City Spies

by James Ponti

“And you came here to see if I was a good fit for that team?”

  “That’s right,” said Mother.

  “Am I?”

  “So far, it’s quite promising,” he said, “but we can’t be certain until we conduct some more tests.”

  “What do you mean, more tests?” she said. “I haven’t taken any.”

  “Actually, you’ve taken two so far,” he answered. “First when I asked you to hack into the juvenile justice portal and make me your attorney. That’s performance under pressure. An essential skill.” He turned to Sydney. “She did it in under two minutes.”

  “Impressive,” said Sydney.

  “The second was trusting me in the courtroom,” he continued. “That demonstrated your ability to adapt to rapidly changing situations. Also essential.”

  “I wish I could’ve been there to see it,” said Sydney.

  “It’s too bad,” joked Mother. “I was sensational.”

  Sydney rolled her eyes and shared a look with Sara. “By the way, I did some shopping earlier.” Sydney handed her two department store bags. “I tried to guess your sizes and what you might like.”

  Sara looked in the bags. “You bought me clothes?”

  “Just to hold you over until we can get you a proper wardrobe,” she replied.

  “Although, most days you’ll wear your school uniform,” added Mother.

  Sara gave him a curious look. “My school doesn’t have a uniform.”

  “About that. You’re going to be enrolled in a new school called Kinloch Abbey.”

  “Sounds about as fake as Crunchem Hall,” she said. “Let me guess. It’s from James and the Giant Peach.”

  “No, this one’s not in a book,” Mother said. “It’s in Scotland.”

  Sara waited for him to laugh, but he didn’t. She waited some more, but there was still no laugh.

  “You’re serious?”

  “It’s a bit posh,” said Sydney. “After all, part of it’s in a castle. But once you get over that, you’ll like it.”

  “We’re going to Scotland?!”

  Instead of answering, Mother leaned toward the driver and asked, “Can you please turn left and take us to house number 197?”

  “We’re pressed for time,” Sydney reminded him. “If we miss this flight, we’ll lose an entire day.”

  “I know, I know,” he reassured her. “It’s just a quick detour for context. Besides, I really want to see it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sara interrupted, “but can we get back to the whole Scotland thing?”

  “Shortly,” Mother assured her as the limo parked in front of a three-story redbrick town house. “First, tell me what you know about Winston Churchill.”

  “Absolutely nothing,” she said blankly. “The name sounds … kind of familiar, but that’s it.”

  “Jaw-dropping,” he said disapprovingly. “Kinloch will take care of that in a tick. But, for now, just know that as prime minister during World War Two, Churchill saved Britain and quite possibly the world from annihilation. He’s a personal hero of mine and did more for the British Secret Intelligence Service than anyone else.”

  “Okay,” she said. “So why are you telling me this?”

  “Because his mother was born in this house.” He gestured out the window. “Think about that. The mother of the man who saved Britain wasn’t from London or Oxford or some grand estate out in Surrey. She was from Brooklyn, just like you. So it follows that we’d come full circle back here to find you. Brooklyn’s imprinted on our DNA.” He turned his attention back to the driver. “Okay, we can move along now.”

  The limo started again.

  “That’s interesting and all,” said Sara. “But it really doesn’t answer my question. Are you seriously taking me to Scotland? Because I don’t even have a passport.”

  He popped open his briefcase and handed her two British passports, each with her picture and a phony name. “Pick the one you like better.”

  “Of course,” she replied, shaking her head. “You have all the passports you want. How’d you get this picture of me?”

  “That bit about us being spies?” he said. “We’re exceptionally good at getting things. As to your first question, yes, we’re taking you to Scotland. Whether you stay there or not, however, will be entirely up to you.”

  “How do you mean?” she asked.

  “Soon you’ll start classes at Kinloch. It’s one of the top boarding schools in the UK. You’ll get a first-rate education. And if you’re happy there, you can continue until you graduate and leave for university. That’s option one.”

  “And if I don’t like it?” she asked.

  “Option two,” he answered. “If, at the end of the school year, you decide Kinloch’s not right for you or that you miss living in the States too much, we’ll find you a proper home back here in America. It won’t be like the ones you’ve been stuck in before. We’ll get you a good family. I’ll see to that. Although, we might want to avoid metropolitan New York because of the whole business about them believing that you’re in detention somewhere.”

  “Good point,” she said. “But what does any of that have to do with spies and MI6?”

  “Not a thing.” He leaned in conspiratorially and added, “Option three is the one that involves the Secret Intelligence Service.”

  She looked at both of them before saying, “Then option three is the one I want to hear about.”

  “You attend Kinloch not as a boarder but as a day student,” said Sydney. “And you live at the farm with Monty, me, and the rest of the team.”

  “Monty?” asked Sara. “Who’s that?”

  “Dr. Alexandra Montgomery,” said Mother. “She’s a biophysicist-slash-cryptologist who loves to bake. Think of her as part Marie Curie and part Mary Poppins.”

  “She’s brilliant,” said Sydney. “You’re going to love her.”

  “And the rest of the team?” asked Sara.

  “Kids like you and me who Mother’s found around the globe,” said Sydney. “They’re amazing.” She rethought this for a moment. “I mean, the boys totally drive me bonkers and I usually want to strangle them, but other than that they’re amazing.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Two boys and another girl,” she said. “Paris, Rio, and Kat. When you join the team, you have to create an entirely new identity. It’s hard to keep track of all the aliases and fake names, so we just call each other by where we’re from. That way we still have a small connection to our past.”

  “There’s a city called Kat?” asked Sara.

  “Kathmandu,” answered Mother. “It’s in Nepal but that’s rather a mouthful, so we just go with Kat.”

  “That means I’d be Brooklyn,” Sara said, liking the sound of it.

  “If you decide to join,” stressed Mother.

  “What does joining even mean?” she asked.

  “It means that in addition to your studies at Kinloch,” he said, “you’ll receive instruction in espionage, counterintelligence, self-defense, code-breaking, and other assorted goodies.”

  “My favorite assorted goody is explosives,” said Sydney. “I like making things go boom.”

  “So we’re talking spy school?”

  “Yes,” said Mother. “But not just school. We go on real missions. We face genuine danger.”

  “And you said that there’s a mission coming up that you want me to go on,” Sara replied.

  Mother sighed. “Normally, you receive extensive training before you go into the field, but we’re in a pinch at the moment. There’s an operation in three weeks, and we find ourselves one person down.”

  “And if that person’s me?”

  “Then I would limit your role as much as possible, but you would have to go into the field with us.”

  “Cool,” she said with a grin. “Sounds more fun than juvenile detention.”

  Sara would’ve asked more about the upcoming mission, but she was distracted when the limo turned down a familiar street. It was
her neighborhood and just the sight of it made her wince. Everything here was the opposite of boarding schools and castles. There were chain-link fences with razor wire, iron bars on windows, and graffiti covering the wall of an abandoned warehouse.

  “Why are we here?” she asked.

  “We’re about to cross an ocean,” he answered. “I thought you might like to stop by home before we left.”

  “This isn’t my home,” she corrected. “It’s a house where I lived. There’s a huge difference.”

  “Duly noted,” he said. “But either way, you won’t be returning. If there’s anything of sentimental value in there, now’s the time.”

  “There’s a shoebox with some things that are special to me,” she said. “But I can’t get it.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “The Clarks are home,” she said. “Considering I just tried to have them arrested, I doubt they’ll hand it over.”

  “Then let’s not tell them,” he replied.

  “You want me to break in?”

  “In the spy trade we call it a ‘black bag job,’ ” he said. “We’ll make this your first alpha test.”

  This brought a smile to Sydney’s face. “I like it.”

  “What’s an alpha test?”

  “Every mission has a team leader, called an alpha, who comes up with the plan and runs the operation,” he explained. “To prepare for that, we run alpha tests as practice.”

  “Except, I haven’t had any training,” Sara replied. “I don’t know how to plan a mission.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Sydney said firmly. “You already have the intel.”

  Sara gave her a confused look.

  “The intelligence,” Sydney explained. “You know the inner workings of the house. All you have to do is break down the variables and devise a scheme. For example, who’s inside right now?”

  Sara checked her watch. “It should just be the Clarks,” she said. “The kids are all either at day care or after-school programs for another forty-five minutes.”

  “Excellent, so we only have two people to deal with,” said Mother. “Where’s the shoebox?”

  “On the top shelf of my bedroom closet … which is on the third floor.”

  “That’s not ideal,” said Mother.

  “And the only way to get there is to go through the living room, where I’m sure Leonard is sitting in his recliner watching television and drinking a beer.”

  “Also less than ideal,” he said. “But it’s still clear-cut. You just need some sort of bait that will get them out of the way.”

  “That’s called the nugget,” said Sydney.

  “The nugget?” Sara asked.

  “Something to distract them,” answered Sydney. “To lure them from the living room.”

  “What do they find … irresistible?” asked Mother.

  “Beer … pizza …” Sara continued thinking as she studied the house. For her it was filled with memories of sadness and disappointment. She looked up at the roof where she and Gabriel had been locked out for an entire night. And that’s when the brainstorm hit. “… and money!” she said. “They love money.”

  “I don’t think we have enough cash for a bribe,” said Mother.

  “That’s okay,” Sara replied. “Just the idea of money should be enough to get them. Can you pass yourself off as an FBI agent?”

  “I’d need a wardrobe change,” Mother said.

  He opened his briefcase and pulled out a black tie, which he swapped with the stylish patterned one he was wearing. Then he took out his pocket square and put on a pair of dark sunglasses.

  “Wardrobe change complete,” he said. “What’s the plan?”

  4. The Alpha Test

  PERHAPS BECAUSE OF THEIR OWN dishonesty and criminal inclinations, Leonard and Deborah Clark viewed the United States government with deep-seated paranoia. Leonard was always on the lookout for the “surveillance drones” he claimed flew nightly missions over Brooklyn. “They’re spying on us,” he’d say angrily. “Our own government is spying on us.”

  It was this suspicion, combined with the Clarks’ unbridled greed, that formed the basis of Sara’s plan. She needed them out of the way long enough to slip up to her old room and come back down without being noticed. To do that, Mother had to lure them away with what he and Sydney had called the nugget.

  The limo driver parked around the corner, and the girls hid across the street behind a car, while Mother went up the stoop and rang the bell. As he always did, Leonard Clark peered through a side window to see who was there. After eyeing Mother suspiciously, he cracked the door slightly open and said, “What?”

  “Are you Leonard Clark?” Mother asked, using a Texas drawl and doing his best to project FBI cool and calm.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “The Federal Bureau of Investigation.” Mother flashed an official-looking badge. “I’m Special Agent Marlborough of the cybercrimes division.”

  Leonard shifted uneasily but said nothing.

  “I’m here because of your daughter,” Mother continued. “Sara Martinez.”

  “That girl’s not my daughter,” Clark replied, wagging an angry finger. “She’s a criminal who belongs in jail.”

  “Be that as it may,” said Mother, “it has come to our attention that she recently hacked into a bank and made a substantial withdrawal.”

  Clark’s eyes opened wide. “Did she take money out of my account? Because if she did …”

  “No, sir,” Mother replied. “The money was procured from the bank’s currency reserves. We have reason to believe she hid the cash here on the premises.”

  Suddenly the mention of cash hidden in his home put a smile on Clark’s face. “How much are we talking?”

  “I’m not at liberty to share that information,” responded Mother.

  “But you said it was ‘a substantial withdrawal.’ ”

  “Please, sir. If I could just come in.”

  Leonard began to formulate a strategy fueled entirely by greed. “Why do you want to come into my house?”

  “Obviously, I need to retrieve the money.”

  “You got a search warrant?” asked Leonard.

  “No, sir, I don’t,” Mother replied. “But I don’t actually need to search your property. I just need access to your roof.”

  “So that’s where she hid it,” said Clark. “Up on the roof. Clever girl. Devious, but clever.”

  “Please, sir,” said Mother. “It will only take a moment.”

  “Sorry, buddy. No warrant, no entry. I know my rights.”

  Mother played the part beautifully as he feigned frustration and pretended to call a superior. “The homeowner is noncompliant,” he said into his phone. “Activate drone retrieval.”

  “What?!” bellowed Clark. “You’re not coming at my house with them drones.”

  “You’ve given me no alternative,” said Mother. “They should be here any minute.” He looked to the sky as if waiting for a squadron of drones to swoop into action.

  Clark slammed the door shut, and Mother heard the sound of the bolt locking. He leaned over to the side window and pleaded, “Perhaps we can work out some sort of finder’s fee for you and your wife.”

  Leonard flashed a grin and yanked the curtains closed. Mother waited a moment before motioning the girls over from their hiding place.

  “How’d it go?” Sara asked as she dug in her pocket for her house key.

  “Just like you said it would,” answered Mother.

  She pressed her ear up to the window and listened until she heard the sound of the door to the roof slam shut.

  “They’re on the roof,” she said. “They’ll tear it apart looking for that money.”

  She unlocked the door and quietly raced up the stairs to the third floor with Sydney following close behind. They entered a room where three beds had been fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

  “Look at that,” Sara said, pointing at a bare mattress and empty nig
htstand. “They’ve already gotten rid of my stuff.”

  “Think they tossed your shoebox?” asked Sydney.

  “No way,” she said. “I hid it too well.”

  Sara stood on her tiptoes so she could reach the top shelf of the closet and groped around until she felt what she was looking for.

  “Got it,” she said as she carefully pulled down a pale blue box, its color faded with age. She held it tightly, making sure not to spill its contents. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Back in the hall they heard the commotion on the roof as the Clarks frantically searched for the nonexistent money. The plan had worked perfectly, and she and Sydney had an easy getaway … until Sara froze.

  She stood motionless and thought about the cruelty she’d witnessed from the Clarks. She looked at the closet where they’d locked Gabriel and thought about how scared he’d been that night on the roof.

  “Hurry up,” said Sydney. “We’ve got what we came for.”

  Sara looked at Sydney for a moment and then at the door to the roof, her anger building as she remembered the sound of Gabriel’s sobbing.

  “Sara!” Sydney said urgently. “Believe me when I say we don’t want them to catch us in this house. It could ruin everything.”

  Sara ignored her and went up the final flight to the roof access.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Letting them know how it feels.” Sara reached for the door and turned the lock, trapping them on the roof. “That’s for Gabriel.”

  Sydney sighed. “Okay, I like that. But can we go now?”

  “You bet we can,” Sara said. “I don’t ever want to see this dump again.”

  They rushed down the stairs and burst out the front door. Just as they reached the sidewalk, they could hear Deborah Clark call to her husband.

  “The door, Lenny! It’s locked!”

  The limo pulled up, stopping just long enough for them to hop in. They were still laughing as they pulled away down the street.

  “I missed something,” Mother said, looking at the two of them. “What’s so funny?”

  “I locked them on the roof,” Sara said, satisfied. “Just like they did to Gabriel and me.”

  “That wasn’t part of the plan,” said Mother.