‘Don’t remind him, though,’ Max said. ‘His head’s big enough without any help from us.’
‘Wasn’t that the time I saved you in Venice?’ The voice behind them was unmistakable. ‘It’ll be hard to find a suitable way to thank me for that one.’ Toby shook his head. ‘But I’m sure you’ll come up with something.’
‘You’re my hero.’ Max pretended an adoring look.
‘I knew you’d finally admit it.’
‘You know what I like about you most?’ Max asked.
‘My charm? My good looks? My –’
‘Humility.’
‘Ah, yes, that’s good too.’ He straightened his tie.
Linden laughed.
‘Don’t encourage him, he’ll think he’s actually funny.’
‘Funny and stylish.’ Toby brushed the sleeve of his jacket. ‘What do you think of the suit?’
‘It looks good,’ Linden said.
‘I wanted to look my best. Even though it’s hard for me not to.’
‘I think that might be a record,’ Max said.
‘A record for what?’ Toby asked.
‘The shortest amount of time taken for me to get over you and your ego.’ She walked ahead into the maze of video archives.
‘Nice to see Max is her warm and fuzzy self,’ Toby said.
‘You know Max. She’s not about to change for anyone.’ Linden smiled. ‘Which I like.’
‘Don’t tell her.’ Toby watched her disappear into the crowd. ‘But I do too.’
The end of the corridor opened out into a grand ballroom. A huge dome ceiling shimmered with silver helium-filled balloons and spinning mirror balls, which cast sparkled light over candlelit tables and formally dressed agents. A brass band swirled music into the air as more waiters expertly hovered between the excited hands of agents, carrying trays of Irene’s finest creations. At various points around the room, standing on marble pedestals, were fountains of tropical juices with glasses strung around the edges, while others bubbled with streaming melted chocolate surrounded by bowls nestled on ice and crammed with strawberries.
The walls were decorated with long, unfurled banners bearing the photographs of agents past and present, and at the end of the room behind a stage a bright projection with a revolving globe declared:
‘Mood flower?’ An agent dressed in a white suit with butterfly wings on his back floated before Max and handed her a short-stemmed white flower.
‘What’s a mood flower?’ Max asked.
‘They change colour according to your mood. White is neutral, yellow is happy, green is jealous, black is angry, red is for love. They were made by Frond and her team in the Plantorium especially for tonight.’
The winged agents hovered away as the room filled with bobbing yellow flowers.
‘I see you have your flower.’
‘Aaah! How do you just appear like that?’ Max asked, her flower tinged with yellow.
‘I have a light touch,’ Linden answered. ‘Ready to party?’
Linden’s flower was bright yellow.
‘Yes,’ Max smiled broadly, ‘I think I am.’
‘Max! Linden!’
Max turned to see the beaming face of Ella through the crowd. Her mother, Valerie, had worked as a scientist with Ben and Eleanor in London and Ella, much to Max’s dislike, had joined her and Linden on some early missions.
‘Ella’s here.’ Max didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in her voice.
‘Yeah, she told me she was coming.’ Linden waved her over.
‘You knew she’d be here?’
‘Yeah. We talk a lot on the Communication, Tracking and Recording Device her mother made.’
‘She’s cute.’ Toby walked up behind them. He’d stuck his flower in his lapel, and it blazed yellow against his black jacket.
‘I didn’t know you still spoke with her.’ Max’s face resembled someone who’d sucked a lemon. Her flower faded.
‘Oh yeah. She always asks about you.’
‘She sounds nice,’ Toby said.
‘She’s a real sweetie.’ Max saw that her flower had begun to turn green and flung it behind her back.
Ella picked her way through the crowd with a big-toothed smile usually reserved for Miss Universe contests.
‘Isn’t this nice to have the old team back together again?’ Ella’s flower was as bright as an overripe mango.
Max tried to dodge out of her way but was too late. Ella had launched into an all-embracing hug, her perfectly springy curls tickling Max’s nose.
‘It’s hard to imagine anyone else I’d rather be with.’ Max wormed her way out of the hug.
‘I know you don’t mean that,’ Ella smiled, ‘but thanks anyway.’
‘Toby,’ Linden said, ‘this is Ella.’
Toby took her hand and kissed it. ‘Linden told me about you, but he forgot to mention how pretty you are.’
Ella giggled and flicked her curls into the air. Max burned.
‘So it’s only natural for you to be seen with the most handsome man in the room,’ Toby continued.
Max stared at him. ‘Don’t you have someone else to annoy?’
‘Nope. Lucky for you, I’m all yours for the whole night and for tomorrow’s training session, too.’
‘That’s supposed to be lucky, is it?’
‘Most girls would think it is.’
‘I guess I’m not most girls.’ Max shook her head.
Ella had cupped her hand and was whispering into Linden’s ear. ‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ he laughed.
‘This is going to be a fun night, don’t you think?’ Ella’s Miss Universe smile returned even bigger than before.
‘I couldn’t have more fun if I jammed my head in a door.’ Max kept her flower firmly behind her back.
‘Sorry?’ Ella asked.
‘I need to go to the bathroom.’ As Max turned away she swung her flower in front of her.
‘Don’t be long,’ Toby said. ‘You know you can’t stand being away from me. In fact … Stop!’
He was too late. Max had turned directly into a tray of Irene’s famous blue honey mash and caviar canapés. The silver tray crashed to the floor with a clang, along with Max’s ego.
Ella reached into her bag for a hanky, but Toby and Linden grabbed her arm and stopped her.
‘She prefers to deal with these little mishaps on her own,’ Toby whispered.
Max’s flower darkened. ‘Why do I have to run into the tray with the fish eggs?’
She plucked the waiter’s napkin from his arm and tried to wipe off the slimy goop but only succeeded in creating a long fishy smudge down her dress before she gave up, gathered as much dignity as she could and walked towards Steinberger. She stole one last look at Linden and her heart stumbled. His eyes were focused on Ella as if she was the only person in the room. Both boys were holding their sides and laughing as she threw her arms into the air with another of her stories.
Max held her nose against the pong of her fish-egged dress and turned into the crowd.
The Administration Manager of Spyforce was a man of professionalism and excellence. With his impeccable organisational skills, he was largely responsible for even the smallest detail of Spyforce’s anniversary party. Max found him standing beside a fountain of bubbling, warm chocolate. She picked a plump, juicy strawberry, swiped it through the melted chocolate pool and took a bite.
‘Steinberger, is there any chance …’ Max noticed something odd about him. His breathing was strained and his fingers gripped a glass of orange juice so tightly it looked as if he’d squeezed the blood from them. His eyes were wide and slightly panic-stricken.
Max sighed. There was only one thing that could turn this man from a fountain of sophistication to someone about to collapse into a gibbering, gasping heap: Frond, the head of the Plantorium, who was standing with a group of agents nearby.
She wore her red rose-shaped glasses, and her normally beehived hair was flowing in a smooth wave o
ver the back of her long black dress.
Steinberger’s flower rested in his lapel. It was bright red.
‘Steinberger?’ Max tried again.
The strained breathing, glass clasping and the adored staring continued but was now accompanied by a small high-pitched whine.
‘Steinberger?’
Nothing.
‘Great, now I feel smelly and invisible. How much better is this night going to get?’
She clicked her fingers in front of his nose. ‘Steinberger?’
‘Ah, Max. How lovely to see you. Where did you appear from?’
‘I’ve been standing here for awhile.’
‘Well, it’s very nice to see …’ He pointed at her dress. ‘You seem to have something …’
Steinberger noticed Toby, Linden and Ella shaking their heads at him from across the room and waving their hands in warning. Steinberger withdrew his hand and went back to clasping his glass, only not nearly as tightly as before.
‘So what do you think of our little anniversary party then?’
‘I didn’t realise there’d be so many old faces.’ Her flower became even darker as she shot a quick look at Ella, who’d gone back to telling a story that had Toby and Linden again doubled-over with laughter.
‘Yes, that is one of the lovelier aspects of this party. It’s always good to catch up with old friends.’
‘Mmm …’ Max pursed her lips. ‘Speaking of old friends, have you heard anything about Blue lately?’
‘You mean, Theodoran Blue?’
‘It gives me the creeps just hearing his name.’
The redness faded from Steinberger’s flower and his face wrinkled into a frown. ‘The last we knew of him is when he fell from the cliffs bordering his Scottish castle.7 There was a concerted effort by spy agencies around the world and Interpol to trace him in the event that he had survived, but they found nothing, so concluded he lost his life at sea. Why do you ask?’
‘I had a dream about him this morning. It was eerie seeing his face again, even if it was just in my imagination.’
‘Blue always had the ability to leave a person feeling uneasy but, rest assured, the upgrade to Spyforce’s security system has been completed and has undergone a full system check this past week in preparation for the party.’ He leant down and smiled in an attempt to banish Max’s frown. ‘All we have to do now is enjoy the festivities. Aaah!’
‘Steinby, you old devil.’ Ben had crept up and wrapped Steinberger in one of his can’t-escape-from-me hugs. ‘You’ve scrubbed up well tonight. Anyone here you’re trying to impress?’
‘Impress? Me? No. The people here are my colleagues and friends. Who would I want to impress?’
‘Who indeed?’ Ben raised a curious eyebrow before dunking a strawberry into the chocolate, tossing it in the air and catching it in his mouth.
‘You’re looking as handsome as you always do.’ Eleanor leant in for a kiss that left Steinberger blushing.
‘Ah, there you all are,’ Chief Harrison said. ‘Lovely to squeeze you, as always.’ Harrison cringed. ‘Oh, bother it. I mean, of course, that it’s lovely to see you again. There won’t be any squeezing of agents done tonight. Not while I’m in charge.’
Max noticed a bandage tucked under the sleeve of Harrison’s jacket. ‘Are you okay, sir?’
‘Oh this?’ He held up the injured hand. ‘Why yes, nothing more than a small incident with a welder and an electric toothbrush.’
Next to Max, Harrison was lucky to be alive considering how clumsy he was.
‘But enough about my wrist. It is good of you all to be here,’ Harrison said. ‘How is Francis?’
‘Right now,’ Ben said, ‘I’d say he is deliriously happy colliding the nuclei of atoms in Grayson’s heavy-ion accelerator.’
‘Ah yes, that would be an enticing prospect.’
‘He would have loved to have been here,’ Eleanor added, ‘but give Francis the choice between a party and a lab, and science will always win over sequins.’
‘Plans for the Time and Space Machine going well?’ Harrison asked.
‘That’s partly why he’s in New York,’ Ben said as he swallowed another strawberry. ‘We’re trying to perfect the process of creating more energy to operate the machine. We fear the energy from the Aurora stone isn’t as powerful as we had hoped for time travel.’
‘So it isn’t ready to be tested by the agents yet?’
‘Not yet,’ Eleanor answered. ‘We’ve run a few tests, but last week Francis travelled back in time but had trouble returning. We’re hoping his work in New York will answer a few questions and enable us to make the machine completely safe.’
‘Well, if there are any scientists in this world who can do it, it’s the three of you. And if there is anything you need from Spyforce, be sure to let Steinberger and I know.’
‘I’ll be at your service.’ Steinberger raised his glass to Ben and Eleanor.
‘Happy anniversary, everyone.’
Both Steinberger’s happy manner and his glass slipped from his fingers at the appearance of Frond. It smashed to the floor, sending a spray of orange juice over the small group’s shoes. His flower blushed faint red.
Steinberger and Frond bent down simultaneously to clean up the mess and clashed heads.
‘I’m sorry … I didn’t … It seems –’
‘Don’t worry, Steinby.’ Frond rubbed her forehead. ‘Hardly hurt a bit.’
The wince on her face told Max otherwise as a swarm of waiters swooped in to clean up before scurrying away, leaving the agents standing in slightly damp shoes and a very awkward pause.
‘You’re looking very dashing tonight, Steinberger.’ Frond broke the silence. ‘Is there someone here you’re trying to impress?’
Ben and Harrison swapped wry smiles.
Max rolled her eyes at the sound of breath struggling to escape Steinberger’s lungs.
‘Impress? Me? No.’
‘It seems your flower thinks otherwise.’ Frond smiled.
‘I … it’s … maybe …’
‘It’d be lovely to stay and chat longer,’ Harrison looked at his watch, ‘but I’m going to have to borrow Steinberger so we can begin official weedings. Oh blast, of course I mean begin official proceedings.’
‘Yes, absolutely sir.’ Steinberger managed to complete a whole sentence. ‘If you’ll excuse us.’ He caught Frond’s eye. ‘It’s been … how wonderful to … have a fine –’
‘You can finish those sentences later, Steinberger.’ Harrison directed him away. ‘For now, we have a party to start.’
Max grabbed a raspberry fruit crush from a passing waiter. ‘He’s really got to get over it,’ she said.
‘Get over what?’ Frond toyed with her diamond necklace and genuinely looked puzzled.
‘Never mind.’
‘I must go too,’ Frond said. ‘I’m part of what is happening next.’
Max watched her weave her way to the stage. ‘Steinberger’s crush on her is the size of Everest. How can she not know?’
‘Some people don’t see love,’ Eleanor said. ‘Even when it is right in front of them.’
Max focused on sipping her icy drink but, as she tipped her head back, her eyes landed on a laughing Ella leaning into Linden and messing up his hair. Her flower turned a greenish tinge, and she felt a kind of hunger pain tug at her stomach despite not feeling one bit hungry. Or thirsty. She turned away to find somewhere to put her drink and noticed a black tuxedoed waiter moving in the shadows at the back of the room. Unlike the others, he wasn’t on hover shoes and he seemed to slip a small, silver object into his jacket.
An object about the size of a gun.
Harrison and Steinberger stepped onto the stage. The band came to a stop and a thudding sound rebounded around the room as Steinberger tapped the microphone. All eyes except Max’s turned to the stage.
Away from the waiter.
And the gun.
‘Secret agents and friends.’ Steinberger lo
oked much more in control now that he was away from Frond. He spoke triumphantly into the microphone, ‘Welcome to the 50th anniversary celebrations of Spyforce.’
The room exploded into a storm of applause and whistles.
Steinberger nodded to Professor Quimby, the head inventor at Spyforce, who was positioned just behind the stage. She threw a switch on a remote control. The lights dimmed and the roof, with its jouncing balloons, came alive with the sight and sounds of virtual fireworks. Applause and cheers thundered down like rain.
Max put her drink and flower on a nearby table and kept her eyes trained on the waiter in the flickering lights. The waiter whose hand hadn’t moved. It lay there in his jacket. Ready. Waiting.
Max had to think; she had to act now or the future of Spyforce would be in grave danger. But before she could move, the waiter’s hand withdrew from his jacket holding a silver corkscrew. He swiftly plunged it into a bottle of wine and opened it for a group of agents standing beside him.
Max laughed to herself. Her dream about Blue had left her nervy so that now she was imagining waiters with guns.
‘Are you okay?’ Eleanor asked.
‘Yes, everything’s fine.’
Eleanor hugged her niece. Max melted into her aunt’s silky layers and rose soap smell. She lost herself in the fuss and colour of the fireworks and looked around the room that bobbed with bright yellow flowers in the hands of agents she’d worked with over her nine missions with Spyforce. There was Suave, Dretch, Irene, Sleek, Dr Finch and Professor Plomb, the Spyforce bomb expert who was so frightened of loud noises that he wore large fluffy earmuffs and felt-bottomed shoes wherever he went. Including tonight.
‘This evening we celebrate a very special occasion,’ Steinberger continued after the fireworks had died down. ‘And now, it is my pleasure and privilege to give you the founder and leader of this most esteemed establishment, Chief Reginald Harrison.’
Chief Harrison approached the microphone to the adoring whistles and applause of his agents. He waved his hands to quieten them down.
‘Spyforce has had a proud history,’ Harrison began. ‘After its creation by me and my father, Harrison Senior, its success has been down to you. This agency has trained some of the world’s most skilled agents in fighting crime. You put your life on the line in dedication to the Force and to the betterment of this great and, at times, messy world of ours. You work in secrecy, and the world’s population knows nothing of what you do to keep them safe. But I count it as my special privilege to know you all.’
The Final Curtain Page 3