Urban Outlaws (13 page)

‘That’s a win-win in my book,’ Charlie said, practically skipping after him.

Jack heard footfall behind them. He stopped at the door and turned back. Wren and Slink were following. ‘You two have to wait here.’ They started to protest but Jack held up a hand, silencing them. ‘We’ll need you to bail us out again if we get into trouble.’ That was a lie. Jack had already decided that if they got caught a second time, he wouldn’t ask the others to risk themselves to save them. This time, he’d face the consequences head on.

‘But you need me to get inside the building,’ Slink said.

That was a fair point, but Jack was adamant about his decision. ‘Not this time,’ he said in a firm tone. They weren’t dealing with clueless criminals. This was the UK government, who knew exactly what they were doing.

Normally, Jack wouldn’t rely so much on gut instinct. Acting on impulse scared him. Cool, calm planning was always the better option, but they simply didn’t have time. He called to Obi. ‘Are you still patched into the building’s security?’

Obi typed a few commands and let out a relieved sigh. ‘Yep.’

‘Cameras as well?’ Charlie asked.

Obi nodded.

Jack hesitated. Something didn’t feel right again. He shook it off. Now wasn’t the moment to get cold feet, they had to move. He’d already wasted too much time. He’d have to plan en route. Though, with what they were about to do, Jack doubted he’d be able to think of anything but his probable imminent death.

He turned back to the door, hit the keypad and it hissed open with a grinding sound, as though sand had got into its mechanism. Obviously it had sustained damage from earlier, but at least it still worked.

Jack gestured Charlie through and balled his fists in anticipation of what was about to happen. Charlie, however, bounded through the door, beaming from ear to ear.

•   •   •

By the time Jack and Charlie reached the surface, it was eleven o’clock at night and eerily quiet. Too quiet. Like the world was holding its breath.

Towards the end of the alleyway sat a metal skip with its lid padlocked shut.

Charlie looked around to make sure they were alone, then reached around her neck and pulled out a key on a chain. She undid the padlock and released the clasp.

With Jack’s help, she hinged the entire side of the skip upward. The top and sides worked on gas cylinders, the same things that people had to open the boot of their cars. Charlie had modified the skip the year before.

What from the outside looked like a beaten-up and rusty skip was in fact lined with metal panels, welded together, painted smooth, creating a cocoon of protection.

Batman would’ve been proud of her.

And what was the object of this protection? A fluorescent light flickered on, and under it gleamed an MV Augusta sports motorbike, with customised silver and chrome body panels wrapped over a 1000cc engine.

Though Charlie was still a year too young to legally ride a 50cc moped under British law, she would often take the bike out on short rides.

Jack hated it when she did. He didn’t just worry about the inherent danger of riding motorbikes – if she crashed, she’d die – but it was also because of the chance that she might get caught riding the stupid thing.

The cops would no doubt lock her up until they found a suitable children’s home. Oh, sure, it wasn’t the end of the world, just hassle to break her out again.

Extra hassle none of them needed.

Charlie ran her fingers over the smooth racing lines and sighed, then she wheeled the bike out from the skip, being careful not to scrape the sides.

Jack reached in and removed two black helmets from hooks. He handed one to Charlie and she slipped it on.

Jack hesitated.

‘I’ll be careful,’ Charlie assured him.

Without responding, Jack put on his helmet, adjusted the built-in Bluetooth headset and climbed on behind her.

Charlie turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. ‘Hold on,’ her voice said over the intercom.

Suddenly, the bike lunged forward and Jack gripped her around the waist.

The front wheel lifted a foot or so off the ground and he heard Charlie’s squeal of delight.

Jack redoubled his grip. ‘I thought you said you’d be
careful
?’ At least they’d get there in a fraction of the time, right? That was if Charlie didn’t kill them first.

Charlie laughed.

The bike’s wheel touched the concrete again. They slid out into the road and raced through a set of red traffic lights.

Jack closed his eyes and prayed they made it there in one piece.

•   •   •

Five minutes later, they stopped at the end of the alleyway. The trucks had gone and the roller door was down.

Jack looked around. The streets were also quiet. Not a single living soul was around. A shudder ran down his spine.

‘What you thinking?’ Charlie said.

‘Something isn’t right.’

‘Want me to get us out of here?’

‘Not yet.’ Jack looked up at the surrounding buildings. There was no sign they were being watched.

For almost a full minute they sat and waited for movement. Jack was about to climb off the bike to go and take a look at the roller door, when they heard the rumble of an engine.

Charlie looked in her side mirror. ‘Trouble.’

Jack turned back to see a large van heading towards them. ‘Don’t run,’ he said. ‘It’ll make them suspicious.’ Not that two riders dressed in black, wearing helmets with darkened visors, were exactly incognito.

Charlie walked the bike forward a metre or so, clearing the entrance to the alleyway and making it less obvious what they were looking at. She pulled a phone from her pocket and pretended to send a text.

‘Good idea,’ Jack whispered.

Perhaps the van driver would think they were lost.

Jack held his breath as the van drew near.

Instead of driving past, however, the van pulled up beside them. Jack noticed Charlie’s grip tighten on the throttle as she prepared to fly off at the first sign of trouble.

After an agonising few seconds there was a crunch of gears and the van backed into the alleyway.

When it was out of sight, Jack climbed off the bike and ran to the corner of the building. He removed his helmet and peered into the alleyway.

The van backed to the roller door and the driver climbed out. He walked to the door, it rolled up and he went inside.

Jack stared for a moment, then understood what was about to happen. ‘They’re moving it.’ He pressed a finger to his ear. ‘Obi?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You see that?’

‘The van? I saw. Are they taking Proteus somewhere?’

‘That’s what it looks like.’ Jack’s mind worked fast. He had to destroy Proteus before they lost it forever. Once they’d moved Proteus, it was game over. ‘Can you still send recordings to their cameras?’ Jack asked.

‘
Jack
,’ Charlie hissed.

He turned back. ‘What?’

She nodded up the road. A black SUV pulled up to the kerb. Jack’s blood ran cold. He recognised the car from earlier.

Sure enough, he could see Agent Connor behind the wheel. In the passenger seat was Agent Cloud, and behind her, the hulking frame of Agent Monday.

For a few moments, no one moved. Then the driver’s side door opened and Connor stepped out. He pulled back his jacket, revealing a gun, giving no doubt of his intentions.

Jack slipped on the helmet, sprinted to the bike, and leapt on the back just as Charlie opened the throttle.

The rear wheel spun for a second, then found grip and they shot forward.

Agent Connor reached for his gun.

Charlie slammed on the brakes, slid the bike around one hundred and eighty degrees, and wheel-spun away from him, smoke filling the air.

Jack looked behind to see Agent Connor jumping into the SUV and chasing after them.

At the end of the road, Charlie took a hard left and the bike leant over so much their knees brushed the tarmac.

When they righted again, Jack risked another glance over his shoulder.

The agents’ car slid sideways across the road and screamed after them.

‘Go, go, go,’ Jack shouted, gripping her tight and following the motions of her body.

Charlie ducked low over the handlebars and the wind tore at their jackets.

The next turn – a hard right this time – saw them slide across the road, straight into the path of an oncoming police car.

They missed it by inches.

Jack caught a glimpse of the cop’s astonished face as they shot past.

The police car’s siren blared and Jack watched it fall in behind the black SUV, blue lights ablaze.

‘Great,’ he said, ‘now there’s two of them.’

‘Make that three,’ Charlie shouted.

Another police car, lights flashing, was heading straight for them.

Charlie turned into a narrow side road and opened the throttle.

The agents’ car and the two police cars slid in behind.

‘They don’t give up easy.’ Charlie snapped the handlebars left, bumped on to the kerb, and squeezed between two fences.

The bike wobbled for a second but she regained control and they shot forward, following the narrow alley.

There was no way the cars could follow them down there.

Charlie took several more turns, weaving in and out of rubbish and skips.

Finally, she eased off the throttle and slowed the bike. It was like a maze back there.

Charlie stopped in a deserted road.

Jack took a moment to catch his breath. ‘That was close.’

‘I know,’ Charlie also sounded breathless. ‘So much fun though, right?’

Jack could think of a few things to call it, but ‘fun’ wasn’t one of them.

He heard a screech of tyres and looked up as the SUV turned into the road ahead.

Charlie didn’t hesitate – she opened the throttle and they sped off again in the opposite direction.

After a minute, Jack looked over his shoulder. The agents’ car was now only a few metres behind them and there were no side roads or alleyways to escape down.

He faced forward again.

Ahead, the two police cars had blocked the end of the road.

A trap.

How had they known where they were?

Jack looked up but couldn’t see a police helicopter.

‘There’s only one way through,’ Charlie said.

He was about to ask what she meant by that when Jack noticed the gap between the police cars. It was only half a metre wide, but still a gap.

A cop was standing there, truncheon out, ready to batter some heads.

Charlie hunched over the handlebars. ‘Time to play chicken.’

Jack groaned.

He could imagine the determination in her eyes.

How fast were they going? Thirty, forty, fifty miles an hour? If they caught anything on their way through, it would end in disaster or, more to the point, hospital. Perhaps even a funeral parlour.

He tucked in behind her, closed his eyes, and wished he’d worn a thicker jacket, boots, gloves, anything to lessen the impact.

He felt Charlie move first left, then right, making small adjustments. ‘Like threading a needle,’ he heard her say.

Yeah
, Jack thought,
only the thread is a lump of hot metal carrying two teenagers and travelling at a million miles an hour
.

This wasn’t going to be pretty.

Charlie let out a deafening roar.

Jack opened his eyes enough to see the policeman jump clear as they shot into the gap.

He felt his foot-peg hit one of the police car’s number plates.

The bike wobbled dangerously, almost throwing Jack and Charlie off.

Charlie screamed out, but somehow, she managed to regain control.

And they got through.

Jack glanced back as the agents’ car slid to a halt, tyres screeching, wheels smoking.

Charlie leant the bike over.

Jack automatically mimicked her movements as they vanished around the corner.

•   •   •

Ten minutes later, when they were sure they were a safe distance away, Charlie pulled over. ‘I have to work out where we are.’

Jack had to admit that after so many left and right turns, he was also lost. They could be anywhere. He looked around for familiar landmarks. Not finding any, he turned back to Charlie. At the same time, her body went rigid. He looked up to see the agents’ SUV pull into the road in front of them.

‘This is nuts,’ Charlie said. ‘How do they keep finding us?’ She spun the bike around and they raced away, the SUV in pursuit once again.

Jack’s stomach tightened.

Charlie was right. How did the agents – ‘That’s it,’ he shouted. ‘That’s how they know where we are all the time.’