Thieves Like Us 01 - Thieves Like Us Read Free Page B

sniggered, but Motti only tightened his grip on Jonah’s throat once more. ‘Careful, geek. Working the lights from up there was a cinch – and I can punch out yours just as easily. You got a big mouth.’
    ‘And a fair-sized brain,’ Jonah gasped, acting about twenty degrees cooler than he felt. ‘Which is why Coldhardt sent you here to spring me, right? So how about you stop wasting time and get on with it.’
    ‘He’s right,’ said Con. ‘We’re pushing our luck already. Come on, Tye is waiting.’ She grabbed Jonah by the hand and pulled him free of Motti’s grip.
    Now, as well as fear, Jonah felt embarrassed as he was dragged towards the white van. He knew Con must be able to feel him trembling. But to his surprise, as Motti and Patch caught up with them she simply gave his hand a little squeeze of reassurance.
    Motti slid open the rear door. ‘Get in, Patch. C’mon, Con, you too. Guards on the gate need to think Tye’s come back out alone.’
    Con shook her head. ‘I’m taking the front. I’ll crouch down out of sight.’
    ‘No way. What if the guards on the gate look in and see you?’
    ‘They won’t. It’ll be cool.’
    ‘Jeez, Con, you knew the plan. As soon as we’re clear of this dump you can get out and –’
    ‘I’m
taking the front
!’ Con opened the passenger door and climbed nimbly inside, slamming it shut behind her.
    ‘What was all that about?’ hissed Jonah.
    ‘Don’t go there,’ muttered Motti. He roughly bundled Jonah inside after Patch, then scrambled in himself.
    The moment he’d shut the door, the van engine roared into life. It was pitch black – the windows were blanked out and a divider had been put up between the front and the rear. Jonah felt sick with nerves.
    ‘Don’t make a sound,’ said Motti. ‘Do anything to get the guards’ attention and I swear I’ll kill you.’
    ‘Go easy, Mot,’ muttered Patch.
    The van pulled away. Thirty seconds later, when it came to a sudden halt, Jonah’s heart almost stopped with it.
    A quiet hum: electric window winding down. Footsteps outside.
    ‘Dougie’s show over already, is it, love?’ A man’s voice, smug and knowing; you could almost hear the leer in it. ‘Didn’t take long.’
    ‘Do you imagine it
ever
takes long with Dougie?’ a girl’s voice replied, to guffaws of laughter. This had to be Tye. She had a nice voice – a touch rougher than Con’s, warmer, with just an edge of Caribbean accent.
    ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ said a second guard suddenly. ‘Who’re you trying to kid?’
    A pause. Tye acted innocent. ‘What d’you mean?’
    Someone banged hard on the side of the van. Jonah held himself dead still, not even daring to breathe.
    ‘Got the poor sod tied up in the back, ain’tcha? Taking him off for a private performance, right?’
    More laughter. Jonah blew out his breath, cradled his head in his hands.
    ‘He wishes,’ said Tye. ‘Well, so long, guys. Oh – here’s my agency’s card. If you want to see what you missed, give them a call. Ask me nice, I might come back …’
    Amid wolf whistles and filthy laughter, the van pulled away. Jonah heard a whirring, grinding noise as the gate lifted up to let it pass. Then Tye stepped on the accelerator, turned hard on to the road.
    ‘We did it,’ breathed Motti. He whooped loudly. ‘We
did
it!’ He and Patch shifted forward and pulled down the partition. Suddenly Jonah was staring out at streetlights and shops and office blocks. At windows with blinds, not bars. At the wide, black night and the stars that shone over the sleeping city.
    ‘I’m out,’ he murmured. ‘Free.’
    Con clambered up from the footwell of the passenger seat, grinning broadly, no trace of her earlier mood remaining. ‘Look what I was hiding under!’ She lifted up a big brown paper bag, spotted with grease. ‘The smell was driving me crazy!’
    ‘Mac attack!’ cheered Patch. ‘Gimme.’
    ‘I almost dug in there and then, and screw the guards!’ Con