Steinberger pulled a hanky from his jacket and wiped a tear from his eye as another round of applause rang through the room.
‘I would like to offer a special thanks to Eleanor and Ben, just two of the many scientists Spyforce works with to create some of the world’s most technologically advanced gadgets. Their most important work to date has been the creation of the Time and Space Machine. An invention that, after many years of unwearying research and hard work, has realised the dream of scientists for hundreds of years: the secret of time travel.’
A spotlight fell on Ben, who raised his and Eleanor’s hand to meet the applause in a kind of champions’ salute, before sweeping Max up in his arms for everyone to see. ‘Never could have done it without this one.’
Max wriggled in Ben’s hold and the glare of the light. He paraded her in the air like a proud dad, making sure the whole room saw her, before lowering her to the floor. She pulled her dress back into shape, relieved when the focus and the spotlight finally turned away from them.
‘The machine isn’t quite ready to be handed over to Quimby’s lab yet, but it will be very soon,’ Harrison continued. ‘And I can’t let the night end without a heartfelt and open-armed thank you to the Spyforce chef of chefs, Irene. If you try only one thing tonight, make it the frog legs with wasabi.’
Irene brushed away the raucous cheer that rose into the air.
‘My most humble gratitude also goes to Dr Frond and her team from the Plantorium, whose inquiring minds manage to gently use the plant world to create some of Spyforce’s most effective gadgets: sneeze powder, invisibility cream, Knock-Out Spray and, on the commercial side, her anti-sag ointment and buttocks-firming lotion have reached a new high in sales this year.’
More applause was accompanied by a handful of agents demonstrating their youthful anti-sag looks, thanks to Frond.
‘And now I would like to thank Steinberger, my ever-loyal, ever-dedicated Administration Assistant. The Force and I owe you so much. To my colleague, my confidant, my loyal friend.’
Harrison opened his arms and an almost-weeping Steinberger accepted his chief’s hug.
‘Why does it always have to get so emotional?’ Max turned to Ben and Eleanor, who were busy dabbing their own hankies to their eyes.
‘Oh boy,’ Max sighed.
Harrison and Steinberger separated with tear-streaked cheeks.
‘Now I would like to hand over to Professor Quimby and Dr Frond for a special presentation. These two talented scientists have never, in all my years of knowing them, failed to astonish me with their effluence. Oh bother it and blast, of course I meant to say astonish me with their brilliance.’
Quimby sent a forgiving smile to her boss and took centre stage with Frond. A brief giggle spurted from Steinberger’s lips.
‘My fellow secret agents,’ Quimby swept an unruly strand of long hair from her face, ‘it is our great pleasure to launch the latest Spyforce gadget to emerge from the combined forces of the lab and the Plantorium.’
The band struck up a drumroll and a rounded platform descended from the roof. On it was a large object covered by a white sheet. It lowered into the room slowly, importantly. The band stopped when the platform came to rest. The two scientists grabbed the material on either side. Quimby gave Frond a nod and they pulled it back with a flourish.
The room echoed with quiet gasps.
‘You are kidding me. What … is … that?’ Max struggled to get the words out.
‘Quimby’s new gadget.’ Linden and Ella had crept up behind her.
‘There is no way I am going anywhere near that gadget on any mission of mine,’ Max said.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Ella twirled a finger into a long curl. ‘I think it’s kind of cute.’
‘If you think that’s cute, it’s definitely time to have your glasses checked.’
Max stared at the platform where a very smug Toby was standing in his black suit, shiny shoes, star-quality sunglasses and microphone headset.
‘Everyone having a good time?’ Toby asked, as if he was starring in his own concert, and he got a resounding ‘yes’ in reply.
‘Every spy faces insurmountable dangers in the field,’ Quimby announced, ‘and needs to be shielded from harm as much as possible, so we have created the ultimate in protective spywear. Mr Harrison and secret agents, we give you … the Super Suit.’
The band struck up again and Toby stepped onto a transparent blue board. He took out a thumb-sized remote, pressed down and the board immediately began to hover. It slowly lifted above the agents, and he assumed various poses as if he was on a Paris catwalk, complete with self-important swagger and winks at the prettier agents.
‘It comes in a range of fashionable designs and can be equipped according to the needs of each mission. Incorporating the previously created Impact Suit, it has a slim layer of super-concentrated gel capsules that absorb all the impact of a hit or fall. It also acts as an excellent bullet-proof jacket and buoyancy vest.’ She slipped into a gleeful smile. ‘But this is much more than an Impact Suit.’
While the audience’s attention was focused on Toby floating back onto the stage, a large metal disc marked with a bullseye descended from the ceiling in a corner of the room cordoned off by a roped barrier.
‘It has also been equipped with specially designed, super-slim weapons, such as the laser gun and silent pen bomb. Here before you is a sheet of titanium. Watch the Super Suit in action.’
Toby reached into his pocket and, in a snap, assumed an exaggerated spy pose. He threw an overly smarmy smile into the audience before aiming his laser at the metal target. In seconds, it was sliced down the middle. One half crashed to the floor, the other half dangled by a metal cable. He snapped his pen from his pocket, removed the lid and hurled it at the swinging target like a knife. The pen struck the metal and silently blew it to bits.
The audience of agents murmured impressed ooohs and ahhhs.
‘The left cuff of the suit,’ Frond said, ‘has been equipped with a silk-like substance closely resembling that of the Golden Orb Web Spider, the strongest web of any spider known to science. This substance can act as a very effective net.’
‘And for this part of the show,’ Quimby added, ‘we have Marvin to help us out.’
A hatch in the stage floor opened, and a mannequin-like figure dressed in a dinner suit rose from below. Beside him was a thick metal pole with two large round weights on each end.
Linden smiled. ‘It’s the robot we saw Quimby working on when she equipped us for our last mission.’
‘He doesn’t normally dress this well,’ Quimby said, ‘but we thought he should make an effort for tonight’s occasion.’ There was tittering laughter from the audience. ‘Marvin is still in the design phase, but he already has many talents, including the strength of ten men.’
Quimby operated a remote control. Marvin leant down and lifted the heavy weight with one hand and held it above his head. He tossed it from one hand to the other before holding the weight in front of him and tying it into a large knot.
Quimby accepted the crowd’s ooohs with a chuffed grin. ‘And now let’s see how Marvin does when faced with the Super Suit.’
She nodded at Toby, who held out his wrist Spider-man-style. He pressed the button on the left cuff, and a fine netting flew from his wrist and ensnared Marvin. The robot’s arms were pinned against his sides. He struggled to break his way out of the net but, after several minutes of concerted effort, failed to break even one strand. Quimby turned Marvin off by remote.
‘And from the right wrist,’ Frond said, ‘we have added our plant-based Knock-Out Spray. But don’t worry, we’re not going to try that on anyone tonight.’
There was another ripple of laughter from the crowd and a louder guffaw from Steinberger.
‘And finally,’ Quimby added, ‘we’d like to indulge in one final demonstration. Are you ready, Toby?’
‘I’m always ready.’
‘I’m always ready?’ Max
repeated. ‘Who does he think he is, James Bond?’
‘I’d have him rescue me if I had the choice.’ Ella raised an eyebrow.
‘While you’re getting your eyes checked, get them to do a brain scan too.’
‘Oh Max, you’re so funny.’
‘It’s a real gift.’ Max turned to get another chocolate-dipped strawberry when she spied the same waiter with the corkscrew reaching into another pocket of his jacket. Only this time it wasn’t a corkscrew he retrieved, but two large guns. He lifted his weapons and aimed them towards the stage.
Max’s uneasy feeling had been right. Spyforce had been infiltrated. An intruder was about to attack, and she only had seconds to stop him.
‘Everybody get down!’ Max’s cry coincided with Quimby’s call of ‘Fire!’
The instruction triggered a hail of gunfire.
Max leapt forward and, with the full force of her weight, pushed against the fountain so that it toppled over in a volcanic flow of chocolate and strawberries.
As the waiter struggled to stay upright in the slippery mess, his fingers pressed the triggers. He fired into the air as the partygoers hit the floor and covered their heads. Max dived, sliding to a chocolatey stop beneath a table.
When the shooting stopped, she peeked through her arms to see the waiter on his back, groaning and clutching his head. She smiled to herself before turning to see Toby standing on stage with his hands on his well-dressed hips while Frond, Steinberger, Harrison and Quimby were laid out beside him.
Max scowled. The guns had been directly aimed at Toby, but he was unscathed and seemed to be surrounded by blobs of paint suspended in the air.
‘It’s okay everyone, Max just got a little excited,’ Toby spoke into his headset. ‘It’s safe to get up now.’
When Max looked around, there were splatters of red paint all around the room, on the banners, on the balloons and on a good smattering of guests. All of the mood flowers were either white or beginning to change to an inky black.
Max’s head sank into her arms. ‘This isn’t going to be good,’ she mumbled. Agents slowly lifted themselves from the floor before turning and staring directly at her. Max gathered herself and got to her feet in time to see Linden helping Ella up.
‘Is everyone okay?’ Harrison had reached the microphone, his hair ruffled and his suit sprayed with blobs of paint. There was a general murmuring and nodding. When he was sure there were no injuries, he handed the microphone to Quimby.
With her hair falling in escaped tresses around her face, she readjusted the sleeve of her splattered dress. ‘If an agent is in danger of attack, the Super Suit can create a force field with a simple twist of a jacket button.’
Toby offered his best toothpaste-ad smile before knocking on the air in front of him like it was an invisible door. A series of dull thuds rang out.
‘The paint pellets simply coated the force-field and left Toby unharmed … which is more than I can say for our banners and some of you out there.’ The mirror balls and balloons above them were covered in red speckles, and the image of the Spyforce globe behind the stage dripped with streaks of paint.
Max looked to the ground as accusing eyes sought her out.
Chief Harrison nodded at Quimby before taking back the microphone.
‘I’d like to thank the Spyforce agents who agreed to help us in our demonstration. Even though it didn’t quite turn out as we had planned, you can see that Quimby, Frond and their teams have once again created a truly remarkable gadget. The good thing about the paint is that it’s from the Plantorium and can be removed by our all-natural paint remover.’
Frond held up a large white jar.
‘Dr Frond will be glad to help out anyone in need. Please enjoy the rest of the evening, and I’d like to wish you all a happy 50th anniversary.’
A more subdued applause now filled the dishevelled room. As agents made their way to Frond and waiters began mopping up chocolate, scooping up squished strawberries, uprighting furniture and sweeping debris into piles, Max spied the nearest exit and quietly slipped outside.
Linden looked down into the blackened pit below him and took another quick breath. His body was held inside a coffin-shaped cage called an iron maiden, with double doors lined with spikes. Manacles gripped his wrists and ankles. If the doors were slowly closed, the spikes would pierce his body as easy as a pincushion. He did all he could to stay still, to avoid the sharpened points. Max was nearby, tied upright to a stretching rack, unable to stay quiet in the face of the thugs who had captured them.
‘What’s wrong?’ she taunted. ‘Are you trying to remember where you last saw your brain?’
One of the men flinched and sent her a gnarled stare.
‘Ah, Max,’ Linden offered. ‘Maybe getting these guys upset isn’t such a good plan.’
She said nothing.
‘Max?’ He tried again.
‘I haven’t decided if I ever want to speak to you again,’ she shot back.
‘I know you’re angry with me, and I bet you’re right about your dad. I bet he isn’t involved in anything. I want to help you prove it.’
Max gave him a cold stare and looked away.
‘Ah Linden, you’re always playing the good guy, aren’t you?’
The two spies looked towards the man who was walking down the stairs.
‘Dad! You’re here!’ Max cried. ‘I knew you’d come. These guys kidnapped us and are working for someone who is using the studio to transmit top secrets throughout the world.’ She was so happy to see him, until she realised he wasn’t rushing to free them.
‘Dad?’ Max’s voice was small and unsure.
Linden’s hair prickled on his head and stood even higher than usual. The way Max’s dad was looking at them, setting them free wasn’t what he had in mind.
‘So you’ve got yourself into a bit of trouble?’ He reached the bottom of the stairs and walked towards Linden. He felt the sharpened end of one of the spikes. ‘Maybe it’s because you were sticking your noses where they didn’t belong.’
‘But Dad, I know you don’t mean that,’ Max said quietly from above.
‘Oh, I mean it. You think you know me, but it’s been a long time since you and I have lived together and quite a few things have changed.’
‘But you said that you and I will always be the same.’ Max’s throat ached.
‘Did I?’ He rubbed his hand across his chin in mock confusion.
Linden eyed Max’s dad carefully.
‘Come on, Max. You’re a clever girl. You know sometimes we say things because they’re the right things to say and not because we believe them.’
A painful throb slammed into her chest.
‘I mean, really, it takes very special people to like each other for a long period of time, and I don’t think you and I are that special.’ He turned to the goons. ‘Are the distribution trucks in place?’
Max’s eyes blurred with tears. ‘Why are you talking to them? They’re part of Blue’s …’
Max’s dad offered her a syrupy smile before placing his hand under his chin and tearing the latex mask from his face to reveal his true identity.
‘Blue?’
‘Yes.’ He slowly ran his hand through his blue-streaked hair. ‘Lovely, isn’t it, that we’re all together again?’
Max’s mind unscrambled itself, trying to understand what had happened.
‘You’re the one behind the smuggling operation!’ Linden glared coldly. ‘We should have known.’
Max fixed Blue with a venomous gaze. ‘If you hurt my dad in any way you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’
Blue answered her gaze with a smile dripping with victory. ‘I think you should be much more worried about your own future than that of a man you rarely even see.’
‘You shut up about my father.’
Linden tugged at his manacles. The metal spikes pricked at his skin.
Blue sighed. ‘Your loyalty to a man who left you to live overseas with his
new wife is astounding.’
‘He went to Hollywood for work. He would have stayed with me if he could.’
‘Face it, your dad’s a very clever man. If he wanted to stay with you he could have worked out a way to do it.’
‘Leave Max alone,’ Linden said.
‘What do you care,’ Max shouted. ‘You think my dad’s a criminal, so don’t pretend to be my friend now.’
Linden recoiled from Max’s words as they echoed around the room.
‘Children, let’s not fight.’ Blue was enjoying every moment of their arguing.
‘Why should we listen to you?’ Max cried. ‘You’re a snivelling excuse for a man. You wouldn’t know the first thing about loyalty or truth.’
Blue slowly lowered his head while keeping his eyes trained on Max. ‘I’ve warned you before about pushing me too far.’ He had a barbed-wire edge to his voice and his reddened eyes glowered at Max. ‘And now you’ll see why. Release him.’
One of the goons moved towards Linden and pulled a lever that opened his manacles and slowly tipped the iron maiden towards the pit.
Max stared. ‘Linden?’ she whispered.
Linden didn’t say a word as he gripped the cold steel of an opened manacle. His legs flayed the air as the goons sniggered like mangy hyenas.
‘Nothing to say, Maxine? Pity. I guess we’ll just sit back and enjoy the show. And Linden, I hope you don’t take this personally, it really is just business.’
Linden’s hold slipped as the iron maiden dangled him over the pit.
‘Linden!’ Max cried.
The room echoed with Blue’s receding steps.
In a soundless, desperate moment, Linden caught Max’s eye. One by one his fingers came away from the steel until, silently, he fell with nothing more than a quiet, sickening
Max’s eyes flung open. Her breath heaved in and out of her chest, and her brow was mopped with sweat. She lay still for a few seconds in her hotel room before she threw off her blankets and switched on the lamp. The clock beside her bed said 2.30 am. She sat up and sighed, letting her head fall into her hands.
The Final Curtain Page 4