CHERUB: Class A - Robert Muchamore Page 0,78

think they’ve got guys watching outside.’
‘I’m calling the cops right now,’ Beverly said. ‘You find yourself a good place to hide and keep this line open.’
James thought about hiding, but he didn’t think he’d be safe for more than a few minutes. The cops would take longer than that to arrive and even when they did, they’d be unlikely to come charging straight into the house and risk getting shot. James considered hiding out at the top of the stairs and shooting at anyone who tried to come up. It might have worked in a house with one staircase, but Keith’s Miami home had three. Four if you counted the metal walkway that led across to the garage.
The garage.
James realised that was his best chance. He leaned out into the corridor as Beverly said something into the phone.
‘What?’ James asked.
‘I said, the police are on their way. Have you found a safe place to hide?’
‘I don’t think it’s safe up here,’ James said. ‘Someone’s gonna come up looking for me any second.’
‘I told you to hide,’ Beverly said stiffly. ‘Keep calm and wait for the police.’
‘No way,’ James said. ‘I’ve got to bust out.’
He tucked the phone into the waistband of his soggy shorts, without ending the call. He sprinted down the hallway to the master bedroom and found Keith’s trousers on the floor. He grabbed a bunch of keys from the pocket and rapidly flipped through them. There were keys to a couple of the Porsches and a Mercedes, but James thought the huge four-wheel-drive Range Rover would give him his best chance of escape.
When he got back into the hallway, he heard footsteps on the staircase. He fired a shot towards the stairs, knowing it would make the men stay back for a minute or two.
James cautiously opened the door at the end of the hallway. He checked no one was around outside, before stepping on to the metal steps that linked the house to the garage. He opened the door into the garage and walked down a set of spiral stairs to ground level, before unlocking the Range Rover and sliding on to the driver’s seat.
He put the key in the steering column and started the engine. Clipping on his seatbelt to cut off the annoying bing-bong noise, he pressed the button on the dashboard that opened the garage doors and the iron gates at the front of the house.
The wooden doors, less than a metre from the front of the car, began parting slowly. James knew someone would hear them if he just sat waiting. He put the car in drive, floored the accelerator pedal and ploughed through. He had to slam on the brake to avoid a brick wall as chunks of wood sprayed in all directions around the car.
As he put on full steering lock and turned towards the gate, James’ heart sank. The front gates were still closed. The button on the dashboard hadn’t worked. James realised the gunmen must have short-circuited the automatic gate when they broke into the house. The Range Rover might have been able to break them open, but the gunmen had their two cars parked in front of the gates, ready for a quick getaway.
As James looked around, frantically trying to work out an alternative escape, a bullet came out of a first-floor window, ripping through the roof of the car and punching a neat hole through the front passenger seat. James floored the accelerator and spun the car around. He pointed the Range Rover at the thickly planted terraces around the house, hoping the car was powerful enough to punch through a hundred metres of trees and plants. If it was, he’d be able to escape on to the beach at the back of the house.
The chunky front tyres reared on to a set of narrow steps. The car crawled up a gentle slope, rocking from side to side as it trampled bushes and tore a couple of small trees out of the ground. Chunks of stone and wood clattered against the underside of the car, then it hit a massive palm tree and ground to a halt.
The car slipped backwards as a second bullet ripped through the tailgate. The noise made James’ eardrums pop. He thought he might have to bail out and run for it, but the car’s automatic gearbox slipped into its lowest ratio. The rear tyres dug into the soft ground. James dabbed the accelerator. After a touch of wheelspin, the car toppled