Andy Roid and the Unexpected Mission

by Felice Arena

  This didn’t look good. Andy had less than ten minutes to get them both out of there, before everything and everyone left on the boat would be blown to smithereens.

  It was now or never!

  As the pirate turned back, Andy knocked the gun out of his hands, picked him up and tossed him aside like a rag doll.

  WHHAACCKKKK!

  With so much strength in Andy’s upgraded arms, the pirate flew across the cabin as if he had been shot out of a canon.

  ‘ARRRRRGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!’

  FWWOOOOOMMMMPP!

  His head crashed against the wall and he hit the floor with a sickening thump. The pirate was out cold.

  But before Andy even had time to rip off the tape, one of the other pirates came storming in – it was the man with the monobrow. When he saw his friend sprawled out unconscious, he raised his gun.

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  Andy jumped in front of the yacht owner.

  PING! PING! PING!

  The bullets ricocheted off Andy’s forearms as he shielded them from the rapid-fire bullets.

  The pirate’s jaw dropped when he saw that Andy was still standing. He turned and fled the cabin.

  Andy ripped the tape from the owner’s mouth and his own.

  ‘General?’ he said. ‘It’s a bomb – there’s a bomb on board.’

  ‘Copy that, Andy!’ said the General. ‘Expect contact from Agent Einstein about disposal and procedure.’

  ‘W-who. . .or what. . .are you?’ stuttered the yacht owner as Andy turned him around to look at the digital display on the bomb.

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Andy said. It read 7:54. ‘I’ll be right back!’

  When Andy reached the upper deck the two pirates had already boarded the pick-up boat – and were motoring away from the yacht.

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  They fired at Andy.

  He knew he was an easy target, lit by the cabin lights behind him, but he easily dodged the bullets. Then he pointed his laser finger at the hull of the pick-up boat.

  ZAP!

  The laser cut through the hull. They won’t get far now, he thought, as the boat started to take on water.

  ‘What’s going on?’ The yacht owner was really panicking when Andy raced back in to the cabin.

  ‘I gotta get that bomb off you,’ said Andy. ‘And toss it in the ocean as far as I can. Trust me, I’ve got a pretty good pitching arm.’

  ‘Great!’ said the yacht owner. ‘But what about your ears? They’re moving – they’re practically flapping! What are you?’

  ‘SO embarrassing,’ Andy muttered, before saying out loud, ‘Gesundheit!’

  Reggie was instantly on the line. ‘The General just briefed me, Andy. Whatever you do, don’t touch the bomb until we assess what type it is. Some bombs are sensitive to movement or touch. So what sort of bomb is it?’

  ‘How should I know?’ Andy snapped, anxiously watching the clock tick down.

  ‘I thought you would have used your Image Recognition Search app,’ said Reggie. ‘With the upgrade, you can search from approved military databases and the web.’

  ‘Great idea, Reggie,’ Andy said. ‘Sorry.’

  With beads of sweat dripping off his forehead, Andy intialised his IRS app, a tiny camera lens at the base of the middle finger on his right hand. He aimed his palm at the bomb, the shutter clicked, and within seconds information appeared on his left-hand palm screen.

  ‘It’s the Vesuvius bomb – whatever that means,’ said Andy. ‘Created a couple of years ago. That’s all I got!’

  ‘Hold on,’ said Reggie. ‘I’m downloading more information. . .’

  Andy glanced at the bomb’s clock. ‘Hurry, Reggie! We have less than three and a half minutes before this thing blows!’

  ‘Who’s Reggie?’ asked the yacht owner. ‘Is that a screen in your palm?’

  ‘I got it!’ Reggie exclaimed before Andy could answer. ‘It’s a black-market bomb named after the famous volcano in southern Italy – best known for its destruction of –’

  ‘I haven’t got time for a history lesson, Reggie.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Reggie. ‘But history always gets a bad rap. How can we learn about where we’re heading if we don’t know where we’ve been?’

  ‘REGGIE!’

  ‘All right! I got it! The Vesuvius bomb is activated and diffused by a preset four-digit code – it’s the same number on all Vesuvius bombs in circulation.’

  ‘So what is it?’ Andy asked.

  ‘Hold on. . .’ said Reggie. ‘Need to find that out. . .’

  The bomb clock now read 2:03.

  ‘Hurry!’ cried the yacht owner, pointing at the pirate in the corner. He was groaning and rolling his head from side to side. ‘He’s starting to wake up!’

  ‘We’ve got less than two minutes,’ Andy shouted. ‘REGGIE!’

  ‘Get out! Get out of here!’ the yacht owner cried frantically. ‘Save yourself. Tell my family I love them!’

  ‘I’m staying here,’ said Andy, but he wondered if he really would. He needed at least twenty seconds to get a safe distance away. But could he really leave an innocent man to die? Was he going to fail on his first mission? ‘REGGIE! We need you now, buddy!’

  ‘All I have is a clue,’ said Reggie. ‘The Vesuvius bomb’s four-digit code is based on the volcano’s eruption dates. Oh. . .oh. . .I got it! Try seventy-nine AD. That was the year of its most famous eruption, when it destroyed the Roman city of Pompeii.’

  ‘There are no letters on the keypad,’ Andy panicked. ‘Just numbers. One minute to go!’

  ‘Okay. . .hold on. . .’

  ‘WE CAN’T HOLD ON, REGGIE!’

  The clock clicked down.

  ‘REGGIE!’ Andy cried again. ‘Are you there?’

  There were now only eighteen seconds to go. It had gone beyond the point of no return for Andy. Even with all his super powers he reckoned his life was now in the hands of his friend.

  ‘ELEVEN SECONDS!’ Andy shouted, his expression now mirroring the terror on the yacht owner’s face. ‘REGGIE!’

  ‘I GOT IT! Nineteen forty-four. Vesuvius’s last eruption!’

  With only six seconds to go, Andy tapped in 1. . .9. . .4. . .4.

  The bomb clock froze on two seconds.

  ‘YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT, REGGIE! YOU DID IT!’ yelled Andy, exhaling.

  The yacht owner’s head dropped into his chest and he started sobbing, tears of relief streaming down his cheeks.

  Andy carefully detached the bomb from him and untied his hands. He switched Reggie over to his palm screen.

  ‘Woah! That was close,’ Reggie sighed. ‘I can’t believe I almost blew it by going for that first-century eruption. Talk about falling for the obvious. One of the first rules of being an agent is “What’s obvious is usually not”.’

  ‘I thought it was “Expect the unexpected”.’

  Something suddenly dawned on Andy. He remembered that the pirate had said something about activating them. Was there more than one bomb on board?

  ‘Reggie, do another info check on diffusing the bomb. . .’ His voice was again filled with fear.

  Reggie looked around at his screens, tapping on the keyboard. Suddenly he gasped, ‘Get out of there now, Andy!’ His voice was panicked. ‘Once the Vesuvius bomb has been diffused it automatically activates a sister bomb – to go off in two minutes. And you don’t have time to find that one!’

  ‘GO! GO! GO!’ Andy pushed the yacht owner out of the cabin and shoved a life jacket in his hands. ‘Put that on and wait for me! Right now I’ve got to get that pirate!’

  ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Why risk our lives for him? He was going to kill us! Forget him!’

  But Andy couldn’t. He couldn’t let anyone die, no matter how bad they were.

  ‘You have less than a minute, Andy!’ Reggie warned.

  Andy raced down the stairs into the cabin and flung the pirate over his shoulder.

  ‘Forty-one seconds!’ Reggie said a
s Andy rushed up on deck.

  Andy grabbed the yacht owner under his other arm and ran for the edge of the deck. He took an almighty jump into the pitch black night. . .

  He just heard the man’s frightened scream, before –

  KAAAAAA-BOOOOMM!!!!!!

  Andy lost his grip on the two men as the bomb exploded.

  The force of the blast catapulted them further into the night sky. Andy felt the force and heat of the explosion against his back. It was like a giant angry dragon, breathing fire.

  Then –

  SPLAAASSSHHH!

  Andy speared deep into the freezing ocean.

  ‘Andy? Andy? Are you okay?’ Reggie called out.

  Andy gasped and coughed for air. ‘I’m okay. . .’ he puffed, breathless with excitement.

  He looked around for the two men with his night vision.

  The pirate was thrashing around, conscious again, but sinking fast. Andy dived through the water and grabbed him.

  Behind them, the yacht was totally engulfed in flames.

  He thought the yacht owner seemed okay, bobbing in the icy ocean in his life jacket, but he was almost hysterical. He was shivering so hard that he could hardly get the words out. ‘I don’t believe it!’ he yelled. ‘Who in the world are you?’

  Andy grinned as he saw the General’s men heading their way in rescue boats. The other pirates were standing, handcuffed, on the deck.

  ‘I’m a special agent for the government,’ he said proudly. ‘And I’ve just completed my first mission.’

  ● ● ●

  It was hugs all around when they were back on board the aircraft carrier. The yacht owner embraced his wife and daughter tightly. It looked as if he might never let go.

  ‘We were so worried when we saw that explosion,’ said Andy’s mum, wrapping a warm blanket around his shoulders.

  ‘Thank goodness for Reggie, right?’ said Andy’s dad, throwing his arms around them both.

  ‘Well done, Andy,’ the General said. ‘Quick thinking. Smart decisions. Courageous action. That’s what we want to see from our operatives.’

  ‘Okay, okay. . .enough of the love fest. I didn’t get this much gush for my first mission,’ Judd said. ‘Although, seriously, dude – murderous pirates, time bombs, explosions, shark scares. . .How are we going to beat that in our next mission?’

  ‘Make yourselves comfortable,’ the General said as Andy, his parents and Judd sat down on large black leather chairs in the media room.

  ‘After months of training, Andy, I’m happy to say your career as an agent officially begins today.’

  ‘Way to go, dude!’ Judd clapped loudly and whistled.

  Andy grinned. His parents were smiling proudly, but they also looked a bit nervous.

  ‘We were reluctant to send you out so soon, but since you’ve proved yourself so capable in the field, I feel you’re up to the next challenge.’

  The General waved his hand and an image appeared on the glass screen at the front of the room – it was a badger stamped on top of a red X.

  ‘This is the logo of the Blaireau Corporation. Blaireau is the French word for –’

  ‘Badger,’ said Andy, thanks to the foreign-language app in his temporal lobe that gave him the ability to speak and understand twenty languages.

  The image changed to a map of the world. There were badger logos dotted all over it.

  ‘The Blaireau Corporation is an international syndicate of individuals. We don’t know their identities, and what we do know is classified as so top secret that not even I have full access. This goes well above me, boys. The members of the Corporation grow their personal wealth by funding companies and rogue groups that thrive on global racketeering. . .’

  ‘He means they’re rich old dudes that deal in evil to get richer,’ whispered Judd to Andy. ‘Just in case you don’t have a chip to translate that for you.’

  ‘Yes, Judd, that’s right, evil old dudes,’ said the General, glaring at the boys. ‘They trade in everything from drugs to military weapons – but lately there’s been a focus on robotic warfare weaponry. They’re willing to sponsor almost anyone making advances in this area.’

  ‘Like Dr Baffi and the Triple S?’ Andy asked.

  ‘Exactly!’ the General said. ‘The Triple S was a mere cog in the diabolical machine that is the Blaireau Corporation.’

  ‘He means the Badger gang is the evil mothership,’ Judd added.

  The General sighed. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said. ‘And the Blaireau Corporation is one big mother we need to take down.’

  Andy and Judd started laughing.

  The General glared at Judd again and cleared his throat. He pointed at the big screen at the front of the room. A video of an army tank flashed on. The film looked like it was taken from a helicopter.

  As the tank moved forward, Andy could see something in the distance, coming closer.

  He gasped. It looked like an over-sized iron spider.

  Andy thought that the spider looked small and weak compared to the tank. but the General looked serious.

  ‘I warn you, boys, what you’re about to see is not pretty. It’s footage taken from a combat war zone and we’ve had a hard time keeping it out of the media. That’s a spider-drone known to us as the TB3, Tarantula B3. By the way, the tank is on our side. . .’

  Andy watched intently as the army tank raised its canon and fired at the TB3.

  BANG!

  Rocks and earth exploded about the spider, but when the dust cleared the machine was still standing – untouched.

  Its mechanical legs began to crunch forward, quickly scrambling over the rubble. Then it reared up and shot a spray of web over the barrel of the army tank’s cannon. The web glittered in the desert sun as if it were made of flexible metal.

  ‘Woah,’ Judd gasped. ‘Just like the real thing, but this is the sick robotic-remix. Our guys can’t fire any more, right?’

  The General nodded and gestured for the boys to keep watching.

  Suddenly the TB3 soared into the sky and slammed down on the tank. It locked eight round metal objects to the roof.

  ‘Woah!’ said Andy. ‘What are they?’

  ‘I think they’re bombs,’ said Judd in awe.

  The TB3 detached itself from the bombs and soared into the sky.

  KA-BOOM!

  Seconds later the tank exploded into a raging ball of fire and the film went black.

  The General turned back to the boys.

  ‘A rogue terrorist cartel was behind this nightmare. Fortunately, since this footage was taken, we’ve taken control of the TB3 and destroyed it. It’s the only one of its kind so far, we hope. But it was the Blaireau Corporation that funded this. And we have to stop them before they do more damage. They’re willing to sponsor almost anyone making advances in this area.

  ‘So this is where you boys come in,’ he continued. ‘Twice a year the members of the Blaireau Corporation gather in secret locations around the world. For years we believed there were no headquarters for this shadowy organisation. We now know there is.’

  ‘Where?’ Judd said excitedly. ‘Where do these evil dudes hang out?’

  ‘We only know the country,’ said the General. ‘Your mission is to locate their headquarters and let us do the rest.’

  ‘That’s it?’ complained Judd. ‘Seriously? No butt-kicking? No busting up this bad-ass club?’

  Andy didn’t understand why Judd was objecting. As far as he was concerned, a search-and-locate operation seemed just fine – especially after the action-filled adventure of his first mission.

  ‘Do not engage. That’s an order,’ snapped the General. ‘You should just consider yourself lucky to have been assigned to this mission, young man.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Judd snapped back.

  Did the General mean that Judd was lucky to have his job back at all? wondered Andy.

  Over six months ago, Judd had been suspended when he was supposed to be undercover guarding Andy. When th
e General had asked Andy if he would consider being an agent, he had agreed only if Judd could work as his partner.

  But that didn’t explain why the General wouldn’t want Judd to go on this particular mission, Andy thought.

  The General just ignored Judd’s question. ‘The operation begins with this man.’

  The screen now showed an image of a handsome middle-aged man.

  ‘This is Professor Christophe Farrient. He heads up the cybernetics department at a private university geared towards robotic advancement.’

  ‘I know of him,’ said Andy’s mum. ‘He’s an excellent scientist. We considered inviting him to join our team.’

  ‘Farrient is at the centre of our investigations,’ said the General. ‘All we know is that someone connected to the Blaireau Corporation recently made contact with him.’

  ‘So you want us to shadow this dude?’ asked Judd. ‘You’re hoping he’ll lead us to their headquarters?’

  ‘Yes and no,’ said the General, bringing up a picture of a girl about the same age as Judd and Andy. She had long straight golden hair, big hazel eyes and a warm smile. ‘If Farrient is involved you won’t get much out of him. But this is Sara Farrient, Christophe’s thirteen-year-old daughter. I want you and Andy to get to know her and extract any information you can about her father.’

  ‘Where do they live?’ asked Andy. ‘Where are we going?’

  The General looked directly at Judd. ‘Switzerland,’ he said.

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Judd snapped, glaring at the General. ‘I get it now. Thanks, Granddad. Thanks a lot!’

  Judd stood up out of his chair and stormed out of the media room. Andy and his parents were totally confused.

  The General sighed. ‘Excuse me a moment,’ he said, and followed Judd.

  ‘Um, just one question, Dad,’ said Andy. ‘Switzerland’s a landlocked country and we’re on a ship out in the middle of the ocean. Exactly how does the General expect us to get there?’

  Andy’s dad grinned. ‘How do you think?’ he said. ‘There are several F-18 Hornet fighter jets on board. . .’

  ‘Are you serious? That’s so cool!’

  His dad looked as excited as Andy felt, and a little bit jealous.