Double Cross

by Beth McMullen

  Soon, the grand plantation house comes into view. “It’s empty?” asks Charlotte.

  “Like a movie set or something,” I say.

  “They blindfolded us until we were down in the lava tubes,” Izumi adds. “We didn’t see anything. It was not okay.”

  It strikes me that my friends have been through a lot in the past couple of years and might be the bravest people I know. I have to remember to tell them that later, when we are not on the verge of adding to the list.

  “The lava tube entrance is this way,” I say. “Follow me.”

  Because we don’t have any spy gadgets and the dog-whisperer skills are hit or miss, we give the house a wide berth and stay hidden in the brush. But it was dark when Poppy fell through the crack in the earth, and it takes me a while to find it.

  Izumi and Charlotte are patient, following me around in circles. “Do you think anyone has noticed we’re not back yet?” asks Izumi.

  “Doubtful,” says Charlotte. “They think we’re busy with the wits task.”

  “I wonder who will win the Challenge?”

  “Not us.”

  “Is Poppy really a dog whisperer?” asks Izumi.

  “Kind of,” I say. “Here it is.” I stand over the fissure in the earth. It looks no less welcoming in the light of day. Why didn’t I just throw a rock at Snake’s head? Why did I throw the phone?

  “It’s volcanic,” says Izumi, pushing at the ground with her toe. “This whole island is cracking and splitting all the time. I guess we crawl down there and find the phone.”

  “Which is where?” asks Charlotte.

  Good question.

  “The last time,” I say, “Poppy and I went right. We know there are no giant server rooms that way. So this time we go left.” My friends agree this sounds perfectly reasonable. I spend another few seconds staring down the hole before Charlotte nudges me.

  “Are you going or what?” she asks.

  “On it,” I say. “When you drop, tuck tight so you don’t hurt yourselves. And be careful.”

  Izumi snorts with laughter. “Be careful. That’s a good one!”

  “By the way,” Charlotte asks, “how do we get out again?”

  “The river?” Izumi suggests.

  “Or maybe the main ladder,” I say. “If we’re patient, and don’t get caught. That might work.”

  “Speaking of getting caught,” Izumi cautions, “we should probably stop talking.”

  We move through the tube as silently as possible. Voices echo, but it’s hard to pinpoint their location with all this rock. They could be right behind us or miles away. It’s creepy. I push it from my mind. Freaking out for no good reason is self-indulgent when I’m sure there will be opportunities to freak out for good reasons very soon.

  We walk for a long time. Only once do we come close to colliding with a man and a woman standing in a wide section of the tube. The man is tall and has to hunch over to avoid conking his head. They don’t look evil. They look ordinary. Do they have any idea what the Ghost is capable of if we don’t stop him? How can they stand there engaged in casual conversation? We slip by, grateful for the shadows.

  The rocky corridors twist and turn and randomly branch off. We might be going in circles. For morale’s sake, I keep this to myself, until up ahead we see bright lights coming from a tube. Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony drifts out and fills the air. Guarding the entrance are our old friends Caterpillar and Snake. Caterpillar has cleaned himself up, although he now has a bald spot in his eyebrow.

  “Really?” I mutter. “These two again?” We huddle some distance away in a dark pocket against the rock. The guards wear neutral expressions and stare into space as good guards should.

  “Do you smell that?” Izumi asks, sniffing the air. “It’s warm, like electric, staticky, you know?” I nod even though all I smell is wet rock. “It comes from running a lot of computers at once.”

  Right, which means we have to get past the guards. Again.

  “Maybe we just politely ask them to step aside,” suggests Charlotte.

  “Oh, yeah. I bet that will work,” Izumi says with a laugh.

  A plan starts to come together in my mind. It might not work. Who am I kidding? It’s almost guaranteed to fail. But unless we do something fast, the world will be in serious trouble.

  Chapter 37

  Give as Good as You Get.

  CHARLOTTE PULLS HER HAIR BACK into a tight ponytail. Izumi uses the edge of her filthy T-shirt to wipe off her face. “How do we look? Will they recognize us?”

  “You look beautiful,” I say. And I totally mean it. “Like, invincible. Fierce.”

  “Don’t get carried away,” Izumi says.

  “Wish us luck,” Charlotte adds.

  We do a quick group hug, and I get a whiff of salt water. I wonder if, in the future, every time I smell the ocean I will come right back to this moment? That would be okay. Nothing has gone off the rails yet.

  The plan is for Charlotte and Izumi to distract and disable the guards. Meanwhile, I race down the lava tube, grab the phone, and we escape. Explaining my idea, I feel a twinge, and after a moment, I recognize that I miss Poppy and her plans. How did that happen?

  Charlotte takes a deep inhale, slowly lets the air out through her nose. “Let’s do this,” she says. Izumi loops an arm around Charlotte’s neck and they stagger into the light. Charlotte drags Izumi, screaming.

  “My friend is injured! Oh, please help us! We fell through a hole in the ground! I think I’m going to faint!” Now Izumi starts screaming, as if blind with pain. The girls keep their backs to the guards, who rush over, unable to ignore the noise. The screaming is outrageous, echoing off the walls, amplified by stone. When Snake leans over to get a better look at Izumi’s face, he gets a quick elbow to the bridge of the nose. I hear the crack. That’s got to smart. Charlotte rests both hands on Caterpillar’s shoulders and drives her knee into his guts. He goes down in a heap. Classic Veronica moves! She would be so proud. But there’s no time to stand around and admire their work. I take off down the lava tube, tripping on the uneven floor and bouncing off the walls. Beethoven gets louder and louder until it feels like my brain is rattling around in my head. Finally, I arrive at the outer rim of an enormous room carved out of the lava, the inside of a hollowed-out mountain. Izumi was right. There are a lot of computers. Floor-to-ceiling storage cabinets line the rough rock walls, disappearing into the distant darkness. Fans spin to keep the servers from overheating despite the underground chill. A man in a white lab coat, probably the Ghost’s most recent evil scientist, stands at a high table with several monitors, his back to me. He taps a keyboard, pauses to conduct a few bars of music, and returns to the keyboard. At his elbow is my gold spy phone, plugged into a deck of churning machines.

  Don’t worry, little spy phone! I’m here to save you!

  Before I can iron out the specifics of how best to do that, the man at the monitors whirls around.

  I know that face. I’ve seen that face. My entire body goes cold, and it’s all I can do not to scream as his eyes bore into me.

  Can it really be the Ghost? Right here?

  He grins as if he’s considering eating me. A hot bubble of panic rises in my chest. “Abigail Hunter herself,” he hisses. He’s not very tall, but his fingers are extra long and thin. He waves them in the air like tentacles. A shock of unruly white hair frames a surprisingly youthful face. For some reason, I expected jowls. “It had to be you, didn’t it? Trying to get done what your mother could not. She came close. Many times. But your poor pathetic Center is simply not up to the task of stopping me.”

  My eyes drift to the phone. He grabs it up, yanking it free from the tangle of wires, and waves it at me. “You came for this, did you? Foolish girl. In five minutes, that beautiful code will be surfing my digital ocean, enabling me to terrify the world into submission.” His eyes are frantic, like he pulled an all-nighter to study for an exam but might fail anyway. “The one thing I’ve learned in lif
e is that it’s easier to be feared than to be loved. A big, scary weapon isn’t necessary to control people. You just need their dismay, their distress, their anxiety. A poisoning here and there, so random, so unpredictable, they will see malevolence behind every corner, under every rock. They will never suspect their devices. And even if they did, most would be loath to give them up. Addicts! Of course, when I sail in, offering to save them, they will give me what I want. Whatever it is. Who knew taking over the world could be so easy?”

  My feet are glued to the floor. “It won’t work,” I croak.

  “Oh, but it will,” he scoffs. “Do you really think you and your band of insignificant mischief makers can actually stop me?”

  “Yes?”

  “I admire your confidence, misplaced as it may be,” he says, circling me, studying me. I’m frozen in place, my mind blank. “Say, I have an idea. Why don’t you come work for me?” He snickers. “You know Lola Smith is never going to let you in that school you care so much about. But if you join my team, I will actually let you play. You’ll get the glory you so badly want.”

  This snaps me out of my trance. Is he really offering me a spot on his evil bad-guy team? That takes some nerve. “No thank you,” I say politely. “I’d rather eat glass.”

  “It figures,” he says. “You’re all caught up in good and bad, but really there is only power and who has it. And you kids don’t. You can do only what we allow you to do.”

  But that’s not true. When we stick together we can do anything. “You’re wrong,” I say.

  He flashes a wicked grin. “How delightfully naive. Maybe you’d like to see a demonstration of the power I’m talking about? Hmmm, whom shall we target first? How about half the travelers in Heathrow? Or all the drivers stuck in traffic in Los Angeles? Or maybe the Smith School volleyball team?” He laughs, a terrible sound that reverberates around the cave. I want to cover my ears. “This is going to be diabolically fun.”

  Fun is a roller coaster, fun is riding a bike with no hands, fun is not being randomly poisoned by a madman. He waves the phone around like a conductor’s baton, clutching it tightly as the music soars. And that gives me an idea.

  It’s risky. Poppy would be horrified, and it probably won’t work, but I’m willing to take a chance. I step closer. I have to be within range for the phone to hear my voice. “Fun?” I say with a snicker. “What do you know about fun? You live all alone in a cave.”

  The Ghost stops short. “I do not live all alone,” he says, pointing at me with the phone. “I have an army of people at my beck and call.”

  “That’s not the same as having friends,” I say, inching forward.

  The Ghost’s face goes red, in stark contrast to his shock of wild white hair. “Stop talking right now.”

  “Did you know loneliness can shorten your life span? It’s actually bad for you. I read that someplace. Probably in school.”

  He has gone full tomato face. Little bits of spit fly from his mouth. “I told you to be quiet.” But I’m almost there. One more step should do it. Please let me be close enough. Please let this work.

  “I’m bad at following directions,” I say. “Ask anyone.”

  “You insolent little brat!” he cries.

  “Veronica! Horn! Bees! Lightning! Snarling dog! Cookies!” I shout. As all the apps struggle to launch at once, the phone becomes red hot in the Ghost’s hand. He screams and tries to throw it, but it adheres to his skin. This is my moment. I summon my best Deadhead the Rose, planting my foot and exploding my other leg in a roundhouse kick to the back of the Ghost’s head. He flies forward, the phone still glowing with heat in his hand, hits his head on the cave wall, and crumples in a heap.

  Adrenaline surging through my veins, I watch for movement, signs that he is not done. But he’s completely out, eyes closed, face slack, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

  “Spy phone off,” I say. Wobbly and light-headed, I stand over him. The phone smolders in his hand, slowly cooling from red to orange back to tarnished gold. Sometimes our flaws turn out to be our strengths, but I still think Toby needs to fix this problem in the next version.

  I nudge the Ghost with my toe. What happened to him? Who turned him into this monster? Did he want something so badly that he would compromise everything for it? No prize is worth trading your soul. When he wakes up, he will be in a world of pain.

  So not my problem.

  Chapter 38

  Are We Having Fun Yet?

  I GINGERLY STEP over the Ghost’s inert body, a little skittish, convinced he will rear up again any second like the bad guys always do in the movies. But he just lies there as if having a nap on the cold, hard floor.

  Quickly, I find the command screen on the mainframe and begin to type out the sequence. But my arm is wet, and the last number runs like a little black river to my wrist.

  “No. No. No!” Is it a seven or a one? I want to cry. But this is the reason I’m out here and Poppy is behind the desk, just like Jennifer and Mrs. Smith. I tap the seven, hit enter, and hold my breath. The servers churn and hum. Program Deleted appears on the screen.

  “Yes!” From the Ghost’s desk, I swipe an empty coffee mug, peel the spy phone from his grip, and deposit it, still hot, into the mug. It won’t be long until someone realizes what’s happened. It’s time to go. Without a glance back at my nemesis and my mother’s before me, I sprint from the room. Izumi and Charlotte run in my direction. “Did you do it?” Izumi asks, breathless.

  I hold up the fried phone. “Yeah. Done. Let’s get out of here.” We charge through the tunnel, back the way we came, skirting around the incapacitated guards and toward the main ladder to freedom. And everything is going so well! We’re going to make it!

  Until suddenly, it’s not and we aren’t.

  Four guards, shoulder to shoulder, block access to the precious ladder. More guards? How much security does the Ghost have down here, anyway?

  “Not so fast,” barks a guard. They don’t look willing to negotiate. Besides, we have nothing to offer, other than the charred remains of what was once a very cool spy phone.

  “We could fight our way out,” Izumi whispers.

  “Not great odds,” I reply.

  “Ugh,” says Charlotte. “This is taking too long. I really want a shower. Thoughts?”

  I have a lot of thoughts. None of them are productive. But just when I think there is no hope, things take a turn for the weird. A pair of black stilettos appears on the ladder, followed by black pants, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket. Tinker Bell?

  “Is that who I think it is?” whispers Izumi.

  “Yup.”

  “Did we figure out if she is on the side of good or evil?”

  “She is on the side of Tinker Bell,” I say.

  “Great.”

  Tinker Bell hops from the ladder and dusts off her hands. She glances around, eyebrow arched. I don’t think she approves of the decorating. Several of her henchmen descend from above. Her gaze lands on me. She smiles. “It is so nice to see you again, Abigail,” she squeaks.

  Keenly aware that we are trapped down here, I offer a half smile, mostly to hide my panic, and wait to see what will happen next.

  Tinker does a slow spin. “This is the Ghost’s top secret brand-new international headquarters? Dreary. Could use some color. And maybe some sunlight. Does he only hire vampires?” She snorts at her joke. The henchmen chuckle. I bet they are paid to do that. “I have to say I expected . . . more. But I’m not here for a vacation. What did you do with the man himself?” She zeroes in on me. “Because I know you did something.”

  “I . . . um . . . deadheaded the rose,” I stutter. “But it’s temporary. I think so, anyway.”

  Tinker waves me off. “Kids. Do you ever make sense? I’m not even going to pretend I know what you’re talking about. Regardless, this is the best. So many secrets here, mine for the taking.” She snaps her fingers. “Boys, secure the facility.”

  As more
of her posse descend the ladder, the ones on the ground move forward, plowing under the Ghost’s people, who are about as surprised as we are. It’s a coup.

  We step out of the way, backs pressed against the cold rock wall. I smell Tinker Bell’s citrusy perfume. Her red lipstick is perfect, no smudges. She wedges her sunglasses deep into her mountain of hair and returns her attention to us. Lifting my chin with a manicured finger, she forces me to look right at her. She’s not medusa—I won’t be turned to actual stone or anything, but it sure feels dangerous.

  “You did good,” Tinker says. “Of course, I’d have preferred you didn’t wreck my car and beat up my driver, but I’m willing to overlook those things because you led me right where I wanted to go.”

  “Were you following us the whole time?” I whisper. Her gaze is too intense. I shiver.

  “Trade secrets, my dear. You aspiring spy types could learn a thing or two from our side.” Her lips twitch into a frightening smile. “But for now, you look a mess. I suggest you get out of here. Perhaps consider bathing.”

  She doesn’t have to ask twice. Sometimes the best thing a girl can hope for is to escape and live to fight another day.

  We inch around her toward the ladder. “And remember, ladies”—Tinker Bell cackles—“there’s a new sheriff in town!”

  Chapter 39

  The Smith School for Children.

  THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS I could be getting in trouble for I can’t keep track. Losing the Challenge for Smith, causing Team OP to lose the Challenge for Smith, going AWOL, illegal flying, conspiring with a known black hat, leading one notorious bad person into the secret lair of another notorious bad person, using unapproved spy gear, losing unapproved spy gear, risking life and limb—my own and others’—disobeying my mother, who was not happy finding us in Hawaii and having to explain to Mrs. Smith why we were there, and swapping the required Smith School uniform for shorts and a T-shirt while at Briar.