2. ...Three For The Ready, Fuck It, Let's Go.

"And this is just the first crate."

Luis and Rafael stared into the shipping container, studying the contents in awe. Rows and rows of explosives greeted them, ranging from stacks of C-4 to a collection of high-explosive anti-tank warheads.

"That is a shit-load of boom-boom," breathed Rafael, coherent speech temporarily evading him.

"We've got to patch this through to Chris. Get your specs out."

As Rafael rummaged through his bag Luis took out a small mobile phone, dialling in a number from memory and hitting the call button. The person on the other end picked up after a single ring.

"Luis, what's the word?"

The man on the other end of the line was Christian Howard, the two boys' mission controller. A former CHERUB agent himself, he had jumped at the chance to become a mission controller when offered the job eight years ago. Since then he had distinguished himself as one of the best and was well liked by all the agents who worked with him on missions. He was never flustered, no matter how bad the situation appeared and his fast thinking and logical approach to things had served him well, initially as an agent and now as a controller. It also helped that his perfectly enunciated English was an ever-calming influence on agents under his control.

"Got a couple of GLASS patches for you to pick up," Luis replied, switching back to English. He pulled a small box out of his backpack, tilting it so that he could read the print on the side of it, "Serial numbers six-eight-two-three, dash, Alpha and..." he paused as Rafael threw his now-empty box over to him, "Five-three-nine-two, dash, Charlie."

"Excellent, I'll pick you up on the microphones."

With that Luis ended the call, stuffing the phone back into his pocket and opening the box he had removed from his backpack. Inside was what at first glance appeared to be a normal pair of glasses. Closer inspection however revealed the equipment to be a military-grade specification of technology that had first appeared years ago when Google debuted their revolutionary glass.

A camera mounted on the bridge of the frames recorded everything the user saw and beamed it up to a relay satellite that would then push the feed out to whoever had the correct security clearance to pick up the transmission. Along with this, the satellite link would also identify whatever the user was looking at and bring up a small read-out on the GLASS unit. In this case it would be extremely helpful in identifying what types of weapons ETA had in the containers.

Luis quickly donned his pair and flicked the torch light on, finding that Rafael had already done the same and was investigating further through the container. A few seconds later he heard a crackle from the earpiece mounted on the frame before Chris' voice came through.

"Signal is looking strong boys, what have you got for me?"

"What haven't we got for you, more likely," chuckled Rafael, "You seeing all this?"

"I am indeed, Rafael," replied Chris, "But you have got to stop flicking your head around, I cannot accurately make out what I am looking at through your feed. I have a good idea from Luis' feed though- Good Lord, are they what I think they are?"

"Yeah," Luis answered, keeping his head still as he looked at what he assumed Chris had exclaimed about, "HEAT missiles. Russian-issue anti-tank, pretty high grade shit. ETA has some serious weaponry here and this is just the first container we opened. Wanted you to have a live feed while we popped some more."

"You best get to work then, I have only got this connection secure for a further five minutes."

"You got it boss man." Rafael nodded as they both made their way back out of the container and branched off in opposite directions.

The two boys made their way down the stacks, opening up as many containers as they could in the five minutes that they had. Inside each one were assortments of weapons, each container housing a certain type, as if they'd already been sorted and split up. It wasn't just a random jumble of guns, they were organised and packed away neatly. Once the connection dropped out the two boys packed the high-tech glasses back into their bags as a call came through onto Luis' phone.

"Well the agents over here at CNI are in a bit of a state," began Chris, "From what we have seen ETA has got enough weaponry to fit out a small army, and our men are not too happy about it, as you can imagine."

"We haven't even opened a quarter of the containers either," Luis cut in, "They've been doing some serious stockpiling."

"It would appear so," replied Chris, "Which means we have got to deal with this situation fast. Your intel states there is a possibility that ETA wants to move a shipment at oh-five-hundred this morning, so that provides us a little less than two hours to secure this."

"I might have an idea. Regarding how we should go about doing that. I don't suppose you've got an explosive expert handy over there at CNI do you?"

"What have you got in mind Luis?"

"That first container we opened had a large amount of C-4 sitting in it. There's enough of it to wipe this ship out five times over."

"We blowing shit up?" Rafael cut in, overhearing Luis talk about the C-4. The elder agent waved a hand at him to quieten down as Chris replied.

"That could work. Hold on, I'm going to put you on speaker so CNI know what is going on."

A few long minutes later and Luis snapped the phone shut, stuffing it back into his pocket. It was decided that they were going to be leaving nothing to chance with the weapons so they would be setting up charges around and inside the containers as well as placing a large one down in the depths of the ship. This final charge would hopefully blow a hole through the hull below the waterline and flood the ship, sinking it and destroying anything the blasts didn't take out.

The two boys quickly set about their work, planting explosive in all the necessary places on the deck before making their way down into the bowels of the ship with the rest of the C4. Following the instruction from the phone call with CNI they found the appropriate place to set the last charge.

Once they had finished, Rafael stood up with a broad grin on his face as he flicked the top on the detonator, "Can't wait until we get to send this place sky high. It's going to be one of a hell of a bang."

"Don't set it off while we're still on board," snapped Luis, making to take the detonator from Rafael, but they both froze as they heard loud shouts from above deck, "Fuck. They're early."

"And by the sounds of it they've found that you've spilt the coffee."

Both boys reached for their guns, pulling them out from where they'd been stuffed into their jeans, making sure ammunition was correctly loaded before they silently nodded to each other.

"If we can get up to the bridge we'll be able to see what we're dealing with," whispered Luis, gesturing for them to start off down a corridor.

They crept slowly through the depths of the ship, making their way to the far end before climbing the levels up the stairs, eventually emerging onto the deserted bridge of the ship. Staring over disused banks of controls and a dust-covered captain's chair, the two boys walked across to the far end, looking out through the glass, surveying the deck below them.

"There's only a couple of them," commented Rafael as he studied the pair of men on the deck below him. They were standing over the dead body of the guard Luis had killed and one was speaking into a walkie-talkie.

"There'll be dozens here any minute though, we need to disappear. Quickly."

"Where to? Back into the city?"

"No." Luis shook his head, "Once word spreads it'll be too dangerous to be in Bilbao. We need to get out of Basque country."

"So do we get to steal a car now?" asked Rafael, excitedly.

"Nope." Luis again shook his head. While Rafael had been busying studying the deck of the ship, the older boy had once again looked further, his mind working furiously to formulate a plan for their escape, "We're going to steal a boat."

Rafael followed where Luis was pointing, a small dock with a cluster of speedboats tied up to it protruded from the edge of the port a short way across the roadway from the complex of security buildings near the entrance.

"You know how to hotwire a boat?"

"Unfortunately not." Luis shook his head as he pulled something from his pocket, "But I do have a key for one. Swiped it from the office along with the jeep keys; they must use the boats to move across the bay quickly."

"Shit, Lu," chuckled Rafael, "You're three steps ahead of everyone else. Where we heading to once we're on the water?"

"The Basque border is a little under ten k's from here and there's a small town called Castro Urdiales a bit further on up the coast that the Spanish military have a naval force based out of. If we can make it into Spanish water and get word through to them we should be safe."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Rafael grinned, liking the plan, "Let's get ourselves a boat."

Luis let a small smile play across his face at the younger agent's enthusiasm before refocusing himself and taking one last look out across the deck, "Let's do it."

With that the two boys took off back towards the stairs, keeping their steps light and the noise minimal. They emerged back out onto the deck level but stayed in the shadows of the corridor, cautiously checking for the two guards.

"Shit, where are they?" whispered Rafael. There was no sign of anyone but the dead body on the deck.

"Sweeping the ship," Luis replied, "Could be in amongst the containers. We've got to move, I don't want them finding the charges while we're still onboard."

Rafael instinctively checked his pocket for the detonator, finding comfort in the solid device nestled in the front right pocket of his jeans. Without a word they began out of the corridor, walking out onto the deck, hugging close to anything they could use for cover. They constantly scanned for any sign of the two other guards, straining their ears for footsteps or pieces of conversation that would give away their position.

There was nothing though and they soon reached the dead guard again. Luis stopped, bending down to the body and grabbed the AK-47 from where it had fallen, slipping the strap across his shoulder and slinging the gun over his back.

"What are you doing?" whispered Rafael; eyes fixed ahead looking for any sign of trouble.

"Levelling the playing field," replied Luis, sifting through the man's pockets, oblivious to the blood he was smearing across his hands. His search produced an extra two magazines of ammunition and he jammed them into one of the back pockets of his jeans, before tapping Rafael lightly on the back, "Keep moving."

They took off slowly, keeping low and in the shadows of the large stacks of containers, guns gripped firmly out in front of them, their eyes constantly searching for any sign of movement. They covered the last twenty metres to the ramp off the deck without incident, turning to make their way down it and off the ship.

As soon as they stepped out into the open they heard the unmistakeable sound of automatic fire and felt the heat as bullets started pounding into the deck and whistling through the air around them.

"Move it!" Luis yelled, shoving Rafael in the back, forcing him into a sprint to the jeep as the bullets continued raining down on them.

Rafael reached the cover of the vehicle a split second before Luis, sliding down and around the end of it, shielding himself from the hail of metal that was being sent their way. Unfortunately for the older agent, that split second of extra exposure was all it took for things to go from bad to worse. As he rounded the end of the vehicle he felt a sudden flare of intense heat in his right arm.

"Shit," Luis breathed as he dropped to the ground behind one wheel of the jeep, finally reaching the safety of cover.

"What?" asked Rafael, turning his attention away from trying to identify where the attack was coming from, "Fuck."

Luis looked down at his arm and saw that he had been very lucky. The bullet had only grazed his arm, burning a small path across the surface of his triceps as it punched through any obstacles on its journey. Blood oozed from the wound, but it wasn't very deep; it wouldn't hinder him apart from the pain. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to block it out as much as he could.

"Only clipped me." Luis grimaced. He poked his head back around the jeep to try and locate the two marksmen, "We need to get the fuck out of here."

"You want that thing bandaged first?" asked Rafael, his eyes glued to the wound on the elder boy's arm.

"No time." Luis shook his head, "We need to be out of here before they put too many holes in our ride." He fished into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the jeep, "You're driving. Get her started up and whatever you do, don't hesitate."

The younger boy nodded, accepting the keys and waiting as Luis shuffled along to the front of the jeep, taking cover behind the bonnet of the vehicle. Once there he nodded to Rafael who jumped into the cab and clambered over the passenger seat, sliding into the driver's side and began frantically searching for the ignition.

When they had seen movement again, the two guards had opened fire, hoping to get lucky with a shot as they held the triggers down. Unfortunately for them they had set up position on top of a stack of freight containers that were down the far end of the deck, around two-hundred and fifty metres away. An AK can reliably hit a target up to four-hundred metres away, but it's almost impossible if you just hold down the trigger on full-auto. By spraying and praying, the pair of guards were sending bullets everywhere but where they were aiming.

This meant the two boys were relatively safe and all it ended up doing for the two guards was light up their location and provide an easy target to aim for. Bringing his recently acquired assault rifle up to his shoulder, Luis switched into single-round mode and squeezed the trigger lightly. The gun kicked against his shoulder as it loosed a bullet and he took a second to steady himself and get into a stronger stance.

As a bullet slammed into the bonnet inches in front of his face, the hail of fire from above stopped as the two guns ran their ammunition dry. A savage grin threatened to appear as Luis imagined the look on the two guards faces as they frantically scrambled for another magazine to reload with. He exhaled deeply before firing a five-round burst towards the position of the two men, his finger rapidly twitching on the trigger. The last round left his gun as the engine in front of him rumbled to life, coinciding with one of the bullets finding its mark, smashing into the body of one of the men on top of the container stack, sending him tumbling to the deck below.

"Let's go!" Rafael yelled from inside the jeep as Luis scrambled around and threw himself into the vehicle.

The younger boy floored the accelerator even as Luis was only halfway inside the cab, forcing him into his seat. No further gunfire followed them from the ship, but as they rounded the far end of the floating hulk of metal and turned a sharp corner on the access road, they were met with the sight of another jeep screaming towards them.

"Gun it, Rafa," growled Luis as he switched the AK in his hands to fully-automatic.

Rafael obliged and the engine roared louder as his foot met the floor, increasing their speed towards the onrushing vehicle. The access road they were on was barely wide enough for the two jeeps and they were both racing down the middle of it, neither giving any ground. The blood seeping down Luis' arm had reached his hand, causing the warm liquid to run over the handle of his assault rifle, making it slick to the touch, but he gripped it with a confidence that only years of weapons training can give a person.

He leaned out of the side of the jeep, bracing himself against the seat and brought the assault rifle up to aim, squeezing the trigger and sending a flurry of bullets towards the other jeep. The recoil was slightly more than Luis was expecting and most of the shots sailed high. He quickly corrected though and the next burst of fire found its mark, smashing through the windshield and crashing into the bonnet of the approaching vehicle.

As the bullets buried themselves into metal and glass, Luis running the rest of the magazine dry, the jeep swerved from the road, flying off the side of it and into the water. Either the driver had been hit and slumped across the wheel, or he had decided that he'd rather take his chances plunging into the sea than continue into an onrush of hot lead.

"Jesus Christ," Rafael breathed as he glanced across to where the other jeep had left the road, "Nice shooting."

"Don't slow down," replied Luis, fishing into his back pocket for a spare magazine, flinging the empty one out of the door. After he jammed a full magazine into the assault rifle, Luis wrenched back the charging handle to prime the gun as Rafael whipped the jeep around the end of the access road to the ship, speeding their way to where the speedboats were moored.

"Which boat are we going for?" asked Rafael as he eyed up the six boats tied to a small jetty around five-hundred metres from where they were. It was directly across the roadway from where the small complex of security buildings was and he was very aware of the commotion coming from that area and the presence of a lot more gun-toting guards.

"Not a fucking clue," admitted Luis, "It's just got a tag that says 'Boat Three' on it." He pulled the key from his pocket, passing it over to the younger boy who took it and stuffed it into a pocket of his jeans, "Pull up right next to the jetty and find that fucking boat as quickly as you can. I'll see if I can keep them from getting too close."

As they roared towards the jetty and the complex of buildings their presence was noticed and by the time they had pulled up at the end of the solid wooden construction there were more than a dozen assault rifles aimed towards their little jeep.

"You are surrounded!" A voice rang out from the buildings across the roadway, shouting in Basque, "There is nowhere you can go!"

"Find that fucking boat," Luis hissed to Rafael as he pushed him out of the driver's side, following him through as the younger boy sprinted down the jetty to try and find the right boat.

Luis himself slid out and round to the front wheel, taking cover behind the bonnet again. To try and keep Rafael hidden so that they didn't start lighting up the boats, he bounced up from his crouched position and let loose a long burst towards the buildings, not knowing exactly where any of the guards were. Almost immediately they returned fire, bullets slamming into the body of the jeep and forcing Luis back down behind the wheel as hot metal fried the air around him. He didn't dare expose himself from cover as the bullets rained down on him, no break in the volley as guards reloaded at different times.

He let out a large breath as he heard Rafael shout out from the darkness, and the soft rumble of an outboard motor started up, signalling he had found the right boat. As the younger agent pulled off the mooring ropes, his elder counterpart timed his sprint from cover to perfection. Waiting for a drop in the hail of fire as over half of the guards stopped to reload he sprang up from behind the jeep and took off towards the boat.

As he jinked around a mooring post and leapt into the boat he felt the heat as bullet fizzed through the air by his ear. Luis landed with a crash on the floor of the speedboat and Rafael gunned the engine as soon as he saw the boy sprawl onto the floor. The boat was a sleek little two-seat affair, with a small area just behind the two seats that Luis had landed in.

"Any time you want to send this place sky high, feel free to," Luis announced as he straightened himself up, leaning against one side of the boat as it roared out of the bay.

"You got it, Lu," nodded Rafael, fishing into the pocket of his jeans. As Luis grabbed the AK from where it had landed on the floor and watched as some of the guards jumped into more of the boats, the younger boy started his own little countdown, a rhyme that he had picked up from his life before CHERUB, "One for the money. Two for the show. Three for the ready. Fuck it! Let's GO!"

As he counted down, Rafael flicked the cover for the trigger open, exposing a little button on top and then held down a switch on the side of the plastic, lighting up the one on top in a glorious shade of red. With the charges now armed, a smile broke out on the boy's face and as he yelled out the final words he smashed his thumb down onto the trigger, setting off the entire series of strategically placed charges.

To say the explosion was spectacular would be an understatement. An enormous boom rocked the bay as the ship exploded in a giant ball of flame, reaching higher than the tallest container stack. The shockwave flew across the water and slammed into the boat as the heat travelled closely behind it, attacking the two boys.

"Jesus..." Luis breathed as he studied the wreckage. Twisted metal lay in chunks on the ravaged deck, the remnants of freight containers having been mangled and thrown out across the water. A giant hole had opened up in the hull and water rushed in, dropping the ship lower and lower into the water as fires raged across the decks.

"WOOO-WEEE!" Rafael yelled, "I told you that was gonna be one hell of a bang!"

"You weren't wrong," replied Luis. He glanced behind them, seeing three more of the speedboats peeling out from the jetty, "Got three coming for us. Get Chris on the line and tell him where we're headed, I'll hold these guys off."

"No sleep for The Reaper," Rafael chuckled to himself as he pulled his phone from a pocket in his jeans. Flipping through his contacts he quickly found the number for his handler, disguised as a takeaway shop, and smashed the dial button with his thumb. Again, it was picked up after little more than a single ring.

"Rafael, what is the situation? We've just been put on full-alert by units on the border."

"Yeah, that was us. We were pretty generous with the charges."

As the boat flew past the smouldering wreckage of the ship bursts of fire opened up from behind them. Rafael heard a much louder burst as Luis returned fire having wedged himself into a corner at the back of the boat, providing him a stable position to shoot from.

"Was that gunfire?" The phone crackled as Chris' voice came through it.

"Yeah, lots of it. We've stolen a speedboat and we're getting out of Basque country across the water. Apparently the Spanish military have some boats stationed out of Castro Urdiales, think you can get word through to them?"

"CNI are on it now," Chris replied after briefly shouting something off-phone, "How far from Spanish waters are you?"

"Not even out of the harbour yet," replied Rafael as they sped past a few smaller cargo vessels docked to their right. There was still over a kilometre of water between them and the harbour's mouth as he heard Luis shout something at him, "Shit, hold on."

Rafael turned to see what Luis was yelling about and noticed that there were now only two boats following them. The Grim Reaper was taking names tonight.

"I need your pistol mags!" Luis shouted again at Rafael, "AK's empty!"

Rafael shrugged his backpack off as a couple of volleys of automatic fire got way too close for comfort, a few bullets slamming into the hull of the speedboat. He slid the backpack along the floor of the boat towards Luis, pointing at it.

"Mags are in the front pocket of the pack!"

As Rafael returned to updating Chris on what was happening, Luis had pulled the pistol from his jeans and unscrewed the silencer before jamming a fresh clip into it. He took a deep breath, steadying his aim. All he had was the pistol and he was staring down the barrels of seven further AK-47s, all intent on blowing holes in himself and the younger agent driving the getaway boat.

Luis let off a few rounds towards the nearest boat before a bullet whistled past him and thumped into the lining of the boat just behind him. He didn't flinch, instead upped his rate of fire, emptying the entire clip, one bullet managing to bury itself into a man's shoulder. Pushing himself lower to cover himself behind the edge of the boat he pulled a fresh magazine from where had laid them all out. He had just three left on the floor after loading one into the pistol and with each magazine only housing twelve bullets, there wasn't much to hold off the two boats with.

"You get this thing to go any faster, Rafa!?" Luis yelled as he let off a few more rounds towards the chasing boats.

"Don't want to roll the fucking thing. We're already jumping waves as it is!"

As if to emphasise his point the boat made a particularly hard landing on one wave, jarring Luis as it knocked him against the side of the boat. He couldn't help but see the funny side, as if Mother Nature herself were answering his question.

"Point taken," mumbled Luis. He let off a few more bullets at the boats as they roared out of the harbour and into the open sea, "You get word through to the Spanish?"

"Yeah," Rafael nodded as a bullet smacked into the windshield around the passenger seat, smashing it and sending glass everywhere, "Son of a bitch!"

"Keep it together, Rafa," shouted Luis, "We'll be out of the shit once they see the boats roll up."

"We've got to make it all the way to Spanish waters for that to happen."

"What!? They not sending anyone out to us?"

"They scrambled a couple of fast attack craft, but they won't come into Basque waters. Said it would count as an act of war and they don't want to push that right now."

"Fucking hell..." Luis seethed, pausing their conversation to empty another magazine at the chasing boats, a few rounds smashing into the hull of one of them. He loaded a fresh clip as he turned back to Rafael, "We just took out most of their weapons for God's sake! The least they could do is make sure we get home in one fucking piece."

"We'll make it," Rafael replied, the complete faith in his words clearly evident. A wild grin spread across his face as he spoke, "La Parca siempre gana."

The grin spread to Luis' face as he realised where Rafael's confidence stemmed from. The gun flashed hot in his hand as he directed fire towards the closest boat, hitting one of the men on board square in the head.

"La Parca siempre gana."