into four figures when he exchanged them, which was enough to make the next couple of months bearable.
Junior grabbed his school bag off the carpet tiles and pushed the gun back inside his tracksuit as he stepped out of the door. He was appalled to see a silver BMW police cruiser parked directly across the narrow street, with two cops inside munching on breakfast bagels.
Junior choked as he heard Praful locking the shop door to stop him going back inside. As he began to walk, an alarm went off inside Indian Sun. He sped up, hoping that the cops wouldn’t link him to the bell, but the cop on the driver’s side yelled out and he started to run.
It was only a hundred metres to the pedestrianised high street, but the removable bollard that gave access to delivery vans was down and the cruiser went after him. Junior ran flat out past a couple of shops, looking for an alleyway, as a PA announcement ripped out of the tannoy on top of the car.
‘Stop running and raise your hands. Repeat, stop running and raise your hands.’
Junior couldn’t see the cops backing off unless he aimed the gun at them. He noticed a small seating area up ahead and sent a crowd of pigeons fluttering as he charged between two rows of benches, then ducked behind a tall concrete planter.
‘Back off,’ he shouted, waving the gun in the air as a police motorcycle rolled out of a side street behind him and one of the officers stepped out of the car.
‘Put the gun down, son,’ the cop said. ‘You’ll only make things worse for yourself.’
As Junior pointed the gun at the cop, the motorbike growled towards him.
‘Stay back,’ Junior shouted.
He thought about shooting the motorcyclist and running on, but got distracted by another cruiser pulling into the street behind the first. It came up on the opposite side of the benches at speed and braked to a halt less than thirty metres away.
Two cops jumped out of the back and took cover. Both men wore armoured helmets and flak jackets.
‘Put the gun down,’ the driver of the armed response unit shouted over his tannoy, as he cruised forward at walking pace with the two armed officers creeping behind the vehicle.
Junior shook as the gun wavered hopelessly above his head. He had enough sense to know he wasn’t going to outrun two cars and a motorbike. He considered taking a shot, but couldn’t help thinking that the police marksmen were more likely to shoot him than he was to shoot them with his converted piece of junk.
That left two options: put the gun down and get busted or turn the gun on himself. And suicide seemed fleetingly attractive as he imagined his mum’s reaction to him getting busted again and the way Sasha’s crew would piss themselves laughing when they found out he’d been caught. Maybe the reason they’d all treated him like a baby was because that’s exactly what he was …
‘Put it down son,’ the cop who’d stepped out of the first car said. ‘You’re not old enough to die.’
And maybe it was just a line he’d been taught at police training college, but something in the voice was sincere enough to calm Junior down. He lowered his arm before throwing the gun into the bushes and standing up slowly with his hands above his head.
‘Come on then, you slags,’ Junior said, as he fought off tears. ‘Put me back where I belong.’
42. RUSH
Chief Inspector Mark Rush was in charge of the anti-gang taskforce. He was the only officer within the Bedfordshire force who knew about the CHERUB operation and had met regularly with Chloe and Maureen since the mission began four months earlier. He’d watched the CHERUB agents on surveillance operations and been involved in Michael’s arrest and questioning after the death of Owen Campbell-Moore, but he’d never spoken to any of the teenagers directly.
Now that the mission was coming to its close, Inspector Rush asked to meet the agents – including Gabrielle – so that he could say thanks and brief them on the final take-down. Chloe agreed, but to minimise the chances of everyone being seen together, she set up the meeting in the private function room of an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of London, half an hour from Luton.
Five days had passed since Junior got busted and James was still beating himself up about it. He was also missing Dana and weighed down with guilt