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com
For the kids of Broadway Comprehensive School,
the kids of Birmingham who try their best,
and Tony Benn (RIP), who first told me to
write this book.

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Table of Contents

Title Page
Dedication

Chapter 1: Riot in Progress

Chapter 2: Fire in Progress
Chapter 3: Computer Kid
Chapter 4: More Work, Less Pay
Chapter 5: States of Emergency
Chapter 6: More Work, More Pay
Chapter 7: Woodpecker Remembered
Chapter 8: Friends Reunited?
Chapter 9: Like Father, Like Son?
Chapter 10: Job Done. Now What?
Chapter 11: A Change of Mind
Chapter 12: The Real Deal
Chapter 13: A Protest Like No Other
Chapter 14: Best Laid Plans?
Chapter 15: The Deliberate Accident?
Chapter 16: Blood is Thicker Than Water
Chapter 17: Road Block
Chapter 18: A Friend in Need?
Chapter 19: A Bit of Cash Here, A Bit of Cash There
Chapter 20: Room Service
Chapter 21: My Name is Rico Federico
Chapter 22: More Questions than Answers
Chapter 23: Free Speech
Chapter 24: Friends Disunited
Chapter 25: Judgement Days

Hope and Fear

About the Author
Also by Benjamin Zephaniah
Copyright
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 Chapter 1

Riot in Progress

Rico stood and stared as the shopping trolley flew through the air and
smashed through the sports shop window. The boots and shoulders of the
rioters had already weakened the toughened glass, and the force of the
trolley caused the whole pane to shatter and collapse. Before the glass had
even settled, a sea of people charged into the shop. The rioters danced, they
chanted and they celebrated as they left the shop carrying balls, bats,
trainers and football shirts, anything they could pick up and carry away.
It was a hot, sticky Friday night in Birmingham, but the riots happening
there had started five days earlier when a young woman had been shot dead
by police in Leyton, East London. Young people all over London were
angered, and started protests and demonstrations. On one of those
demonstrations a police officer pushed another teenage girl to the ground
and kicked her whilst she was down. A bystander filmed it all on his phone
and uploaded it to the Internet, and then the anger spread. The
demonstrations turned to riots, and in a few days the riots had spread west
to Bristol and north to Wolverhampton, Salford, Nottingham, Manchester
and Rico’s city, Birmingham. The British people, mainly young people of
all races, all faiths, and many with no faith, were rioting up and down the
country. They had had enough.

Rico Federico stood on Dudley Road and watched as shop after shop was
smashed, rushed and then emptied. A large number of police wearing hard
helmets and dressed in heavy black protective clothing gathered at the top
of the road carrying shields. The police charged but they were outnumbered
by the mob and were soon forced back to watch from their lines. A police
car and a bus were set on fire. Fire alarms, car alarms and burglar alarms
rang out from near and far, and Rico seemed to be the only one standing
still. He turned a full circle to see the destruction all about him. Suddenly
someone put their arm around his shoulders and ran their fingers through
his hair.
‘Rico, it’s showtime,’ a voice shouted in his ear.
It was Karima. Karima was the tough, fiery daughter of Somalian
refugees and the closest Rico had to a best friend, but they were very
different in character. Karima was charismatic and had many other friends.
Rico just had Karima. She was into kick-boxing and grappling; Rico
couldn’t beat a doll up. Karima was loud, cool and streetwise; Rico wasn’t.
Karima was addicted to social networking sites; Rico didn’t care for them.
But even though Rico wasn’t interested in chatting to people online or
collecting hundreds of online friends, he was definitely into computer
hardware, computer programming and his computer repair business. He was
really into computers. But to relax they both loved playing computer games.
Karima just loved the thrill of winning, whilst Rico would spend time
modifying the code and changing the graphics. They were an odd couple.
Rico was surprised to see her.
‘What you doing here?’ said Rico, looking at the gang of other people
that she was with.
‘Shopping, man,’ she said with a wide grin on her face.
‘Shopping?’ Rico replied disapprovingly.
‘The revolution has come, let’s go shopping!’ Karima shouted, beckoning
him on as if into battle.
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ said Rico, taking her arm off his shoulder.
Karima and her gang ran off into a phone shop to continue their
shopping, and Rico began to walk away.

Everybody, it seemed, was doing something, either heading to a shop to get

free stuff, or leaving a shop with their hands full. Some carried their loot on
top of their heads, some on bicycles, and others used shopping trolleys from
the very shops they had looted. It was so easy. The police were at one end
of the street, but the rest of the street belonged to the looters, who just took
what they wanted and left at the other end. As he walked away Rico heard
his name being called behind him. It was Karima and her gang. They ran
past him with their hands full of boxes and bags.
 ‘See you later, brov,’ shouted Karima as they ran off triumphantly.
Rico carried on walking up Dudley Road and before long he had left the
rioting behind and reached the road where he lived. As he turned the corner
a police van screeched to a stop. Four officers jumped out of the van and
ran up to him, but Rico wasn’t worried, he was calm and ready to explain
that he had nothing to do with the riots. But there was no time for that; he
was taken straight to the ground before he could say a word.
‘Where’s the stuff you took?’ asked one officer.
‘I didn’t take any stuff.’ Rico’s face was being pushed into the ground,
his lips pressed against the pavement, making it difficult to speak.
‘You’re under arrest for theft!’ yelled the officer.
‘But I haven’t taken anything!’ shouted Rico as he was picked up and
thrown into the cage at the back of the van. The van door was slammed
shut. Rico was alone, and there was silence. Then the van drove off at high
speed. It wasn’t the first time that Rico had been picked up by the police for
no reason. Rico could only think about his parents and the stress his arrest
would cause them. They had worked so hard to get where they were now.
Both his parents were Spanish Romany. As children in Spain, his parents
had been spat at, beaten up and refused education. But they had been
determined to make a new life for themselves. They came to Birmingham
where his father had worked as a builder and then started a small building
firm of his own. It was doing well but then they decided to have a family.
Then he got work in the city planning department. He was quickly
promoted so his rise from nomad to city planner was fast. His mother
started her new life in England sewing shirts in a sweatshop, and then she
went to college, studied hard, did her training, and became a nurse.

Rico’s parents had often taken him to the library as a young boy and as he
grew older he had read about the history of the Romany people. But he
didn’t identify himself as Romany, He was a Brummie; born and bred in
Birmingham, with a Birmingham accent. With his straight nose, light skin
and mousy hair, no one would guess he had Romany roots, not even other
Roma people. He didn’t smile much, he didn’t hang out in gangs, he didn’t
follow the crowd, and he didn’t care what people thought of him. Friends
came and went, but that didn’t worry him. He didn’t use the word ‘politics’
much – like his parents, he didn’t care for political parties, but he did care
about people. In the library and inspired by his parents’ lives he had
searched out stories of how other people struggled and fought for their
rights and of how sometimes people’s rights were taken away from them.
Like millions of other people he watched the news on television and saw
wars and famines around the world, he saw how people were forced to flee
their countries for safety, and how one group of people could oppress
another, and when he had listened to all the politicians talking and making
excuses, he still couldn’t understand why. Why people did the things they
did to each other, and why decent people didn’t rise up to end the conflicts
and inequalities in the world. He was sensitive to the suffering of others, but
just feeling sorry for them was not enough: he wanted to help them, he
wanted to do something. He was angry, but his anger was silent. He hated
violence, but he wanted to change the world. He just didn’t know how.
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 Chapter 2

Fire in Progress

The police van arrived at the station, and Rico was taken by two officers to
the front desk. It was a busy night. Rico was waiting for the Enquiry Officer
to process two people in front of him when he heard a commotion outside.
He could hear officers shouting, telling their captives to be quiet, but they
got louder and louder as they got nearer. Rico kept looking ahead until they
entered the station and he heard his name.
‘Rico. What’s happening, bad boy?’ It was Karima. She was grinning as
if nothing was wrong.
‘What kind of a question is that?’ said Rico. ‘Can’t you see they’ve
arrested me?’
‘So what stuff did you get?’
‘Nothing. You know I was just walking home and minding my own
business,’ Rico replied.
‘You see,’ said Karima, pointing to Rico as if he was a naughty boy. ‘You
should have done some shopping, brov, at least you would have done
something to get arrested for.’
The others, three boys and one girl, all began to laugh, but Rico, not
wanting to engage with any of them, just turned away and looked at the
back of the boy in front of him.
‘They’re laughing, but even you know this isn’t funny,’ said Rico.
One of the many arresting officers now standing in the reception area
shouted, ‘Right, that’s enough. Keep your noise down.’
Karima and her friends continued to laugh and snigger, ignoring the
seriousness of their situation. Karima, as usual, was the leader of the pack
and did most of the talking, working hard at giving the impression she was
having fun. Rico always thought that Karima overdosed on fun to overcome
the pain of her childhood. She had seen too much brutality of war in her
homeland. But Rico didn’t do fun. Outside of his family, Rico just couldn’t
find much fun in the world to be joyous about.

The Enquiry Officer at the front desk checked them in and they were all
formally arrested, then they were separated and led away for questioning.
Rico was taken to a room where he was told to sit down by the officer who
had arrested him. The officer sat opposite him but said nothing for a couple
of minutes. When he did speak he did so quietly, and slowly.
‘Right, young man, listen to me carefully. My name is Detective
Constable Holland. I’m going to give you a few more moments to think
about where you are, and then I want you to tell me who called you out onto
the streets tonight, and where you hid the goods that you stole.’
Rico wasn’t playing his game.
‘I don’t need any more moments. I don’t need anything from you. What I
need is to go home, because no one called me out, I didn’t steal anything,
and you got nothing on me.’
‘We got something on you all right,’ said the officer, maintaining his low,
serious tone.
‘What?’ asked Rico.
‘We saw you walking down Dudley Road, we saw you talking to your
criminally minded friends, and we know that you entered at least one shop
on the Dudley Road and helped yourself to some stock. My colleagues are
looking at CCTV footage as we speak, so soon, if you can’t remember, I’ll
be able to show you what you’ve been up to. So you might as well tell me
now. That way we save time and get this stuff done with quickly.’
Rico cracked a small smile. ‘It’s all good then. I can’t wait to see this
footage.’
‘Good,’ said the officer. ‘I suppose you’re now going to demand a lawyer
and you’re going to tell me that I should respect your human rights.’ He
pointed to the door. ‘Well, what about the human rights of the people you’re
robbing out there? Hey, what about them?’
Rico was unmoved. ‘I don’t need a lawyer, and I ain’t said anything
about my human rights. I just want to see this footage you have of me.’
Another officer put his head around the door; Officer Holland saw him,
and said, ‘I’ll be back.’ And left the room.
Rico sat looking around the pale, empty walls for five minutes, then
Detective Constable Holland returned and opened the door as wide as it
could go.
‘Right, pick yourself up, you’re free to go.’ He seemed to speak
reluctantly, acting as if the conversation they’d just had hadn’t happened.
Rico slapped the table and spoke angrily.
‘You see. I’m sick of this. So where’s this footage of me? There isn’t any,
is there? No, you lot just lost control of the streets, so you just start picking
up everyone you can to make up for your stupidity.’
The officer stared angrily at Rico. ‘What’s this? You want to stay, do
you? I’m sure it can be arranged.’
‘I’m sure it can be arranged too, but whatever you lot do you can’t scare
me. Stop and search me as much as you like, arrest me as much as you like,
you don’t scare me,’ said Rico. ‘Give me my stuff and let me go. I don’t
need to stay here any longer.’
Rico stood up and followed the officer out to the reception. As they
arrived Rico saw his father confronting the desk sergeant. His father was
short, but he made the noise of many men as he stamped his feet, banged
his fist on the desk, and pointed with his other hand, shouting at the
sergeant.
‘Let me in. I want to see my son now. You have no right to keep him
here.’
The desk sergeant shuffled some papers around and replied without
looking up.
‘I told you, sir, we’re bringing him out to you. Raising your voice will
not speed up the process.’
‘Process. What process? You don’t have any process, you’re just a bunch
of crooks and liars. And don’t call me sir. Now, where is he?’
‘Here I am,’ said Rico.
‘Over to you, Sarge,’ said the officer.
Rico’s father, Stefan, shouted, ‘Rico. Have they charged you?’
‘No. They can’t touch me,’ Rico replied.
‘You haven’t heard the last of this,’ said Stefan to the desk sergeant. ‘I’m
going to lodge a complaint.’
‘You’re free to do so,’ said the desk sergeant, who then waved Rico over.
‘I need you to sign for your possessions and you can be off.’
 Rico’s father carried on at the desk sergeant.
‘You think you can do whatever you like? Well, you can’t. This is the
fifth time you’ve picked him up this year, for no reason at all. He’s fifteen,
what do you want to do, give him a criminal record before he’s sixteen?
You haven’t heard the last of this. You wait. This isn’t the end.’
Handing over a see-through polythene bag with Rico’s belongings, the
sergeant said, ‘He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘The wrong place at the wrong time?’ shouted Stefan, his voice getting
even louder as he repeated the sergeant’s words. ‘The wrong place at the
wrong time? That’s what you lot say every time you pick him up. The
wrong place at the wrong time. He was born in this area, he lives in this
area, he goes to school in this area, and he keeps getting picked up in this
area. So now you tell me, where is the right place at the right time? Come
on, tell me.’
‘Come on, Dad, let’s go,’ said Rico.

Rico and his father left the station and began to walk home. The air was
thick with smoke, the streets were busy, sirens could be heard all around,
and tension marked every face. As they got to the bottom of the road a car
screeched round the corner and sped towards the station. Rico and his father
turned to look. The car came to a sudden stop. Two arms appeared out of
the side windows, both holding lit petrol bombs, which they threw at the
police station. One hit the police station sign, and the other landed in the
doorway. The car sped away, going from nought to sixty in six seconds, and
Rico watched as the flames got bigger. The steps to the police station were
ablaze, flames began to cover the door, police officers ran out spraying
foam from fire extinguishers. Rico turned and began to head towards the
station. ‘We have to help them, Dad,’ Rico said.
His father grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
‘No, Rico,’ he said. ‘They’re taking care of it themselves. It’s got nothing
to do with us. We’re just in the wrong place, at the wrong time.’
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 Chapter 3

Computer Kid

At home Rico apologised to his father for disturbing his night, but Stefan
laughed and began to tell stories of the many times that his own father had
had to get him out of police stations. Rico listened, but his mind was
somewhere else.
‘I wonder what happened at the station after we left,’ he said.
‘They would have dealt with it,’ replied his father. ‘They have the
equipment and all the right contacts.’
‘I really hope no one got hurt.’
‘So do I. But let me tell you something, you’re worrying about them a lot
more than they’re worrying about you.’

Rico went up to his room to work on his computers. He had begun writing
software for games when he was twelve. He read everything he could about
computers, the people behind computers, the writing of software and the
future of computers. It was his passion. His first computer had been a cheap
laptop that he had bought from a second-hand shop but even after he had
upgraded it, it was too slow for what he needed to do, so he passed it on to
his mother. He had a Saturday job at Telford’s PC, a computer shop in the
city centre. The shop sold computers and accessories, but because of his
knowledge Rico was allowed to pursue a sideline in computer repairs. This
helped bring customers into the shop, and earned extra for him. The owner,
Timothy Telford, had another employee called Ana. Rico liked Ana. She
was obsessed with dressmaking and every day she came to work she would
be showing off one of her creations. She worked hard in the computer shop,
but her ambition was to earn enough money to start her own business
making and selling dresses.
When Rico was given toys as a small boy he didn’t play with them, he took
them apart. He would check every detail, examine every single part,
observe how they worked, and then put them back together. He felt that he
couldn’t play with them if he didn’t know how they worked. From toy cars
to tricycles, from torches to radios, he explored them all, and now he had
progressed to computers.
Rico’s repair business was flourishing. As well as the customers that
came into the shop, there were always friends, and friends of friends, who
would turn up at his house with broken games, tablets and laptops. In his
bedroom he had three fully networked desktop computers, which he had
made from recycled parts he got from friends, or leftover parts he got from
the shop. Now he was building another computer.
He had two tables covered with computer equipment. His latest creation
was on a table by the window. He had only been working on it for two days
but it was to be his most powerful yet. The keyboard and monitor were in
place waiting to be connected to a main case, with a fan, a sound card and a
couple of memory sticks. Most of these parts had been liberated from a box
of so-called junk that an estate agent had thrown out.
Rico loved history, but he knew the future was in computers.
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 Chapter 4

More Work, Less Pay

City Hospital was busy. Rico’s mother, Lena, spent most of her shift tending
to the elderly patients on her ward. Lena had worked on this ward for two
years and she had also worked on the children’s ward, the emergency ward
and the maternity ward in her time, so she was very experienced.
City Hospital was on Dudley Road, so some of the hospital staff could
hear the riots as they were happening on the streets. Lena was asked to go
and help in the emergency department – she had the experience, and they
were desperate. She arrived to find nurses and doctors rushing around,
frantically trying to keep up with all the casualties coming in. The Accident
and Emergency ward was always busy, but tonight was like no other. Along
with the DIY casualties and the drink- and-drug abusers, there were those
who had been touched by the riots. Most of these casualties were people
who had fallen or been pushed over as the crowds took to the streets, some
were victims of robberies, and others were shopkeepers who had tried to
defend their businesses.
Lena was thanked for working her many extra hours and told that she
was free to go. She went to the hospital car park, got into her old, battered
car and drove home.

As soon as Lena entered her house Rico came down from his room to see
her, and as soon as she saw him she called him over.
‘Come here and give me a hug,’ she said, her arms out wide.
As they were hugging, Stefan came into the living room and launched
into the story of Rico’s latest arrest. Lena wasn’t surprised – he had already
been stopped many times that year – but she was relieved to know that he
had been released and not injured in the riots. Lena listened and when
Stefan had told his story she began hers.
‘Well, what about my day at the office? There I was, happily tending to
my little old ladies, when suddenly I’m asked to go to A&E to deal with a
great big policeman who tells me that some kids beat him up, and then I
have to deal with a fifteen-year-old boy who tells me that he had been
kicked and beaten with a truncheon by a policeman. I used to work in the
NHS, now I work in a war zone. And last week they told us that we have a
pay freeze for another year. They keep giving us more targets to reach with
fewer staff and less money.’
Rico saw how tired and frustrated his mum looked.
She threw her bag down on the sofa. ‘I guess you expect me to make
dinner now?’
‘No way,’ said Stefan. ‘I’ve been slaving in that kitchen for the last hour
preparing something just for you. And you,’ he said to Rico.
‘Now, let me guess,’ said Lena. ‘Pasta.’
‘How did you know?’ asked Stefan.
‘Well, every time you cook up a surprise, it’s pasta,’ said Lena. ‘Don’t
you get it? That means it’s not a surprise any more.’
‘It’s pasta,’ Stefan said, grinning. ‘But not as you know it. It’s pasta with
a twist.’
‘Oh, yes. What’s the twist?
‘Salad,’ replied Stefan, throwing his hands up as if completing a magic
trick.
‘It will do – again!’ said Lena. Her face was tired but she was smiling.
‘Maybe I’ll just go for the salad,’ said Rico. ‘The last time I had your
pasta it stayed around for days.’
‘You said you liked it,’ said Stefan.
‘I was just trying to encourage you,’ replied Rico. ‘I realise now it was a
mistake.’
Stefan stamped his foot down as if to chase Rico, but he was laughing.
‘Get out of here.’
Rico ran upstairs to check on his computer work and Lena went to
change her clothes.
Rico’s software had downloaded, but his mother’s words were still running
around his head, so he left his work and started to look at news reports
about the health service and the targets they had to reach. Then he began
looking at all the cuts the service was suffering, and in a chat room for
health service workers he read their own stories of depression and hardship.
Very soon he was on the local National Health Service site. He looked
around it for a time and soon he found a login area for administrators. Rico
became curious, so using the password-cracking software he had developed
to help people who had forgotten their own passwords, within a few
minutes he managed to gain access to the back end of the site, and found
details and login credentials of other systems within the NHS. He entered
the payroll system and keyed in his mother’s name. He could see her years
of service, her position in the hospital, her National Insurance number and
her wages. Then he saw in bold red letters: TRADE UNION ACTIVIST.
Stefan shouted up from the bottom of the stairs, ‘Your dinner’s ready.’
Rico quickly closed his mother’s profile and loaded some more software
that would help hide any trace of his activities.

Downstairs, the family sat down to eat and, after an initial tasting of the
food, both Lena and Rico gave it the thumbs up.
‘This is quite nice, you know,’ said Lena.
‘Yes,’ said Rico. ‘I really like it.’
‘You see,’ said Stefan. ‘I told you it was different.’
‘Something’s happening in this country,’ said Lena. ‘Accident and
Emergency used to be full of men falling off ladders, children falling off
swings, and women falling off their heels. Now it’s stab wounds and bullet
holes, and tonight it’s revolution.’
‘I wish it was revolution,’ said Stefan.
‘I wish they’d all just go home. Nothing’s going to change by smashing
up a few shops,’ said Rico.
‘How come you’re so sensible?’ said Lena. ‘You didn’t get it from your
dad. Anyway, are you OK?’
‘I’m fine,’ replied Rico.
‘How did they treat you?’
‘Like they always do,’ said Rico.
‘You didn’t do anything, did you?’
 Rico was surprised by her question. ‘Mum, come on. You know I’m not
doing anything wrong out there.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Stefan interrupted. ‘Wrong place, wrong time again.’
‘When is it not the wrong place, and the wrong time?’ Lena sighed,
leaning over and stroking Rico’s arm.
‘That’s exactly what I said,’ said Stefan. ‘That’s exactly what I said.’

Rico ate his food as quickly as he could and stood up from the table.
‘Excuse me. I’ve got to go. I’ve got some software running that I need to
check.’
As Rico was heading back upstairs his mother asked, ‘So how are your
computers then?’
‘It’s all good,’ Rico replied. ‘I got four now.’
Lena thought he was exaggerating. ‘Rico! Two days ago you told me you
had three and you were going to start work on another one.’
‘That’s right,’ Rico said casually. ‘I was building another one, and now
I’ve finished it.’
‘You finished it already?’
‘Yes, I told you I would get it done before the end of the week.’
‘And I heard you, but I thought you were talking about next week. What
are you doing with four of them?’ she asked. ‘Are you now going to start
selling them as well as fixing them?’
‘I don’t know. I might do.’ Rico replied. ‘I just like building them and
writing software. To test some of the codes I’ve written I needed a network
of computers, so I’ve created my own network.’
Lena looked at Stefan proudly and said, ‘He’s so clever. Didn’t we do
well?’
‘Got to go,’ said Rico, slightly embarrassed. ‘I left my computers
working on something in parallel and I need to check the output.’
‘I need to check on you too,’ shouted Lena. ‘Parental guidance. I know
what you teenagers are like.’
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 Chapter 5

States of Emergency

Some were calling it the summer of discontent. And it was not just in
Britain. A series of uprisings had begun in Tunisia and spread to Egypt,
Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Morocco and other Arab and North African
countries. Russia demanded free and fair elections. Then the uprisings
started in Europe. Hungarians took to the streets so their voices could be
heard. Portugal, Spain and Italy were running out of money, and in Greece
there were daily riots as workers demanded better wages and pensions, and
the unemployed demanded jobs.
Britain was broke, and the government raised taxes on fuel and goods in
shops. Household taxes were raised too, but as homelessness increased, cuts
were made to the money spent on charities, youth clubs, art centres,
services for the disabled, libraries and schools, whilst at the same time the
fees that university students had to pay were raised. So as unemployment
rose, people took to the streets. Those who were educated, connected and
organised began to plan marches and demonstrations. Those who were not,
simply went out and vented their anger on the streets in any way they could.
Sometimes that meant occupying banks and churches, sometimes it meant
burning and looting.
In the weeks and months following the riots in Britain, the government
ordered the courts to open late into the night and at weekends. They
requested that, where possible, judges give out maximum sentences to make
examples of the offenders, and to administer judgement swiftly. Tired
judges and lawyers struggled to keep up with the numbers of young people
being taken into custody, and most newspaper reports failed to question
why such riots would happen in the first place, simply portraying all the
rioters as mindless thugs.
 Karima and her friends were treated leniently because of their age. They
were sentenced to one month in youth custody. They were warned that any
appearance in front of the courts in the future would attract much longer
sentences. They were lucky. One fourteen-year-old was sentenced to four
years for sending a text message to his friends telling them to take to the
streets. His friends didn’t take to the streets, and nor did he, but the judge
said: ‘It’s the thought that counts.’
Rico was angry. He watched what was happening around the world,
frustrated that he couldn’t do anything about it. He watched television
programmes about how the rich lived and how the poor lived, and how
people lived divided all over the planet. Everything he saw made him
realise that people all over the world could have much better lives if they
had more of a say in the way their lives were governed. He believed in the
power of the people. His problem was, he just didn’t know many people. He
didn’t know anybody like him: people who weren’t rioting but who wanted
to do something. He had nowhere to go to find like-minded people. He had
tried to start debating groups at school but there had been no interest. He
had tried to organise a group of kids at school to go on a demonstration
supporting his mother and her trade union when they were on strike, but no
one turned up. He went on his own to demonstrations organised by
university students who were protesting about the rise in their fees. The first
student protest he went on was with his sister when she was a student, but
he felt so strongly about issues concerning young people that even when
Lola had left home he went on other demonstrations. On these
demonstrations he would not chant or sing, he would just walk silently. He
just wanted to be counted.
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 Chapter 6

More Work, More Pay

The day after the riots, Rico went to work as he always did. There were still
small pockets of unrest and there were noticeably fewer people around than
usual, so business in the shop was slow. The newspapers, the television and
the Internet were covering news of the troubles. Students from all over the
West Midlands were going to march through the city centre protesting
against increases in university fees. The police had told them not to, but the
student union insisted that the march would go ahead. It had been planned
months in advance, and they were not going to reschedule. Rico wanted to
go on that march and, just like the student union, he’d be stopped by
nothing. He had to show his solidarity. He knew the issues, and he wasn’t
going to wait until he was a student before he started caring.
With so few customers visiting the shop, Rico was allowed to leave work
early. He walked the short distance to Digbeth, where the students and their
supporters had gathered. After some speeches and a lecture from the
stewards on how to behave, they began walking towards the city centre.
After an hour Rico was beginning to wish that he had brought something to
eat. He was getting hungrier and hungrier, but they kept marching on, and
the more they marched the louder they became. Rico started to get tired, but
he was encouraged by the demonstrators chanting, the drummers drumming
out rhythms to match their chants, people blowing whistles, and onlookers
shouting words of support. But he was still hungry.
The sun began to get brighter and hotter, and by the time they reached
Colmore Circus their numbers had swelled and spirits were high. The
crowd gathered in front of a large stage to hear speeches from student
leaders, trade unionists and poets. As he stood listening to a student reading
her poem, Rico heard someone call his name.
 ‘Rico.’
The voice came from close behind him, so close he thought it might have
been in his head. Then he heard it again.
‘Rico. How’s it going, mate?’
This time Rico looked behind him and saw a tall man smiling at him.
Rico ignored him; if this wasn’t the man who had called his name, Rico
didn’t want to embarrass himself. After all, the man smiling could just be
smiling because he was happy, or because he liked the poem. Rico just
wasn’t sure, so he turned back and continued listening to the poet.
‘Rico. I’m your man,’ the voice said again.
This time when Rico turned around, the man spoke to him directly.
‘Good to see you.’
The man moved so that he was directly in front of Rico.
‘It’s a good turnout.’
‘It’s all right,’ replied Rico.
The man was in his late thirties, clean-shaven and smartly dressed in
pressed trousers, white shirt and black waistcoat. Despite his well-ironed
image there was something edgy about him. He had two small earrings in
each ear, and a tattoo of a lion’s head on his neck. He continued to look
ahead as he spoke.
‘Students love to demonstrate – they always have done – but what
happens when they grow up?’
‘So what are you saying?’ said Rico. ‘Don’t you support them?’
‘Yeah, of course I support them, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. I just
wonder where it’s leading, what it changes.’
‘So do I,’ Rico said. ‘But it’s better than doing nothing. Who are you,
anyway, and how do you know my name?’
‘You just don’t know who to trust nowadays.’
‘What does that mean?’
The man looked at Rico, and then he looked into the distance.
‘I support the students, but I came here to see you. Can we go somewhere
to talk?’
‘I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you from Adam.’
‘You didn’t know me, but you do now,’ the man said, smiling. ‘My
name’s Speech.’
 ‘What kind of a name is that? And just knowing your name is not
knowing you.’
‘Put it like this, everyone calls me Speech.’
Rico frowned. ‘How do you know my name, anyway?’
‘I make it my business to know stuff, and we have a friend in common.
Don’t worry, it’s all cool.’
Rico was beginning to get angry.
‘Stop talking rubbish, man, and tell me about this friend and tell me what
you want.’
Speech dropped his voice in an attempt to sound friendlier.
‘Come on, let’s go for a walk.’
Rico’s anger heightened.
‘What’s wrong with you, guy? I told you, I’m not going anywhere with
you, I don’t know you, man.’
‘It’s all cool,’ said Speech. ‘Just give me a few minutes for a quick chat. I
want to put some work your way.’
‘If you want to put work my way you come to the shop. I’m there every
Saturday. If not, just leave your computer and the staff will make a note of
what you want me to do.’
‘No, I can’t do that. Come on. Let’s walk. I’ll explain why.’
Rico looked around as he thought about walking away. As he caught
Speech’s eye, Speech cracked a smile.
‘Trust me,’ said Speech. ‘It’s a job, a good job. If you don’t want it, don’t
take it – but at least hear me out.’
‘OK. But that’s all I’m doing. Hearing you out,’ replied Rico nervously.
They began to move away from the demonstration, but Speech dictated
the route, and as they walked Speech made small talk about the weather, the
rising price of music downloads, and the lack of good music in the charts.
Rico kept looking around trying to see if there was anyone else involved,
others who might be watching and waiting, but he saw nothing that looked
suspicious. After a bit more small talk, he didn’t feel he was in any danger,
but he couldn’t think what Speech would want with him.

They came to a large road junction and went down a subway to pass
underneath. At the centre of the subway system was a plot of grass with a
water feature that wasn’t working. Speech stopped. Rico stopped.
 ‘So, what’s up?’ asked Rico.
‘Like I said, I need you to do some work for me.’
‘Repairs depend on the price of parts, but if you want me to write a
programme for you it’s £100 a day, paid at the end of each day, in cash. For
half days, £50 – anything over a half costs you full.’
Speech nodded approvingly. ‘You could be a businessman.’
‘I am a businessman,’ said Rico.
‘Could you build a website for me?’
‘Of course I can.’
‘How long will it take you?’
‘It depends on how big you want it.’
‘Just an average-size website, but I want it custom built. Not one of these
cheap off-the-shelf ones. I want good graphics, sharp photos, and it’s got to
be user-friendly.’
Rico thought for a while. He didn’t get jobs like these often, but when he
did they earned him good money, and he needed some extra money for his
future business plans.
‘An average-size, custom-built website, made from scratch, with you
providing all the photos and links, will take me about two weeks. That will
cost you £1400.’
Rico thought it sounded expensive and Speech would start talking the
price down. He waited for him to start bargaining, but he didn’t.
‘Cool. I’ll give you £2000.’
‘Are you listening to me, man? I said it would cost you £1400.’
‘I know,’ said Speech. ‘But I want to pay you two grand.’
Rico was taken aback. ‘What the hell do you want to pay me two
thousand for? I only asked for one thousand, four hundred. Are you crazy or
what?’
‘I told you we had a friend in common.’
‘Yes. Who is it?’
‘Ana.’
‘Who? Ana that works in the shop?’
‘Yes, that Ana. You know what she does for a hobby?’
‘Yes, she designs and makes dresses.’
‘That’s right. I’m a good friend of hers. She did a big favour for me once,
and I want to repay her by getting this website built for her. But you have to
keep it a secret. It’s really important. This must be kept a secret until her
birthday. Don’t mention it to her. I want this to be the best birthday present
she’s ever had. Do you see what I’m trying to do?’
‘I see,’ said Rico. ‘So that’s why you can’t come into the shop?’
‘That’s right. And that’s why I’m paying you extra. This has to be
between me and you.’
Speech went into his inside jacket pocket and took out an envelope. He
held it out as he spoke. ‘Here are two memory sticks with photos and text
on them. I’m leaving it up to you to design it. You need to have a shop area
so people can buy online; all the prices are there so you can build a
checkout area and all that stuff. You’ll see the name of her company – you
need to use that and buy her a domain name.’
‘In that case I’ll need a deposit,’ said Rico.
‘There’s also £2000 in this envelope. That’s all your money, and more, up
front.’
‘You don’t need to do that,’ Rico said.
‘I know I don’t, but I want to. I want to leave you to it. I trust you, so I
want you to use your initiative, do what you think is good.’
‘Shall I call you?’ asked Rico.
‘No, I don’t have a phone. I’ll find you, don’t worry about that, just go
and do the job – but remember, not a word.’
He handed Rico the envelope. Rico could feel the memory sticks and the
thickness of the banknotes. ‘I’ll start straight away,’ he said.
Speech said goodbye and walked away, leaving Rico still thinking about
the unusual deal he had just done.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 7

Woodpecker Remembered

Rico got to work on the website straight away. He didn’t tell anyone about
his new job. He had built websites before, mainly for his friends’ bands, but
he had never built one this big, and he’d never done one for this much
money. He was determined to make a good job of it. On one of the memory
sticks he found all the text that was promoting the business, and on the
other he found photos of dresses with descriptions and prices. He had been
paid well, and because he had been given creative freedom he planned to
try out as many of his new ideas as possible.
He still did a bit of work for people who needed small jobs done, but he
used all the time he could to work on the website. After a week he had to go
back to do his day in the computer shop, where he was very tempted to ask
Ana questions. He wasn’t tempted to actually tell her about the website – he
really liked the idea of surprising her on her birthday – but he was tempted
to ask her what her favourite colour was, to make that the dominant colour
on her home page, or what her favourite type of music was, so he could
incorporate some on the site, or if she had a business logo in mind, but he
didn’t, just in case she got suspicious. At the end of the day he left the shop
and was making his way to the bus stop when Speech just appeared,
walking alongside him. Rico was startled but tried not to show it and kept
walking as if nothing had happened.
‘How’s it going?’ asked Speech.
‘It’s all good,’ replied Rico.
‘How’s the website?’
‘Like I said, it’s all good.’
‘That’s what I like to hear.’
‘Do you want to see it? You can if you like,’ said Rico.
 ‘No, I just wanted to see if there was anything you needed.’
‘I don’t need anything. I’m almost there.’
Suddenly Speech stopped. Rico carried on talking.
‘There’s a couple of things I’d like to know from Ana, but they’re not
that important, I can fix them later.’
‘So you haven’t said anything to her then?’ asked Speech.
Rico came back quickly. ‘Of course not. I said I wouldn’t.’
‘She’s a good woman,’ said Speech. ‘She deserves the best. Don’t you
think so?’
‘Of course, that’s why I’m going to make a wicked site for her,’ said
Rico. ‘Keep walking. I got a bus to catch. Work to do.’
‘No. This is as far as I go. So everything’s all right then?’
‘Yes, everything’s all right,’ said Rico, now a little tired of the questions.
‘Great. I’ll see you soon.’
Speech turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

On the bus Rico sat comfortably at the back on the top deck. His phone
rang. It was his mother asking if he was on his way home. Rico told her that
he would be back soon. He folded his arms, leaned against the window and
began to doze. He was very tired, but he wasn’t worried he would miss his
stop: he had dozed many times on this route and because he knew the route
so well he always woke up just before his stop. He started to think about
Karima. He was upset with her behaviour in the riots, but he was missing
her. He made up his mind that he would go to her house to find out where
she was being held, and then visit her. Then he began to think about his
sister, Lola. He was still able to hear the sound of the bus and the
passengers around him, but he was relaxed enough to drift into a dreamlike
state, recalling happy memories of his big sister playing with him in their
garden or the local park. When she was small, Lola had liked to carve
shapes into trees using sharp stones, so Rico had given her the nickname
Woodpecker. He recalled the time she had spent teaching him how to ride
his bicycle, and how when they were older Lola would tell him stories of
how good overcomes evil.
Rico was very close to his sister, but his parents didn’t talk to him about
why she had left home so suddenly. He really missed her.
 Rico jumped up just before the bus reached his stop. He ran down the
stairs, off the bus, and didn’t stop running until he reached his home, where
his dinner was on the table. Rico wanted to take his plate and go up to his
room, but his mother wasn’t having it.
‘No,’ she said. ‘We’ve hardly seen you lately, up there on your
computers. They can wait. Sit down and eat.’
‘OK,’ said Rico.
The atmosphere during the meal was upbeat and happy, with Lena doing
most of the talking. She was always full of stories about characters that she
encountered at the hospital. All was going well until Rico brought up the
subject that was really on his mind.
‘Have you heard from Lola?’
There was an awkward silence at the table. Stefan spoke first.
‘If she’d got in contact with us, we would have told you, wouldn’t we?’
Lena continued. ‘We were wondering if she’d been in contact with you.’
‘I told you before,’ said Rico. ‘I haven’t got her number.’
‘And nor have we,’ said Lena. ‘She calls sometimes, but unless she
contacts one of us, we can’t contact her. It’s as simple as that.’
‘Don’t you want to talk to her?’ asked Rico.
Lena dropped her knife and fork onto her plate in anger.
‘Of course we want to talk to her. She left us, we didn’t kick her out. You
still have this idea that we’re the bad people, but she’s the one who decided
to go, and she’s the one who’s decided not to stay in contact. So don’t
blame us, Rico.’
‘I’m not blaming you,’ said Rico softly.
‘Good,’ said Lena.
‘OK. Enjoy your meal,’ said Stefan.
Rico continued to eat, but he didn’t enjoy his meal.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 8

Friends Reunited?

Rico had been working late into the night, so when he was woken early in
the morning by the noise his parents were making getting up, he tried to
ignore them. They were leaving for their weekly shop at the supermarket.
He listened as the car drove away and then he curled up to try to sleep some
more. He tried, but he couldn’t. He was physically tired, but his mind began
working overtime. He worked best at night, and he was planning to work
hard that night too, so he needed the night more than he needed the day. He
kept telling himself to go to sleep, but the more he told himself, the harder it
was to sleep. He eventually began to drift off, but then his phone rang. He
reached over, and picked it up, putting the phone to his ear without opening
his eyes.
‘Hello. Who is it?’ he groaned.
The voice on the phone was upbeat and wide awake.
‘What’s going on, brov? Long time.’
It was Karima. Rico was surprised to hear her.
‘Where are you? he asked.
‘I’m out.’
‘You’re out already?’ Rico said. ‘I was thinking of coming to see you but
I’ve been busy, and I didn’t know where you were.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Just done a few weeks. Good behaviour, you know
what I’m saying?’
‘I know what you’re saying, but I don’t believe you.’
‘What do you mean, you don’t believe me?’ asked Karima.
‘You can’t do good behaviour,’ Rico replied.
Karima laughed. ‘I can, you know – well, I can make people believe I’m
doing good behaviour. Anyway, I’m out now and I wanna see you.
Important stuff, you get me?’
‘No problem,’ said Rico. ‘Give me a call tomorrow or something. Come
round in the afternoon, maybe.’
‘Tomorrow! I’m talking about today, brov. What you doing now?’
‘I’m in bed.’
‘Get up. I’m coming now.’
Rico groaned. ‘Oh, what? I wanted to lie in. I’m tired.’
‘What you been doing?’ asked Karima.
‘Nothing,’ replied Rico.
‘Well. Get up. Let’s talk about doing something. I’m coming over.’

Rico reluctantly dragged himself out of bed, to the bathroom, to the kitchen
and to the living room, where he waited for Karima. It wasn’t long before
she turned up. She rang the bell and knocked on the door at the same time.
Rico jumped up and ran to the door.
‘What’s your problem?’ he said.
‘Thought you might still be in bed. How you going?’
‘I was OK until someone got me out of bed.’
‘Be cool,’ said Karima. ‘It’s all good.’
‘What’s good?’ asked Rico.
‘It’s all good,’ said Karima. She saw that Rico wasn’t in the best of
moods, so she tried another approach.
‘Hey, so you not pleased to see me?’
‘Yes. I just wanted to rest today,’ replied Rico.
‘You got anything to eat?’
‘Of course I haven’t got anything to eat. I told you, I just got out of bed.’
He paused, smiled, and said, ‘We got cake. Sit down.’
They both sat down and they began to drink fruit juice and eat cake.
Karima ate as if she was starving, but she didn’t let it stop her from
speaking.
‘So, what did you get?’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Rico.
‘What did you get at court?’
‘I didn’t get anything. I didn’t do anything, they didn’t see anything, so
they let me go from the station.’
‘You’re lucky.’
 ‘No, I’m not lucky,’ said Rico. ‘I didn’t do anything – you mean I was
unlucky for being arrested in the first place.’
Karima wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and leaned back into
the seat.
‘Were you still in the police station when it got firebombed?’ she asked.
‘I was out by then, but I saw it,’ replied Rico. ‘Do you know who did it?’
‘No,’ said Karima. ‘But whoever did it did a rubbish job. I hate the cops,
I hate the whole system. They mess up our lives and when we react they
lock us up.’
‘Well, you did go robbing shops,’ said Rico, reminding her of the fact
that she had chosen to go ‘shopping’.
‘That’s not robbing,’ said Karima. ‘We were just reclaiming stuff. They
got me and my crew locked away in a Young Offenders’ Unit, they messed
with you – so here’s what we gonna do. Revenge. We got a plan. We got an
amazing network of people on our phones, they’re angry, brov, so we’re
gonna do August all over again. This time it’s gonna kick off here in
Birmingham. We got north, south, east and west Birmingham covered, so
when the city’s burning then the rest of the country will kick off. Yes, brov,
the last riot is going to look like a street party. This time we’re gonna do
real extreme shopping, you get me?’
‘I get you,’ Rico replied. ‘But you ain’t got me. What you doing that for?
That ain’t going to do anything. You’ll end up where you just came from.’
Karima became even more animated.
‘Look what they done to us, we can’t let them get away with it. If we hit
them back we can inspire others, and all over the country people will rise
up, rob the rich and start burning up cops. It just takes someone to start it
and then others will follow. Let’s do this.’
‘I’m not doing this,’ said Rico. ‘Trust me, it don’t make sense.’
‘So what you going to do? Nothing?’
Rico stayed silent, so Karima continued.
‘You can’t do nothing. These people have been provoking us, watching
us and searching us for so long. Wake up, brov. Even you said you’re sick
of being stopped all the time. The riots sent a message to them, but we got
to keep the momentum up, we got to let them know what time it is.’
‘It’s time for me to go back to bed,’ said Rico quite seriously.
‘Is that all you have to say?’
 ‘That’s all I have to say. No – there’s something else I have to say. Don’t
do it. Smashing a few shops and getting some new clothes is nothing, it’s
not going to change the world, and, anyway, you can do better than that.’

Rico was not interested in Karima’s plan. He never would have been
interested in it. Rico hated violence and Karima knew this. The only reason
Karima thought he might be interested was because she thought he would
be as angry as she was. He was, but he believed in changing the world by
non-violent means.
‘Are you scared?’ asked Karima.
‘Of course not. I’m not scared of anything. It’s just a waste of time. You
go on the streets, cause a few fires, break a few windows, nick a few jeans,
and you think you’re bad. If you really wanna be bad you’d do something
that really makes a difference, not just something that gets you locked up
again.’
The expression on Karima’s face went from intense concentration to a
bright smile.
‘You really missed me, didn’t you? And you really care about me, don’t
you?
‘Well …’
Before Rico could continue Karima threw her arms open.
‘Come on. Give me a hug.’
Rico stepped over and put his arms around her. As they hugged, Karima
spoke in his ear.
‘Sometimes you make me think, you know. But, you know, I got my
style, you got yours.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ replied Rico.
‘Do you remember the last time I was here?’ asked Karima.
‘Yes.’
‘You got me when I wasn’t on form. I’m ready for you now.’
Rico pulled away and went to a corner of the room where he connected a
computer game console to the television. They played computer games for
two hours. This time Karima was victorious. When the games were over
she left, but before she did she checked up on Rico.
‘Are you good?’
‘I’m good,’ he replied.
 ‘No, I mean, you’re not going to say anything, are you?
‘What you saying, you can’t trust me? No,’ Rico said defensively. ‘I’m
not going to say anything, but I still think you should just stay cool and be
careful. They’re going to be watching you. You got a police record now,
and I don’t want to see you back inside. That’s all I’m saying.’
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 9

Like Father, Like Son?

Thunder roared and echoed and lightning lit up the night, but neither the
activities in the sky, nor the rain that was falling heavily outside disturbed
Rico as he worked late into the night. He was now running all four of his
computers, and he was getting close to completing the website job.
Aware of what his mother had said about not seeing him much, he
decided to take a break and join his parents in the living room. It was
Sunday night, his parents would normally be watching television together,
but when he entered the room the television was on and Stefan was reading
a newspaper on his own.
‘Where’s Mum?’ asked Rico.
‘She’s gone to bed. She’s so tired lately. Every time she stopped moving
today she fell asleep. She works too hard.’
‘I know,’ said Rico, sitting down and picking up the TV remote control.
‘Is there anything good on?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t been watching it.’
Rico started flicking through the channels. He liked watching TV
documentaries, but tonight there weren’t any, none that weren’t repeats that
he’d already seen. Sunday night television was safe family viewing, films,
game shows and talent contests. After he surfed through all the fifty-two
Freeview channels he decided to watch BBC world news. He focused on
the television, concentrating and trying to understand as much as he could
of the issues of the day. It was more of the same. People demonstrating in
New York against the shooting of an unarmed young man by vigilantes,
women demonstrating for equality in Saudi Arabia, and the aboriginal
people of Australia demanding better job opportunities. What really caught
Rico’s attention was a report that was closer to home. The government was
considering passing a new law that meant that all the public’s digital
communications would be stored and made available to the government or
the security agencies. Rico stopped listening to the programme and got lost
in thought. He was instinctively against anyone storing his information; for
him the Internet represented a space where information and ideas flowed
freely, and things were only saved or shared when the creator of the content
had chosen to do so.
‘I’m just reading about that,’ said Stefan. The government wants to know
everything about you. It’s not good enough for them just to have a copy of
your birth certificate, now they actually want a bit of your blood.’
‘It’s your DNA, Dad.’
‘I know. It’s the same thing. They got your DNA already.’
‘I know,’ said Rico. ‘The first time I got arrested they took it. They said
they would destroy it but how do I know they will?’
‘They’re always watching you, always listening to you, and always
taking your money. There’s no freedom.’
Rico turned the television off and sank even deeper into thought. Stefan
folded his newspaper and placed it on his lap.
‘You know what we need,’ said Stefan. ‘A workers’ revolution. The
working class should rise up, the unions should unite, and we should just
take over. We need mass strikes all over the country – the ruling class can’t
rule without us, so we should put down our tools and take to the streets.’
‘That’s so old,’ said Rico. ‘The workers hardly have tools any more. It
should be like, put down your laptops, or put down your smartphones. And
as for taking to the streets, look, I go on demonstrations all the time –
they’re important, but I know they hardly get noticed by those in power.
They just stop the traffic for a while and then people go back to their jobs
and get on with their lives. The new way should be cyber.’
Stefan pointed to Rico. ‘Well, you know more about that cyber stuff than
me. All I know is that something has to change, and if you look at history,
change has only happened when people have taken to the streets. You were
on the streets just last week.’
‘Yes,’ said Rico. ‘There were thousands of us, but I’m beginning to
wonder what it changes. I’m fed up of pounding the streets, and speeches
about the workers, the people and the unions. We’ve got to find another
way.’
 ‘I agree,’ said Stefan. ‘I’m just not sure if you’re going to find it up there
on your keyboard.’
They both stayed quiet for a while, as if they were contemplating each
other’s point of view. Then out of the blue, Stefan said, ‘Just over a week
and it’s back to school then. Are you looking forward to it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. What’s so strange about that?’
‘Nothing. I just thought you might want a longer holiday.’
‘I’ve got work to do, but I’m actually missing school a bit. There’s loads
of friends I haven’t seen for a while.’
‘Talking about your friends,’ Stefan said, ‘how’s your friend Karima
now?’
‘She’s OK,’ said Rico.
‘Good. I like her.’
‘Why do you like her so much?’ asked Rico.
‘She’s an individual, she’s different, and you suit each other,’ said Stefan,
smiling.
Rico sat up swiftly. ‘Are you kidding? We’re good friends, but not like
that.’
‘I know,’ replied Stefan. ‘I just really like her.’

Rico and his dad talked a lot that night. It was the first time they had talked
so long for months. By the time Rico got to his room he was thinking about
government DNA storage, how to change the world, the purpose of school,
and the state of his mother’s health. He had so much on his mind that he
just went to bed and slept on it all.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 10

Job Done. Now What?

After Rico had finished the website, he celebrated by going to Telford’s,

where he worked, and buying himself the biggest external hard drive on the
market and some other computer accessories. When he arrived in the shop
Ana was on her phone talking to a friend about her birthday plans. It was all
about going to a club on Broad Street and dancing into the early hours of
the morning. As she spoke Rico smiled, and she smiled back, thinking that
Rico was impressed by her party plans – but Rico was smiling because he
was thinking of how her birthday was going to be better for reasons other
than partying.
After Rico had bought his goods, Mr Telford called him into his office.
‘A few more jobs have come in for you. Can you take a look at them
before you go and tell me if you can fix them when you’re in on Saturday?’
‘No problem,’ replied Rico enthusiastically. ‘If I can’t do them all on
Saturday and they’re not too big I can take some home and do them there.’
Mr Telford smiled. ‘I tell you what, lad; you’re busier than me. If you
carry on like this you’ll be buying me out. This place will mainly be a
computer repair shop, and I’ll just sell a few bits and pieces in the corner.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I thought you said you’ve always wanted to have your own computer
business?’
‘I do.’
‘Well, you’ve already got the business; all you need is premises, and if I
retire there might be a chance of you taking over here.’
Rico almost jumped with delight. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course I am,’ said Mr Telford. ‘But that’s a long way off yet. I’ve still
got some life left in me, and you’ve still got to finish school. Now go and
take a look at those jobs on your workbench.’

Rico checked the jobs that had been left for him – they were all small ones
that could be done on Saturday. He said goodbye to Mr Telford and Ana
and began to walk towards the bus stop, but just thirty seconds into his walk
he was joined by Speech.
‘Can you stop a minute?’ asked Speech.
Rico looked at Speech and straight away he noticed that there was
something wrong.
‘What’s up?’ asked Rico.
‘I’ve got a bit of a problem. How’s the website?
‘It’s done,’ said Rico.
‘Great. You haven’t said anything to her, have you?’
‘Hey, man. I told you I wouldn’t. Do you wanna see it?’
‘Yes,’ said Speech, but he didn’t sound as enthusiastic as Rico had
expected.
‘OK then, put this web address in your phone.’
Speech shouted, ‘I told you, I don’t have a phone!’
‘OK,’ said Rico. ‘Give me a pen and paper.’
Speech handed Rico a small notebook with a pencil attached to it. Rico
wrote down the address and handed it back.
‘If you log onto that web address and use that password you can see the
site. Only you can see it now, it hasn’t gone live yet.’
‘Thanks,’ said Speech, with his head bowed.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Rico, who was now beginning to get really
concerned.
‘I was driving here, and I think I got flashed by a speed camera.’
Rico laughed. ‘A speed camera. It’s not that bad. It’s not the end of the
world.’
‘You don’t understand,’ said Speech, with his head still low. ‘I’ve already
got nine points. You get three points for speeding, but if I get another three
I’ll get banned, and I really can’t afford to get banned. My family rely on
me. I need to drive.’
‘Just wait and see.’
‘I can’t wait and see,’ said Speech. ‘I can’t bear the waiting.’
‘But there’s nothing else you can do.’
 Speech thought for a moment. Then he raised his head and looked at
Rico. ‘There’s something we can do, man. You can help me.’
‘How can I help you?’ asked Rico.
Speech looked seriously at Rico. ‘The speed cameras are run by the
Fixed Penalty Office. I don’t know if the camera caught me for sure, so I
want you to just hack into their systems and see if I’m on their list.’
‘No way,’ said Rico. ‘I’m sure that’s illegal or something.’
‘Look. This is really important to me. I’ve got sick relatives up north that
I have to look after, I’m the only one in my family in Birmingham who
drives, and I’ve got young kids to look after. I’m not asking you do
anything like mess about with stuff. Just go and see if my car registration is
on their lists of fines pending. Just let me know and I’ll think about what to
do next.’ Speech took a roll of money from his pocket. ‘Here’s £300. That’s
how badly I need this, and I know you can do it.’
Rico looked at the money, then he looked at Speech. ‘I’ll try, but if I get
in I’m not going to do anything. I’m just going to have a look.’
‘That’s cool,’ said Speech, taking out his notebook again. He wrote down
the car registration number, ripped out the page and handed it to Rico.
‘That’s the car reg. Just take a look for me. And here’s your money.’
‘No,’ said Rico. ‘I’m not doing this for your money. I guess I’m doing it
for your family.’
‘Good man,’ said Speech. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll find you in a couple of
days.’
‘How?’
‘I’ll just find you,’ Speech said, walking away.

That night Rico checked the website he had made for Ana and he could see
by an internal counter that he had installed that Speech had visited the site.
When he knew that his parents had settled down to watch TV, Rico went
onto the Fixed Penalty Office website and started to look for weaknesses in
their security. It didn’t take him long to get into the main servers, and then
to generate passwords to get him deeper into restricted areas and to view
pending speeding fines. He looked manually for Speech’s car registration
number but he could not find it. Then he searched for it using his own
software, but he still could not find it. Convinced that the car had not been
flashed, Rico left the site, covered his tracks, and went to sleep.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 11

A Change of Mind

‘Rico. Rico.’
Rico turned over in his bed.
‘Rico. Rico.’
Rico turned over again. He knew that his parents had left for work, so
this had to be a voice in his head. Or a character in his dream.
‘Rico. Rico. Wake up, brov – I’ll ring the bell if you don’t.’
Rico sat up in his bed.
‘Rico. Come to the window.’
It was only then that Rico realised that the voice was coming from the
street outside, and that it was Karima. He got up. Wrapping himself in his
duvet he went over and opened the window and shouted down as quietly as
he could.
‘What’s up with you? It’s so early. What time is it, anyway?’
‘Almost nine,’ Karima shouted.
‘What you doing here so early?’
‘Hey, brov,’ Karima said, trying to sound reasonable. ‘You think it’s early
cause you’ve been snoring for a few hours, and I think it’s late because I’ve
been having fun all night. Anyway. I got a problem. Games console. Been
on it all night, then it just crashed.’
‘So what do you want me to do?’
‘Fix it, brov. Do that rebooting, rejigging, reprogramming thing you do
and make it all right for your sister.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ Rico sighed. ‘I’m coming down.’

Rico opened the front door still wrapped in the duvet. Trying to hold it all
together with one hand, he reached out with the other.
 ‘Give it to me. I’ll have a look at it later.’
‘Can’t you check it now?’
‘No way. Don’t you get it? I’m sleeping.’
‘Are you pleased to see me?’
‘Yes, but go away. I’m tired.’
‘Can I come in then?’
‘No.’
‘Have you got any cake?’
‘No, I’ve got no cake, and I just said, I’m tired, now go away.’
‘No problem,’ Karima said, as if conceding. ‘Do you think you can fix it
for this afternoon?’ She grinned.
‘I’ll try,’ said Rico. ‘If it’s a straightforward crash it shouldn’t be a
problem.’
‘I’ll call you later then,’ said Karima as she turned and began to walk
away, but Rico called her back.
‘Hey!’
‘What’s up?’
‘So what’s happening with you and your burning-up-the-city plan?’
Karima laughed.
‘So, what’s happening?’ Rico insisted.
‘Nothing, brov. I listened to you, didn’t I. Like you said, they got me
marked already, and I don’t wanna spend more time inside. I wanna be free,
out here, with you. It’s like a life-change thing, you get me? So never mind
the negativity, let’s play games and eat cake.’
Rico smiled. He was relieved that Karima had changed her mind, and
impressed with her attitude, but frustrated that he couldn’t tell her about his
latest creative adventures, and about how much money he was making. He
felt that he had to keep his side of the bargain with Speech and tell nobody,
not even his closest friend. Rico could trust Karima with his money, his
property, or to be there when he needed her, but he could not trust her with
information. She just got too excited and talked too much.
‘It’s all good then,’ said Rico.
‘Yeah. It’s all good. See you later,’ Karima said before strutting off down
the street as if she owned it.
Rico crept back into bed but as soon as he woke up he got to work on
Karima’s game console. He felt personal pride knowing that he had made
her change her mind about trying to start another round of riots. He was
sure that if she did she would simply have ended up spending a lot more
time locked up. Working on the console was a welcome break from the
more serious work he had been doing, but it didn’t last for long. It was an
easy job, a simple case of reinstalling the programme. That evening,
Karima came back to pick up her games console. It was now working
perfectly.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 12

The Real Deal

Rico did some small jobs for neighbours over the next couple of days, but
he tried to take it easy and prepare mentally to go back to school. He went
to work in the shop that Saturday, then after work, as he was walking to the
bus stop, Speech appeared in the very same place he had done before. This
time he looked like he was back to his normal self.
‘I had a look at Ana’s website. You’ve done a great job on it,’ said
Speech. ‘She’s going to love it.’
‘When’s her birthday?’ Rico asked.
‘In six days. We’re almost there. So well done and thanks.’
‘No problem. I got her a great domain name and I’ve come up with a few
tricks to make the site easy to find on search engines. Another thing. I
checked your car and it’s not on there. I checked all the cars flashed by
cameras in the last six months, and your car’s not there. So you have
nothing to worry about.’
‘Thanks, man,’ said Speech, relieved. ‘That’s really taken a load off me.
You’re a good kid. Look, I really need to talk to you.’
‘You’re talking to me now,’ said Rico.
Speech took a step closer to Rico. ‘No. This is real talk.’
‘What is it with you?’ Rico said, stepping away. ‘You just appear out of
nowhere and you always want to talk to me. What do you want now?’
‘Do you remember the subway where we spoke the first time we met?’
‘Yes,’ replied Rico.
‘Let’s meet there in twenty minutes,’ said Speech.
‘What’s wrong with just talking here?’
‘Trust me. We can’t talk about what I want to talk about here. This is big.
Very big.’
 ‘I don’t know about big. It better be good,’ said Rico. ‘I’ll see you there
in twenty minutes.’

Speech walked off in one direction, Rico walked off in another. The subway
wasn’t far. At normal walking speed he would have reached it in ten
minutes, so he took his time, and he still arrived before Speech. He waited,
and Speech turned up ten minutes late. Speech’s mood had changed again.
This time he was serious. No smiles, no greetings, he just started talking.
‘You’re good at what you do. You care about stuff. You got locked up
during the riots, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but not for long. They had nothing on me.’
‘That doesn’t stop them. They got you on their books, they got your
DNA, they got you, man,’ said Speech.
‘I know all that stuff. Big Brother and all that. It’s happening, I know, but
there’s nothing we can do. If they’re watching us, we just have to make sure
we’re watching them.’
Speech nodded his head in agreement. ‘You’re damn smart, man. That’s
why I like you. You know what’s going on. You got awareness, and you’ve
raised your consciousness. A lot of kids your age haven’t. You’re
intelligent, but you’re a bit soft.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘Are you a revolutionary?’ Speech asked.
‘What kind of question is that?’ Rico replied.
‘It’s a simple question. Are you a revolutionary? Do you want to change
stuff?’
‘You can call me what you want but, yeah, I want to change stuff.’
Speech kept his eyes on Rico.
‘So tell me, what do you want to change?’
‘There’s so much,’ Rico replied. ‘Where do I start? Our school is falling
down. I’d do something about that. How do they expect us to have a good
education if the buildings are falling apart? Every other week my mum has
to do more work for less pay – I’d do something about that. I keep getting
stopped by the police, and I want to do something about that. I turn on the
TV and all I see is war. I know we can’t stop all wars but we can stop
selling guns all over the world. I’d change the way old people are treated.
I’d change the way we treat homeless people, refugees … you know, poor
people. And most of all I would make sure young people have a say.
There’s so much.’
Speech interrupted. ‘But this is all talk, isn’t it? You say all this stuff, but
if it came down to really doing something about it you’d run a mile,
because you don’t know what you’re really talking about, do you?’
‘That’s not true, man. I care about stuff but no one else does. Especially
not kids of my age.’ Rico was getting angry now.
Speech looked deep into Rico’s eyes. ‘I might not be your age, but I
care,’ he said. ‘And the truth is, I know you do too – that’s why I’m talking
to you now. Because you’re talented.’
‘Get to the point,’ said Rico.
Speech continued. ‘The cops have been doing what they want to do and
getting away with it for years. It doesn’t matter which government is in
power, it’s all the same. That’s because all politicians are the same. The best
government is no government; the best system is no system.’
‘Come on, man,’ Rico said, showing his frustration. ‘I said, get to the
point. I thought you wanted me to do something for you?’
‘I do,’ said Speech. ‘Do you know Lloyd House?’
Rico thought for a while. It sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn’t
recall it. ‘No.’
‘It’s on Colmore Circus. Not far from here.’
‘Of course,’ said Rico. ‘The police headquarters.’
‘That’s right, man. The headquarters of the West Midlands Police Force.
The second largest force in the country. That’s where they live. That’s
where they plot and scheme. That’s where they launch their operations.
How about you hack into their computers?’
Rico stiffened and shouted, ‘Are you joking?’
‘Keep your voice down,’ said Speech.
‘You want me to hack into the police network?’ Rico said, trying to
control his disbelief.
‘Ah, are you saying you can’t do it?’ There was a hint of excitement in
Speech’s voice. His eyes had lit up. ‘Think about it, man, it’s the ultimate
protest. Almost anyone can hack into a supermarket, or an estate agent, but
this goes right to the people who administer power over us. This goes right
to the people who keep stopping and searching you as you go about your
lawful business. You can do this. I know that they have a backup system –
they’ll spend about ten minutes trying to fix the old system, and if that
doesn’t work they turn on the backup. So it will be down for ten minutes at
the most. But it’s not about the time; the point is, they’ll lose power for a
while. And for the time that they lose control, we are victorious. It’s easy.’
‘This is madness,’ said Rico. ‘I don’t even know you, and look at the
things I’ve done for you already.’
‘Yes, and I’m grateful. But this is not for me.’
‘Who’s it for then?’
‘This is for all of us,’ Speech said, waving his hand to the horizon. ‘This
will be part of a day of protest that many people have been planning for
months.’
‘How come I haven’t heard about it?’
‘Because it’s an underground thing. It’s not being advertised. This is not a
student demo. This is going to be a national day of action by really radical
organisations.’
‘So what else is going to happen?’ asked Rico.
‘We got people hacking into banks, politicians’ websites, loan sharks,
even an arms dealer’s website. It’s all righteous stuff.’
‘So what do you want me to do?’ said Rico, still uncertain.
‘You just have to put their systems down for ten minutes, man. You don’t
have to change anything; you don’t have to take anything. You’re just
putting them out of action for ten minutes. I know you can do it.’
‘Of course I can do it,’ said Rico. ‘But do I want to do it?’
‘Just ten minutes. Come on, man. That’s all it takes,’ Speech said, trying
to reassure Rico.
Rico looked around. He stepped away, rubbing his chin and thinking
hard. He thought about all the times he had been stopped by the police for
no reason. Then he turned to Speech. ‘OK. I’ll take it down for ten minutes,
but that’s all I’m doing.’
‘Great,’ said Speech, smiling and nodding his head. ‘I got information
and codes for their website and their internal site – they run on separate
systems. Just think of it, cops running around like headless chickens for ten
minutes. It will be cool.’
‘How long have I got?’ Rico asked.
‘We need to do it on Monday.’
‘Monday!’ shouted Rico.
 ‘Keep it down,’ said Speech. ‘Yes, Monday.’
‘But I start school on Monday. Now it’s Saturday. That gives me one
day.’
‘How long will it take you to check it out and see what’s possible?’
‘I suppose I could do that tonight,’ said Rico.
‘Well, you do that, and then meet me here at this time tomorrow. If all
goes well we should be ready for Monday.’
Speech reached into his jacket pocket and handed Rico a memory stick.
‘All the information you’ll need is on that. I’ve done as much as I can but
I need you to just crack the last stage. You’ll see what I mean once you have
a look, but make sure you keep that stick with you at all times, and make
sure you give it back to me. And one last thing. Don’t say a word to anyone,
not even your closest friend. She’s a great girl but we need to keep it tight.’
‘How do you know about her?’
‘I’m an organiser, Rico,’ said Speech. ‘I have to know about everything.
Just be really careful around her. She can’t control her tongue.’
‘Don’t worry, man. If you know so much, you’ll know that I can control
mine,’ said Rico.
Speech reached out and put his hand on Rico’s shoulder. Rico felt
uncomfortable but didn’t flinch or move away. Speech squeezed and said,
‘Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 13

A Protest Like No Other

Rico went home and got to work straight away. His hacking technique was
quick, and his work method well tested. It was now just a matter of
breaking a few codes, breaching firewalls and working around security
systems, and that didn’t take long. Rico got in, and got out quickly. Then he
got to work on some ideas that would make the hack more creative.

The next day at the appointed time Rico went back to the subway to meet
Speech, who turned up ten minutes late again. Again he began to speak
without saying hello.
‘So what you got for me?’
‘I’m all ready. I went onto the network and checked it out. They got good
up-to-date security, but I can deal with that. We sell that stuff in our shop.’
‘So at a given time it will just go down, will it?’ asked Speech.
‘No,’ said Rico. ‘I thought I’d jazz it up a bit. There’ll be this big peace
sign that will come up on the public website for about ten seconds, and then
the site goes down. As soon as it goes down, the internal network gets hit.
First a page comes up with a big sunflower for five seconds, and then big
words appear saying, “You’re under arrest”. And then that network goes
down.’
Speech rocked with excitement.
‘Oh man, you’re having a laugh. That’s so cool. I like that, I really like
that.’
Rico continued. ‘They should both be down for ten minutes, then ping,
up pops a laughing policeman for five seconds, and everything’s back to
normal.’
Speech’s excitement rose even more.
 ‘A laughing policeman? Are you for real?’
Rico broke a sly smile. ‘I thought we should have some fun.’
‘Too right,’ said Speech. ‘Fun. Militant fun. Yeah man, that’s what we
need. Have you got my memory stick?’
‘Right here,’ said Rico, dipping into his pocket and handing the stick
over.
‘This is going to be good,’ said Speech. ‘We’re making history.’
‘It might be good,’ replied Rico. ‘But I’m not so sure about making
history. Sites are being hacked all the time.’
‘Trust me,’ said Speech seriously. ‘It is good, and you are making
history.’
Although Speech was a little strange, and Rico wasn’t as excited as
Speech, Rico was beginning to feel that the idea of doing a peaceful,
humorous cyber protest was a great one, and he was now very pleased that
Speech had approached him. His previous hackings had been minor ones –
solemn, lone experiences – but now he was part of something bigger.
‘We’re ready to go tomorrow,’ said Speech.
‘I just don’t get it. I haven’t heard about any cyber protest, and I usually
know about these things,’ said Rico.
‘I told you,’ said Speech. ‘This is real underground stuff, and you’re a
part of it. This isn’t organised by a trade union, you know, there are no
posters on the streets. This doesn’t happen until it happens. And it happens
at one o’clock.’
Rico stepped back and flung open his arms. ‘What kind of time is that?
I’ll be in school then, and it’s our first day back.’
‘You don’t have to be. Just slip out during your lunch break. You can do
that, can’t you?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Rico. ‘But I could also stay in school and just
programme it so that it comes on at one without me.’
Speech thought for a couple of seconds and then spoke. ‘No. I think you
should be there, just to make sure. And the timing has to be exact. One on
the dot. You can do that for me, can’t you, man?’
‘I can do that for you, man,’ said Rico. ‘It’s just weird timing. What kind
of protest happens in the middle of the day, when everyone’s at work – or
school?’
 ‘Like I said,’ replied Speech, ‘this is a protest like no other. It will be
cool.’
‘But I need to get back to school quickly,’ said Rico.
‘That’s OK. Your lunchtime starts at twelve-thirty, it takes you about
fifteen minutes to get home. You got time to relax, take it easy, and do your
thing at one, then you got fifteen minutes to get back. Just don’t stop and
talk to anyone and you will make it in plenty of time. There will be a lot
going on. Who knows, you may even get the afternoon off school.’
‘What? Are you hacking the school or something?’
‘Let’s just say – all you need to do is concentrate on what you’re doing.’
‘OK. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll hack in, that will take a couple of seconds,
and then I’ll leave. Their website and Intranet will go down for ten minutes,
but I’ll just go back to school. The hack closes itself down anyway.’
‘That’s what we need to hear. How much money do I owe you?’
Rico was quick to reply. ‘This is not about money. This is about us. I
don’t want any money. Just send some work my way when you can.’
‘Cool,’ said Speech. ‘So we’re on for tomorrow then?’
‘We’re on.’
‘Good luck, my man,’ said Speech, and then he was gone.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 14

Best Laid Plans?

The first day of the new term started awkwardly. Mr Donavan, the head
teacher, spent fifteen minutes addressing the school and talking about the
evil people who went on the rampage over the holidays trying to bring
society down. Without naming names he mentioned that he had heard that
some of them were from this school, but he assured everybody assembled
that there would be no riotous behaviour in this school. Then it was off to
class and soon it was as if the holidays had never happened, and it was
lunchtime.
As planned, Rico left school as soon as the lunch break began. When he
got home his mother had just left to start her shift at work. There was still
hot water in the kettle. He had reached home with enough time to make a
sandwich and a cup of tea, and then he went upstairs. He had left everything
on standby so had very little to do. He waited until it was one minute to
one, then he typed in some code, and at one second to one he clicked on the
mouse and watched it happen.
Peace sign.
Site down.
Sunflower.
Message: YOU’RE UNDER ARREST.
Intranet network down.
He smiled. He wanted to stay to see the laughing policeman, but he had
to go. Then the doorbell rang. Rico began to panic.
‘Speech,’ Rico said aloud. ‘It better not be him.’
He thought that maybe Speech had done the ultimate surprise appearance
act, appearing at his home. He thought of looking out of the window, but he
ran downstairs instead; he was heading that way anyway. He opened the
door, convinced it would be Speech, but it was Karima. Rico sighed in
relief, and then surprise.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said. ‘Why did you leave school? I was
worried about you, brov. Thought something was wrong.’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ said Rico. ‘I just had something to do. But it’s good
to know that you cared. Let’s go.’
They rushed off back to school and as they parted to go to their classes
they made a plan to meet that evening with some other friends and hang out
on the streets. Rico thought that by then people would have heard about the
various sites going down, or maybe the school site would have gone down
too.

The school site didn’t go down. Everything was quite normal, until the last
lesson of the day. Rico was sitting at the back of the English class when Mr
Donavan came in and spoke to Mrs Dovric, the English teacher. Mr
Donavan used his hand to shield any words from straying in the direction of
the pupils, but from the teachers’ expressions it was easy to see that
whatever they were talking about was serious. Mr Donavan then turned to
the class, looked around and called Michelle Holland out. She was a quiet,
blonde girl who nobody knew much about. She stood up and walked to the
front of the room.
‘Now, class,’ said Mrs Dovric. ‘I need to leave you alone for a few
minutes. Read the passage we were just looking at and find as many
punctuation mistakes as you can. I’ll be back in a moment.’
All three left the room and for a moment there was silence, but then the
class started to chatter. Most were wondering what Michelle Holland could
have done that was wrong. She was such a good girl. Some started to make
jokes saying that maybe she was a bad girl after all; they began to make fun
of her. Rico just watched and listened.

Mrs Dovric returned, looking upset, but went straight back to her teaching
as if nothing had happened. But one pupil shouted, ‘Is she in trouble, Miss?
What has she done?’
‘Never you mind,’ Mrs Dovric replied. ‘Michelle has had some very bad
news, so remember, be nice to her. Now let’s get back to work. We do
English here, not gossip.’
By home time, word began to spread around the school. As he walked
towards the gate Rico overheard one girl saying to another, ‘Did you hear
about Michelle Holland? A bomb went off at the big police station in town
and her dad was in there. He died. It’s a shame, isn’t it?’
Rico was shocked by what he had heard. He marched quickly to the girl
and began to ask questions.
‘What happened?’
‘A bomb went off at that police headquarters place at lunchtime. Lots of
people got killed. Michelle Holland’s dad got killed.’
Rico’s head started to heat up. ‘Are you sure?’ He nervously bit on his
bottom lip.
The girl spoke hurriedly. ‘Everyone’s talking about it. It’s on the Internet
and everything. Her mum came and took her out of school. I saw them both
crying their eyes out, getting into a police car.’
‘Thanks,’ said Rico, walking away and going to a corner of the
playground where he could be alone. He was trying to process what he had
heard. A bomb, the hack: could there be a connection? He heard a familiar
voice calling.
‘Rico. What you doing?’
Karima was running towards him. As soon as she got to him she put her
arm around his shoulder and continued to speak. ‘You waiting for
someone?’
‘No,’ replied Rico.
‘So, be seeing you later then?’
‘Yes. What we going to do?’ Rico asked, trying to sound interested.
‘Don’t know. Maybe we can go into town.’
‘Have you heard about the bomb in town?’ asked Rico.
‘Yes. But that will be all cleared up by tonight,’ Karima said
dismissively, but she could see that Rico was thinking deeply.
‘Hey. It wasn’t me,’ Karima said, laughing. ‘I told you I ain’t on that any
more. I’ll come round and get you later.’
Karima walked off, leaving Rico on his own. Rico turned on his phone
and began to walk home.
Rico’s house was not far from the city centre and the police headquarters.
He could hear the emergency vehicles as they tried to make their way
through the traffic. When Rico arrived on Cavendish Road the first thing he
saw was police cars, a long line of them. As he got closer he noticed they
were near his house. He turned and walked the other way. As he did so his
phone rang. It was his mother.
‘Rico. Where are you?’
‘What’s the matter, Mum?’
‘Rico, what have you done?’
‘Nothing.’
‘The police are here. They’re taking all your computers. Come home.’
Rico began to run in the opposite direction from his home. ‘I haven’t
done anything, Mum.’
‘I believe you. So come home then, son. The police are …’
Another voice came on the phone. It was a man’s voice, but it wasn’t his
dad’s.
‘Rico. Just give yourself up and we can sort this all out. We just need to
talk to you.’
Rico ended the call. It rang again. Rico looked at the caller ID; this time
it was Karima. He answered but she spoke so quickly he struggled to keep
up with her.
‘Brov. The cops are after you. Some people are saying you blew up the
cop shop. I said, no, not my Rico. They’re saying you did some computer
stuff and bombed up the place like you are some big terrorist or something.
As if. Where are you, brov?’
Rico ended the call without speaking. He took a while to breathe, and
then he turned his phone off. A bus drew up at a stop nearby. He didn’t
know where it was going, but he ran and got on it.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 15

The Deliberate Accident?

The bus arrived at a bus station and the few passengers who were left began
to get off, but Rico waited until he was the last. He had no idea where he
was until he saw a sign above the ticket office. West Bromwich Bus Station.
It was busy, mainly with local schoolchildren making their way home. Rico
was hungry. He didn’t understand what was happening – he was wanted, he
was desperate, but the people around him were carrying on as normal. He
had very little money. He thought of buying something to eat, but that
would leave him with even less money, and unless he gave himself up he
was going to need a bus fare. Then Rico had an idea. There was a trip he
had wanted to make for a long time. Maybe this was the time to make it. He
tried to avoid eye contact with anyone as he walked around the bus station.
He found a map, identified the bus he needed and got on it. When he got off
the bus he had to make his way from memory. He was too scared to ask
anyone for directions but after a few wrong turns he found the road he was
looking for. He hesitated in front of the house. It was such a long shot, but
he realised he would soon look suspicious if he continued to just stand
outside looking at the house. So he walked up and rang the bell. A woman
in her early twenties answered. Rico recognised her, and to his relief, she
recognised him straight away.
‘Rico. What a surprise. What are you doing here?’
‘Hi Kim. I need to find Lola,’ he said.
‘Why don’t you just call her?’ she said. ‘Haven’t you got her number, or
is she still not on speaking terms with the family?’
‘I’ve got no problem with her, but I don’t have her number, and I just
need to find her fast.’
Kim was a friend of Rico’s sister, Lola. She invited Rico in, but Rico
wanted to know that he wasn’t wasting his time.
‘Do you know where she is, or not?’
‘Of course I do,’ said Kim. ‘Come in.’
‘I can’t stay long,’ said Rico.
‘You can stay for as short or as long as you like,’ she said, guiding Rico
into the living room. Rico walked in and to his surprise, there was his sister
Lola, sitting on the floor eating a pizza out of a box. She jumped up and
hugged him.
‘Rico! What’s up, little brother?’
‘What are you doing here?’ Rico couldn’t believe his eyes.
‘I live here now. Decided to move in with my friend, didn’t I? She
needed some company, and we were spending most of our time together
anyway. But the real question is, what are you doing here?’
Rico looked at Kim, unsure if he should say anything, so he just said,
‘I’ve got problems.’
‘And I’ve got to go out,’ said Kim, sensing that Rico might appreciate
some time to talk to his sister alone.

When Kim left the house Lola offered Rico a piece of her pizza, then
watched as he ate the rest of it at speed. Rico told Lola everything, and
when she asked questions he answered them as honestly as he could. Until
Rico’s arrival she had not heard of the bombing. She told Rico that she and
Kim had a television set but very rarely used it. She turned it on, and almost
every station was covering the incident. They both sat down and watched in
horror as they viewed the scene of the bombing. News reporters from all
over the world were standing in front of cameras. In the background the
destroyed police headquarters could be seen, with the whole of the
reception area blown out. Firefighters had just put out what remained of the
fire, rubble was spread all over the road, and staff that had been trapped in
the building were being led out. Many of them were injured.
Lola’s jaw dropped, she shook her head, and tears ran down Rico’s face.
The police had no doubts. They told the media that they were looking for
Rico Federico, the young mastermind behind the bomb plot. He was
reported as being a computer fanatic and very anti-police. It was also said
that he had links to an Islamic group and could have been working on their
behalf. The police were desperate to find Rico and so they released a
narrative of what they believed had happened.

“From the activities recorded in his computer we can see that Rico Federico
had been spying on the police, and so he knew the exact time, each week,
when sterile equipment would be delivered by courier to the headquarters
for use by scenes of crime officers. For security reasons this equipment is
X-rayed and scanned in by bar code, but when the equipment arrived this
afternoon it could not be processed because our computers were down. We
can see from his computer records that it was Rico Federico who
compromised our computer systems. After placing the delivery on the
counter, the courier told the officer that he had to go back to his vehicle to
call his office and notify them of a possible delay. We now know that this
courier was an imposter, the real courier having been delayed by a
deliberate accident. The imposter went back to his vehicle, but drove off,
and exactly one minute later the bomb went off. Neither the imposter nor
the vehicle can be traced. This was a well-planned, professionally executed
operation. Rico Federico is a dangerous person. We believe he is still in the
Birmingham area. The public are warned not to approach him if they see
him, but to report any sighting of him to the police.”

Rico put his hands together in front of his chest as if praying. ‘I didn’t know
anything about a bomb,’ said Rico. ‘Lola, you have to believe me. Honest, I
just thought it was a game. You know, hack in, close down their site, and
have a bit of a laugh. I didn’t know anything about a bomb.’
Lola saw that his tears were real. She could see his hands shaking as he
pleaded to her. She put her arm around him. ‘I believe you.’
‘What shall I do?’ Rico asked, looking at the carpet.
‘First of all, take some time to think. Why don’t you call this Speech guy
and see what he has to say?’
‘He’s gone,’ said Rico. ‘And I haven’t even got a phone number for him.
He said he didn’t have a phone.’
‘Any idea where he lives?’
‘No.’
‘Email?’
 ‘No,’ said Rico. ‘I haven’t got anything for him. He just used to meet me
in the streets. It was like he just knew where I was all the time.’

Kim came home, hurried through the door, and went upstairs, shouting
down as she ascended.
‘Lola. Can I have a word?’
Lola ran upstairs.
‘Lola,’ Kim said anxiously. ‘I got something to tell you. It’s about your
brother.’
‘I know,’ said Lola. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘Complicated?’ Kim was shouting now. ‘Complicated? Nine people are
dead, twenty in hospital. And your brother did it!’
‘He didn’t,’ said Lola. ‘I know him. He wouldn’t do something like that.
He is my brother. Come downstairs. He’ll talk to you. He’s got nothing to
hide.’
Lola persuaded Kim to calm down and go and listen to Rico. Downstairs,
Rico retold the whole story again. It was tedious, but he wanted to make
sure he got every detail right. Kim was convinced by Rico but she was also
convinced that he should give himself up straight away.
‘It’s the most honest thing to do,’ said Kim.
‘But who’s going to believe me?’ said Rico. ‘I’ve been set up. I’ll be on
my own.’
Lola looked at Kim, then she looked at Rico.
‘You are not alone. You have us. Kim will be here tomorrow, and I’m
going to take the day off, so let’s all get some sleep and we’ll decide what
to do tomorrow.’
‘Good idea,’ said Kim. ‘My head’s hurting.’
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 16

Blood is Thicker Than Water

Rico slept on the couch but got very little sleep that night and in the
morning he had stiff shoulders, a stiff neck and a headache. Kim and Lola
weren’t feeling much better either. They had slept in their beds, but they
had also spent many hours talking about the situation they had found
themselves in. As they sat eating breakfast from plates on their laps they
compared the strength of their headaches then, for the first time, Lola asked
how her parents were.
‘They were OK the last time I saw them,’ said Rico. Then he thought
about how panicked his mother sounded the last time he heard her, and of
how confused his father would be. His head flopped down and he continued
to speak with his head bowed. ‘But I’m sure they’re not OK now. Not after
what I’ve done to them.’
‘Hey. Let’s talk about something else. Have they been bad-mouthing
me?’ Lola asked, half-smiling.
‘No. They haven’t really been talking about you at all.’
‘Good.’
‘Why is that good?’ asked Rico.
‘Because I’d rather have them not talking about me than have them bad-
mouthing me. I’ve had enough of them bad-mouthing me. Just because I
wouldn’t do what they wanted me to do.’
‘I thought you fell out with them because they didn’t turn up to your
graduation,’ said Rico.
‘Yes. No,’ replied Lola. ‘Well, kind of. There’s more to it than that. I
wanted to study Art at university, but they convinced me to do Law. I
wasn’t crazy about the idea but I thought, OK, that might be useful, you
know, get a law degree, then go out into the world and help people. I really
struggled to stay on top of my studies and had very little support from them
and, yes, they didn’t turn up to my graduation when I really wanted them to.
But what really got me was, the day after I graduated they showed me a
photo of some guy from Spain that they wanted me to marry.’
‘What, Mum and Dad did that? Who was the guy?’ asked Rico.
‘I don’t know. I’d never seen him before, and I never wanted to see him
again, and never wanted to hear such rubbish again. Actually, it was more
Dad than Mum, but when I told them I wasn’t interested in this guy they
said they had another one lined up. As if I’d done all that study just to be
married off. So I’ve never forgiven them for not thinking about what I want
from my life, and they’ve never forgiven me for calling them old-fashioned
and backward.’
‘I didn’t know any of that,’ said Rico. ‘I thought they were modern and
up-to-date and everything.’
‘Yes, but you’re a boy. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think they’re bad
people, I just think they treated me badly, and I guess I wanted to punish
them for it. I don’t hate them; if I really hated them I wouldn’t make contact
when I do.’
‘That’s not very often, is it?’ said Rico.
‘Well, I’m busy working in the art gallery and making a life for myself. I
just like them to know sometimes that I’m still alive.’
Kim interrupted. ‘Hey, enough of going down memory lane. We have a
lot to think about. Rico, I’ve thought about this all night and I still don’t
know what you should do. You could stay here for a while, but you are
wanted: they are not going to stop until they find you, so I think I have to
ask again: why don’t you just give yourself up?’
Rico stood up abruptly. He walked around in a small circle in the middle
of the room. ‘Because. Because – if I give myself up now I’m on my own,
and who’s going to believe me? I know you both said I’m not on my own
and you’ll support me and all that, but when they have me in the station I’ll
be all on my own, so I’m going to wait for a bit.’
‘Wait for what?’ asked Kim.
‘I’m going to wait for a while to see if they get Speech. I’m sure they
will, and once they get him the truth will be out.’
‘But,’ said Lola, ‘it doesn’t matter if they find him or not, you’ll still be
in trouble.’
 ‘Yes, I know,’ said Rico loudly. ‘But I won’t be in as much trouble.
There’s a big difference between doing a bit of computer hacking and mass
murder.’
Lola responded quietly. ‘I might not have actually practised law, but I
think they might be able to get you on conspiracy to mass murder. I don’t
know, I’m just saying.’
Rico sat back down. ‘How can they do me for conspiracy when I didn’t
know what was going on?’
‘It gets all technical; they can twist things using jargon. All I’m saying is
that something that makes sense to you might not make sense to the law, or
vice versa.’
‘Vice versa, vice versa!’ Rico said angrily. ‘Who cares about vice versa;
I’m telling the truth. That should be good enough.’
‘I’m just telling you what it’s like,’ said Lola, now raising her voice. ‘So
don’t get angry with me.’
‘Calm down, both of you,’ said Kim. ‘Let’s be constructive.’
The room went silent as they all began thinking. Soon the silence was
broken by Rico.
‘I know. I can hack into the police computers again and send them a
message, or I could just send them an email telling them everything that
happened.’
‘That’s mad,’ said Lola.
‘What’s the point of that?’ asked Kim.
‘Well, they would know the real story,’ replied Rico. ‘And once they
knew the real story, they’d let me go.’
‘You know that’s not going to work,’ said Lola. ‘As soon as you
contacted them they would find out where you were and then they’d raid
us.’
‘OK, you’re right,’ said Rico. Then he had another idea. ‘Lola. Why
don’t you go home and see what‘s happening? See how Mum and Dad are,
and see if they know I’m innocent.’
‘Rico, you’re not exactly innocent,’ replied Lola.
‘I am.’
‘You’re not. You hacked into police systems. It doesn’t matter how you
did it and why you did it, it’s illegal. You even told me before I left home
that you’d hacked into other stuff, and I did warn you. But you didn’t listen
to me.’
‘I did listen to you,’ said Rico. ‘I know it’s illegal, but I thought it was a
bit of fun. I’ve been hacking for ages and never hurt anyone. I just wanted
to see things. I just wanted to test my skills. I wouldn’t have hacked into the
police if I knew what was really happening. I know that doesn’t make it
right.’
‘It doesn’t make it right,’ said Lola. ‘And it’s no excuse. The point is,
you’re not innocent.’
‘So what are we going to do?’ asked Kim impatiently.
‘What about my idea of you going home, Lola?’ asked Rico.
‘No. That’s not happening,’ replied Lola. ‘Anyway, it would look strange
if I suddenly turned up.’
‘Phone them then,’ Rico said sharply.
‘No,’ said Lola. ‘What are we going to talk about? I’d have to tell a pack
of lies about not seeing you, and if the police are watching then they’d trace
the phone call and …’
‘But,’ Rico interrupted, ‘it probably looks strange that I’m all over the
TV and you haven’t made contact to ask what’s going on.’
‘They’ll just think I don’t care.’
‘You don’t, do you?’ shouted Rico.
Lola lost her temper and really shouted.
‘If I didn’t care I wouldn’t have taken the day off to be with you. If I
didn’t care I wouldn’t have been up all night worrying about you. If I didn’t
care …’
‘OK,’ said Kim. ‘Let’s all calm down.’
The sound of a cheap computerised version of Mozart’s Allegro filled the
room. It was Lola’s phone. She answered.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot – we both forgot – can we go next week?’
She put her hand over the phone and whispered over to Kim, ‘It’s Hutch
– it’s about tonight.’
She continued the call.
‘There’s stuff I need to do so I just can’t make it tonight. No, it’s not
really convenient for you to come over here – we’re really busy. Look, let’s
talk in a couple of days – I’ll call you – maybe we can see each other this
weekend. OK, great, thanks, bye.’
 ‘Who was that?’ asked Rico.
‘It was Hutch, my boyfriend; we were going out tonight. I forgot all
about it.’
‘So did I,’ said Kim. ‘What did he say?’
‘He sounded a bit let down but he’s OK. I think he’s blaming himself.’
Rico turned to Kim. ‘So do you have a boyfriend?’
‘I did but I soon got rid of him,’ Kim replied.
Lola continued, ‘He was an absolute horror. She kicked him out, then I
moved in.’
‘Never mind my life,’ interrupted Kim. ‘Let’s deal with this. I think these
ideas are stupid, Rico. You have to give yourself up.’
‘I need more time,’ said Rico.
‘He needs more time,’ Lola said to Kim. ‘And you need some clothes,’
she said to Rico.
‘He needs some what?’ asked Kim. ‘What’s clothes got to do with it?’
‘Well, look at him,’ replied Lola. ‘Those are basically his school clothes.
Too recognisable. Whatever happens, he’s going to need a change of
clothes.’ She turned to Rico. ‘I’ll get you some clothes. You can pay me
back later.’
‘I still think we need to deal with the whole situation, not just the
clothes,’ said Kim, looking unhappy.
‘Of course we need to deal with the whole thing,’ said Lola. ‘But we
don’t want to rush and make the wrong decision. So I suggest we leave
Rico here, go for a drive into town, and get him some clothes.’
‘OK,’ said Kim, turning to Rico. ‘What’s your size?’

Lola and Kim went shopping. The house fell silent and Rico was left alone
with his thoughts.

Lola drove to a budget clothing store and they bought the first things they
saw that didn’t look like school uniform. When they had finished shopping
for clothes they went to a chemist and bought a toothbrush and a comb.
They drove home, but halfway there the mood changed when Kim raised
her concerns.
‘We have to be careful, Lola. The more we do to help him, the more we
get ourselves involved in this, and this is so serious. We could be getting
ourselves into real trouble. We could be part of a terrorist plot.’
‘This is serious,’ said Lola. ‘But my little brother is no terrorist. He’s just
got himself into a situation and he needs our help.’
‘You mean he needs your help.’
‘What are you saying?’ asked Lola. ‘You don’t want to help him?’
Not wanting to upset Lola, Kim thought carefully before she spoke. ‘I’m
saying he got himself into this mess, so he can get himself out of it. He
might have to go to prison. You know that, don’t you? And if he does, I
don’t want him to take me with him. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Imagine you were in this situation. You’d want someone to help you.’
‘But I wouldn’t get myself in this situation.’
‘Come on, Kim. He’s fifteen. We all make mistakes.’
‘Yes,’ said Kim. ‘But if we make mistakes, we should put them right. He
should give himself up.’
‘That’s up to him, but whatever he does I have to stick by him,’ said
Lola.
‘But I don’t,’ said Kim, looking straight ahead and unable to look at Lola.
‘And what does that mean?’ Lola shouted.
‘Lola, I’m sorry. You are my friend, but Rico is not my brother, he’s
yours. It just means I have to think of the bigger picture. That’s all I’m
saying.’

The rest of the journey home was tense, with Kim staring out of the window
as Lola drove, neither saying a word. When they arrived home Rico could
sense that something was not right, but Lola put on a smile.
‘Hey, try these on. They looked great on the hangers.’
They handed him the bags and went upstairs to their rooms, leaving him
to get changed. Kim began to play loud music on her computer. It was
unusually loud, and after a few minutes, as Lola was going to the bathroom,
she heard talking coming from Kim’s room. It was Kim’s voice, but she was
speaking quickly and quietly, trying not to be heard over the music. Lola
put her ear to the door to hear what Kim was saying.
‘I can’t turn the music down,’ said Kim. ‘They might hear me. He’s here
now, downstairs. The terrorist kid. Rico Federico. He stayed here last night.
I know hoax calling is illegal, I know that, but I’m telling you the truth.
Come quickly and you will find him here now.’
Lola ran to her room. She opened a drawer where she kept her underwear
and pushed her hand right to the back, grabbing a handful of banknotes that
she had hidden there. She then went to another drawer where she kept
earphones, batteries and other bits of gadgets, and she grabbed an old
mobile phone connected to its charger. She stopped at Kim’s bedroom and
heard Kim still on the phone, now giving out their address. Lola ran
downstairs. Rico stood up, pretty pleased with the clothes he was now
wearing.
‘Not bad,’ he said. But he saw the panic on Lola’s face, and heard it in
her voice.
‘You’ve go to go, Rico,’ she said. ‘Look, here’s some money, and here’s
a phone. Don’t phone home with it, and don’t phone me with it. I’ll call
you. But you got to go. The police are on their way.’
‘How do you know?
‘There’s no time for that now. Just go. I’ll call you. Grab what you need
and go.’
Rico put his new baseball cap on, and on top of that he put up the hood of
his new hoodie, then he stuffed some of his old clothes into one of the bags,
with the money, phone, charger, toothbrush and comb, and he went. Just as
he was going through the door Lola pulled him back. She hugged him
tightly. ‘Take care.’
‘I’ll try my best. Thanks, Lola,’ said Rico. ‘I’ll sort it out.’

Lola ran upstairs and went straight into Kim’s room. Kim was still on the
phone.
‘How could you?’ Lola shouted. ‘How could you? You couldn’t even
give us a bit more time to sort things out.’
Kim shouted back. ‘This is my house, and I’m responsible for what goes
on in here. I’m scared, Lola. I don’t want any of this.’
The man on the phone could be heard calling out. ‘Hello? Hello? Are you
still there? Hello?’
‘You’re evil!’ shouted Lola.
‘At least I don’t kill people,’ said Kim.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 17

Road Block

The road was closed off. People were ordered to stay in their houses, and no
one was allowed to enter the street. Armed police surrounded the house.
Some officers were in the back garden, others were in the front, and some
were in the neighbouring gardens. There was no escape route. The
occupants of the house were ordered by loudhailer to come out, with their
hands above their heads. The door opened slowly, the armed officers set
their sights on it, and the two frightened young women came out. They held
their arms up high. Lola looked straight ahead; Kim was crying, but she was
able to speak.
‘Please don’t shoot us.’
A voice spoke using a loudhailer. ‘Is there anyone else in the house?’
‘No,’ said Kim. Lola just shook her head.
‘Walk forwards,’ said the voice.
They reached the pavement and were told to stop, then a group of armed
police officers stormed the house. Lola’s car was searched and inside the
house the police went from room to room looking in every corner, in every
cupboard. As each room was checked an officer would shout ‘clear’. When
they found no one in the house they all left. An officer shouted, ‘All clear.’
Lola and Kim were told to stand still as a female officer approached
them. After searching them she asked whose house it was.
‘Mine,’ said Kim.
‘And who called the police?
‘I did,’ said Kim.
The officer went and spoke to the officer in charge of the operation and
the armed police were told to down their weapons. Lola and Kim were
taken inside and the road was reopened. Two male uniformed police
officers stood outside the house, and one male and one female plain-clothes
officer went inside to question Lola and Kim.

Lola and Kim sat together on the couch as they were being questioned. The
male officer sat in front of them, the female officer stood next to him. Kim
and Lola were both honest, but they only answered the questions they were
asked. They told the officers how Rico had turned up unexpectedly the
night before, how they fed him, where he slept, and that he told them he
didn’t do the bombing. When asked why they didn’t tell the police as soon
as he arrived they explained that at first they didn’t even know about the
bombing, but when they found out, many of their conversations were about
when he should give himself up.
The policeman warned them that if Rico were ever to show up again they
should tell the police, and just before they left, the policewoman asked one
final question.
‘It’s in your best interest to be completely honest. We understand that you
didn’t know what was going on and you weren’t sure what to do. We also
appreciate that it was you who called us, but this is now a terrorism and
murder case, with national and possibly international implications, so we
need to know. Do you know where he is?’
Lola and Kim had disagreed over how to handle Rico’s arrival, they had
even shown their disagreements in front of the police officers, but they were
both telling the truth when they said they didn’t know where Rico was.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 18

A Friend in Need?

Rico had £185.55. He had clean clothes on, dirty clothes in a bag, one
mobile phone that he couldn’t use, and a mobile phone with a charger that
he could. After leaving Kim’s house he just walked as far as he could; he
had no idea where he was, he just wanted to get as far away from the house
as possible. He found trying to move around in streets that he didn’t know,
whilst trying not to be noticed by anyone, very difficult. Fortunately there
were lots of teenage boys around who looked like him, but he still didn’t
want to draw attention to himself. Speaking to someone wasn’t going to be
easy; in this part of the West Midlands they would notice his accent. The
Birmingham accent wasn’t very different, but it was different enough to be
noticed. It was getting late though, he was hungry, and he had to eat. As he
wandered through some back streets he saw a fish and chip shop. He didn’t
like fish and chips, but he was in no position to be choosy. He didn’t want
to go into the shop himself for fear of being recognised, so when he saw a
young boy texting on his phone he approached him.
‘You all right, mate?’
‘Yeah. You from round here?’ asked the boy.
‘Yeah, I’m from just over the road,’ Rico said, pointing. ‘But I got a bit
of a problem.’
‘What?’ said the boy suspiciously.
‘I got banned for fighting in the fish shop last week; they won’t let me
back in there. Could you get me a bag of fish and chips and a drink? I’ll buy
you a bag of chips.’
‘Who were you fighting?’
‘A boy from Stourbridge. He thought he was hard, pushing me around, so
I let him have it.’
 ‘Good. I don’t like boys from Stourbridge. Who won?’ asked the boy.
‘I did. Think I broke his nose. Anyway, they banned me. Can you do it
for me?’ Rico said, not wanting to make the conversation drag on.
‘You’ll give me a bag of chips?’
‘Yes.’
‘No,’ said the boy. ‘I’ll do it for a bag of fish and chips.’
‘OK,’ said Rico, not wanting to argue.
‘No,’ said the boy. ‘I’ll do it for a bag of fish and chips and a drink. Just
like you’re having.’
‘That’s a lot,’ said Rico.
‘That’s my final offer,’ said the boy.
‘OK,’ said Rico. ‘You can have a bag of fish and chips, and a drink. Just
like I’m having.’
He gave him £10 and the boy was soon back, carrying two bags of fish
and chips, two cans of drink, and the change. He handed Rico his food and
drink and his money.
‘Any time you need chips I’ll get them for you. Where you going now?’
‘I’m going home. See you, maybe.’
Rico began to walk away.
‘Hey,’ shouted the boy. ‘You’re going the wrong way.’
Rico realised he was walking in the opposite direction from where he had
said he lived. So he quickly thought of a reply.
‘I’m just walking round the block to eat my food before I go in.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No,’ said Rico as he quickened his pace. ‘I like to eat alone.’

It didn’t take him long to finish his meal, and then he was left with a major
challenge. He had to find somewhere to sleep. He considered bus stations
and cheap hostels, but he thought they would be too risky. Eventually he
found a housing estate. He thought about sleeping behind a large group of
rubbish bins, but it was a mess, and he could see by the unfinished meals
there that he would probably have to share the space with hungry rats from
the neighbourhood, feral cats or even a fox. He walked to the back of the
estate. It was a dead end. He jumped up, grabbed the top of the wall and
pulled himself up, just enough to see over, and although it was dark he
could make out that it was an allotment. He lowered himself back down,
rested for a couple of seconds and then jumped up again, this time pulling
himself right up until he was on top of the wall, and then lowered himself
down on the other side. He was at the back of the allotment and hardly
needed to go anywhere before he came upon a row of sheds. The first few
he tried were locked, but then he found one that was open. He searched
around in the dark. Running his hands along the wall he came across rakes,
hedge trimmers, spades and forks, and a watering can. Then he found a
large woven bag used for garden waste, and he knew exactly what he was
going to do with it. He made a bit of room for himself in the corner of the
shed and sat down. With his back upright against the shed wall he took the
bag and covered his legs.
It was a long night. As Rico lay awake he started to imagine all types of
spiders crawling over him. Although he could feel the tiny spider feet
walking across his forehead, down his neck and in his ears, it was his mind
playing tricks. When he was tired of thinking, tired of worrying and tired of
the mind games, his head would drop, he would sleep for a short time, and
then he would suddenly snap awake again. He did this time and time again
until dawn, and he got very little sleep.

The shed was still dark but Rico could see light trying to enter through
cracks in the wooden panels and the space under the door. He opened the
door just enough for him to see out, and to let enough light in. He had a
good look around at where he had slept, and then at the tools and
equipment, but none of it was of any use to him. He looked outside and saw
a couple of early risers tending to their vegetables. They were in the
distance, but he knew that whoever owned the shed he was in could come at
any time, and he didn’t want to be there if they did. He put the bag that he
had used to keep warm back where he found it, along with the other things
that he had moved. He brushed himself off, hooded himself up, and was
ready to go, although he had no idea where. Before he left he stood behind
the door and turned on the mobile phone that Lola had given him. He
waited awhile, but there were no messages. He stared at the phone trying to
will a message to arrive, but none came. As he looked at the phone display
saying NO MESSAGES, he felt desperately lonely. There was no one to turn to.
He turned the phone off. He waited until the people in the allotments were
looking the other way, and left. He retraced his footsteps and climbed back
over the wall into the housing estate.

The housing estate was just coming to life with people leaving for work and
school. Rico walked through the estate and back onto the streets, but he was
nervous. He knew that the longer he was on the run the more people would
know about him, and the more people knew about him the more difficult it
would be to hide. As he walked he made mental notes of the road names
and his direction of travel, whilst at the same time trying to hold his head
down. Then he saw a sign for Dartmouth Park; he followed it, and then
more signs, until he reached the park. He wandered around the park for a
while until he saw a lake. At various points around the lake people were
preparing to do some fishing so Rico sat and watched them. He watched for
an hour as more people came to feed the ducks and swans, and although
none of them paid any attention to Rico he began to feel uneasy. He stood
up and began to wander around again, and then he saw some toilets. He
quickened his pace and went straight to them. After relieving himself he
went to the sink where he brushed his teeth, and when his teeth were done
he dropped his hood, took off his cap, and washed his hair using the hand
soap. After he had washed and rinsed he put his head under the hand dryer
to let the warm air dry his hair. He was feeling relieved, relaxed and
refreshed – until he was disturbed.
‘I could think of easier ways of cooking your head if that’s what you
really want.’
Rico twisted round and looked up to see a man standing over him. He
was dressed in overalls and carrying some gardening tools.
‘I fell over,’ said Rico. ‘Got some dirt in my hair so I washed it out.’
‘As long as you didn’t mess up one of my flower beds that’s all right,’
said the man with a grin.
‘No,’ said Rico. ‘It happened by the lake.’
‘Good job you didn’t fall in then. You would have needed a bigger hair
dryer than that.’
The man continued into the lavatory. Rico’s hair was now dry but he kept
his head under the dryer until the man had left the lavatory altogether. As
soon as he left Rico took his bag and went back into one of the cubicles.
Rico was relieved that the man had not recognised him, but he began to
wonder how long it could continue. When would his luck run out?
Rico sat on the closed toilet seat, wondering what he should do next. He
turned on the phone to see if there were any messages. There were none, so
he quickly turned the phone off. In his mind he began to relive the moment
he closed the police website down, and then the moment he saw the police
outside his house. Then he recalled watching the news report on TV with
Lola, when he realised just how much damage had been done. He shook his
head, trying to shake the pictures out of his mind. He was desperate to hear
from Lola, and he couldn’t understand why she had not been in contact yet.
Then he thought that maybe it was time to stop thinking about Lola; maybe
she had given up on him. Maybe he should just start thinking about himself,
and his own survival, alone.

It was almost midday. Rico had seen enough of the toilet cubicle, and he
was getting hungry. He waited until the lavatory was empty and left. His
plan was to find a way of getting something to eat, even if it meant more
fish and chips, but as he made his way out of the park he felt a thud in his
lower back. It hit him so hard he dropped his bag. He thought of running
but when he looked behind him all he saw on the ground was a football. He
looked up and saw a young man running towards him. He looked beyond
the man and saw another younger man waiting for the return of the ball so
they could continue their kick around.
‘Sorry, mate,’ said the man. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes,’ said Rico quickly. ‘I’m OK.’
‘Really sorry, mate. We didn’t mean it, honestly.’
‘It’s no problem,’ said Rico nervously, kicking the ball back.
The man picked up the ball, but after he picked it up he carried on
running towards Rico, stopping right in front of him. The man was panting
and out of breath.
‘I got a powerful kick, yeah, but I’m just not very good at getting it on
target.’
‘It’s cool,’ insisted Rico. Having not wanted to draw attention to himself,
this was exactly what was happening. People were looking his way,
concerned about Rico after seeing how hard he had been hit.
 ‘It didn’t even hurt me,’ said Rico, stepping around the man and waving
goodbye to him.
‘OK. See you,’ said the man, who then turned and ran back to his mate.
Rico continued walking out of the park but just before he got to the gate
the ball appeared again. This time it rolled past him. He looked behind him
and saw the same man with his companion running towards him. Rico
picked up the ball and kicked it back to them. The man caught the ball but
they both continued running towards him. By the time they got to Rico they
were both out of breath. The man with the ball was visibly excited, his
friend less so.
‘What’s your name?’ asked the man.
‘Why do you want to know?’ replied Rico. He continued to walk. Rico
was now very anxious. He just did not want a conversation with these
people. He forced a smile. ‘Don’t worry. I told you, I’m fine. I’ve been hit
by footballs much harder than that.’
‘Come on. Just tell me your name,’ the man said a little more forcefully.
‘Be polite. My name’s Rohan, what’s yours?’
Rico went silent. He wasn’t sure what to do. Then Rohan looked to his
companion, threw him the ball and said, ‘I told you. It’s him. The terror kid.
I know his face.’
Rico began to run. He ran out of the gates and down the street. The men
ran after him. Rico was not a fast runner, and having to hold the bag slowed
him down, but he ran as fast as he could. Then suddenly a man spread his
arms open and blocked Rico’s path. Rico tried to run around him, but the
man was big, and there was nowhere to go.
‘I’ve got him!’ shouted the man. ‘No one gets past me. I used to play
rugby. No one got past me then, no one gets past me now.’
The man wrapped his arms around Rico until the men caught up.
‘Did he steal something from you?’ asked the man. Rico tried to struggle
free, but the man gripped him so firmly he could barely breathe.
‘No,’ said Rohan’s companion. ‘We’re just playing a game.’
‘Just playing a game?’ said the man disbelievingly. ‘You could have
fooled me.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Rohan. ‘Let him go. He’s our friend.’
‘Your friend. I’m sorry,’ said the man as he let Rico go. ‘And there I was,
trying to be a superhero. You young ones play some strange games
nowadays. I’ll be off then. Leave you to your strange games.’
The man walked off. There was an audible sigh of relief from all three of
them. The men looked at Rico, and Rico looked at them, none of them sure
what to do next.
‘So it’s like this, right. I’m Rohan, and this is my brother Dean.’ Rohan
lowered his voice. ‘We know who you are, but don’t worry, there’s no
problem. We’re cool. We not gonna tell the cops or anything. Let’s go for a
walk. Get off the busy road.’
The two brothers stepped either side of Rico and began to walk. Rico had
no choice but to walk with them.
‘What are you going to do to me? asked Rico, who was now a little
scared.
‘Nothing,’ said Dean. ‘We are your friends. We’re on your side.’

Rohan and Dean were older than Rico, in their twenties. Rohan had blond
hair and was skinny, tall and very talkative. His brother Dean was also
blond, but a man of few words. Both wore jeans and West Bromwich
Albion football shirts. When they had left the main road Rohan continued to
talk.
‘I can’t believe you’re here. Hey, do you need anything?’
‘Are you going to call the police?’ asked Rico quietly.
‘No way!’ said Rohan. ‘We hate the police. Do you need anything?’
‘I just need somewhere to rest and something to eat.’
‘That’s no problem,’ said Rohan. ‘We can help you with that. Can’t we,
Dean?’
‘Yes,’ said Dean. ‘Shall we take him to the pub?’
‘That’s what I’m thinking,’ said Rohan with a big smile on his face.
‘I’m not going to a pub,’ said Rico.
‘It’s not that kind of a pub. Well, it’s not a pub. You’ll see when we get
there.’ said Dean.

They walked for a short while until they came to Dean and Rohan’s house.
Dean went in, leaving Rohan and Rico to walk on and wait a short distance
away. Soon Dean appeared from the side gate, signalling them to enter.
Once through the gate Dean and Rohan led Rico to a cabin at the bottom of
the garden. It was comfortable inside, with three armchairs, football shields
and trophies on the walls, a pool table at its centre, and a bar that looked
exactly like a bar in a pub.
‘You can stay here for a while. No one comes here, not without our
permission anyway,’ said Rohan.
Rico looked around at the trophies, and then he walked up to the pool
table and ran his fingers over the cloth.
‘I see why you call it the pub now.’
Rohan joined him and started to run his fingers over the table.
‘Yes, when we were small we liked to play pool.’
‘And drink,’ said Dean.
‘So our dad made this cabin for us,’ Rohan continued. ‘It’s a great place
to just chill out. We don’t normally let people in here, you know. But you’re
special.’
‘What do you like to eat?’ asked Dean
Rico reply was quick. ‘Right now, I’ll eat anything.’

Rohan drew the curtains and Dean went back into the house and brought
back some sandwiches, biscuits and two cans of soft drink. The brothers
watched as Rico cleaned up the food that was placed before him, then they
talked. They talked for most of the afternoon, and come early evening the
brothers went into the house for their meals, leaving Rico for a while,
returning again with more food.

When they talked it was about life in the area, what the local kids were like,
films they had seen and football, which Rico was not at all interested in.
The brothers explained that their mother was disabled, and although she
could walk a little around the house, most of the time she had to use a
wheelchair, and their father didn’t go to work but spent most of his time
looking after her. Rohan was doing most of the talking, but what was
making Rico uncomfortable was the fact that they didn’t mention that he
was on the run. Not until late in the evening when they were getting ready
to leave him for the night.
‘We have to turn the light off now; if we leave it on it will look weird.
Don’t worry, it’s safe. No one knows that you’re here and no one will find
you. Can you manage in the dark?’ asked Rohan.
 ‘Of course,’ replied Rico. ‘I slept in a garden shed last night. Compared
to that this is luxury. Can I charge my phone up?’
‘No problem, just do it in the dark. Don’t open the curtains until we come
back, and try to be quiet. But you’ll be fine.’

As soon as they left, Rico turned on the phone that Lola had given him, but
again there were no messages. He was tempted to turn on his own phone
but he knew that once he turned it on he could be traced. He put his newly
acquired phone on to charge, spent some time thinking, and then he curled
up in an armchair and went to sleep.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 19

A Bit of Cash Here, A Bit of Cash There

Rico slept soundly right through the night and most of the morning. It was
almost eleven o’clock when he woke up. He was hot. The sunlight hit the
window and, even with the curtains closed, the greenhouse effect began to
fry him. He stood up and as he stretched the cabin door opened, just enough
for Rohan and Dean to peep in.
‘Can we come in?’ asked Rohan.
‘Of course,’ said Rico.
‘We’ve come over a couple of times but you were fast asleep. We didn’t
want to wake you up.’
Rohan was carrying a dish, a spoon and a bottle of milk. Dean was
carrying a box of breakfast cereal, a couple of white bread rolls and a jar of
jam. Soon Rico was eating the food, with Rohan and Dean looking on.
When Rico caught their eyes they smiled back at him as if they were really
happy just to see a hungry boy being fed. When Rico was finished they both
left, saying they would be back very soon.

Thirty minutes later they returned. This time they were smiling but empty-
handed.
‘Rico,’ said Rohan. ‘Our parents have gone down the day centre, let’s go
in the house.’
Rico was cautious. ‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s safe,’ said Dean. ‘They’re away for a couple of hours. More space in
there.’
‘You can get all you need,’ said Rohan. ‘You can go to the toilet, have a
shower, anything. Let’s go.’
They guided Rico into the house; it was small, but with some surprises: two
canaries sang in one birdcage, and there was an owl asleep in another. There
was also a big fish tank full of tropical fish and in the corner was a large
television.
‘Can I watch some telly?’ asked Rico.
‘Later,’ said Rohan.
‘I want to see what they’re saying about me.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll come to that in a while.’
Rohan gently put his hands on Rico’s shoulders and turned him towards
the stairs, then led him straight to the bathroom.
‘Do what you like. There are towels, shampoo; we even got nail cutters
in the cabinet next to the mirror. It’s all yours. Just give us a shout if you
need anything else – and take your time.’

Rico spent forty minutes in the bathroom, and when he came out he felt and
looked like a different person, but he sensed there was something wrong.
Rohan and Dean were being too nice to him. He asked to watch some TV
again and the subject was changed quickly. They showed him old family
photos in an album, and newer family photos on a laptop computer. Rico
feigned interest in order not to upset his hosts.

Back in the cabin they started to talk about the obvious.

‘They’re looking for you everywhere, you know?’ said Rohan.
‘I know,’ replied Rico.
‘You’re a bit of a hero, you know?’ said Dean.
Rico shook his head.
‘No, you got that wrong. I’m no hero.’
‘What are you saying?’ said Rohan. ‘You’re the man, you’re the one
everyone’s talking about. Terror Kid, that’s what they’re calling you, and
everyone’s scared of you.’
‘“Terror Kid,”’ Rico said, surprised.
‘Yes. The most dangerous kid in the country, public enemy number one.
If they get you you’re going away for a long time, a very long time, but
you’re safe here. We have a plan.’
Rico raised his eyebrows and looked at the pair, his eyes darting from
one to another.
 ‘What plan?’
Rohan went and stood by the door; Dean went and sat right next to Rico
and began to speak.
‘We’ll help you as much as we can but if you want to survive out here
you’re going to need some money. We haven’t got much but we know
where to get some.’
‘I’ve got some money,’ said Rico.
‘How much?’ asked Rohan.
Rico wasn’t sure if he should tell them, but he had already said too much.
‘About a hundred pounds.’
Rohan laughed.
Dean continued to speak quietly and calmly.
‘You can’t survive out here on a hundred quid. You need more. We need
more, and we’re not even on the run. We have a plan to raise our financial
status, but we need you.’
‘What do you need me for?’
‘You know how to make big bombs, and we need a little one, a little tiny
baby one.’
Rico jumped out of his seat.
‘I don’t make bombs!’ he shouted. ‘That wasn’t me. Do you hear me? It
wasn’t me!’
Dean was unmoved. ‘So what you on the run for?’
‘It’s complicated, I can’t explain now.’
‘There’s no need for you to explain. Sit down, and let me explain.’
Rico sat down slowly and Dean continued.
‘There’s this shop you see, and in this shop there’s sweets and cigarettes,
and chocolates and magazines, and there’s a cash point. This cash point is a
bit stubborn. It’s not the cash point’s fault. The problem is they put it in the
wall, and it’s concreted in.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’ asked Rico.
‘We’ve done a dry run so we’ve got a way into this shop,’ continued
Dean. ‘So we want to go in, and take that cash machine away. But we need
you to make a little baby bomb, just enough to blow it off the wall, and trust
me, everything will be all right.’
Rico shook his head and spoke firmly. ‘I told you, I don’t know how to
make bombs.’
 Then Rohan joined in.
‘Hey, man. Whatever you call that thing you made that ripped the cop
station apart, that’s what we want. That was top class, but we’re not in that
class. We don’t understand politics, we’re not freedom fighters or anything
like that. We’re just poor people who need a bit of money to make life
better for us, and at the same time we can help you. You just make the
thing, tell us how to use it, and then you wait here. We’ll go, do the job,
come back, give you a cut, then you do anything you want. If you want to
stay here, you can; if you want to move on, you can. You can do whatever
you want to do – you’ll have the money for it.’
Dean took over.
‘It’s easy. Come on, look what we’ve done for you.’
Rico jumped up again. This time he really shouted.
‘Yes, you helped me, thanks, but I didn’t make a bomb, so forget it.’
Without warning, Dean lost control. He punched Rico on the side of his
head. Rico went to the floor. Dean jumped straight on him, put his hands
tight around his throat, and shouted at him as he shook Rico’s head
violently from side to side.
‘After all we’ve done for you! If it weren’t for us you’d still be walking
the streets. We could turn you in any time, we could grass you up, but we
just ask you for a bit of help. You don’t help us but you help your Muslim
friends.’
Rohan hurried over and pulled Dean off Rico.
‘Cool down, Dean. Just chill, man. Go and see if Mum and Dad are back.
Dean got up and left the cabin, cursing as he went.

Rico was stunned by the attack. Rohan helped him to his feet and sat him
back down. The inside of Rico’s head was spinning, the outside felt as if a
brick had been implanted in it. After sitting in a chair next to Rico and
giving him a bit of time to recover, Rohan began to try to persuade Rico
again.
‘Sorry about that. Sometimes Dean just goes crazy, and he’s got a bit of a
temper on him. Listen, everyone in the country knows how good you are.
We just need a bit of help. We’re not big-time, we do a little job here, a little
job there, make a bit of cash here, a bit of cash there, we’re just small-time
hustlers. Now, you can help us, can’t you?’
 ‘I can’t,’ said Rico very quietly.
‘Well,’ said Rohan. ‘I always try to be reasonable. I like to talk things
through, but Dean’s not like that. You’ve seen how he can just lose his
temper. He’s desperate, and when he’s desperate he’s dangerous. I don’t
know if I can protect you if he loses it again. That’s all I’m saying. Come
on, do this for us.’
Rico sat looking at the floor. He thought so hard he could feel the
electricity in his brain. He was trapped, and he could see only one way out.
He nodded his head. ‘OK.’
‘Good,’ said Rohan. ‘Now what do you need?’
‘First of all I need to rest my head,’ said Rico.
‘I understand,’ said Rohan smoothly. ‘I’ll go and have a word with Dean.
I’ll make sure he won’t be doing that again, but you will help us, won’t
you?’
‘Yes,’ said Rico. ‘I’ll do it. I just need some petrol and some – some –
some fertiliser. I’ll do it.’
Rico didn’t really know what he was talking about. He thought that petrol
ignites, and he had heard on the news that fertiliser can blow up, so he said
the first things that came into his head to make Rohan go away. To Rohan it
was music to his ears. Rico sounded like he knew what he was talking
about. Rohan smiled a smile of satisfaction.
‘We can get that stuff. You get your head together and we’ll come back
and have a chat. How does that sound?’
‘OK,’ said Rico. ‘Yes, we can do business.’

As soon as Rohan left, Rico grabbed a bread roll and gathered his few
things together. He opened the curtain just enough to see Rohan enter the
house. He thought quickly. Getting out of the entrance at the side of the
house was risky; the gate was too near the house. Climbing over the side
fence was also risky; he could be seen from the house. So he got his bag,
opened the door and slipped round the back of the cabin where he couldn’t
be seen. Then he jumped over the fence and ran through the garden that
backed onto the house behind. He ran to the side entrance gate, but there
was a dog. It was small dog, a very small dog, but it was loud and angry.
Rico ran with the dog barking at his heels, but when he got to the gate it
was locked. Panicking, he threw over the bag, climbed over, picked up the
bag and ran along the side of the house, down the street. Once he hit the
street he just ran as fast as he could, as far as he could.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 20

Room Service

When Rico could run no further he stopped to get his strength back. He saw
a phone box, picked up the handset and put it to his ear to make it look like
he was making a call, and used the time to rest. When he was fully
recovered he took out the mobile phone that Lola had given him and turned
it on. This time there was a message. He felt weak with relief. It was from
Lola, and it was a simple message, and she was using a name that only Rico
would know.

It’s Woodpecker. Meet me 2nite @ 9 outside the potters house. CU. X

Rico had no idea what the ‘potters house’ was. He ate the bread roll that he
had and spent the next few hours walking from one phone box to another,
until he found one with Internet access. He was tempted to check the
Internet and chat rooms to see what everyone was talking about, and he
thought of checking his emails, but he knew that was dangerous and would
leave a trail, so in the end he just put the coins in and searched for ‘The
Potters House’. It was a church and community centre, and he worked out
that it wasn’t too far away, so he carefully planned a route and began his
journey. Once he had checked the road names and direction of travel he put
his head down and went purposefully on his way.

He arrived at The Potters House and waited outside the main entrance. He
wasn’t sure how Lola would arrive, but within two minutes she pulled up in
her Mini. The passenger door opened and he got inside. Lola leaned over,
put her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder,
whispering in his ear.
 ‘I’m really sorry – Kim just doesn’t understand. She’s a good friend but
sometimes she just thinks about herself.’
‘It’s OK,’ he whispered back.
Lola released him and he put his bag in the footwell of the car and
buckled his seatbelt.
Lola spoke as she began to drive.
‘After you left, the police surrounded the house and questioned us. It was
scary. It wasn’t normal police. They came with guns and everything. We
didn’t say anything though – well, we couldn’t, we didn’t know where you
went – but, Rico, they’re serious. I’ll help you as much as I can, but you’re
in big trouble. They’re now saying that you might have left the country and
gone to an Al Qaeda training camp in Yemen.’
‘What, Al Qaeda! This is really out of control. What next? Where are we
going?’ asked Rico.
‘Not far.’
Lola drove down a few side streets, checking her mirrors to make she
wasn’t being followed, and after a short drive they arrived at a hotel. She
parked the car in the car park.
‘OK,’ said Lola. ‘I’ve already checked in, we have a twin room, you’re
my brother, and your name is Alex Robinson, and my name is Jill
Robinson.’
Rico was nervous. ‘Is it safe?’
‘It’s easy. You don’t need to check in. Just go where I go but look like
you know where you’re going. It’s a big hotel, with a big reception, so no
one’s going to notice you – unless you draw attention to yourself.’
‘OK.’
‘Right. Let’s do it,’ said Lola.

They entered the hotel and Rico stuck with Lola as she walked past the
reception to the elevator. Their room on the fifth floor was small, with two
single beds, a television and a small table with two chairs squeezed in.
Lola’s bag was already on her bed. Rico threw his bag on the floor and
jumped onto the other bed, lying down and stretching as far as he could.
Then, sitting up swiftly, he said, ‘I need to watch some TV.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I want to know what’s going on. I’m so out of touch.’
 ‘You’re supposed to be. Where have you been sleeping?’ Lola asked.
‘I was in a horrible shed one night, and in a slightly nicer shed the next
night. Turn the telly on.’
‘In a while – but tell me more.’
‘The first one was someone’s garden shed. I don’t know whose. Then last
night I slept in a kind of cabin thing at the bottom of some guys’ garden.’
‘Which guys?’
‘Just some guys I met. They recognised me and took me in, but they
wanted me to go robbing with them.’
‘Rico! As if you’re not in trouble already. You didn’t say yes, did you?’
‘Of course not. Well, I said yes just to give me a chance to get away.
Look,’ Rico said, pointing to the bruise on the side of his head. ‘One of
them punched me. They were weird.’
‘Are you OK now?’
‘Now that I’m away from them, yes.’
‘As long as you’re OK. Do you want something to eat?’
‘Yes, at last, some real food. Where from?’
‘Room service. Just make sure you’re in the bathroom when they bring
the food in. We don’t want to risk any staff recognising you.’

Lola ordered a large meal and when it arrived Rico did as he was told and
hid in the bathroom. As they ate the meal Rico told Lola everything that had
happened over the past couple of days, and how he had felt worried that she
had not made contact earlier.
‘I had to make sure I wasn’t being watched or followed, so I couldn’t call
straight away. And I couldn’t risk calling from my phone with my SIM
card, so I had to buy a new SIM card and a cheap old phone. If I call you
again it will be from that number. And I’ll be Woodpecker, just like in the
old days.’
‘I understand. So how is Kim?’ Rico asked.
Lola’s surprise was obvious.
‘You sound like you care.’
‘I do. I understand her too. She doesn’t know me, so she doesn’t know if
I really did it or not.’
‘But she knows me; she should trust me,’ said Lola.
 ‘She doesn’t know me, and it’s her house, so I can understand her not
wanting anything to do with me.’
‘You’re such a considerate guy,’ said Lola.
‘Apparently I’m a mass killer. Can I put the telly on please?’
‘OK,’ replied Lola. ‘But remember you’re a compassionate guy, and not
the guy they are making you out to be.’

Rico turned on the television and began to flick through the channels. The
bombing was the number one issue on all the news channels, and the
commentators seemed in no doubt that Rico was guilty. Not a participant in
a bigger plot, not someone who had been used by people more experienced,
but the planner, the organiser and the executioner. When one of the stations
began to show interviews with relatives of the dead and injured, a photo of
Rico appeared. Of all the photos that could have been used, like school
photos or personal photos, the photo they chose to show was one of him
looking very tired on an anti-war demonstration. Rico stared at the image,
hardly recognising himself and the evil personality they were describing.
Lola told Rico to turn the television off. He turned it off and stared at the
blank screen but in his mind he could not stop seeing images of the
bombing victims and that image of himself.
‘What shall I do?’ he said.
‘I’ve given it lots of thought and I still don’t know. It’s up to you. I don’t
want to sound like Kim but why don’t you just consider giving yourself up
and just telling them the truth?’
‘I’ve thought about it, but no way. If I give myself up they’re going to
charge me as if I’m a big murderer. I’ll go to prison for the rest of my life. I
can’t give myself up. I have to wait until they get Speech, then they’ll
understand, everyone will understand. They need to find Speech.’
Lola pleaded, ‘Rico, they’re not even looking for Speech, they’re not
looking for anyone else, they’re only looking for you.’
‘There must be something I can do.’
‘If you give yourself up at least you can try to prove your innocence. If
you don’t you can’t.’
‘Lola!’ Rico shouted. ‘Are you saying that I should give myself up?’
‘Well,’ replied Lola very gently, ‘I’m just saying you should think of all
the options.’
 Rico thought for a while and Lola watched him thinking. The silence was
long. He then turned to look at her. ‘I’m not going to give myself up. I
can’t. Are you still going to help me?’
‘I’m your sister, and I’ll support you in whatever you want to do.’
‘Thanks, that’s good, that’s really good. Just what I want to hear. But you
know what? I don’t have any idea what to do.’
Lola leaned forward and began to stack the empty plates on the table.
‘If you really want to lie low for a long time, I think I can sort something
out, but I need a bit of time. I’ve booked this room for two nights. I have to
go to work tomorrow; the next day, Saturday, is when we have to check out,
but I won’t let you go back on the streets.’
‘Where can I go then?’ Rico asked.
‘Leave it to me.’

The next morning Lola left for work, putting the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the
door as she left. Rico spent most of the day in bed watching television. At
first he watched news reports about him, but when he had had enough of
himself he went to a film channel for escapism. Lola came back at six
o’clock straight from work. She had an Indian takeaway and some fruit with
her, and as they ate, Lola began to speak.
‘Today’s my last day for two weeks. I’m taking my annual leave. I have
to rush home now – I have some things to do, and Kim is expecting me –
but I’ll be back tomorrow morning to check us out and take us away.’
‘Take us where?’
‘That doesn’t matter now, but we’re going to get far away from here, up
north. I’ve rented a really remote place for a couple of weeks and we can go
there for a while.’
‘And then what?’ asked Rico.
‘I don’t know, but let’s get away from here first and then think what to do
next.’
Rico rushed over to Lola and hugged her. ‘Thanks so much. I don’t know
what I’d do without you. I really don’t. Just get me out of here so I can sort
out my head.’
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 21

My Name is Rico Federico

Rico spent the evening alone, and although he spent much of the time
watching news stations he was more relaxed. In the morning he woke up
refreshed. After getting his things together he sat on his bed waiting for
Lola. Using the remote control he turned the television on and began to
watch the news again. The first thing he saw was a weather forecast, and
then the next item rocked him.

“A young girl has been arrested in the case of the police headquarters
bombing. Police have taken the unusual step of getting permission from a
court to name the juvenile girl in the hope that it will jog people’s
memories. It is now believed Karima Yussuf used her extremist ideas to
inspire Rico Federico. She has been arrested several times previously by the
local police, including recently in the Birmingham riots. She was arrested in
the early hours of this morning. Witnesses say it took a number of officers
to restrain her. Although she was unarmed she violently resisted the arrest.”

As the newsreader read the bulletin a picture of Karima appeared on the

screen. Rico couldn’t stand it. He turned the television off. The hotel phone
rang. It was Lola.
‘I’m in the reception. I’m just about to check out. The car is right in front
of the hotel entrance. Just cover up, come down, walk straight out and get
straight to the car. It will be unlocked. I am checking us out. Rico … Rico
… are you there?’
Rico was still thinking about Karima and could barely focus on what
Lola was saying. After a short silence Rico replied.
‘Yes.’
 Lola could sense that something was wrong but all she said was, ‘OK.
See you in the car.’

Rico did exactly as he was told, and it wasn’t long before Lola appeared.
She jumped into the seat next to Rico and turned the car engine on before
she spoke. She was pumped up and ready. ‘Right. That’s all done. Let’s go.’
Rico turned to look directly at Lola.
‘Take me to the police station.’
Lola turned the engine off and hit the steering wheel with her fists.
‘What?’
‘Take me to the police station. I want to give myself up.’
‘Have you gone crazy or what? You kept telling me you didn’t want to go
there. I’ve made all these plans to keep you out. And now you want to go
there?’
Rico didn’t take his eyes off her. ‘Sorry, but this is important. I’m not
crazy, I’ve just had enough. I’m really sorry for messing you about. You’ve
done so much to help me. You’ve always done loads to help me, even when
I was a little kid. But now too many people are getting involved. They’ve
arrested my best friend, and she hasn’t done anything.’
Lola started up the engine again. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to wait
…’
Rico screamed, ‘I said take me to the station. If you don’t, I’ll just go by
myself. I’ve got to go now! Right now!’
Lola interrupted. ‘OK, Rico, calm down. It’s cool. I just want to make
sure you know what you’re doing. Don’t worry. If you want to go, I’ll take
you there.’
She began to drive. ‘How do you know about your friend?’
‘I saw it on the telly. Her name’s Karima. She’s like my best friend and
she hasn’t done anything.’
‘Yes,’ said Lola. ‘I heard something about her on the radio, and
something about the shop you worked in being raided.’
Rico shook his head in despair. ‘You see? It’s too much. The people who
are being hurt by this are the people who are least guilty. So let’s go, and
not just to any station – take me where they know me, close to home. Take
me to Summerfield Police Station.’
Lola stopped the car a block away from the station and turned to Rico.
‘How do you want to do this?’
‘I just want to walk in – alone.’
‘Let me come with you.’
‘No. Too many people are being dragged in already. If you come in with
me they’ll probably arrest you too. No, leave me here and I’ll go in alone.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I really mean this. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.’
Lola leaned over and hugged him. He gave Lola the bag with his clothes
and the phone and charger that she had given him. As he got out of the car
Lola also got out and went round to the passenger side to hug him again.
This was a long, tight hug. They were cheek-to-cheek and Rico could feel
tears running down her face, and as she spoke, the movement of her jaw
spread the tears onto his face.
‘I believe everything you say, and no matter what anyone else says, the
truth shall set you free.’

Rico’s cap was on, but his hood was down, and still no one recognised him
as he walked to the station. He walked straight up to the desk. The Enquiry
Officer put down what he was doing and addressed Rico.
‘Yes, young man, what can I do for you?’
‘My name is Rico Federico. I’ve come to give myself up.’
The desk sergeant leaned forward and took a good look. Without taking
his eyes off Rico he picked up the phone in front of him.
‘I need officers out here to make an arrest.’
He put the phone down and pointed to Rico.
‘Now you stay right where you are,’ he said.
Rico was nervous but calm. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
A side door opened and two plain-clothes officers came out. They were
mid-conversation when they looked at Rico. Without saying a word they
both ran towards Rico and took him down to the ground. Rico was
struggling to breathe under the weight of the two officers.
‘Don’t move,’ said one officer.
‘I can’t,’ said Rico.
‘Good,’ said the officer. ‘Well, you’re under arrest for terrorism and
murder. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if
you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in
court. Anything you say may be given as evidence. In other words you’re
nicked.’
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 22

More Questions than Answers

Rico sat impassively at the desk as the officer who’d arrested him walked
into the room and sat down in front of him. He was called Detective
Inspector Kennedy. They were alone in the room, but Rico knew that the
small black balls on the ceiling, in the corners, were cameras, and they were
probably being watched and filmed by a much bigger group of people. The
officer slowly leaned over until Rico got a strong whiff of stale sweat and
old aftershave.
‘Come on, let’s start a conversation here.’
Rico didn’t move. ‘Come on, let’s get me a lawyer here,’ he said.
‘No problem. We can do that.’
‘Well, do it,’ said Rico. ‘I know I have the right to one, or an appropriate
adult. So let’s do that.’
‘Of course, I’ll sort that for you, but it doesn’t matter who’s here – your
people or my people – first of all, me and you have to have a rapport going
on. We’re going to have to trust each other. After all, we’re going to be
spending a lot of time talking to each other.’
Rico turned to look at the officer. ‘I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust
me; we are not friends, associates or anything, so just give me my rights.
I’m a juvenile. I want a lawyer and my parents, and that’s it.’
‘OK,’ said DI Kennedy, straightening up. ‘That’s the way you want to
play it.’
The officer left the room to join his colleagues – eight of them – in an
adjoining room.

DI Kennedy had lots of experience in questioning terrorists and hardened

criminals, but none in questioning intelligent fifteen-year-olds. He talked to
his squad outside the interview room for a while and then agreed that it was
time to call Rico’s legal representative. DI Kennedy took a pad and pen
from his shirt pocket and went back in to see Rico.
‘OK. So what’s your lawyer’s name then?’
Rico was silent. He tried to look confident. He knew his rights, but he
didn’t know any lawyers.
‘Come on, what’s your lawyer’s name?’
Rico looked up at him. ‘I haven’t got one.’
The officer laughed. ‘So after all the big talk you don’t even have a
lawyer. Don’t worry, we can get one for you.’
‘No way,’ shouted Rico. ‘I’m not having one of your lawyers.’ Rico’s
words echoed around the room. He wanted his parents to get a lawyer for
him, but he was also worried about what his parents would think. Would
they believe him? Would they stick by him? He needed help, but he wasn’t
prepared to accept it from the police. ‘Give me a phone call,’ he said. ‘Let
me call my parents, and they’ll get me a lawyer.’

Rico was allowed a phone call. He called his father and tried to start
explaining what had happened, but his father told him not to say a word,
and in less than thirty minutes his mother and father arrived at the station.
He could hear his father before he could see him.
‘If any of you put a hand on him I’m having you. He’s no terrorist and
you know it. I’m telling you lot, treat him with respect.’
When they entered the room Lena ran straight to Rico and hugged him.
Stefan continued to speak loudly.
‘Rico, have any of them touched you? Don’t be afraid to say, now. Have
any of them laid a hand on you?’
‘No,’ replied Rico over his mother’s shoulder.
‘Right,’ said Stefan. ‘We’re going to get you a lawyer and we’re going to
get you out of here.’
‘Have you eaten?’ asked Lena.
‘Yes, Mum,’ replied Rico.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Stefan.
‘Yes, Dad,’ said Rico. ‘I don’t need anything to eat, I just want you to
know I didn’t blow that place up.’
‘We know,’ said Lena. ‘You don’t have to tell us that.’
 ‘That’s right,’ said Stefan. ‘You don’t have to tell us that.’
‘I’ve got nothing to hide,’ said Rico. ‘I’m going to tell them everything I
know. I didn’t do it.’
‘Play it by the book, son,’ said Stefan. ‘Just do what you have to do and
we’ll get you out of here.’ He turned to DI Kennedy. ‘Hey, you,’ he said,
pointing his finger. ‘You can’t question him until he has a lawyer. You know
that, don’t you?’
‘Do you have a lawyer?’
‘No. Never needed one. But we’ll get one.’
‘We can help you find one, if you would like us to.’
‘No, thanks; we would not like you to. We don’t need any help from you.
We’ll find someone for him.’ He turned to Rico. ‘Just hang on. We’re going
home now and we’re going to find the best lawyer around. Nothing but the
best. That’s what you’ll get.’

Rico’s parents left and he was taken to a cell accompanied by four

uniformed officers. Outside the cell they took the laces out of Rico’s shoes,
and the belt from his trousers. For the first ten minutes he stood in the
centre of the cell and looked around. On the ceiling he saw more small
black balls containing cameras, and as he scanned the cold, grey concrete
walls he wondered how long such walls would surround him. To the left of
him there was a toilet, and to the right of him there was a slab that
protruded from the wall, with a pillow-shaped hump. It took him a minute
to realise it was a bed. He went over to lie down, but when he put his head
on the ‘pillow’ the smell of the toilet opposite the bed overcame him and he
stood up immediately. He shook his head and exhaled through his mouth
and went back and stood in the middle of the cell. There he stood for over
an hour before the cell door opened and he was led away to another room.
This room was a little more comfortable than all the other rooms he had
seen. The walls had posters advertising volunteering groups, mental health
organisations, dyslexia organisations, domestic violence helplines and drug
addiction helplines. He was told to sit down on one of the three leather
chairs that were placed around a desk, and he was left alone. Two minutes
later a young, smartly dressed black man entered. In one hand he was
carrying a small computer case, in the other a grey folder. He walked
straight up to Rico and reached over the desk to shake his hand.
 ‘Hello, Rico. My name’s Jackson Jones. I’ve been asked to represent you.
Is that OK with you?
He was polite and gently spoken, but Rico was cautious.
‘Did the police send you?’
‘No. I can assure you that the police have not sent me. I received a phone
call from your father, Mr Stefan Federico. Can I sit down?’
‘Of course.’
Jackson Jones sat on a chair to the side of Rico. He took his computer out
of its case and put it on the table. He opened his folder and took out some
papers that he also placed on the table.
‘You are now going to be interviewed. I will be here with you all the
time, but it’s really important that you understand what your rights are. If
you feel that you don’t want to answer a question, or that you can’t answer
a question, simply say “no comment.” If you don’t understand a question,
just ask for the question to be repeated. Don’t feel intimidated by the
jargon; if for any reason you are confused, refer to me. Like I said, I will be
here all the time, and I’m here for you. If I feel that a question is
unnecessary, unreasonable or unfair, I will intervene. Is that all clear?’
‘Yes,’ replied Rico. Jackson’s confidence helped ease Rico’s confusion.
The future was still unsure, but at least now he had someone on his side
who knew the law.

Jackson Jones left the room and called in DI Kennedy. The officer entered,
sat right in front of Rico and put a CD recording device on the table. He
turned it on, and as soon as Jackson Jones sat down the officer started his
questioning. For the records he stated his name, the time and date, then
addressed Rico.
‘We have reason to believe that you, possibly with the help of others,
delivered a bomb to Lloyd House police headquarters. The bomb had a
timer that was set to go off at a given time, and it did, killing nine people
and seriously injuring many others. But we’ll come to that in a while. First,
can you tell me what your religion is?’
Jackson Jones intervened straight away. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any
reason for you to know my client’s religion. Is that question relevant?’
‘We believe that the people behind the bombing were religious fanatics,
so it would help to know if he has any religious beliefs.’
 Jackson Jones turned Rico. ‘It’s up to you if you want to answer.’
‘I’ll answer,’ said Rico. ‘My parents are Orthodox Christian, but I’ve
never been to church.’
‘So being an Orthodox Christian doesn’t mean anything to you then?’
said DI Kennedy.
‘Not a thing.’
‘Is that why you converted to Islam?’
Rico’s eyes shot wide open. He fell back into the chair. ‘What? Where
have you got that from? I haven’t converted to Islam.’
‘Your friend Karima Yussuf – she’s a Muslim, isn’t she?’
‘Is she?’ replied Rico.
‘You know she is. She’s a powerful girl, isn’t she? She’s got a strong will,
she’s got drive and she’s got personality. Did she convert you?’
‘I’m not sure if she’s a Muslim, and she didn’t convert me. Where is
she?’
‘Do you miss her?’
‘None of your business.’
‘Was she your girlfriend?’
‘No, and that’s none of your business either.’

Rico was then questioned about his love of computers, his previous arrests
and his attitude towards authority. DI Kennedy’s strategy was to try to get
Rico to open up about himself, but Rico was always on his guard, and
although Jackson Jones looked young, he was confident and not
intimidated. Rico was happy that Jackson was there to intervene.
DI Kennedy leaned back on his chair until it was on two legs, stretched,
then let the chair drop back onto four legs again and rested his elbows on
the table.
‘Right. You got arrested during the riots, you were taken in, and you were
questioned by Detective Constable Glen Holland. You were released
without charge, but you were pretty angry with DC Holland. You knew his
daughter Michelle, she was in the same class as you at school; somehow
you worked out when he would be at the front desk, probably using your
computer wizardry, and you and your friends got together and exacted
revenge. Not just on DC Holland, but on the other officers who died that
day, and the whole system as you see it. That’s how it is, isn’t it, Rico? We
know what you have done, we know why you have done it – so just own up
and let’s get this over with. Things will work out easier for you if you make
it easier for us.’

Rico was stunned. He felt as if the ground was moving below him. He took
a deep breath and looked around the room. He hadn’t realised that Michelle
Holland’s dad was a cop – he didn’t really know Michelle Holland – but he
could see horribly clearly why the officer was thinking the way he was. DC
Holland was the officer who questioned him on the night of the riots. He
could see that if they thought Karima was an angry Muslim militant, and he
was her boyfriend, then they would think that he had a motive. He hung his
head and tried to keep calm so he could gather his thoughts and think
clearly. Then he raised his head, looked straight at the officer and spoke.
‘OK. I’m going to tell you everything.’
The officer adjusted the recording device so it was closer to Rico, and
smiled with satisfaction. Jackson turned to Rico.
‘I suggest that we have a moment to speak in private. You don’t have to
say anything right now.’
‘No,’ said Rico. ‘I know what I’m doing. Yes, I’m guilty. I’m guilty of
digital trespass, and hacktivism, and I’m guilty of keeping secrets, but I’m
not guilty of terrorism. I don’t like cops, and they don’t like me, but I’m not
guilty of murder or terrorism. So let’s talk. I’m ready.’
‘You really don’t have to speak,’ said Jackson urgently.
‘I want to speak,’ replied Rico. ‘I am not a terrorist and I have nothing to
hide. I’m not a bad person, I’m not evil. So let’s talk.’
The officer sat back in his chair. Jackson took notes, and Rico told the
story once again. He ended by saying, ‘I’ve done some bad things, I’ve told
some lies. I’ve done all kinds of stuff, but I didn’t deliver, plan, or even
know about that bomb.’
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 23

Free Speech

After Rico had told DI Kennedy everything he knew, he endured two hours
of relentless questioning; Jackson Jones needed to intervene frequently, and
the questioning only stopped once for a short break after Rico had asked for
a drink of water. Rico answered all the questions as best he could; he was
steadfast and not intimidated by the process. He knew that he was telling
the truth. Despite everything that Rico said, the officer was still convinced
that Rico, fuelled by his anger against the police and inspired by the
charisma of Karima, had masterminded the bombing. The officer told Rico
that they had checked hours of CCTV footage, all the telephone calls on
Rico’s mobile and house phone, and conducted detailed forensic
examinations of his computers and belongings, and as far as they were
concerned there was absolutely no evidence of the existence of an adult
called Speech. It was then that it dawned on Rico that the reason Speech
didn’t carry a phone was because it would let him be traced. He began to
tell the officer his thoughts when the officer interrupted him, banging the
table with the side of his fist.
‘Look, Rico, we’ve looked at your computer history and we know that
you hacked into your school website. Even before you supposedly ever met
this Speech person you hacked into a bank, the local council, the NHS
computer systems and Birmingham Airport’s website, and you did that all
on your own.’
‘You’re right,’ Rico shouted back. ‘I did, but that was just me messing
around, that was just me being nosy. Can’t you see that I’ve been set up?’
‘You haven’t been set up. You’ve done the setting up!’ shouted DI
Kennedy.
‘No, I’ve been set up!’ Rico shouted.
 ‘You set it up, and we’re going to prove it,’ said the officer even louder.
Jackson threw his pen onto the table. ‘That’s it. I suggest we have a
break. I need to consult my client.’
‘Very well,’ said DI Kennedy, standing up and walking out. ‘Twenty
minutes.’

When the officer had left, Rico burst out.

‘I’m sorry if I’m not doing this properly, but I just want to get it all out.
I’ll tell them all they want to know, because I know if they get Speech this
nightmare will all be over.’
‘I understand,’ said Jackson. ‘However, I have to tell you that the
protocol is that you simply answer questions that you are asked and don’t
just offer up information. But I understand this is very emotional for you.’
‘That’s right. It’s emotional, and I just want it to be over with.’
‘Are you happy to carry on with the interview?’ asked Jackson.
‘I wouldn’t call it happy, but I want to carry on.’
‘OK,’ said Jackson. ‘As you say, but I won’t let them carry on too long.’
‘What do you think will happen?’ asked Rico nervously.
‘It’s difficult to tell. They’ll probably charge you with some computer
crime so they can hold you and continue investigations.’
Rico thought for a moment. ‘Well, that might give them time to find the
truth.’
There was a pause. Rico took a good look at Jackson and then asked, ‘So
are you an expert in this thing then?
‘What thing?’
‘This terrorism thing.’
‘Not really,’ replied Jackson. ‘When I was at school I saw a lot of
injustice, especially with young people. I saw how kids could be abused,
exploited and misrepresented. I even saw a teacher get killed, and I wanted
to do something about it, so I studied law. I now specialise in defending
young people.’
‘So how do you know my dad then?’ asked Rico.
‘I didn’t. Not until today,’ replied Jackson. ‘I’m a friend of your sister,
Lola. We studied at the same university. She called your dad, your dad said
he needed a lawyer, so he called me, and I came straight away. By the way,
Lola asked me to say hello. She said she’ll come to see you as soon as she
can.’
Rico looked around the room as he tried to put it all together in his head.
Then a uniformed officer put her head around the door and said, ‘Can you
finish up, please?’
‘We’re just finishing now,’ said Jackson.

DI Kennedy entered the room, sat down on his chair and turned on the
recorder. Another officer stood at the door.
‘Right,’ said DI Kennedy. ‘The good news is, I’m going to end this
interview. The bad news,’ he continued, ‘is that you are going to be
charged.’
Rico’s eyes widened in shock and darted from the officer to Jackson, and
from Jackson back to the officer.
Jackson spoke. ‘I take it that these charges relate to computer crime.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said the officer. ‘Rico Federico, I am formally charging
you with the murder of Detective Constable Glen Holland, and committing
an act of terrorism.’
‘What?’ shouted Rico.
‘This is outrageous,’ said Jackson.
‘I’m afraid this is the way it is,’ said DI Kennedy. ‘We have consulted the
Crown Prosecution Service, and they have agreed with our analysis that
there is enough evidence to charge. I have to say at this point that there is a
high possibility that further charges will follow.’
Rico could not take his eyes from the officer. He felt like screaming, he
felt rage, he felt anger, but all he could do was stare, panicking, as DI
Kennedy turned off his recorder and began to leave the room.
As he reached the door he turned back and said, ‘You’ve got ten
minutes.’

Rico’s eyes stayed on the door after it had closed behind the officer. Jackson
gave him time to gather his thoughts. Rico shook his head slowly and
turned to Jackson.
‘So what happens now?’
‘They’ll keep you in custody until you appear in court, and I will start
preparing your defence.’
 ‘You’d better go then,’ said Rico despondently.

Jackson gathered his papers together, put his laptop in its case. He stood up
and looked down at Rico, who was now sitting hunched with his head
bowed.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Jackson. ‘We’re going to do the best we can for you.’
‘When will I see you again?’ asked Rico.
‘I will come back tomorrow and we can talk about the individual charges
and how you choose to plead. Then on Monday morning you’ll be in court.
It will be a very short court hearing, but I’m going to try to get bail for you.
It will be difficult, but I’ll try.’
He reached forward and shook Rico’s hand.
‘Thanks. Thanks a lot,’ said Rico.
Jackson picked up his papers and laptop and left. Rico gazed at the walls
surrounding him. He was alone with his many thoughts racing around his
mind.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 24

Friends Disunited

Rico was not alone for long; soon DI Kennedy entered the room with
another officer. An officer Rico had not seen before. They were both
smiling in a way that made Rico feel uneasy.
‘Right, let’s take you away.’
Rico stood up and they took him by his arms and led him towards the
cells – but they walked past the cells and came to the door of another room.
The new officer unlocked the door, tapped Rico on his shoulder and said,
‘Wait in here for a while. It’s much better than those cells.’
Rico walked in. He thought the room was empty, but then he saw Karima
sitting on the floor in a corner.
‘Karima!’ Rico shouted.
Karima didn’t say anything; she just stood up and walked towards Rico.
As she walked towards him, Rico opened his arms to hug her, but she hit
him in his left eye with a punch so fast Rico did not see it coming. He saw
stars. As he cupped his face in his hands he felt a kick to his ribcage that
threw him to the ground. Rico curled up into a ball and Karima sat on him
and began pounding his head and back with her fists, shouting, ‘You
supposed to be my friend, brov. What you been saying about me? What
kind of rubbish you been telling the cops, hey? Hey? You supposed to be
my friend.’
Rico was so overwhelmed that he couldn’t find the energy to speak. He
had neither air in his lungs nor space to move. He could not match Karima’s
kick-boxing, but he also knew she could knock him out if he just stayed
down and did nothing. Using all the strength he had, he forced himself to
his feet with Karima still going at him, but he managed to stagger into a
corner and shout.
 ‘What have I done?’
Karima stood back. ‘You know what you’ve done.’ She then delivered a
kick to his leg that made him want to go back down, but by sheer will he
stayed on his feet.
‘Karima – stop, listen. I haven’t said anything,’ Rico pleaded.
Karima, still in kick-box stance as if waiting to strike, shouted, ‘So since
when did I convert you to Islam then?’
‘I never said that – and you know I wouldn’t.’
‘And when did I ask you about how to make bombs then?’
‘I didn’t say that, Karima, either. Honestly.’
‘I told you I’m not interested in burning anything up any more.’
‘I know. I know. Honestly, I didn’t say anything about that stuff.’
They looked at each other. Karima’s eyes were red and wet with tears of
anger. Rico’s eye was purple and already beginning to swell.
‘Karima,’ said Rico, with one hand covering his eye and the other
pointing towards the ceiling. ‘Can’t you see? Look around you. Cameras
are everywhere. This is a set-up. They put us together to see if we would
start talking.’
Karima looked up and around at the cameras on the ceiling. Rico
continued.
‘Why would they put us together? Why wouldn’t they come and stop us
from fighting?’
Karima looked at the pitiful state that Rico was in – not just at the
damage that she had done to him, but at his broken spirit. She then went
back to sit in the corner and said, ‘I think you’re right. I’m sorry, brov. I’m
just messed up at the moment. Nothing makes sense.’
Rico looked down at Karima in the corner. To him her spirit looked
broken too. He went over and sat next to her, and for a while they both sat
in silence until Rico spoke.
‘They’re watching us.’
‘I know,’ said Karima.
‘All we have to do is tell the truth, right?’ said Rico.
‘That’s right, brov. The truth. That should do the job.’
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 Chapter 25

Judgement Days

The next day, Rico had another meeting with his lawyer. Karima also had a
visit from a lawyer, who had been recommended to her by a local law
centre, but Karima and Rico were kept apart until they stood next to each
other in court on Monday morning. The court was packed with members of
Karima’s family, the press and Rico’s family, including Lola and Kim. Lola
was sitting between her parents, the three of them holding hands.
It was a quick hearing. Rico and Karima confirmed their names,
addresses and ages, and their lawyers entered their pleas. Karima pleaded
not guilty to all the charges and Rico pleaded not guilty to handling
explosives, and not guilty to nine charges of murder. But he did plead guilty
to computer hacking. They were both remanded in custody until their
appearance in the Crown Court.
Both were detained in the same high-security youth unit. Although they
were never allowed to see each other, they were both subject to rule 43, a
rule that kept suspected terrorists separated from other prisoners for their
own protection. They saw newspaper stories about themselves where their
capture was seen as a victory in the war on terror. Journalists were
investigating the histories of their families, and they both felt helpless,
unable to defend themselves or their relatives from the intrusion. Some
newspapers portrayed them as evil, fanatical young people, and to a whole
range of extreme groups they were heroes. Karima and Rico thought they
were none of these things.

On the day of the Crown Court hearing, Jackson Jones was there to support
Rico, but his firm had employed Michael Fieldsman, the country’s best-
known human rights barrister, to represent him. Before they went into the
courtroom, Michael Fieldsman had a meeting with Rico where he explained
that he had spoken to his parents, and was dedicated to representing him
because he had examined the case and believed that Rico had been
exploited. He promised to tell Rico’s story as best he could. He also said
that he felt this was so important that he would waive his fee.
Michael Fieldsman presented Rico’s case with so much passion and
attention to detail that it sounded as if he was a witness to it all. He had
done a survey of the area and was able to show exactly where the street
cameras were. He argued that the reason Speech had restricted their
movements when they met was because he was avoiding the street cameras.
They were always in camera blind spots. He called Ana as a witness, and
she told the court that she did have a birthday just after the date of the
explosion, and that her dream was to start a dressmaking business. She had
no idea who Speech was, but her birthday was on a couple of social
networking sites. When Speech had asked Rico to build the website and
then check for his speeding ticket, he was just testing Rico; he wanted to
see how good his computer skills were. The car registration number he’d
given didn’t even exist. Michael Fieldsman summed up his defence of Rico
by telling the court that, like Michael Fieldsman himself, Rico was someone
who wanted to see justice in the world. He was someone who wanted to do
something about injustice. He urged the court to see that it was Rico’s
idealism that had been exploited, allowing him to be tricked and
manipulated, and that he had committed a crime, but he was not a terrorist
or a mass murderer.
After all the evidence from both the prosecution and defence had been
presented to the court, the jury gave their verdict. Karima was found not
guilty of all charges, and released with immediate effect, and Rico was
found not guilty of handling explosives, not guilty of nine counts of murder,
but guilty of unlawful use of a computer, and unauthorised computer access.
He was sentenced to twelve months in youth custody. When he heard the
sentence Rico showed no emotion. He was relieved that the court realised
that he really wasn’t a terrorist, and he accepted that twelve months was
much better than a life sentence – but there was nothing to celebrate. He
looked around and saw and heard members of his family breathing sighs of
relief. His mother nodded her head just a little, his father wiped his forehead
with his hand, and Lola gave a small smile. It was bittersweet. As Rico
finished scanning the courtroom it hit home how they were all there
because of him. He looked back to his family and as he thought about all
the trouble he had caused them his eyes began to fill with tears, but just
then two police officers grabbed his arms and he was led out of the court.

Karima went home with her family. Rico went to jail. They transported him
from the court in a small cell in a secure van. As they left the court a horde
of press photographers ran after the van putting their cameras to the
windows, desperate to get an image of him, but as the van gathered speed
they were left standing. Rico looked back out of a darkened window to see
curious members of the public looking his way. He watched as they got
smaller, but then the last person he saw, standing impassively as if he was a
passer-by who just happened to be there, was Speech. Rico’s heart skipped
a beat. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, and then watched as
Speech became smaller and smaller, and disappeared. Rico let his anger go,
sat down in his mobile prison, and began to think about all the things he
would never do again.
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 Hope and Fear

I was militant and lonely

When my innocence was battered;
There was no one to hold me
When the hope I had was shattered.
My city and my life in flames
All our foundations shaking;
Fake people playing deadly games –
Not fire of my making.

I too have suffered terror

It came to me in person;
I made a drastic error –
Now I must bear the burden,
I was shaken by the horror –
Don’t mock my immaturity;
For in my darkest hour –
I was tricked into this tragedy.

This tragedy has broken me,

I struggle to communicate,
I’m trying to hold my sanity –
Their bombs do not discriminate –
This tragedy keeps killing me,
My self-esteem must be rebuilt,
I used to dream of being free –
Now I am filled with fear and guilt.

I must rise up and forward on

And overcome the guilt and fear,
Now my innocence has gone
And I must serve my sentence here;
I too have suffered terror,
And I still dream of being free,
But I promise to do better –
And not let evil conquer me.
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 About the Author

Benjamin Zephaniah was born and raised in Handsworth, Birmingham. By

the age of fifteen he had gained a reputation as a young poet who was
capable of speaking out on local and international issues. His poetry was
strongly influenced by the music and poetry of Jamaica and what he called
‘street politics’. He is also a musician and was the first person to record
with the Wailers after the death of Bob Marley.

As well as writing poetry, novels for teenagers, screenplays and stage plays,
he has also written and presented documentaries for television and radio,
and he has been awarded sixteen honorary doctorates in recognition of his
work. He is now a professor of Poetry and Creative Writing at Brunel
University and lives in Lincolnshire. To find out more about Benjamin, go
to www.benjaminzephaniah.com or follow him on Twitter: @BZephaniah

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ALSO BY BENJAMIN ZEPHANIAH

Face
Refugee Boy
Gangsta Rap
Teacher’s Dead
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 First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Hot Key Books
Northburgh House, 10 Northburgh Street, London EC1V 0AT

Copyright © Benjamin Zephaniah 2014

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any
form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise,
without the prior written permission of the publisher.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-4714-0178-7

www.hotkeybooks.com

Hot Key Books is part of the Bonnier Publishing Group

www.bonnierpublishing.com

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