d need a forklift to access the higher bays.
Lauren whispered to Kerry between the rows of shelves, ‘Come look at this.’
Kerry dashed over. Lauren’s torch shone on a few clear polythene sacks filled with white powder.
‘Borax,’ Lauren said. ‘It’s what you mix with pure cocaine to make the weaker stuff they sell on the street.’
‘How do you know that, Miss Smarty-Pants?’ James asked.
‘I read your mission briefing,’ Lauren said casually.
James tutted. ‘Lauren, do you know how much trouble you could have got in if you’d been caught reading someone else’s mission briefing?’
Lauren laughed. ‘Less than the amount you’d have been in for leaving a secret briefing lying