Hotwire

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Hotwire Page 3

by Cindy M. Hogan


  “So, it’s a plan then,” I said, forcing a smile. I stood up from the table, hoping that would be enough to quell any further conversation. “It’s getting pretty late. I think we all need some sleep.”

  “It is a little late for a child to be up,” Halluis said, slipping back into his usual teasing tone. “Let’s get you in bed before your parents find out.” He smirked at me, and I shot him a truly grateful smile. It was good of him to let it go, let things get back to normal. Whatever that meant for a bunch of spies.

  Chapter 4

  I spent the weekend studying everything the team had collected on Jericho and Mikado, plus just general information about the school and the teachers whose classes I’d be in. For good measure, I studied up on engineering as well. Amber, my alias, would have had to pass tests and qualify to attend the school, so I couldn’t come in looking completely clueless. Not for the first time, I had reason to be grateful for my photographic memory. Even with that skill, after an entire Saturday of cramming my head full of facts, I was exhausted and ready for a break.

  I’d considered going sight-seeing on Sunday, since it was probably the only chance I’d get, but the boys were busy with mission preparations—conveniently ducking my invitation to visit Chinatown—and Jeremy was nowhere to be found. When I thought about it, I realized I didn’t want to go sight-seeing on my own. What I really wanted was to go to church. I recognized that it was pretty weird for a spy to want to attend church, but I found so much peace there, peace that wasn’t found in my job. I probably wouldn’t get a chance to go once the mission began, so it felt all the more important to take this opportunity now.

  After the service, I was feeling much more at peace with the task in front of me. If only I could impart a little of that peace to Jeremy. When I returned to the brownstone, he was back, poring over information in the conference room. I watched him from the door. Tension was evident in the way he hunched his strong shoulders and the way he bit down on his knuckles whenever he wasn’t typing. I wished I could pull him into a hug, but I wasn’t sure such a gesture would be entirely welcome. Sure, we’d been through so much together, but he was my mission leader—and I’d never seen him hug Halluis or Ace.

  “Jeremy,” I said gently, trying not to startle him. He turned and looked at me, and the circles beneath his reassuring eyes made it clear that he had hardly slept. His strong jaw sported the perfect five o’clock shadow. I sighed. “It’s going to be okay,” I said. “You can trust me. I really can do this. Don’t you know that by now?”

  Jeremy opened his mouth, then shook his head. “It’s not that—I do trust you.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Then, why so worried?”

  He just shook his head again. “Forget about it. You’re gonna be great. You always are.”

  I smiled, but inside I was still perplexed. There was something he wasn’t saying. I wished I knew how to break past that stoic barrier. “Thanks, Jeremy. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

  ***

  Bright and early Monday morning, I took the crowded subway to the school and made my way to the auto engineering outbuilding.

  It was a single-story building directly behind the school, sandwiched inside a block of brownstones. Two adjacent brownstones had been remodeled into the A. G. Bell Engineering Academy. A narrow driveway led from the street to a small parking garage below the outbuilding and to a small, paved, open space where students could hang out on breaks and at lunch. I still had a hard time accepting that it was a school. I was used to the sprawling campuses in the west and south and had never attended a school in a huge metropolitan city.

  New Yorkers were magicians with space. Every inch everywhere was used to maximum capacity. The block surrounding the school was full of residential brownstones and small businesses. There was no football field, no soccer field, and certainly no baseball field. These private schools didn’t offer extracurricular sports, so none was needed. Of course, Central Park was only a block away, so no one could complain about green space.

  If you wanted your kids to become something, it was pretty much a necessity to send them to a private school of some sort. Parents actually put their kids on waiting lists from the time they were born to get into the school they thought best. A.G. Bell Academy prepared kids with either the aptitude or the fortitude to become some type of engineer.

  I tugged at the uncomfortable uniform I had to wear: a starched white button-up shirt, tucked crisply into a red and blue plaid wool skirt. Knee-high socks and ridiculously shiny Mary Janes polished off the ensemble. My long, straight hair had been dyed red, and I wore it up in a high ponytail.

  I’d gone to the school early, my go bag disguised as a high schooler’s backpack, hoping to get a chance to snoop around in Mr. Shareweather’s office, adjacent to the auto engineering outbuilding. However, as I approached the squat building, I realized my hope for some alone time was in vain. I could hear muffled voices coming from the building as I walked past some windows. I groaned inwardly. Was detention or an early study hall held in the building each morning? At least I could listen in and maybe learn a little more about Shareweather. Ace’s algorithm hadn’t tagged him, so there wasn’t any surveillance data on him. All I’d been able to learn about him was what was in his official school file, and that hadn’t been too helpful.

  I stepped lightly toward the outside door of his office. A careful tug on the door handle proved it was locked. I tried the back door. Locked. I searched for an open window. I didn’t find one, but I could see into the shop area because some blinds had been damaged, the thin metal slats sticking out in an odd way.

  I put my nose up to the closed window, careful not to let my uniform brush up against the dirty outer wall, and watched as Mr. Shareweather spoke to a small class of students. His thick, bushy, salt-and-pepper hair clashed slightly with his more youthful brownish-red mustache and beard, although his well-trimmed beard did fade to gray and white near the ends. He seemed to have a permanent worried look on his face, making his eyes seem smaller than they already were. The creases in his deeply tanned forehead seemed more like the mountains one might find on an eighty-year-old man and not one who was fifty, tops.

  I watched as he stepped toward a nearby car door and demonstrated what no ethical teacher should: how to break into a car that didn’t have a smart key. I smiled inwardly: I’d found S-Dub. I didn’t even need to hear what he was saying, I knew the movements. It hadn’t been that long ago that I had learned to do that very thing as part of my training for this mission.

  I wished desperately I was still connected to the team over com. I would have loved in that moment to gloat to Halluis over this little triumph. Score another one for Christy. Of course, it was completely impractical to have a com device in my ear at school—even a subtle one could be spotted and cause me no end of trouble. I wore a wire, though, so the team was listening in back at headquarters. I resisted the urge to whisper “Ha!”—it would have been unprofessional. I didn’t want to undermine my team’s confidence in me.

  I turned my focus back to the classroom. There was a small group of kids gathered around S-Dub’s hulking mass—seven in all. After his demonstration, five students practiced on several different cars while two other students seemed to be helping them, mentoring them. One of them had this strut. He was one confident guy.

  It wasn’t like the building could house a bunch of cars, but it had sections of cars throughout the room. Five students were male and two female. I scanned five faces quickly, committing them to memory. The two student mentors never turned toward me, so I wasn’t able to memorize their faces. I had to memorize their clothing and build instead. Neither Jericho nor Mikado was present. Maybe they were in the advanced class, I thought ruefully.

  They all shouted out once they figured it out and were successful. I watched, wondering if S-Dub would teach them something I didn’t know. As S-Dub’s formidable shape moved toward one student, a waif-like girl, she visibly trembled. Apparently, she�
��d been unable to start even one of the simplest of cars. I’d be a bit scared if he were stomping toward me, too.

  A light went on in the building behind the school. As it did, Mr. Shareweather walked in front of the section of windows I was looking through, and though he was a good twenty feet from me, my shadow fell across his face. I took a sharp breath. He paused, turning his head in my direction.

  Crap! I ducked and then cruised out of there without a sound. For about half a second, I thought I should stick around and pretend I had only been curious about what was going on, but I was sure S-Dub wouldn’t stand for that. If he was the car gang’s leader, he’d be too smart to believe that. Instead I ran, heading for the corner of the building.

  My heart thundered as I ran, adrenaline and training making me fast. Once I’d made it into the narrow alleyway next to the outbuilding, I heard the back door to the shop click open and the pounding of feet headed my way. My whole body was on alert, all muscles tight and ready to fight. I sprinted along the side of the building and ran without a sound around the other corner to get to the front of the building and get the heck out of there. Had others beside Mr. Shareweather caught a glimpse of me? I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. I was about to round the corner to the front of the building when I heard feet inside the building pounding my way. I looked at the door at the front of the building. I was cornered.

  S-Dub was smart. I couldn’t double back to the back of the building, and I couldn’t escape anywhere from the side I was on—I was surrounded by buildings that I couldn’t enter. And from the sounds of pounding feet, I wouldn’t have time to run to the front of the building and slip into the small parking garage either. I licked my lips and tasted the salt of sweat beading on my upper lip.

  In a rush, I looked all around; my only option was to climb the rain gutter spout. I wiggled it. It was old. Would it support my weight? I had to chance it. I jumped up as far as I could and shimmied up the pipe, sure my white button-up shirt was getting all kinds of dirty. I cut my hand on one of the brackets that braced the pipe to the building, but I couldn’t stop and check it out. I bit down on the pain and pulled myself further up the pipe, feeling my skirt get caught on the same bracket I’d cut my hand on. I was almost to the roof. The sound of feet from the back of the building pounded nearer, and the door just to the side of where I was opened wide. They’d be upon me any second. I pulled hard, hearing the skirt rip. I gripped the edge of the roof just as my pursuers rounded the corner. I could feel their presence below me, hear their heavy breathing.

  I didn’t dare move. One sound and they’d look up. My arm strained, and my grip loosened as sweat slicked my hand. I closed my eyes and said a prayer that no one would look up. The two groups of kids were directly below me.

  “No one’s here,” one male voice said.

  “S-Dub’s imagining things.” Someone kicked a rock and sent it rolling down the sidewalk.

  “He usually doesn’t do that.” There was scorn in this boy’s voice. “He’s got a sharp eye.”

  I could feel them looking all around.

  Please don’t look up! I glanced at my white-knuckled hand and its precarious hold on the edge of the roof, my other gripping the pipe. I watched helplessly as a drop of blood pooled on the edge of my hand and then dropped to the ground right behind one of the kids, barely missing his head.

  “Let’s get back in,” the first voice chimed in. “We’ve only got half an hour to perfect this. Tonight’s the night, and we won’t have another chance. We can’t let S-Dub down.”

  I heard murmurs of assent and footsteps moving toward the front of the building just as my hand slipped. I pressed my legs hard into the pole and pushed my shoes even harder into the brick exterior of the building, latching my now-loose hand on the pole in hopes of gaining some stability. I held my breath until I was sure they’d had enough time to get back inside. With renewed effort, I made my way down the pole and, once on the ground, with utmost stealth, I made my way into the parking garage to wait it out.

  Chapter 5

  Blood dripped from the deep cut on my hand. I ripped my dirty shirt and wrapped the strip of cloth around the gash, hoping to stem the tide. It stung. Leaning against the cement wall, out of the path of the masses walking on the sidewalk, I thought about what I’d seen and heard. Tonight’s the night. What were they doing tonight? Stealing cars? Putting their learning to good use? I waited ten anxious minutes before venturing back out of the garage and melting into the foot traffic on the sidewalk.

  I walked casually, bumping along the crowded sidewalk to the next block. The noise of the city pressed in on me: people chatted on phones, vendors shouted, and obviously frustrated drivers honked their horns, urging the cars in front of them to drive faster even though it was impossible. I ducked into a little alcove, trying to muffle some of the noise and pulled out my phone. I cringed a little as I dialed Jeremy. The day had barely even started and I was already calling for help. It definitely dulled a little of the triumph I’d felt at being right about S-Dub. There was nothing for it, though—I needed a new uniform, not to mention some mild medical attention. I bit my lip and hit call.

  A few minutes later, Jeremy met me near a subway hole, a bag of supplies in his hand.

  It might have been my imagination, but it seemed he was barely containing the urge to shout, “I told you so.” This was not how this day was supposed to go at all. I was supposed to be calming Jeremy’s fears, showing him I had this mission easily under control. Instead, my disheveled uniform and gashed hand must have screamed, “She’s completely inept!” I didn’t think it would help if I explained that it was quick thinking and pretty amazing physical prowess that had helped me avoid getting caught. The fact was I’d nearly blown my cover in the first half hour of the mission. Not good.

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Christy,” Jeremy’s voice cut into my thoughts, taking me by surprise. Had he read my mind? “Things go wrong sometimes. You handled yourself well, though. That took some quick thinking not to get made.”

  “Thanks,” I said, hesitantly. Had I misread his facial expression? I thought he’d be ready to lay on the lecture, but he hadn’t.

  “Come on. Let’s take care of that hand.” We walked to the park and sat on a secluded bench. He numbed my hand and stitched it up. He worked quickly with strong, expert hands.

  “It wasn’t as deep as I’d thought when you first showed it to me.”

  “Yeah, the blood made it seem worse than it really was. It barely even hurts.”

  “Next task,” Jeremy said, holding up a bag with fresh clothes and nodding to a nearby café. “You can get changed in there.”

  He ordered a coffee and a croissant, and I ducked into the restroom with the bag he’d brought. I changed into the new uniform and changed my hairstyle. I’d had my hair in a tight ponytail, and now it hung loose about my face. Instead of the white button-up shirt, plaid wool skirt, and knee socks, I now wore solid khaki pants and a navy blue polo shirt. If anything, this getup was even worse than the last. I felt like an idiot, but we didn’t want to chance the auto engineering teacher or any of the kids identifying me from the quick glance they may have gotten at the shop. Sometimes it took seeing someone again to figure out you’d seen them before.

  “Now that we know Shareweather is our man,” Jeremy said, “all you need to do is find an in.”

  “I saw two girls in the classroom this morning. S-Dub was training them to break into cheaper cars. I think they might be my way in. I’ll befriend them and play up the poor-me-I-need-money angle and see if they won’t get me an audience with S-Dub. I’ll also make myself sympathetic to him when I have his class, making sure he knows I could use some extra cash. If he’s looking for new recruits, maybe he’ll approach me.”

  “I like the sound of that a lot better than you getting mixed up with those boys.”

  “Me, too.” I shook my head and tried to ignore the throbbing that had begun in my hand.

  “I’v
e asked Halluis to start shadowing you.”

  “What? Jeremy, I do not need—” I could feel heat rising in my chest.

  He spoke over my objections. “Look, if you’re getting involved with this group that involves Mikado and Jericho, then I’d like a little more assurance of your safety than a wire and an electronic feed.”

  I grimaced, but kept my voice low to avoid being overheard. “Jeremy, my safety is not the number one concern. I am a spy. Not a witness, not an asset—a spy. I don’t need any extra protection. I can complete this mission without being babysat.”

  “No one is babysitting you. To be honest, Halluis needs something to do. I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s been a little—tense, lately. I think he needs to feel more involved in the day-to-day aspect of the mission, or he’s going to go insane. He’s making me insane, at the very least.”

  I narrowed my eyes. It felt like an excuse, but there wasn’t any more time to argue about it now. “Fine.” My voice was flat, and I hoped he heard the irritation in it.

  “I knew you’d see it my way. You should be fine at school—provided you avoid climbing up any more walls—but anywhere else, Halluis will be shadowing you.”

  I sighed.

  He smiled. “Go get ‘em.”

  ***

  Checking in with the office and picking up my class schedule made me late to second period, which turned out to be a very bad thing. And if I thought being the new kid at the school was going to help me, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I was now the center of attention.

  The meanest, most old-fashioned teacher in the world peered down at my excuse note over her boondoggled glasses. I smiled my best smile, but she didn’t reach out for the note. Instead, in her clipped, proper voice, she said, “Miss Smith, seeing as this is your first day of school here at the academy I would have expected you to show up on time. I do not like to be interrupted. I would appreciate you waiting outside the door until I am finished directing the class.”

 

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