Lone Wolf - Robert Muchamore Page 0,38

live, doc?’ James asked cheerfully.

‘He’ll live, but he’s taken a battering. Two or three days in bed resting those swollen ribs.’

‘Nothing broken?’

The doctor shook her head, then craned forward and tapped Ryan’s cheek. ‘Is it numb yet?’

‘Yeah,’ Ryan agreed.

The doctor placed a sterile pack on the table beside the bed. After telling Ryan to sit up straight she ripped the pack open and took out a needle, pre-threaded with sterile cord.

‘Unfortunately your lip is going to need five or six stitches.’

Ryan flinched and felt queasy as the doctor moved the needle towards him.

‘The more you fidget, the longer it’ll take,’ the doctor warned.

And while his face was numb, Ryan still felt like he was going to puke as the needle speared his bloody lip.

22. GATES

Two days later

Fitting in at a new school is one of the trickiest jobs for a CHERUB agent. Ning hadn’t formed a close bond with anyone and felt lonely as she joined the flow of kids streaming out of the school gates.

‘Ning!’

Ning recognised Fay’s voice coming from across the street.

‘Nice day at the office?’ Fay teased.

‘Why make me start a new school three weeks before summer holidays?’ Ning moaned.

‘Bunk it,’ Fay said. ‘I do.’

‘I just might,’ Ning said. ‘Although I’d get grounded if they found out at Nebraska House.’

‘So, ask me what I’ve been up to.’

‘What?’ Ning asked.

‘I tracked down that Shawn guy who works for Eli. The one you told me about.’

‘What for?’

‘I needed to know if Eli was up for buying some cheap product.’

‘And?’

‘He’s keen.’

‘And where’s this cheap product coming from?’ Ning asked.

‘I’ve been watching Hagar’s backup safe-house. Warren was right, it’s ripe for taking down.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘There’s one guy living there,’ Fay explained. ‘Every so often his girlfriend comes over. Once or twice a week, he comes in or out with a big bag. And since there’s never anyone else there, he must have access to the safe, or wherever it is the drugs are being stored.’

‘So what’s the plan?’ Ning asked.

‘Nothing sophisticated,’ Fay said. ‘Masks and balaclavas, wait until about eleven p.m., then we knock on the front door and point a gun in the dude’s face.’

‘What about security?’

‘We know there’s CCTV, but I peeked through the window when the house was empty and there’s no sign of any gates.’

‘And when are we doing this?’

Fay cracked a smile. ‘No reason to wait. If you’re up to it we’ll go in as soon as it gets dark.’

*

Ryan had an egg on his forehead, stitched lower lip and a purple splotch under his right eye. He’d not gone back to school since the mugging, so he sat at the dining-table in cargo shorts and a Jack Wills polo.

‘You sure you’re OK with this?’ James asked, as he stood at the kitchen worktop setting up a radio which would give him a link to a minuscule transmitter that had been tweezered into Ryan’s ear.

Ryan sounded a touch irritated. ‘I’ll be right.’

‘I’m just playing it by the book,’ James said. ‘You took a beating. All CHERUB agents have the right to drop out of missions at any time.’

‘Blah, blah,’ Ryan said, as he cracked a smile.

‘OK,’ James said, as he flipped a switch on the little radio transceiver on the countertop. ‘Testing audio, one, two, three.’

Ryan heard James’ voice repeated inside his ear, then double-tapped his earlobe to activate the com unit and heard his own phrase repeated through the receiver unit.

‘I’ll be on the bench outside. If it gets hairy say bulldog and I’ll pile in and rescue you,’ James said.

Ryan’s chair grated as he stood up. Bright sunlight made him squint as he cut across the dirt patch between his apartment and The Hangout. As Ryan sidestepped dog turds and broken glass, James followed him out, sat on a wooden bench overlooking the bunker-like youth club and opened a copy of Motorcycle News.

There were a dozen kids milling about inside The Hangout. Nobody noticed Ryan because there was some kind of ruckus going on around the pool table and a Mediterranean-looking kid was getting headlocked by an overweight thug almost twice his size.

‘Let him go,’ Youssef shouted, joining a chorus singing a similar theme. ‘You lost the game, fair and square.’

The victim’s face kept getting redder as Youssef approached Ryan.

Youssef smiled, but sounded alarmed. ‘You’ve got some balls showing your face here,’ he said, as he glanced furtively around.

‘You got my text about what happened?’ Ryan asked.

Youssef looked shifty. ‘No offence, but it’s not good to associate with you right now. I’m