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~

Dan walked to school with Phil the next day, but he was jumpy and anxious, his eyes darting round every corner for fear of bumping into a member of Diego’s crew, or worse, one of the men who’d been in the car the night before. His paranoia didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, concerned. “You look like a frightened rabbit. I’m scared to speak too loudly in case you wee yourself.”

Dan wasn’t quite sure why, but Phil’s use of the word ‘wee’ warmed his heart. It was just so out of place for a teenage boy. Then again, Phil wasn’t exactly a normal teenager by any account.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dan said bashfully. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night so I’m in a weird semi-conscious state, I keep half falling asleep then jerking awake.”

“I can tell,” Phil said sympathetically. “No offence, but you look a wreck.”

“Cheers.” Dan smiled weakly.

“Were you out partying? Or just couldn’t sleep?”

“Nightmares.” Dan said, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. He’d returned from the celebrations at four in the morning, and what little sleep he had managed to seize had been plagued with unexplained visions of his childhood and vague, frustrating memories that refused to quite come into focus.

“That’s rough,” Phil said, placing a hand slightly awkwardly on Dan’s shoulder. “I always get up and do something when that happens. If you just try to go to sleep again, it’ll still be on your mind. If you can take your head completely away from it for a while then it’s like resetting, and you can usually sleep. Read a book. Play a game of chess. Something that requires a lot of concentration.”

“Thanks,” Dan smiled.  “I’ll try that next time.”

There was one image in particular that Dan was struggling to expel from his mind. A memory that had been brought to him in vivid Technicolor during the restless night.

He was fourteen, and home alone. Someone was knocking at the door. Four men in suits, two with dark glasses, all carrying briefcases. One had been his Uncle, Simon. He was very tall, well past six foot, with a short crop of black hair. Most likely where Dan got his height from.

Uncle Simon had crouched down awkwardly in the porch and taken his glasses off to stare sadly into Dan’s eyes.

“Your dad’s gone missing, Dan,” he’d said softly. “He was away in Geneva with work, as I’m sure he told you, but something went wrong. The car they were in was found crashed on the side of the road, but they couldn’t find your father or any of his colleagues.”

Dan’s eyes had bulged and it had taken him a few moments to find words. “Is he dead?” He whispered.

“No, there were no bodies. And no sign of what they crashed into. The car was all crumpled, but it was an empty field.”

“Have they been abducted then?”

“Maybe,” Simon said hopelessly. “But we can’t think why. Or who would have done it. You need to come stay with me and Aunt Kate, I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave school for now. You’re too young to live on your own and we’re your legal guardians.”

“But, your work,” Dan said, confused. “You travel all the time. You’re barely ever in England. You can’t look after me.”

“I know,” Simon sighed. “We’ll figure something out, if it comes to that. But your Dad’s going to be home in no time, I promise.”

Dan’s father had never returned, and was declared missing presumed dead by the police department investigating the disappearance just two months later.

Uncle Simon worked for the government, something to do with foreign trade, and had persuaded Dan in three short hours to give up everything and join the underage intelligence unit. Dan was rushed through the enrolment, and had seen his uncle all of twice since he’d dropped Dan off at the unit three years ago. He shuddered, forcing himself to concentrate. Had Phil been saying something?

“I texted Joe actually,” Phil seemed oblivious to Dan’s temporary lapse in concentration. “Asked him if he wanted to meet you, but he hasn’t replied yet. It’s unlike him, really.”

“What’s he like?” Dan asked, scratching his chin casually.

“Joe? Oh, he’s nice. I think you’ll like him. He’s pretty quiet, reads a lot of French poetry.”

“Oh dear.” Dan teased, and Phil laughed.

“He’s alright, I promise.”

“What does he look like?” Dan asked. That was a reasonable question, right?

“Skinny,” Phil frowned. “Buzz cut. Eyes like ice. Smile like summer.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Alright, calm down Baudelaire.”

“And you pretended to turn your nose up at French poetry.” Phil smiled.

“Well, come on. You can’t describe someone like that unless you’re in love with them.” Dan snorted.

“Yes you can,” Phil said obstinately. “And you should. To say any less is an injustice to them. People are more than the colour of their hair.”

“They’re more than a cliché, too. Have some originality.” Dan prodded Phil playfully in the arm. Bullet’s eyes were a shade of blue pale enough to be icy, certainly. And his smile? Well, Dan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him smile warmly enough for summer, but perhaps.

Phil’s mouth crinkled up at the corners. “How would you describe me then?”

“Stop flirting with me.”

“Stop avoiding the question.”

Dan sighed dramatically before wheeling round in front of Phil to look him critically up and down.

“Ebony hair,” Dan began.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“I’m kidding I’m kidding,” Dan sniggered.

“Your eyes are cool,” Dan said thoughtfully. “You could go swimming in them. I reckon they go pretty deep. All kinds of strange things at the bottom. Secrets. Sea monsters.”

“A couple of giant squid…”

“Well, that goes without saying.” Dan stared a little longer at Phil’s face. There were lots that he could say. The lines under Phil’s eyes that told of sleepless nights but frequent laughter. The purple shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. The light roots showing through amidst the dark of the crown of his head. His nose, long and straight, and the faint lines beginning to show from the many times Phil had scrunched it up to make a face. The awkward slope of his shoulders as he stood, his weight slightly over to the left foot. The way his hands twisted round when he slid his thumbs into the pockets of his trousers. Scuff marks on his shoes and a slightly worn patch on the right knee of his uniform. His fringe, so long it almost hid his eyes from view, and carefully swept to the side.

“You’re like the mornings,” he said after a moment. “Pale and light and with a warmth that pushes back the coldness of night.”

Phil’s smile seemed to grow exponentially till it spread from ear to ear and suddenly his hand was in Dan’s, and Dan wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. They walked together down the quiet street, bathed in morning sunlight.

~

Dan’s shoulder slammed into the brick wall and he let out a hiss of air.

“You didn’t even try to keep your promise.” Bullet whispered angrily, his breath hot against Dan’s face as he pinned him to the wall.

Light was fading fast and the alley Bullet had chosen for their hasty meeting was not lit by any streetlamps. The shadow made it hard to read Bullet’s expression.

“How do you know?” Dan asked breathlessly.

“That’s not important. You’re still friends with Phil Lester.”

It had been less than twenty-four hours. Phil said he’d texted Joe about Dan, how else would Bullet know? Sometimes risk taking was the only way forward in this field of work, and Dan didn’t really feel like he had an alternative.

“So are you.” He said quietly, trying not to gasp for air.

The tension was electric as they eyed each other in silence, their faces just centimetres apart.

“How do you know?” Bullet said in a dangerous whisper, his lips barely moving.

“He talked about you,” Dan said, his mind racing as he planned out his story. “He mentioned what you looked like, but he called you Joe so I wasn’t sure. Then I asked your name. I wasn’t ever completely sure. But I guess now I am.”

Bullet cursed under his breath, letting go of Dan’s jacket and turning away. He kicked out angrily at an upturned bin and spat into the gutter.

“This is fucked man,” he muttered. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

Dan slumped down as soon as Bullet let him go, catching his breath. “You’ve been friends with Phil for ages, haven’t you?” He asked. “That’s why I thought it would be okay. You managed it.”

“His parents don’t know about me. I’m his secret fucking tree boy. I guess he told you about the tree too, huh.”

“Yeah,” Dan admitted. “The carvings are really cool though.”

“He showed you?!” Bullet’s eyes bulged.

“Shit,” Dan winced. “Sorry, it was accidental really. We were in the park. He wanted to introduce me to you, but you weren’t there.”

Bullet paced up and down the damp tarmac, breathing heavily. “He must really like you if he’s taking you places like that. You’re pretty close?” He was twisting the sleeves of his hoodie round and round. It looked like an anxious habit to Dan, and he took careful note.

“I guess. He’s my only real friend here, aside from you.”

“I don’t think you understand how serious this is,” Bullet muttered. “I befriended Phil after more than a year of working for Diego. I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“Well, enlighten me then.”

Bullet dragged his hands down his face and breathed air slowly out through his nose. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I know. Well, some of it. And I don’t know a lot.” He cast his eyes furtively down either end of the alley. “The reason Diego was able to band together such a large group of prolific criminals was because of his link to the ‘family business’. There are plenty of street gangs to choose from, most of which deal with much heavier stuff than we do. Way more long term profit to be had from dealing and transporting drugs than stealing them. But we have another line of work.” He lowered his voice even further. “At least once a month, the suits send something our way. Usually it’s shifting gear.”

“What kind of gear?” Dan asked, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

“We don’t know, and we don’t ask. This is the thing. We get paid crazy money to shift this stuff. Way more than guns or drugs or whatever. Drugs are illegal, but this stuff has to be illegal on a whole other level to justify the bank we make from it. That’s why we don’t want to know what’s going on, you get me?”

Dan nodded.

“Like, we’re getting paid more than the going rate for a disappearance.” Bullet continued. “Murder is life in prison. What the hell is more than life? We don’t know, but as long as we don’t know - and can prove that we don’t know - then we can get off lightly if we ever get caught. Spend too much time with the Lester family however and you might find out.”

“But that’s what I don’t get,” Dan said, confused. “Lester was one of the first names you ever mentioned to me. It’s all over the place. On the gym and everything. That’s not very secretive.”

“That’s why it’s called the family business,” Bullet explained. “There are secrets, but we do know who everyone is. I’ve spoken to Mr Lester a couple of times. He oversees stuff sometimes. And the suits come to the gym. But it’s only ever work, that’s the thing. If you only ever talk about work stuff then you’re okay. It’s outside of work that you have to stay away from anyone not in your little niche. When they’re not specifically trying to talk to you about something work related, that’s when you might accidentally find out something you didn’t want to know. As soon as you know what it is, you can’t touch it. We all rely on each other. Like a family. Only we’re not exactly best pals. Like a family.”

“My family’s pretty close.” Dan murmured.

“Mine’s not.” Bullet said shortly.

Dan looked at him questioningly, but didn’t push it. “So why are you friends with Phil?”

“I don’t like not knowing.” Bullet sighed. “I’m trying to find out, but preferably without getting myself killed. I need to move up the ranks so I can make enough money to move out of my shitty house and away from my shitty family. I want to be a suit.”

Dan’s brow furrowed sympathetically. “That’s pretty dangerous though, isn’t it? I mean, you’re really young. They might not want you doing something so important.”

“I have to try. I’m flunking school, I can’t concentrate and I miss so much of it I’m way behind. I just can’t keep up with it all. I hate the teachers and I hate the students. But I can’t be a street rat for the rest of my life, it’s way too risky. I’ll end up doing jail time. I don’t want to go to prison, Dan. So I have a game plan. Get out of the dangerous waters as quickly as possible. Once you’re not actually doing any of the dirty work it’s much harder for them to pin anything on you. And you can make one hell of an income.”

Dan nodded. “Seems smart, I guess.”

“That’s why you need to stay away from him,” Bullet insisted. “You have an alternative. You’re smart. You can avoid the criminal world all together, once you’re an adult. Or go into it with a degree and lots of business connections. You don’t have to risk it like this.”

Dan bit his lip. “I really like Phil, though. He’s like no one I’ve ever met before. I can’t just abandon him.”

Bullet shook his head incredulously. “You’re bloody mental you are. Definitely not worth it.”

“I kind of want to know, too,” Dan admitted. “I’m a bit of a sucker for danger. And mysteries.”

“Nutcase with a death wish.”

“Adrenalin junkie.” Dan corrected with a smile.

“As your friend, I’m officially doing my upmost to discourage you from this bad life decision. As an ultimately selfish individual however, having you around might not be such a bad thing.” Bullet frowned, considering.

“How so?” Dan prompted.

“I can’t go to Phil’s house ever because I’ve met his Dad and he knows who I am,” Bullet explained. “but he’s never met you. And if the secrets behind all this madness are anywhere, they’re going to be with the person in charge of it all.”

“So you want me to do your dirty work for you?” Dan raised an eyebrow. He wanted to laugh out loud at the situation, but held it in.

Bullet smiled guiltily. “Well, if you’re determined to risk your neck for this secret then you might as well tell me too. No point in us both getting murdered.”

“Thanks.” Dan snorted.

“Nah, seriously though. I can’t have Phil round my house because I hate my house. But you could have us both over at your place. It’s kinda tough to progress the friendship, what with all the walls he’s built up, but something like a sleepover with games and maybe a few beers…?” Bullet suggested tentatively.

“Are you suggesting getting Phil drunk and taking advantage of him?” Dan folded his arms across his chest in mock disapproval.

“No, obviously not,” Bullet said defensively. “I don’t just want him for his Dad. I do actually care about him. He’s my best friend.”

“Does Phil know about his Dad, and the business?” Dan asked.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Bullet said thoughtfully. “His Dad wants him to go to university and stuff. He protects Phil from all that, doesn’t want him getting involved.”

“So, if you get where you want to be, you’ll lose Phil.” Dan said quietly.

Bullet sighed. “Don’t think I haven’t thought of that. It fucking kills me. He’ll probably think I used him as well. That I never cared about him. I guess I’m just going to cross that barrier when I get to it, I’m still hoping there’ll be some magical way around it.”

Dan placed a hand on Bullet’s shoulder sympathetically. “You never know. Still early days. We’ll need to keep this from the rest of the crew though, they’ll slaughter us in our sleep.”

Bullet nodded emphatically. “Oh god yeah, especially now they’ve had a go at you about it. We’ll have to be so careful.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed. “So. Where do we go from here?”

“That’s easy,” Bullet said. “He asked me only last night if I wanted to meet you, so I’ll say yes. We’ll have to pretend not to know each other.”

Dan shook his head. “No, that’s risky. Too easy to accidentally let slip. You need to stick as close to the truth as possible – we can say we met at the gym.”

“Alright, since when were you the expert?” Bullet laughed.

Dan smiled shrewdly. “It’s common sense. The less pretence, the less chance of fucking it up. I’m not an expert, which is exactly why I’m saying I don’t think we’d be able to do it.”

“Okay,” Bullet rolled his eyes. “We met at the gym and know each other, but not very well. That’s mostly true. Oh, and call me Joe. Obviously he doesn’t know the name Bullet.”

Well, Dan thought, at least that proved that Joe wasn’t working for some sort of rival organisation on the same mission as Dan. He never would have suggested unnecessary pretence, it was one of the basics of intelligence training.

“So we have a plan.” Dan said.

“We have a plan,” Joe agreed. “Albeit a reckless fucking stupid one.”

Dan had found out both a lot today and nothing at all. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that this mystery was no closer to being solved – if anything, it was just evolving in front of him. The answer to every question just seemed to be another question. Whispered discussions full of vague words and enigmas in a nondescript alleyway of Kensington were not enough for a conviction. Sooner or later, Dan was going to need to gather some hard evidence.