I blinked, not quite sure what she meant. I decided my best course of action was to wait in the hall until she invited me back in, possibly after giving the class instructions? I let the arm holding the note fall to my side and backed up, out of the classroom. She watched me intently until I slipped around the corner where she couldn’t see me. I sighed and resigned myself to waiting until she was finished directing the class.
I soon learned, however, that by directing she must have meant lecturing, and she wasn’t going to finish at all.
Listening to her gravelly voice made me sleepy, so I slid down the wall and closed my eyes. Next thing I knew, students rushed by me with quick steps, never quite running, because that would be bad here at A.G. Bell Academy.
Before I’d quite gotten my bearings, a hand was thrust into my face. “Need some help?”
I looked up to find a boy with piercing blue eyes that contrasted nicely with his caramel-colored skin, dark, obviously professionally sculpted eyebrows, and very short hair. I blinked twice. I started to reach up with my injured hand, but thought better of it and gave him my left instead. He was strong, and I popped quickly to my feet.
“I’m Viktor.” He looked me hard in the eyes.
“Amber.”
“Ms. Milner is awful, isn’t she?”
“You could say that.” I shifted from one foot to the other, wondering when he planned on letting my hand go. His glassy blue eyes traveled over my body appraisingly.
“Uh, I better get going. I’m sure Mr. Ramos won’t excuse a tardy, either.”
“Where’s your cell?” He held out his other hand and winked at me.
I stiffened and started tugging on the hand he still held. His thumb caressed the inside of my palm, sending a sickening feeling to my gut.
“I’ll punch my number in. You can call me later, and we could, ya know, discuss what I learned today in the old hag’s class.” He licked his bottom lip.
I pulled my hand back hard. “Uh. I can’t be late. You saw what that got me with Milner.” I didn’t let my stare waver. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.” I walked away. I could feel his eyes watching me. I didn’t like it one bit and sped up.
It felt good to be in the safety of Mr. Ramos’ classroom. Viktor had given me a seriously ugly feeling. I took my seat just as the bell rang and looked up to see a female teacher writing her name on the board. A substitute, then. It irritated me—I’d studied all my teachers’ files, and now here was a perfect stranger standing in front of me. It didn’t really matter, but it was annoying anyway.
Both Jericho and Mikado were in this class. From the way they acted, you’d never know they stole cars together at night. Jericho sat across the room from Mikado, and they didn’t acknowledge each other even once.
We watched a film on the dissection of a mouse to ready us for our dissection the next day. I kept my eyes on my notebook. I definitely didn’t need to see that. I could hear all the crass comments from the boys about doing even worse things to those poor mice. I focused on the worst of them, spoken by none other than Jericho, and he wasn’t talking about mice, but fictional people he’d like to gut. It was easy to pay attention to Jericho when he spoke. There was something pleasant about the strong set of his jaw and his smoky, deep brown eyes. They were all laughing, making loud dying noises and acting out deaths. The substitute kept shushing the kids, but they ignored her, and she finally gave up and focused on reading a book.
Normally, I wouldn’t take stock in what a teenage boy said about slicing up action heroes from the movies, but there was something serious in Jericho’s voice—violent and real. As the video ended, the sub left her desk to hand out the worksheets that went with the video. Jericho made his way to her desk and asked if he could borrow a pen. She told him he could. I watched him intently. There was something in his eye, a mischievous light that held my attention. The rest of the class talked or passed the papers to the person behind them. Jericho grabbed a pen and dropped it. He leaned down behind the desk to retrieve the pen and when he stood back up, a brief look of triumph crossed his face. He made his way back to his seat sans a pen.
The sub finished passing out the papers and sat back down. As she did, the office chair fell back onto the floor, sending her feet flying up into the air and her head crashing into the wall. While the rest of the class laughed, Jericho rushed to her, helping her get up and fixing the chair for her. She thanked him profusely and rubbed at her head. Heat seared my gut. He had engineered that whole scenario. Why? Why would he put her in danger and then come to her aid, acting the hero? I stared at the satisfied look on his face, and I watched as the girls in the class stared at him, admiring his very being.
Jeremy was right about this guy. There was something disturbing going on. First the homeless man, and then this strange display. And yet, he was class president—trés populaire, as Halluis had put it. It was like he had a split personality. He was scary. That was all there was to it.
As for Mikado, there had been some interesting things in his file. He never got in anyone’s way and tended to keep a low profile, except at his martial arts lessons every day after school. I figured that was the “nasty stuff” Jeremy had mentioned. He was one powerful fighter. The file said he could take down three opponents without much effort, and that it looked like he could have taken down a couple more before having to breathe hard. As I watched him in class, I noticed that same inhuman stillness that had caught my attention the night they’d stolen the S63. He reminded me of a panther, crouched and waiting to strike. It made me shudder inwardly.
***
My first opportunity to make contact with my targets was at lunch. I scanned the cafeteria, quickly finding the five kids I had identified from S-Dub’s car theft training. None of them sat with each other except for two, the most unlikely girls I thought I would find in auto engineering class. In my mind, I pictured manly girls, or at least ones who wore ties and stern faces, and stiff, straight-laced boys who lacked imagination as the preferred type for auto engineering. So much for stereotypes. The one girl had all pointy features: a pointy chin, a pointy nose, pointy ears, and even her head seemed a bit pointy. If anyone could have been an elf masquerading as a human, it was this girl. Even the odd shade of her green eyes against her dark skin made her seem otherworldly. They were a bit too clear and bright. Her friend was also small in build, but much rounder. I guess you’d call the shape of her face a heart shape. Her large, sullen, gray eyes betrayed no emotion, and her cheeks were puffy and rosy.
I headed for their table, my sack lunch in hand. Both sat eating without speaking. When I plopped down next to them, they didn’t even look up. With their heads angled down, they ate their school lunch voraciously, like they never got to eat.
I checked out their clothes and saw the telltale signs of poverty. Their uniforms were dingy, slightly fraying, and a bit thin. These girls were scholarship girls for sure. And I was Amber Smith, a scholarship girl, too. That meant these girls were smart, or they wouldn’t be here. I wondered what S-Dub had promised them to get them into early-morning auto class for car thieves. It had to be money related. I wondered if he’d invite me. Maybe he targeted scholarship kids. Then I thought of Jericho, who was extremely well-off. Why had Shareweather targeted him?
“Hi!” I said, not wanting to waste any time.
Neither said a word.
“I’m Amber. I just moved here and—”
Hands pushed firmly on my shoulders. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” a familiar voice said, sending chills of revulsion down my spine. “I didn’t expect you to be sitting with the riff-raff, though.”
“Hey,” I said, standing up and facing him—Viktor. “You should apologize to…” I realized I didn’t know their names and stuttered, “tttheese fine young women. I don’t see any riff-raff.”
With eyes the size of apricots, he said, “Are you blind?”
The boldness and utter meanness of his question made me ball up my fists.
“Look, Viktor.” I took a step away from the table and poked him in the chest with my index finger over and over again while I spoke. “I want you to leave, and I wouldn’t mind never seeing your ugly mug again.” He was anything but ugly, but I was referring to his insides.
He threw his arms in the air like he was being held up at gunpoint and said, “No problem, sweet thing. Just trying to help the new girl out.” He had this slight accent to some of his words, and I wondered where he was from. His head made sweeping motions from side to side, checking to see who was watching, I’m sure. He didn’t turn away from me until he was at least ten yards away. A scowl seemed to present itself the farther away from me he got. Something played at the back of my mind as I watched him continue to walk away once his back was to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I turned and sat, only to find I was alone at the table. Those two girls had abandoned me. My face burned. Rejected by the rejects. What next?
I looked around, thinking about moving to another table so I wouldn’t feel like such a loser, the feelings of sitting alone during my real high school experience threatening me once again. Then I remembered that I was no longer that bullied girl, but a killer spy. I stayed put, laughing inside.
To my surprise, a blond boy followed by three others came and sat down at my table. “I’m Hank,” the boy said, patting his completely unmuscular chest. He and his friends all looked young, freshmen probably. And all looked like they skipped sports in favor of books.
“Have you come to save me from my complete loserness?”
All four smiled at me, but the blond was obviously the spokesman. “Actually, we were hoping you could save us from that fate.” He and two others wore braces.
“I’ll do my best.”
From that point on, their chatter was unstoppable, and I knew I’d never sit alone here at lunch again. I admired these kids for taking a stand against bullying and reaching out to the new kid.
I used the time to get more insider information on the school and how the social structure worked. One thing was for certain. The majority of the student body loved Jericho.
Chapter 6
Fourth period was auto engineering, with Mr. Shareweather, of course. Ace, listening to the feed from my wire, had pulled some quick computer magic and changed my schedule to get me into the same class as the two girls I was hoping to befriend. I’d gotten a note from the office during my third period with an apology for the confusion and my corrected schedule. Once again, I was grateful for my team. It was pretty awesome having someone to rely on behind the scenes. I wished he’d been able to give me more information on the girls, but I’d take what I could get.
After getting class materials from Shareweather, I went straight for the two girls.
“What the heck?” I asked, stepping right in front of them. “I was sticking up for you two, and you do a Houdini on me? I felt pretty dumb sitting there after that.”
They both stared at me. The round girl seemed to stand guard, a few inches in front of the elf-like girl.
I stood, hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes at them to show them I meant business. Neither spoke before S-Dub’s booming voice filled the room. “We will be discussing lock mechanisms and how they typically function as well as discussing possible ways to improve them.”
I stared at the two girls. What was their deal? Why wouldn’t they talk to me?
They tried to avoid me all class period as we inspected different mechanisms in the various sections of cars in the room, but I stuck to them like tar to a shoe the whole period. I hoped my persistence would pay off.
We got into groups to discuss changes that could be made, and class flew by. My hands got grimier and grimier the more car parts I touched. At the end of class, we used a good amount of Goop to clean our hands in the locker room. Even after three scrubbings, they seemed to still have a slight gray tinge to them, not to mention the terrible smell left behind. I pulled out some fresh-smelling hand cream and rubbed it in. When I looked up, it shocked me to see both girls staring at me. Their focus seemed to be the lotion bottle.
“You want some? That Goop made my hands reek.” I held the bottle out to them.
I saw the slightest upturn in their mouths as they made their way over to me. They greedily rubbed the lotion into their hands and up their arms. The bell rang, and I turned to go.
“Hey, wait.” It was the round girl who spoke.
“Yeah?” I said, continuing to walk but looking back over my shoulder at them.
“I’m Gina, and this is Karina.” She motioned toward the pointy girl.
I stopped and smiled. “Like I said before,” I gave them a meaningful look. “I’m Amber.” I smiled again, and my insides celebrated the much-needed win.
“Wait!” Gina grabbed my arm. “You forgot your lotion.”
“You want it?” I asked. “I accidentally brought two to school today. It’s totally weighing me down. You’re welcome to it.” I turned to go before they could protest.
A deep, warm feeling spread through my chest. I bounded down the hall.
I had physics next, and Viktor sat at the other end of the room. I could have sworn I saw him scowl at me more than once. I guess I’d made an enemy. I didn’t care. He gave me the creeps.
Three kids from the incident at the shop were in that class with me. I made sure to pay attention to them and try to overhear their conversations.
There was an anxiousness in their words, but it was hard to make anything out. Something was going down and soon. I had to find out what.
Just when I thought I was going to have to follow one of these students for the rest of the day, I caught part of a rushed conversation between Gina and Karina as they were leaving school.
“Just make sure you bring the tools tonight,” Karina was saying. “We can’t afford for anything to go wrong. I can’t stand how S-Dub looks at me when I screw up.”
“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” Gina said confidently. “We’ve been practicing. We can do this.”
“Okay—meet at my place at 6:30? We’ll have to ride the train.”
The girls kept talking as they left the building. I considered following them home, but I realized there wasn’t much more I could learn. The mention of tools and S-Dub together was a pretty strong indication that something involving the car theft gang was going to happen tonight. I’d just have to follow the girls as they met up at 6:30, and go from there.
***
I was preoccupied as I walked into the brownstone, considering how best to strengthen my tentative connection with Gina and Karina, so at first I didn’t notice the angry voices coming from the kitchen. I only clued in when I heard my name.
“…brought in Christy. She shouldn’t be involved in this,” Jeremy was saying. He wasn’t shouting, but I could hear the heat in his voice. I pushed the front door shut as quietly as possible and crept nearer to the kitchen, making no sound.
Halluis answered, and there was venom in his clipped tone. “Agent Hadden has the requisite skills and training needed for this mission. That is why I requested her. Your concern over her involvement is unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional? This whole mission is unprofessional—nothing is being done according to protocol. There’s no cross-talk between us and other agencies—why haven’t we been able to get any of the intel from local law enforcement, or from the FBI? Why haven’t we been given any of the extra resources we’ve asked for—every time I ask for help from Division, my request is denied. Why is there no official Division record of this mission even existing? Something isn’t right, and you know it.”
“Do you even hear yourself? Cross-talk with other agencies? Official records? We are a black ops organization—we live by secrets. Obviously, there’s something we are not privileged to know, and that is the nature of our business. We do as we are told. That’s it.”
“And that’s enough for you?”
“You are young, Agent McGinnis. In my opinion, too young to be running an
op like this one. But no one asked my opinion, and I am not going to stand around whining about it. I do what I am told. I suggest you do the same.”
There was a momentary silence, and I belatedly realized that the argument was over. Halluis stormed out of the kitchen, took one glance at me, and stomped up the stairs. The argument echoed through my thoughts—Jeremy thought I shouldn’t have been brought in? He was concerned I wasn’t good enough for the mission? I thought he knew me well enough to trust me by now. Even though we had never before worked as closely as we were now, he had seen me in action. That thought sent a wave of icy cold anxiety through me. Was that the problem? Jeremy had seen what I could do—and it wasn’t enough.
I didn’t want to face him—how could I look him in the eye, knowing he didn’t want me on this mission? I quickly backtracked, retreating to the entryway to take off my bag and coat before Jeremy emerged from the kitchen, hoping to make it seem like I had only just come in.
It didn’t matter anyway, because Jeremy never came out. I approached the kitchen gingerly, wondering if I should bring up what I’d heard or pretend to be entirely ignorant of the argument. But when I entered the kitchen, Jeremy was gone.
“I think he left,” said a voice from behind me.
I whirled around to find Ace standing awkwardly in the doorway. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his short-sleeve T-shirt emphasizing the tattoos up and down his arms. He smiled uncomfortably.
“You heard that, too, then?” I swallowed, hard. I didn’t want Ace to know just how much Jeremy’s words had affected me. I decided to focus on the second half of the argument. “Jeremy thinks there’s something strange about the mission. What should we do?”
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