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  Ethan watched as Johnny pulled out his phone, scrolled through the numbers and hit CALL.

  A ‘Yes?’ hissed into the air, and Johnny handed the phone to Ethan.

  ‘Your gig, mate; you’d best tell him.’

  Ethan took the phone and explained everything to Sam. Two minutes later he killed the phone and handed it back to Johnny with a nod. ‘He’s on his way.’

  ‘No surprise there,’ said Johnny. ‘So what do you want to do now?’

  ‘Well, we either hang about and wait for Sam,’ said Ethan, ‘or we get on and do something. Let’s see if we can find out what Jake’s actually up to.’

  Just then they both saw a shadow stroll out of the hangar and into the moonlight to smoke a cigarette. They watched, unmoving, until the figure flicked the cigarette butt away and turned back. The dying cigarette cast a faint red arc in the darkness.

  Johnny nodded towards the hangar. ‘Let’s go.’

  The hangar doors were large, sitting like sliding cat flaps in two even bigger doors for aircraft moving in and out of the hangar. Ethan and Johnny crept past the open doors and hid behind a large bin and a pile of discarded pallets. From there, they could see what was going on inside the hangar without being spotted themselves. They saw torches cutting the dark like light sabres and heard laughter echoing in the air.

  Jake was with two other men. They were both large guys, taller than Ethan, and they were dressed in black, with long leather jackets that finished just above the knee. They looked to Ethan liked they’d popped along to Criminals ’R’ Us to get dressed up before heading out. From this distance, the only difference between the two was that one had blond hair, the other black. They were busy pulling the parachutes out of their packs and shredding them with Stanley knives.

  ‘They’re messing with the rigs,’ said Ethan.

  ‘Yeah,’ Johnny muttered. ‘They’re shredding everything. Harnesses, canopies – all ruined. The bastards.’

  They heard Jake shout at the other two to hurry up.

  Ethan could hardly bear to sit still and watch as more rigs were destroyed. At last he spoke. ‘We need to keep them here until Sam arrives,’ he said. ‘I reckon he’ll want to have a word or two with Jake.’

  Johnny nodded. ‘And your plan for that?’

  ‘We lock them in,’ said Ethan.

  ‘Nice,’ agreed Johnny, nodding appreciatively.

  ‘And simple,’ added Ethan.

  15

  ‘It’s easy…’ Ethan had almost convinced himself. ‘You take this side of the hangar; I’ll sneak round the back and come up the other side. That’ll give me a chance to check the back doors are locked so they can’t escape.’

  ‘Used to trapping criminals in the act, are you?’ said Johnny.

  ‘When you see me at the other hangar door,’ continued Ethan, ‘wait for my signal.’

  ‘Ooh, a signal!’ said Johnny. ‘How James Bond!’

  Ethan smiled. ‘I’ll raise my hand. You wave back to indicate you’ve seen me. Then we push the doors together – fast! – and shut them in. OK?’

  ‘Just like that?’ said Johnny.

  ‘Just like that,’ repeated Ethan. ‘Ready?’

  Johnny nodded.

  With a deep breath, Ethan scooted along the side of the hangar. There were two doors at the back and one more on the other side. All were still securely padlocked. Soon he was round at the front of the hangar again. He heard Jake laugh. It was a sound that made him want to punch him hard.

  He looked across the doorway. Johnny was just visible on the other side. Ethan raised his hand and Johnny waved back.

  Shoulder hunched against the door, Ethan pushed it hard. His heart pounded as he drove it along, willing it shut with everything he had. It screeched loudly in the night as he heaved it across.

  Inside, a shout went up: ‘The doors are shutting!’

  Ethan heard footfalls approaching, but that simply made him go at it even harder. He wasn’t going to let Jake win. With a loud yell, he gave the door a final push and saw Johnny do the same.

  Then, just inches from closing, something stopped the doors in their tracks.

  ‘Shit!’ panted Johnny. ‘They’re on the other side!’

  ‘Then shut up and keep pushing!’ cried Ethan. ‘Push!’

  Ethan could feel someone shoving the door the other way. His feet were slipping, his muscles were hurting now, and he’d already split his knuckles on the door. But he heaved again. He was so close…

  Suddenly he felt his door give way, heard Johnny yell, and saw him flung backwards hard onto the ground.

  Jake’s companions rushed through the gap and hurled themselves at Johnny.

  Ethan abandoned the door and ran to help his friend, but Johnny was already on his feet and ready for them.

  The one with the blond hair reached him first, but Johnny dodged to the left, crashing his elbow into the side of the man’s head as he moved. Mr Blond stumbled and fell head-first into a wall. Johnny immediately whipped round as the other, dark-haired man came at him. This time, he stepped right and used his left leg to sweep Mr Black’s legs from under him. The guy landed hard and face-first on the ground. Ethan winced.

  Johnny turned to Ethan. ‘Get out of here! Now!’

  Ethan shook his head and ran towards Johnny, keeping a careful watch on the two men, who were now pulling themselves to their feet. He was ready to pile in, despite the size of Mr Blond and Mr Black. Johnny was a mate, and to Ethan, that mattered more than anything.

  ‘I mean it,’ said Johnny. ‘Sam’ll be here in a minute. I can handle this!’

  ‘Two against one?’ said Ethan, guessing Jake was leaving the rough stuff to these two gorillas. ‘No chance!’

  The men were on their feet now and making for Johnny.

  He was turning, ready for another attack. But they were approaching him more cautiously this time, and Ethan didn’t blame them. Having seen the way Johnny had taken them both down, he made a mental note not to get on the wrong side of him. It was obvious that he knew how to fight, and was used to handling himself when things got out of hand. This wasn’t the light-hearted Johnny that Ethan was used to. He was seeing a whole new, darker side he had never guessed existed.

  ‘I said get out of here!’ Johnny shouted, but before Ethan had a chance to respond, the two men launched themselves at him. This time they were prepared. Johnny’s blows didn’t seem to make a dent. Mr Black reached in, grabbed him and threw him to the ground. Then they both laid into him, feet first.

  As Ethan ran into the fight, he heard the kicks making contact, saw Johnny hunch into a ball on the ground.

  The men were too busy kicking three levels of shit out of Johnny to see Ethan bursting out of the dark. He went for Mr Blond first, hoping the weight and momentum of his body would throw the guy to the floor. It didn’t. In fact, it felt like running into a brick wall. The man half turned towards Ethan, paused mid-kick, spat, then smacked him across the face with the back of his hand, dropping him to the floor with a broken lip, his cheek stinging like hell. Then Mr Blond turned back to Johnny as if Ethan was of no account. But Ethan’s attack had bought his friend some time. Now he was up on his feet again, tackling Mr Black. Ethan knew Johnny had a good chance one on one, so he immediately launched himself at Mr Blond once more, dragging himself up onto his back.

  The guy spun round, trying to shake Ethan loose, but Ethan had locked his arms around his neck. Mr Blond swung left and right, but Ethan hung on, frantically trying to work out what his next move should be. He caught sight of Johnny ducking a punch from Mr Black and swinging back with a kick to his stomach. This wasn’t the movies, this was real, Ethan realized, and if he let this gorilla get the advantage, he was screwed. The man was heavier and stronger and would probably rip his head off quite happily before attacking Johnny again. So he couldn’t let Mr Blond get the upper hand. He wasn’t one for fighting dirty, but under the circumstances, he reckoned ‘dirty’ was his only option. There were no rule
s here, no referee to call foul. All that mattered was survival.

  He figured his best option was to hang on and try to do some damage at the same time. And that meant going for the face. Ethan could feel adrenaline burning through him as he clawed upwards with his hands, found an eye-socket, and pushed a thumb in hard.

  The man staggered backwards with an agonized yell. Ethan pushed harder and then stretched across to reach the other eye.

  Mr Blond twisted and turned, reaching round for Ethan, but Ethan knew what would happen to him if he let go, so he just dug in harder and scrambled higher.

  As Mr Blond continued to try and prise Ethan off his back, Ethan felt the damp warmth of blood on his hands. He held on for as long as he could, but with his hands now wet with blood, he finally slipped and fell to the ground.

  Mr Blond bellowed with anger, but Ethan was up super-fast and onto his back again, this time reaching for his ears and twisting as hard as he could. The man stumbled left and right, screaming, swearing and clutching the sides of his head as blood poured down from his damaged ears. Ethan scrabbled for the face again – but with the weight on his back, Mr Blond finally stumbled, lost his footing and fell.

  Ethan’s world went dark as the man landed on him, slamming the air out of his lungs like he was a burst bag of crisps.

  Then there were lights. Stars bursting everywhere. Blinding him.

  Ethan was trapped under Mr Blond and gasping for air. The weight of the man was ridiculous – like he was made of lead. Ethan tried to wriggle out from under him, but he couldn’t budge, so he grabbed his ears again and hoped that would be enough to get him to move. Mr Blond bellowed and Ethan pulled harder. The man clawed at Ethan’s hands and swore.

  Ethan tried to crane his head round to see Johnny. Unfortunately Mr Black seemed to have his friend pinned in the dirt, arms pulled out to the sides and trapped under his attacker’s knees. As Ethan watched, the man raised his head and brought it down with a crack on the side of Johnny’s forehead. Johnny struggled no more and Ethan knew he was out cold.

  Where the hell is Sam? he wondered. Just where the hell is he? It felt as though he and Johnny had been fighting for hours, though he knew it could only have been minutes. Desperation gripped him and he kicked out, bucking his body like he was being electrocuted. Mr Blond rolled to the right and Ethan could finally breathe again. He dragged himself to his feet and tried to catch his breath as the man started to pull himself to his knees. Blood was running from his ears and eyes and dripping over his shirt. He looked up at Ethan, snarled. Mr Black was turning as well now, and Ethan could see that Johnny was still out for the count.

  Ethan knew this was it. If he let Mr Blond hit him, he was a dead man. And, probably, so was Johnny. So he kicked Mr Blond in the groin with his left foot. Then again. The man doubled over.

  Ethan didn’t think twice: he sent another boot in, and launched the guy backwards, his head slamming into the ground. Ethan stumbled forwards, ready to go in again if need be, but it was clear Mr Blond wouldn’t be getting up for a while. He was out cold.

  Ethan spat blood and looked over at Johnny. He was relieved to see him moving, albeit slowly. Then he looked up at Johnny’s attacker. The man was as big as Mr Blond, if not bigger. And he was smiling. He looked at Ethan and beckoned him forward with a wave of the hand.

  Ethan was knackered. He didn’t know if he’d survive another fight. But what choice did he have? He raised his fists and advanced. Then something hammered into his leg. It came out of nowhere, catching him hard across the side of his left knee. Pain shot through him and he dropped like liquid, screaming. He rolled around on the floor, breaths short, taking the pain, holding his knee. The leg was dead, numb; he couldn’t stand up. Then a voice broke the moment.

  ‘Looking for me, Rookie?’

  Ethan glanced up to see Jake staring down at him. Hanging from his left hand was a thin plank of wood. He was doing his best to be gangster cool, with a cigarette dangling limply from the corner of his mouth. A long black coat added to the effect, though it didn’t suit him.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ spat Ethan, trying to sit up. ‘What’s the point of ruining Sam’s kit? And those gorillas of yours nearly killed Johnny! Are you mad?’

  Jake strolled over, rested a foot on Ethan’s shoulder and pushed.

  Ethan fell back, still dazed from the pain in his knee. Jake leaned forward, and Ethan felt his lungs being compressed; wanted to throw up. He looked at the other two men. Mr Blond was beginning to move; Mr Black was standing over Johnny, who was also stirring now. Every time Johnny tried to get up, the goon simply pushed him back to the ground.

  ‘I thought you might turn up if I called,’ said Jake, drawing hard on his cigarette before blowing the smoke down into Ethan’s face. ‘Thought it would add to the fun if you saw what I’d done. Didn’t expect Johnny to come too. Bit of a bonus, that. And now I get to give you a kicking as well as ruin Sam’s life. Fucking excellent.’

  Ethan struggled against Jake’s foot, fighting for breath. ‘It’s not my fault Sam threw you off the team,’ he panted. ‘It’s not anyone’s fault but yours.’

  Jake raised the plank, menace in his eyes. ‘Want some more of this, do you?’ But before he could bring it down, Ethan saw his chance and went for it. Grabbing Jake’s foot, he twisted hard, turning with it as he went. Jake went down, the plank and the cigarette spinning off into the dark.

  Ethan saw Mr Blond watching – though luckily still too dazed to do much. Mr Black wheeled round to see what was going on – and that was enough to allow Johnny to clamber to his feet. Now the man was torn between helping Jake and stopping Johnny.

  As Jake struggled up onto his knees, Ethan leaped to his feet and smashed in with a kick, hard and fast, aiming for Jake’s stomach. Jake squealed and toppled backwards, coughing in pain. Ethan didn’t give him a chance to recover. As he tried to get up, Ethan kicked him back down. Jake wasn’t really fighting any more, but Ethan was beyond caring. He was locked in the moment now. It was all that mattered: he couldn’t hear or see properly, his body was in pain, there was blood in his mouth – and all he wanted to do was keep raining in the kicks and punches, take all his anger out on Jake till there was nothing left. Nothing at all.

  But somewhere at the back of his mind a warning sounded: he knew he had to back off – stop before he lost control completely. He staggered backwards, aware now of Jake’s groans. The other two men were now trying to deal with Johnny, who was just about managing to stay out of their reach.

  Then Ethan spotted the plank Jake had used against him. Calmly he walked over, picked it up, came back.

  Jake looked up at him. ‘No… don’t-’

  Ethan broke the plank across his knee with a crack that signalled the end. Enough.

  Only apparently Mr Blond wasn’t following the same script, because as Ethan looked down at Jake, he felt huge arms wrap around him from behind. The stink of tobacco breath caught in his nostrils and stubble rasped against the back of his neck as he was lifted bodily off the ground.

  Suddenly the arms released him, but Ethan wasn’t given a chance to escape. Two fists pounded into the sides of his neck, dropping him to the ground, where he landed next to Jake.

  Ethan turned to see the man spit and smile, crack his knuckles, flex his neck. Then he reached down and picked up Ethan as though he weighed no more than a child. Ethan struggled, but this time it was useless. Mr Blond had him tight, arms pinned.

  Jake pushed himself to his feet and wiped blood from his mouth. He held one half of the plank in his hand.

  ‘Screw Sam and screw you!’ he hissed, and he launched the end of the plank at Ethan’s stomach.

  The blow made Ethan retch. He folded up, pain racing through his body, coughed, tasted bile in his throat, felt sick, scared.

  Mr Blond refused to let him fall, just held him tight for more of the same.

  Jake came in with another blow from the plank. It hurt just as bad. Ethan heard Jake laugh. Then he p
uked. It stung his throat, and he could see blood in it.

  ‘Nice.’ Jake laughed as Mr Blond dropped Ethan face down in his own vomit.

  Ethan stayed where he was. He knew he was deep in shit and that there was fuck all he could do about it. Moments later, Johnny was thrown to the ground next to him. Johnny looked at him, attempted a smile, but said nothing. Then Ethan saw Jake and his goons looming above them and knew what was coming next.

  The screeching of tyres split the night and finally ended the fight. Ethan turned his head to see what was going on and saw headlights burst round the corner of the hangar like fireworks. Gravel and dirt scattered as Sam pulled his Defender up sharp, kicked the door open and hurled himself towards the boys like a raging bull.

  ‘Another time, Rookie!’ said Jake, and he and the two goons bolted.

  Sam skidded to the ground. ‘Ethan? Johnny? You OK?’

  Ethan sat up, coughed, shook his head to clear it, then nodded.

  ‘We’ll live,’ said Johnny.

  ‘Well, you look like you’ve been shat out of a bear’s arse,’ said Sam. He turned back to Ethan. ‘What’s Jake done?’

  Ethan pointed at the open doors to the hangar. ‘They’ve killed the kit, Sam,’ he said. ‘Ruined it.’

  Sam stood, ran over to the doors, turned back, face hard. ‘Can you walk?’

  In answer, Ethan and Johnny pulled themselves to their feet.

  ‘What state are they in?’ asked Sam. ‘I saw Jake was bleeding. What about the other two?’

  ‘Not great,’ said Johnny, stretching his back. ‘Same as us.’

  ‘Right,’ commanded Sam. ‘Defender. Now.’

  He turned, and Ethan and Johnny clambered into the back seats. The engine thrummed into life with a heavy growl.

  ‘They headed off down there.’ Johnny pointed, leaning over the front seats. ‘Down the grass airstrip. They must’ve cut across the fields to get here or something.’

  ‘What about the fence that surrounds the place?’ asked Ethan.