‘Take the equipment. I’m out.’
‘Don’t be such a drama queen,’ Fay said. ‘I can’t believe you.’
Ning pointed up the street. ‘I’m hungry,’ she said. ‘That sushi place we walked past looked good. I’m gonna go up there and grab some lunch. Then maybe I’ll go watch a movie in town, or go back to Nebraska and chill in my room. If you want, I’ll go back to the bowling club once it’s dark and we can start our surveillance by watching who comes and goes from the end of the street. But going back in broad daylight and staring through binoculars, before we know how many people are inside, or where the CCTV cameras are, is stupid and I don’t want any part of it.’
‘So you’re an expert all of a sudden?’ Fay said.
‘You don’t need to be an expert to see that you’re pushing too fast.’
With that, Ning started walking up the road. She was desperate to look back and see Fay’s reaction, and massively relieved when Fay finally stood up and shouted, ‘OK!’
Ning turned and placed her hands on her hips. ‘OK, what?’
‘Maybe I don’t know it all,’ Fay admitted. ‘And I highly doubt Kirsten or my mum would want me to get killed.’
Ning turned back as Fay walked towards her.
‘Lunch and a movie?’ Ning asked.
Fay nodded, then the two girls put down their shopping and hugged it out.
‘You said you looked up some stuff about surveillance,’ Fay said.
Ning nodded. ‘I bookmarked a few pages. We can check them out when we get back to my room at Nebraska House.’
‘No harm in taking a look at them,’ Fay said. ‘And I’ve not been to the flicks in ages.’
29. KENT
Clark was a nickname, earned by black hair and plastic glasses reminiscent of Superman’s alter ego, Clark Kent. He was touching thirty, with an awkward face caused by a pummelled nose and fat lower lip.
‘All right?’ Clark said, in an accent that came from somewhere north.
Bright sun made Ryan squint as he slid off a low wall and accepted Clark’s firm handshake.
‘Craig tells me you can handle yourself.’
Ryan acted modest. ‘I guess.’
‘You’ll need a stab vest,’ Clark said. ‘I’ve got a few round my flat.’
Clark lived on the opposite side of the estate to Ryan. His furniture was old but every spare inch of wall was fitted with hooks. These held weapons, from child-sized knuckledusters to Kalashnikov assault rifles.
‘Are these real?’ Ryan asked, as he swept his finger along a dusty shotgun barrel.
‘Hundred per cent,’ Clark said, as he opened a chest of drawers and started rummaging.
There was enough illegal gear on display to get you a life sentence, but Clark didn’t seem to care. After a minute he pulled a stab-proof vest from the drawer and flung it at Ryan.
‘Should fit,’ Clark said, as he rapped his knuckles on something hard beneath his sweatshirt. ‘I never leave home without mine.’
The stab vest was easily visible underneath Ryan’s T-shirt, so he took a balled-up hoodie out of his backpack.
‘Gonna cook in this weather,’ Ryan said, as he zipped up.
‘Better than risking a knife in the guts,’ Clark said, as he walked to his kitchen and came back with two bottles of Evian. ‘Cold one,’ he said. ‘You’ll need it.’
As Ryan dropped the bottle into his backpack, Clark surprised him with a lunge. He tried getting an arm around Ryan’s waist, but Ryan spun and backed off. He tripped over a lamp cable and clattered into a wall lined with baseball bats.
‘Nearly!’ Clark gasped, smiling as he took another swipe.
This time, Clark anticipated Ryan’s speed and hooked his ankle. Ryan’s bum hit the carpet and he shuffled back towards a sofa as Clark closed in. The nature of Clark’s attack and the fact he was smiling made Ryan sure he was just mucking around, trying to test his mettle.
When Clark got within arm’s length and leaned forward to grab, Ryan darted head first between Clark’s legs, locked arms around the big man’s calves and thrust upwards, lifting Clark’s feet off the ground.
Clark crashed forward. No harm was done because he landed on the couch, then rolled on to his back, howling with laughter.
‘Slippery bugger,’ Clark said, as he waved his palms to make it clear that hostilities had ended. ‘Not bad at all.’
Ryan couldn’t decide what to think. Clark seemed friendly, but it also felt weird wrestling a guy he’d met less than half an hour earlier.
‘Take this,’ Clark said, as he unhooked one of the batons on the wall. The