New Guard (CHERUB) - Robert Muchamore Page 0,28

metres away, Trey was emerging from the VW. Oli tried doubling back inside the supermarket the instant he saw.

‘You get over here,’ Trey roared, as Daniel grabbed Oli by the back of his coat, then got an arm around his chest and started marching him.

‘Let go you prick,’ Oli shouted, backpack sliding down his arm. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing.’

‘I know you ripped us off,’ Daniel growled. ‘And you lied about doing the print shop for Trey.’

After a few stumbled paces, Oli got shoved to Trey, who dragged him into the car.

‘Door,’ Trey ordered, as Daniel stumbled in.

The driver moved off, with the VW protesting against the half-closed sliding door with bing-bong sounds. Once he’d slammed it shut, Daniel got back on the rear bench next to Leon. Oli tried to get between them but Trey shoved him face down in the half-metre gap between front and rear seats, then pinned him under a rigger boot.

‘You think I wouldn’t realise it was you that stole the key?’ Trey shouted. ‘I’ve been good to you, Oliver. Gave you jobs when others said you were too young to be trusted. And this is how you repay me?’

Trey had one boot on Oli’s back, and used the other one to deliver a kick to the side of his head. Not full strength, but enough to make him gasp.

‘You lack respect,’ Trey roared. ‘Messed up big time.’

Back in the Focus, James felt his heart speed up as he started the engine. He didn’t want to stay back too far, but Leon and Daniel’s phones were trackable, so losing sight of the VW wouldn’t be a calamity.

A Fiat coming in blocked James for a bit, then a man with a buggy crossing the street. Leon’s tracker signal seemed to have stopped moving. James guessed it was a traffic light, but after three hundred metres and a left on to a service road he saw the VW parked on a cobbled driveway, leading up to a tatty little mews building. Trey’s thug/driver was just shutting the front door.

As James parked across the street and took a laser microphone out of his surveillance kit, so that he’d be able to listen in, Trey shoved Oli against a chewed-up woodwork bench inside.

‘See this vice?’ Trey shouted, holding Oli’s head right up to it. ‘One lie, one smart word and I’m gonna use that to crush every bone in your hand. Understand?’

The twins watched, breathing a touch of sawdust and looking around at a big table saw, a lathe and a bunch of other woodworking equipment. Rusted paint cans and partially completed window frames gave the impression that nobody had worked here in some time.

‘Where are the laptops?’ Trey demanded.

Oli looked scared, but shrugged like he wasn’t. ‘Sold ’em.’

‘To whom?’

‘That’s for me to know,’ Oli said.

Trey grabbed Oli by the back of his neck, lifted him one-handed and slammed him hard on the workbench. Leon and Daniel couldn’t communicate, but both sized the situation up: Trey’s driver was big, but they both thought he could be taken down if they surprised him. Trey was trickier because of the gun, but he’d have a hard job getting the gun out quickly while he was manhandling Oli.

‘You wanna mess with me, brat?’ Trey roared. ‘I’ll kill you.’

‘If you do, you’ll never find your laptops. And what’ll Uncle say when he finds out that you let a schoolboy steal a key to his print shop and trash the place?’

Trey tightened Oli’s wrist behind his back with one hand, while another grabbed a gas-powered framing stapler from a shelf under the bench.

‘Last chance, Oliver.’

‘What’s on the laptops, Trey?’ Oli teased. ‘What’s Uncle gonna say when he finds out you’ve lost ’em?’

The gas-powered stapler had a cartridge filled with heavy-duty staples, strong enough to drive through the thin board that you might find as the base of a drawer, or backing a kitchen cabinet. When Trey pulled the trigger, there was a little explosion and a 10mm staple shot into the back of Oli’s hand.

‘Tell me now or I’ll crucify you,’ Trey roared.

Oli screamed in pain as Trey lined up the stapler to take another shot.

‘Nooo,’ Oli begged, tears streaming down his face. ‘There’s a pawnbroker’s.’

‘Where?’

‘Booth Street, near the station.’

Trey turned towards his driver. ‘Look it up. See if we can get there before it closes.’

‘How dare you rip me off?’ Trey roared, his attention back on Oli.

Trey fired a second staple into the back of Oli’s hand. As the twelve-year-old screamed, Leon