Disruption

by Whibley, Steven

  Yaakov flipped open his computer and punched a few keys. “There’s a public library a couple blocks away from the station. It’s closed for renovations. We could work there.”

  “Nothing closer?” Angie asked. “I’m not a fan of walking great distances.”

  Yaakov rolled his eyes, turned back to his computer, and muttered, “I said a couple blocks, not a couple miles.” He tapped a few more keys. “There’s a bakery kitty-corner to the station’s east entrance. Its security system is simple. We could work there.”

  “Great,” Rylee said.

  “Wait,” I said. “You mean …” I cleared my throat. “We break into it?”

  Yaakov looked around the bus. “Well, it’s Saturday, so they’re probably going to be open—we’ll have to give them a reason to close early.”

  “That’ll be easy,” Angie said.

  “Easy?” I asked. “Really? Even if they closed early, we’d still have to break in.”

  Yaakov nodded slowly. “Um, yeah. Obviously. Unless you have a key, or a different safe house we could use?”

  “What about the police?” I asked.

  Yaakov sighed. “I told you; the security system is simple. It’ll be off before we break in.”

  I leaned in and nodded to the front of the bus, indicating the driver, who I was quite sure would report us if we did something wrong. “And the camp won’t care if we do that?”

  “I don’t see why they would,” Juno said. “They don’t want us getting picked up by the police, which is what would happen if we started modifying explosives out in the open.”

  “Relax, Captain,” Angie said. “I’ll personally secure the site for us.”

  I felt a burst of excitement I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Already this was turning into the biggest prank of my life. It seemed there weren’t any limits with this camp. Even though they didn’t want us to get caught, I bet there was a simple way for them to get us out of trouble if they needed to. We were talking about the CIA, after all.

  “What else do we need?” I asked.

  “I’ll need some time to hack into the station’s security,” Yaakov said.

  “And someone needs to prepare exit routes,” Juno added.

  “I’ll do that,” Rylee said.

  I nodded.

  “Weapons,” Angie said. “We’re going to need weapons.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  “In case someone tries to stop us.”

  “They’re not going to stop all of us,” I said. “We’ll get the disruption without hurting anyone.”

  “Is that your thing?” Angie asked, giving me a disgusted look. “No harm to anyone? That’s not—”

  “Can we just get past this?” Rylee asked. “He said we’re not using weapons on anyone, so let’s just move on.” She nodded at Yaakov. “Tell Angie where the bakery is, and she can secure the site. Maybe they’ll have a guard dog she can wrestle or something.”

  Angie smiled. “I’ll cross my fingers.”

  “Can we go over the plan in detail?” Juno asked. “I mean, I’d just like to know exactly what we’re going to be doing.”

  Angie put her elbows on her knees. “Yeah, Captain, impress us by giving us just a bit more of your plan.”

  I rubbed my hands together and leaned back. “Okay, here’s what I propose …”

  Chapter 40

  When I was done, no one spoke. At least not for several minutes. At first I thought it was stunned silence. Like maybe they were so impressed they couldn’t find the words to tell me how brilliant I was.

  Then Angie spoke and shattered that illusion.

  “It’s like a plan a kid in middle school would come up with,” she said.

  Well … yeah.

  “It is really amateurish,” Rylee agreed, deflating me even further. Then she added, “But it might work.”

  Yaakov eyed me suspiciously, then nodded. “He’s not telling us everything.”

  “What?” Angie asked. “How do you know?”

  “Because it just doesn’t fit. He’s not revealing everything.”

  “Cambridge,” Juno pressed, “don’t leave us out of the loop. We’re a team.”

  Amara nodded. “It’ll be more effective if you let us in on at least a bit more.”

  “Guys,” I said, “this is our last challenge. We will not lose. I will not lose. We are winning this thing.”

  Juno licked his lips and nodded. “Yaakov’s right. He’s planning something else.”

  I groaned. “Can we just do this?”

  For the rest of the ride, everyone kept to themselves, lost, it seemed, in their thoughts. They had the same expressionless faces you’d see on professional athletes before an event. Like they were envisioning what they’d be doing when we arrived.

  An hour and a half later, the bus rolled to a stop on the curb outside of the Fourth Street subway station. We unloaded, and the driver leaned out of his seat.

  He pointed to an alley across the street. “This bus will be parked there until three fifteen.” He tapped his wrist. “Three fifteen. Not three sixteen. If you’re late, you find your own way back to camp. If you decide to put your disturbance into effect before that time, you will have five minutes after you execute to get to the bus, or I leave, and again, you find your own way back.” He turned around, pulled the doors closed, and the bus lurched forward.

  “He’s a real peach,” Angie said as the bus pulled away from the curb. “We’re really lucky to have such a sweetie for a driver.”

  “All right,” I said. “So I guess we better not be late for our ride. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

  Yaakov turned his back on the station and pointed across the street. “There’s the bakery.”

  The building was a bit run-down, but it was open, and I saw at least a couple people through the glass window.

  “And you and Angie can get in there even though there are people in there?” I asked. “Are you sure we’re not going to come back and find you arrested?”

  “It’s a bakery,” Angie said, “not a bank.”

  “Yeah,” Yaakov added. “We’ll cut the power for a few minutes, wait for people to leave, and then secure it. Besides, even if the cops did show up, they’d probably just think we were two kids breaking in to make out.”

  All eyes turned to Yaakov, and no one spoke for several seconds. Then everyone started laughing at the same time.

  “Making out?” Juno asked. “You and Angie?”

  Angie cracked up again. “Keep your hands to yourself, techie.”

  “You know what I meant,” Yaakov said.

  “Fine, fine,” I said. “Go.” I turned to Rylee. “You and Juno figure out the escape routes and the best places for a disturbance.”

  “And me?” Amara asked.

  “You and I will go get some fireworks.” Part of me wanted to go alone, but I wouldn’t know what to get. I’d probably end up with the wrong stuff, and we’d be in real trouble.

  I felt like a quarterback who’d just laid out a play to his team. It was exhilarating. I smiled to myself and then realized everyone was looking at me and quickly dropped my grin.

  “Right,” I said. “Let’s do it.” I checked my watch. “It’s just about ten o’clock. Let’s meet at the bakery at noon.” I felt like we should all put our hands into the center and give a team cheer. It was a fleeting thought, one that vanished instantly when everyone headed off in different directions.

  “You want to call your asset, right?” Amara asked. “There’s bound to be a phone over there.”

  “My asset, yeah. Right. A phone. Sure … yeah …” I rubbed my hands together. Okay. Here we go.

  “I’m sure there’s a phone inside the bakery,” Amara said.

  We didn’t have time to leave the station and double back to the bakery. I checked my watch, and then my hand went to the pieces of my cell phone, except I wasn’t sure how Amara would take my having a cell. I didn’t want him to see it.

  �
��I’ll find one,” I said. “You wait here.”

  “Wait here?” Amara’s eyebrows inched together. “Why would I wait here?”

  I shook my head. “I just have something to check on. I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

  Amara glanced at his watch. “Okay, but I need time to make modifications, Matt.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I ducked into the station, sprinted down one of the side halls, and squeezed between two blocks of lockers. I dug out the pieces of the phone, quickly put them together, and dialed Jason’s number. He picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Jason, it’s me.”

  “Cambridge?” His voice was a whisper.

  “Of course it’s me, you dolt.”

  “Shhh,” he said. “Dude, where have you been? I’ve sent you a dozen messages.”

  I’d known it was a smart move to break down the phone. Jason clearly didn’t understand the concept of “do not text.”

  “Look, man,” Jason continued, his words coming in a rushed whisper, “I uploaded those photos you sent me so I could track down some info for you, and, dude, the freaking FBI showed up at my door.”

  “What?” I pressed myself flatter between the lockers. “What are you talking about?”

  “They wanted to know where I got the pictures.”

  “What did you tell them?” I asked.

  “Dude,” Jason said, “it was the FBI. What do you think I told them?”

  I swore. “You told them I sent them to you?”

  “Not at first,” he said. “First I told them I snapped them last summer at that family reunion I had to go to. They hauled my parents in for questioning, Matt. Eventually they figured out that I’d lied, so I told them the pictures were from some random camp websites I thought looked good.”

  “Good thinking,” I said. My heart was pounding.

  “No!” Jason said. “Not good thinking. They searched my computer and knew in a second I was lying. More people came to the house, bro. And not just more FBI either.”

  “Who else?” My stomach sank as he said the three letters I hoped he wouldn’t say.

  “The CIA, Matt. The freaking FBI and the CIA both came here and accused me of lying.”

  “They’ll figure it out soon,” I said. “It’s only a matter of time. I bet they already have it narrowed down. I’ll be kicked out just for violating the rule against cell phones.”

  “I haven’t given them your name yet, man. I just told them a friend of mine is at a CIA camp.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They said I was lying since there’s no such thing. They said if I have a friend mixed up with some of the people in the pictures, then that friend—you—is in real danger.”

  A sigh escaped me. “Interrogation 101, Jason. The only danger I’m in is getting kicked out of the program. Just hang in there a couple more hours and it’ll all be over anyway. There’s still time.” It might have been wishful thinking, or maybe I was just trying to convince myself, but saying it out loud did just that. I believed it. “I can do this,” I said again. “I’m in the middle of the final competition right now. I just have to win. They’ll see that I belong here.”

  Jason cursed under his breath. “I don’t know. They made it sound like you were in a lot of trouble, man. Like, a lot! Like your life was in danger type of trouble.”

  “Jason, listen. I’m fine. I need your help, though. I’m going to pull that prank we talked about. The one at the station.”

  “You’re what?”

  “Shhh,” I said. “Look, that’s the challenge. I need to pull a prank. I need to cause a disruption. It’s the biggest one I could think of.”

  “We thought of that one,” Jason said. “Dude, that was supposed to be one we pulled together when we were old and didn’t care about going to prison.”

  “This is a CIA camp, Jay. I’m not going to go to jail even if I get caught. But I need your contact.”

  A pause several beats long carried through the phone before Jason said, “Are you sure? Are you one hundred percent sure that you’re in a CIA camp?”

  I considered that for a second because there was a part of me that hadn’t been sure a few hours ago. “They have ‘Property of the CIA’ etched into almost everything around the camp, Jason. One of the head instructors is a CIA interrogator. If you knew where to look, it would be obvious. Trust me. It’s CIA. One hundred percent.”

  Jason paused for a moment. “Well, those suits that keep coming over here are excellent actors, man. You should see them. They had my mom crying, and the only reason they went away was because my dad called his lawyer.”

  “I just need them to not find out until three o’clock,” I said.

  “What happens at three?”

  “The competition is over. If they come to question you again, don’t tell them anything until three. After that, it’s not going to matter. They’ll either be impressed with me, or not. They’ll either let me stay in the competition, or they’ll cut me from the program.”

  I could literally feel Jason’s frustration coming over the phone. “Okay, man. I’ll call my contact. Do you have a pen?” I pulled a pen out of my pocket. “He’s at a place called Rick’s Waffle House.”

  “You get your fireworks from a kid at a waffle house?”

  “Kind of.” When he was done giving me directions, he added, “The guy’s name is Kalvin, with a K, got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” Though I had no idea why it mattered how it was spelled.

  “I’ll let him know you’re coming,” Jason said. “He’ll put whatever you need on my tab.”

  “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  “Just remember,” Jason said, “the train station prank was our idea. Do it justice.”

  I laughed. “Watch the news, buddy. I’ll wave to the cameras.”

  I hung up and jogged back outside. Amara was where I’d left him, but he looked at me quizzically.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Cell phones are easy to listen in on, Matt.” His voice was smooth and unemotional.

  “You … heard my call?”

  “Not me,” he said. He glanced up at the sky. “But you can be sure we are being watched. Graded. Scored. Maybe they can’t hear us now, but snatching transmissions through airwaves,” he shrugged, “even I could rig something to do that.”

  “How’d you know?” I asked.

  “A guess,” he said. “That, or I went through your things back at camp and found the phone in your jeans.”

  “Can no one be trusted at that place?” I glanced at my watch. “C’mon. If they heard me, then we don’t have a lot of time.”

  Chapter 41

  Rick’s Waffle House was four stops away on the subway and had a tacky plastic waffle sculpture beside the entrance. A girl in her late teens greeted us as Amara and I pushed through the main doors. She had blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and she wore black pants that matched her short-sleeved shirt.

  “Table for two?” she asked, brandishing a pair of laminated menus.

  “We’re here to see Kalvin,” I said.

  The girl sighed and rolled her eyes. “Kalvin?”

  “Uh-huh.” I leaned toward her. “Kalvin with a K.”

  The girl shook her head. “Are you kidding?”

  I glanced at Amara. He looked like he was trying not to smile. I turned back to the girl. “No, I’m not kidding.”

  “Kalvin with a K?” She looked up at the ceiling and muttered something that sounded like a curse and then turned around and marched to a door a dozen feet away from us. She shoved it open and yelled, “Kalvin!” When there was no answer, she hollered again, “Kalvin with a K!”

  There was a rush of footsteps, and a boy about a foot shorter than me with scraggly red hair and bony arms rushed out of the door. He glared at the girl. “How many times do I have to tell you not to say that name so loud?”

  “You are such a dork,” the girl said. �
�I can’t even believe we’re related.”

  The boy pointed a finger in the girl’s face. “I know that you close the restaurant early on days Mom and Dad aren’t here. I’ll tell them.”

  The girl laughed. “And I’ll tell them what you’re really doing in the basement when your “friends” stop by. I’m sure Dad would be really interested.”

  They locked stares for a minute. I was pretty sure they’d had that exact dialogue a dozen times.

  There was a ding from somewhere in the dining area, and the girl jerked her gaze away. Then she turned to us. “This is Kalvin,” she said, gesturing to the boy, “with a K.” She rolled her eyes again and strolled back into the dining room.

  Kalvin stared at us carefully.

  “I, er …” I glanced at Amara, then back at the kid. “You’re Kalvin?”

  “I am,” the boy said. “Why? Not what you were expecting?”

  I shook my head. “No, you’re just—”

  “Short?” the boy snapped. “Is that what you’re about to say? That I’m too short to sell fireworks?”

  “Younger than I expected,” I said quickly.

  “And short,” Amara added.

  I shot Amara a look, and he shrugged.

  The boy’s hands became tiny fists at his side. “I am not short. I just haven’t hit my growth spurt yet.”

  Amara laughed. “That’s like saying, ‘I’m not stupid. I just haven’t learned anything yet.’”

  “Oh, yeah?” the boy said. “Well, you two can find a different place to buy what you want.”

  He turned to leave, and I reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait.” He spun around and punched me in the stomach. I pulled away from him, holding the spot where his tiny fist had jabbed me.

  “You’re not getting anything from me.” He turned to leave and then stopped and jerked around. “And you can tell Jason that he can go somewhere else too.”

  He pulled open the door he’d come out of a moment before, and I coughed. “I don’t think so, Kalvin.”

  He hesitated and then turned around.

  I cleared my throat and pointed in the direction of his sister. “She’s not the only one who could tell your parents what’s in the basement.”