City Spies

by James Ponti

  PONT DE L’ALMA—ALMA BRIDGE

  Because the Metro stations near the rally were closed for security, Mother and Sydney had to run from the Eiffel Tower toward the Olympus building. As they sprinted across the Alma Bridge, Mother called Monty on his cell.

  “Get to the embassy,” he said breathless. “Tru will be waiting for you. Tell her everything we know.”

  CLIMATE CONTROL ROOM—OLYMPUS BUILDING

  Originally the plan had been to set off an explosion during the press conference. That would’ve been big and made headlines. But Rada was the one who thought of using the virus instead. Perhaps it was because of his background in chemistry.

  “It will not kill anyone immediately,” the Professor said when he pitched the idea to Le Fantôme. “In fact, they will not even exhibit any symptoms for five or six days. This is good because they will be infected when they return to their intelligence agencies to report on what happened. They will spread the virus at CIA headquarters in Washington and at MI6 headquarters in London. It will spread wherever we have enemies. And then, when the people start to get sick, it will be too late for them to stop it.”

  Before he could inject the virus into the climate control system, Rada had to put on a special BSL-4–positive pressure suit. This was more commonly known as a “spacesuit” because it looked like something an astronaut would wear. He needed to make sure no part of him was exposed to the virus. If a drop of it touched his skin, it would almost certainly be fatal.

  EXTERIOR WALL—OLYMPUS BUILDING

  Brooklyn had worked her way uneasily along the cornice and reached the copper drainpipe. For this stage she was supposed to shimmy up the pipe to the next floor, but found herself frozen with fear. She tried not to think of what was at stake, but it was overwhelming as her mind flooded with thoughts of people in danger and her difficulties during training. It only got worse when she looked down at the ground more than thirty feet below.

  She tried to repeat the Motherism, but she couldn’t even do that. She just stood there on the ledge, clinging to the drainpipe, the copper cool to her touch.

  Then she thought about the catacombs. When she was frozen with fear, Paris had told her what to do. Point yourself in the right direction, and follow your eyes, he’d said. You are much braver than you realize.

  COMPUTER LABORATORY—OLYMPUS BUILDING

  Juliette’s frustration had grown. It was time for the team to head to the auditorium, but there was still no sign of Brooklyn.

  “She’s not in the restroom,” Kat said when she returned. “She’s got to be here somewhere.”

  “That’s it,” said Juliette. “I’m calling security. I’ll have them locate her by her badge.”

  “Wait a second.”

  They turned to see that it was Charlotte.

  “Are you looking for Brooklyn?” she asked.

  “Yes,” answered Juliette. “Do you know where she is?”

  Charlotte looked at the team and read their angry expressions, which she ignored. “I saw her going someplace she shouldn’t,” she said.

  Paris couldn’t believe that Charlotte would turn on them like this. She’d been a part of the team for years, and now she was selling them out. “Are you sure it was her?” he asked, giving her one last chance to change her mind.

  “Positive,” said Charlotte. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”

  Charlotte set off with Juliette, and the others followed close behind.

  “She walked over toward the bathroom,” Charlotte said. “But then she went in here.”

  They reached a utility closet.

  Juliette used her electronic key to open the door, and when she did, Charlotte shoved her into the closet, trapping her inside.

  “Hold the door closed,” Charlotte instructed Paris.

  A stunned Paris pressed his body against the door and kept it shut while Juliette protested from inside, her cries muffled by the door. Charlotte started typing on the electronic keypad.

  “What are you doing?” asked Kat.

  “Overriding the system and locking the door,” she said. “I bet your friend Brooklyn can’t do this.”

  The pad made a beeping noise, and Charlotte smiled.

  “It’s good,” she said to Paris. “She can’t get out.”

  “But …,” Paris said, confused.

  “Tell Mother this is my way of apologizing,” said Charlotte. “Tell him I said I was sorry.”

  PARIS-LE BOURGET AIRPORT

  Le Fantôme stood in the hangar and watched as his paintings were carefully loaded onto a private jet. Included among them was the Renoir of the young girl. When he reached his new home, he would hang it over his desk again, so that she could watch over him and he could remember his sister.

  CLIMATE CONTROL ROOM—OLYMPUS BUILDING

  Now fully protected by his spacesuit, Rada was ready. He opened the silver case and pulled out a vial marked XUHET.

  He took out a syringe to extract the virus from the vial and inject it into the clear plastic tube that delivered extra oxygen into various rooms each afternoon. He’d already overridden the program so that all the oxygen would be delivered to the Workshop, where the virus would become airborne.

  He wasn’t used to wearing the spacesuit and found it cumbersome to move around. The thick rubber gloves made it difficult to manipulate the syringe, and the helmet made it hard to hear, which was why he didn’t notice Brooklyn coming up from behind.

  She used the element of surprise, and a kick she’d learned one summer in a YMCA karate class, to momentarily stagger him. This gave her just enough time to grab the vial.

  “Put that down,” Rada commanded once he regained his balance.

  “Back off,” she said, waving the vial like a weapon. “Or I’ll release this.”

  The plastic helmet of the spacesuit muffled his booming laugh.

  “It will do me no harm,” he said. “This suit will keep me safe.” Then he held up the syringe, its silver needle reflecting in the light. “You, however, have no such protection.”

  Brooklyn’s eyes opened wide at the sight of the needle.

  He moved toward her, and, in a fit of panic, she flung the vial across the room.

  “You’ll have to get it first,” she said, waving the fingers of her now-empty hand.

  “Stupid girl!” he yelled. “If that breaks, everything is ruined!”

  “Not my problem,” she responded as she sprinted toward the door.

  He was torn for a moment, uncertain if he should go after her or the virus. It didn’t help that he was wearing the spacesuit. Maybe if he wasn’t, he would’ve noticed the vial was now in her left hand.

  All that practice with Rio had paid off. She’d swapped it from one hand to the other with a perfectly executed French Drop. Now she had to get out of the building before Rada figured out what she’d done.

  35. The Three Lions

  IT TOOK RADA LONGER TO get out of the spacesuit than it did for him to realize Brooklyn still had the virus. This gave her enough time to find the stairwell she needed to take in order to escape the building. Even though she’d studied the layout of the fifth floor during her training at Pinewood, in her nervousness she took a couple of wrong turns before she finally found the right way.

  She ran down the stairs so fast, she almost tripped twice and needed to grab onto the handrail to keep from wiping out. One time this caused her to bobble the vial, and she had to snatch it in midair before it hit the second-floor landing and shattered.

  Stay cool, she said to herself. Stay cool.

  When she reached the emergency exit on the ground level, she could hear Rada rushing down the stairs above her. The alarm sounded as she flung open the door and started sprinting down the sidewalk. It was three blocks to the Three Lions. If she could make it there, she could get to the tunnel and the British embassy.

  An angry driver honked at her when she darted across the street, and the sound helped Rada spot her as he emerged from the building.
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  Brooklyn knew he was behind her, but she didn’t turn to look. She just ran as fast as she could, careful to hold the vial tight enough so that she didn’t drop it, but not so tight that it might break open in her hand.

  She thought back to the beach in Aisling, where she and Sydney ran every morning.

  “This isn’t just exercise,” Sydney had told her that first day. “We need to get you in spy shape.”

  This was what she meant. This was “spy shape.”

  The memory put a smile on her face, and she tried to pick up her pace.

  Finally the Three Lions came into view. But, as fast as she was running, Rada was going faster—and getting closer.

  She burst through the door and yelled for help. “Reggie!”

  Then she looked up and saw the most unexpected thing: a sign on the counter that read BACK IN FIVE MINUTES.

  “Reggie!” she called frantically.

  She spun around and saw that Rada had almost reached the door.

  “Reggie!” she yelled one more time as she rushed to the linen closet so that she could reach the tunnel.

  She went to type the code into the lock, but couldn’t remember it. “What is it? What is it?” she asked herself. “When did England win the World Cup?”

  “1966,” said a thickly accented voice.

  It was Rada. He’d caught up with her, and there was still no sign of Reggie. There was no sign of anyone else.

  “They didn’t deserve to win, by the way,” he added. “West Germany were the better team.”

  “Back off,” Brooklyn said, holding the vial up for him to see. “If you take one step closer, I will throw this against the floor, and we’ll both be dead. You don’t have your fancy suit to protect you anymore.”

  “I don’t fall for that twice,” said Rada. “You’re not going to throw the vial. You are going to hand it to me.”

  “Are you willing to take that risk?” she asked him.

  He took a step toward her, and she motioned like she was going to throw it against the ground, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

  His smile grew bigger.

  He took another step, and just as he was about to reach for her, the smile disappeared and his substantial body crumpled to the floor, landing face-first with a loud thump.

  Brooklyn didn’t realize what had happened until she saw what was sticking out of his neck: a feathered dart from Reggie’s tranquilizer gun.

  She almost collapsed with relief.

  “I didn’t think you were going to make it,” said Brooklyn. “I kept calling for you.”

  She looked up expecting to see Reggie, but instead a woman she didn’t recognize was holding his cane.

  “Good thing Reg keeps a couple of extras around,” said the woman. “By the by, England totally deserved the Cup in sixty-six.”

  Brooklyn didn’t know what to make of her. Was she a friend? An enemy? She stood motionless, and then both of them looked at the vial in Brooklyn’s hand.

  “You better hurry up and get that to the embassy,” she said.

  Friend.

  “Thank you,” answered Brooklyn.

  She typed in the code, and the door opened.

  “But before you go,” said the woman, “take this.” She handed Brooklyn a thumb drive. “Give it to Mother, and tell him to stop looking for the kids.”

  “You know Mother?” Brooklyn said, confused. Then she looked at the woman again. “Wait a second. You’re his wife, aren’t you? You’re Clementine!”

  The woman didn’t answer the question. Instead she said, “Tell him Robert and Annie are healthy and happy and that he has to stop looking.”

  “But …”

  “Quickly,” the woman said. “This situation is about to get worse, and you don’t want to be here when he wakes up.”

  Brooklyn paused for a second and realized she was right. She studied the woman for a moment more and then ran toward safety.

  36. The Embassy

  BROOKLYN WOKE UP IN A comfortable bed located in a section of the British embassy known as the Residence. She wasn’t exactly sure how she got there. She remembered running through the tunnel, the sound of an alarm going off, and someone taking the vial and telling her everything would be all right.

  She thought that that someone was Monty, although she didn’t know why Monty would’ve been at the embassy. So that part might have been her mind playing tricks on her.

  Either way, once she’d handed over the vial, she’d collapsed from a combination of mental and physical exhaustion. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep, but when she woke, the first thing she saw was Sydney sitting at her bedside looking down at her.

  “Well if it isn’t Brookie the Rookie,” Sydney said sweetly. “Why am I always having to wake you up?”

  They both smiled.

  Brooklyn sat upright. Everyone was there.

  “I think I told you that you didn’t have to climb the wall,” joked Mother.

  “I think I told you that I could do it,” Brooklyn replied proudly. “And I did!”

  “Yes, you most certainly did,” he said.

  “How’d you sneak the virus out?” asked Paris.

  “The French Drop,” Brooklyn said. She turned to Rio and added, “You’re a good teacher.”

  Rio looked at her and smiled. And, though it was brief, for the first time the two of them had a connection as he answered, “You’re a good student.”

  “French Drop’s appropriate, I guess,” said Monty. “Considering this is Paris.”

  Kat sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes full of emotion, and without saying a word wrapped Brooklyn up in a big hug.

  Brooklyn was caught so off guard that she didn’t know how to react at first. But after a second, she hugged Kat right back and said, “I’m glad to see you, too.”

  “When we get back to the FARM,” Kat said, “you can come into my room and borrow any items of mine that you want.”

  This elicited hoots from the others.

  “Now I have seen everything!” exclaimed Paris. “Absolutely everything!”

  Kat laughed through her tears.

  “You’ll have to tell us what she has in there,” said Sydney. “She’s never let any of us see.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, and Mother stepped into the hallway. When he came back, he said, “There is a very tall woman with a limp and nine fingers who’d like to speak to you. If you’re ready.”

  “Let her in,” said Brooklyn.

  Tru entered the room and had each member of the team tell her their version of what happened. She informed them that Stanislav Rada had been taken into custody and was being flown to a secret location somewhere in the north of France.

  “We’re going to work together with our French partners to see what information we can get out of him about Umbra,” she said. “But I think it’s safe to say he’ll never see the light of a free day again.”

  “What about Stavros Sinclair?” asked Paris.

  “As far as we can prove, he’s done nothing illegal,” said Tru. “We’re keeping an eye on him, but that’s it for now.”

  “And the prize?” asked Brooklyn. “Who won?”

  “That school you like in New York,” said Rio.

  “The Metropolitan Institute of Science and Technology?”

  “That’s the one,” he answered.

  “Nice,” said Brooklyn. “It just goes to show you, New Yorkers got mad skills.”

  They all laughed.

  “Yeah,” said Sydney. “We’ve kind of seen that firsthand.”

  “It’s too bad they get all that money, though,” said Rio. “A million euros. We could’ve done a lot with that.”

  “Don’t feel too jealous,” said Tru. “You may not have won the Stavros Prize, but your performance here in Paris has more than guaranteed MI6 will continue to fund Project Neverland for quite some time.”

  “Project Neverland?” asked Brooklyn.

  “Yeah,” Sydney said unenthus
iastically. “That’s our official name.”

  “I don’t like it,” said Brooklyn.

  “Nobody does,” she replied.

  “Well, I think it’s clever,” said Tru. “Mother’s Peter Pan. Monty’s Tinkerbell. And the FARM is Neverland.”

  “What does that make us?” asked Brooklyn.

  “The Lost Boys,” Kat said with disdain.

  “What?!” said Brooklyn. “That can’t be right. First of all, we’re not lost. And second of all, three of us are definitely not boys!”

  “Well,” Tru said, scrambling. “Code names aren’t meant to be literal.”

  “If I’m being honest,” said Monty, “now that we’re talking about it, I don’t much care for Tinkerbell. She was pretty scatterbrained, and a spoiled brat.”

  “I don’t mind it,” said Mother.

  “Of course not,” said Monty. “Peter Pan’s the hero. The boy who never grew up. That is you.”

  As the tone of the conversation reached near mutiny, Tru held up her hands to silence everybody. “All right, all right,” she said. “Just out of curiosity, what would you like to be called?”

  All eyes turned to Brooklyn, who’d started this.

  “Well … we all use our hometowns as our names,” she said, thinking out loud. “And we’re spies. So … how about … the City Spies.”

  “Ooh, I like it,” said Sydney. “I like it a lot.”

  “Me too,” said Paris.

  “I like the fact that it uses a pattern,” said Kat. “I approve.”

  “I’m sold,” said Rio. “Call us the City Spies.”

  Tru looked around the room and saw that everybody was in agreement.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

  As the celebratory mood continued, Brooklyn got up and walked over to Mother.

  “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “Come with me.”

  They walked into an adjoining room, which was set up as a home office with bookcases, a desk, and a computer.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Mother.

  “There’s something I left out,” she said. “I didn’t want to say it in front of anybody else. At least not until I told you first.”