New Guard (CHERUB) - Robert Muchamore Page 0,2

pounds from their mother and ride around on fancy motorbikes, I have to earn my keep.’

‘Hear hear,’ Bruce said, scowling at James because there had been nothing to inherit from his parents either.

‘Kerry works in the City of London,’ James explained. ‘Evil French bank, securitised leasing.’

‘They’re not evil,’ Kerry protested.

‘What’s securitised leasing?’ Bruce asked.

Kerry shrugged. ‘You don’t wanna know.’

‘So is it fun?’ Bruce asked.

Kerry snorted. ‘Nope.’ Then looked disappointed. ‘Salary’s great, but you work stupidly long hours, preparing trading reports and … I don’t even want to talk about it.’

‘So quit,’ Bruce said. ‘Dump the flabby boyfriend and come live with me, teaching martial arts in the sunshine.’

James gave Bruce the finger across the table, before dipping a piece of bread in olive oil.

‘A few years,’ Kerry said. ‘A couple of good bonuses and I can afford to quit and do something more satisfying.’

‘Banker bonuses,’ Bruce laughed.

‘I told you she sold her soul,’ James added.

Kerry folded her arms, but was only pretending to be upset. ‘I miss being a cherub. And when I’m at work, listening to all these Oxbridge-educated toffs going on about their gap year antics, I want to knee them in the gonads and tell them that I helped bring down a major drugs ring when I was twelve years old.’

‘So who else is coming to the party tomorrow?’ Bruce asked.

‘Loads of people,’ James said. ‘Kyle, Gabrielle, Callum, Connor, Michael. And people I’ve not seen for yonks, like Arif and Dana.’

‘Dana,’ Bruce snorted. ‘What about your sister?’

‘Lauren’s coming with Rat.’

‘Nice,’ Bruce said. ‘Probably in Rat’s private helicopter.’

James and Kerry both laughed. ‘I don’t think he’s in the private helicopter league,’ Kerry said. ‘But I heard Rat inherited well over twenty million from his crazy cult leader father.’

‘AAARGH!’ Bruce said, enthusiastically pounding the table as a waitress approached with three main courses. ‘It’s gonna be so cool seeing all the old faces again.’

Most older CHERUB agents took a trip off campus when they got a free Saturday afternoon, but Leon and Daniel’s train got held up, meaning it was past seven when they detrained at the station nearest to CHERUB campus.

‘We’re so screwed,’ Daniel said, as he stepped out of the unmanned ticket hall and glanced around. Sometimes there was a bus from campus waiting to pick up kids. ‘Shall we use the taxi account?’

Leon shook his head. ‘If we charge a taxi, campus will know we’re coming. If we rock up at the gate unannounced, we might just slip through unnoticed.’

‘Forty minutes at a brisk jog,’ Daniel said thoughtfully. ‘There’s a ton of guests arriving for the blow-up party, so security might have their eye off the ball.’

Like all CHERUB agents, the twins had to stay in top shape, so the 8km run was a breeze. They were on the last stretch towards campus when Daniel had a sudden thought.

‘Don’t forget my half of the money.’

‘What money?’

‘The three hundred that Nigel gave you,’ Daniel said.

Leon scoffed. ‘No way! I took all the risks. I had to put on those stupid shorts and have the pervert leering at me.’

‘Risks,’ Daniel said. ‘What risks? He’s got no skills. If Nigel tried something you could have broken his arm in ten seconds flat.’

‘I suffered mental trauma,’ Leon said.

‘Half of that three hundred is mine, Leon.’

‘I’ll give you fifty quid, just to shut you up.’

‘Stop being a dick!’ Daniel said, outraged. ‘Fifty-fifty.’

‘Possession is nine-tenths of the law.’

Daniel gave Leon a shove. It was enough to knock him off stride, but he managed to stay upright.

‘I want my half,’ Daniel demanded.

‘I’ll race you for it,’ Leon said. ‘First one to the campus gate. Go!’

The twins weren’t identical, but nor was there much between them in size or speed. Daniel knew that if he took the bait, he wouldn’t catch his twin, who was already ten metres ahead. All this became academic when Leon took a slight bend in the road and got flashed full beam from an army-green Land-Rover, parked alongside the road.

‘Evening boys,’ a burly campus security guard announced grandly, as the pair stopped running and sensed doom. ‘I’m Briggs and you two are way past your curfew time.’

Since campus appeared on maps as a military facility, the guards on its perimeter drove army-style vehicles and wore military police uniforms.

‘We went swimming in town,’ Daniel said hopefully. ‘There were some girls from that boarding school, and we lost track of time.’

‘Really,’ Briggs said, unconvinced. ‘You could have texted to say you were late. But for some reason your phones were off,