Spyforce Revealed

by Deborah Abela

  ‘What was that?’ Max spun round on her shiny black heels, not quite out of earshot of Linden’s quip.

  ‘I said maybe if our contact’s nearby they could work out where we’ll be sitting by our professional demeanor.’

  He whipped into his bag, pulled out his Danger Meter and began clipping it to the inside of his shirt. He concentrated on redoing his buttons to make sure his meter was properly concealed, but mostly to avoid Max’s deadly gaze. Ella clipped hers onto the inside of her waistband, also eager to avoid the Maxvibes that were coming their way.

  Max was sceptical and turned away abruptly to sit on a bench nearby. She looked up to see Ella and Linden talking and laughing as the bright sunny day lit up everything around them. She attached her Danger Meter to the satin pink lining of her dress so that it sat just above her heart. As she made sure it was firmly fastened she again felt that dull, familiar ache she felt whenever she moved houses and knew she was losing a friend. She looked at the two of them laughing and joking together and wondered why she couldn’t be the one standing with Linden having a good time. Ella seemed to have everything: a nice mother, a good sense of humour and Linden liked her better. If only —

  ‘Psssst.’

  Max’s self-pity was interrupted by what sounded like the hissing of a punctured tyre. She held her head still as her eyes roamed the park, trying to spy what it was.

  ‘Pssssssst.’

  This time the sound was louder plus it sounded like it was coming from the garbage bin beside her.

  Linden and Ella continued chatting, oblivious of the hissing bin.

  ‘Down here.’ The hissing had turned into a real voice. Max leant down into the bin to come face to face with a person looking back at her.

  ‘Cynthia Gordon?’

  For an instant Max was going to say no, but then remembered her ridiculous pink outfit. ‘Yep, that’s me.’

  ‘I’m Agent 31. Your first contact for Mission Blue’s Foods.’

  ‘What are you doing in the bin?’ She had to ask.

  ‘I’m Spyforce’s secret hidden agent. It’s my job to relay information to agents from discreet places. On the last mission I was posted in the steampipe of an ocean liner. Got a very warm bottom on that assignment, I can tell you. The one before that I was in a fish tank. Good thing I can hold my breath so long. Costs a fortune in dry cleaning bills but it’s a steady job and I’m pretty good at it, if I don’t say so myself.’

  ‘How can you fit your whole body in such small places?’ Max eyed the barrel-sized bin.

  ‘I studied the ancient eastern art of Physical Origami for ten years under one of the Grand Masters. You should see what she can do. Once she got in and out of a teapot in ten minutes flat. The tea tasted a bit funny after that but it was amazing to see.’

  Max wondered if Agent 31 had mashed a few brain cells out of existence and whether his squashed up experiences had left him a bit loopy.

  ‘And I’m not loopy. I know that’s what you’re thinking because I also study mind-reading by correspondence. The ancient wisdoms of the world are mysterious and wonderful.’

  Ella and Linden noticed Max leaning into the bin and hurried over.

  ‘Are you okay, Cynthia? Are you feeling sick?’ Ella looked concerned.

  Max disliked Ms Perfect even more because she could still be nice even after Max had been rude to her.

  ‘This is Agent 31. He’s our contact.’

  Ella and Linden stared at each other seeing no one around except Max.

  ‘I think you’re getting a little too much sun,’ Linden suggested.

  ‘Just look in the bin.’

  They leant over the rim and spied a crumpled man.

  ‘Pleased to meet you. Thirty-one’s my name and information’s my game.’

  There really was a man in the bin.

  ‘What do you have for us?’ Max had her notepad ready to take down everything she needed to know. Agent 31 began his instructions.

  ‘In the last three months, Blue’s Foods has come to dominate the kid’s food business with his fancy new food flavours and marketing campaigns. His latest promotion even offered a trip to the moon to a lucky consumer of his Man in the Moon Cheesy Nibbles. You can imagine how many people bought those little fromagey treats. Anyway, now that so many kids are hooked on his foods, he is planning to add a secret ingredient over the next few months that will slowly take over the minds of kids everywhere, leaving him in control. Your mission is to enter Blue’s Foods as a BRATT — a Bona-fide Registered Authorised Taste Tester — find out the ingredient he is planning to use and stop him before he can have his wicked way. But remember, it’s not certain when Blue will start putting his plan into action, so whatever you do, don’t eat the food.’

  Max busily scribbled down all that 31 was saying.

  ‘Your next step is to go to the lawns of Blue’s Foods where you will be ushered along to the food-tasting area. Here is the address and a map of the factory layout for each of you. We believe Blue’s office is located here.’ He reached past an empty chip packet and a half-eaten sandwich to point to a particular location on Max’s map.

  ‘Once settled into your position, you will contact an agent who has been working undercover as a food technologist. She is of medium build, has long dark hair and is expecting your arrival. When you see her you need to say this line, “The bluebird sings a happy song,” and she’ll reply, “Only when the sparrow farts.”’

  Ella and Linden stifled their giggles as Max quickly scribbled the message.

  ‘Good luck and may the Force —’

  ‘Be with you … We know.’ Max stood up from the bench and took the London A-Z from her pack.

  ‘Thanks, Agent 31,’ Ella said, trying to make up for Max’s rude behaviour.

  He smiled warmly. ‘Call me 31.’

  ‘Will we see you again, 31?’ asked Linden.

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Got it.’ Max had her finger on the location of Blue’s factory. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Remember,’ warned 31 before they left. ‘Watch out for Blue. No matter how nice he may seem, he’s one of the meanest characters in the business. And even though you’re the perfect agents for this mission, he’ll have his eye out for you so don’t do anything that will draw attention to yourselves.’

  The three of them moved off with the agent’s warning circling in their heads. As their feet sank into the soft green carpet of grass beneath them, Max and Linden remembered the vulture-like look of satisfaction on Blue’s face as they dangled perilously over his vat of jelly. He was a man who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted and they’d have to watch every step to keep out of his way.

  Alex Crane looked over the rim of her thick tortoiseshell glasses and held up the Substance Analyser Meter, or SAM, in front of her.

  ‘Just as I thought.’

  The reading was the final piece of proof that Blue was up to no good and if she didn’t act quickly, he’d begin one of the most evil plans of mind control the world had ever known.

  ‘Now to get this back to the lab.’ But before she could take a step, Blue’s snivelling henchman, Kronch, snatched the SAM from her and threw it to the floor, smashing it into a million pieces.

  ‘I knew there was somethin’ fishy about you. The head technologistician said she wasn’t convinced you were just any food technologist, and guess what, she were right.’

  Kronch paused for effect.

  ‘Ms … Alex … Crane.’

  Alex flinched on hearing her name punctuated by this meat-brained, no-necked, half giant. Kronch was twice her size but had the brainpower of a rock. In a one-arm swoop he picked up Alex and strode towards the boiling cauldron of Vampire Blood Syrup.

  ‘In just a few seconds, Ms Crane, you’ll turn from Superspy to super dessert. Kids all over the world will be slurping you up with their favourite vanilla ice cream and not even know it.’

  Kronch held Alex over the boiling copper tub as the bubbling, sugary heat rose u
p and stung her nose and eyes. Kronch wasn’t smart but he was every inch as mean as his uncle Theolodious Blue. Every inch as

  ‘Oooph!’ Alex Crane was jolted from Max’s thoughts and was replaced by the back of Ella’s head right up against her nose.

  ‘Oops. Sorry, Cynthia.’

  Max boiled.

  ‘Don’t stop so suddenly next time and maybe we’ll all manage to get to where we’re going in one piece.’

  Max was her own mini-storm as she thundered past Ella towards the factory.

  ‘Don’t worry about Max,’ Linden tried to comfort a downcast Ella. ‘She has a really nice personality, she just sometimes forgets to bring it with her.’

  There was no doubting who the factory belonged to. The building was a blazing modern kaleidoscope of glass and curves and colours gleaming in the sun like a mirage in a desert. Outside the factory was like a circus ground with splashes of red, blue, pink and yellow snuggled among leafy green trees filled with exotic birds and colourful butterflies buoyed on a calm, gentle breeze. Dotted around like giant marbles were statues of rounded chefs holding cartons of custards, stirring pots of puddings and juggling jars of jelly beans. Towering above everything was a fountain of fake juice spilling from a gigantic mouth and a bold and friendly sign that read, ‘Blue’s Foods … So good it’s almost criminal.’

  ‘I’ll bet it’s criminal.’ Max stood under the sign and thought about Ben, Eleanor and Francis and what Blue had done to them. ‘We’ll get you yet.’

  A sprawl of kids were arriving for the taste testing and after hugs and goodbyes and adults wiping corners of eyes with hankies, the BRATTs drifted into two lines. Ella waited in one as Linden stood behind Max in the other.

  ‘The food tasting title they gave us is just a name, you know. You don’t actually have to live it out,’ he leant into her.

  ‘I’m not being a BRATT, but thanks for pointing it out. I just think she shouldn’t have stopped so suddenly.’

  ‘Ella’s really nice and if you’d just give her a chance you’ll find that too.’

  Max spun round. ‘Who said anything about Ella? It’s not Ella I’m worried about. I’ve hardly even noticed Ella. It’s the mission I’m worried about, not Ella.’

  By the amount of times Max said Ella’s name he knew the problem was definitely Ella. Linden sighed. One day he’d understand girls, but today he wasn’t even going to get close.

  A large truck of a man sitting behind a desk at the front of the queue lifted his head to see what the commotion was. He eyed Max closely as she approached the desk and stepped into his darkened shadow. She felt her Danger Meter tingle inside her dress as her eyes rose warily up his bulky frame. He had stubby sausage-like fingers, arms as thick as an old lounge chair, a crumpled orange shirt stretched over his bulging belly and a bucket-sized head rimmed with a motley black and grey beard that was so thick you couldn’t see his lips.

  ‘Badge and papers?’ the beard rustled.

  Max reached in and took them out of her bag. The way the man was looking at them she wasn’t sure he could read. Then she saw something else. Her eyes flung open like roller blinds as she read his name tag: ‘Kronch.’

  ‘Kronch?’ She didn’t realise she’d said it out loud.

  ‘Hmm?’ Kronch hmmed grumpily.

  ‘Nothing.’ Max felt like all the words had been sucked out of her head as she remembered her Alex Crane story.

  ‘First-timer, eh? Just do as the other BRATTs here do and you won’t get into any trouble … Cynthia.’ He said her name like he wasn’t convinced it was hers.

  Kronch looked down at a list in front of him. ‘Room B for you.’ He gloated like it was some kind of punishment. Before he let her go he groaned, ‘Wait, let me see that bag.’

  Max stiffened. If Kronch saw what was inside her backpack they were done for. She tried to think of how to explain her way out of it.

  ‘There’s not much in there, just a few —’

  ‘The bag.’ This time it wasn’t a request as much as a quietly spoken threat.

  Max took her bag off her shoulders and handed it over. Linden’s mouth went dry as he felt his temperature go up.

  Kronch was enjoying every minute of their squirming, but when he tried to undo the bag, he got nowhere. He pulled at the zippers, tugged at the straps and then used his teeth to try and tear it open. Max made a mental note not to touch the bag where his slobber would have sunk in. The security system worked. It seemed the backpack really was meant for no one except Max.

  Unable to open it, Kronch threw it to the floor. He moved his beard closer to Max so she could feel his warm, stale breath pouring all over her.

  ‘I’ll be keeping a careful eye on you, missy. Make one move out of line and I’ll be on you quicker than a rabbit trap.’

  Max stepped aside and picked up her pack, unable to take her eyes off the hulking man. Linden stepped up and handed his papers over. He felt his Danger Meter shiver inside his shirt as well. There was something about Kronch that was like rolling black storm clouds after a hot and humid day. Everything was calm now, but any minute the skies were going to open up and come crashing down all over them.

  ‘Room F.’ Max was sure Kronch was smiling underneath his beard as he ordered Linden to a separate room.

  They sidled away from the desk eager to get away from him as soon as possible. Kronch kept them in sight and spoke slyly into a mobile phone that looked like a domino in his baguette-like fingers. Ella met them on the neatly manicured lawn near a statue of a large jolly chef holding up a can of whipped cream.

  ‘I’m in Room B,’ she announced, hoping Linden would be there too.

  ‘Room F,’ he said disappointedly. ‘You’re with Max.’

  Ella’s smile faltered a little.

  ‘We’ll have to make sure we keep in touch with our watches.’

  Max did her best to ignore Ella’s disappointment and turned to walk towards the factory entrance, but as she did, a strap on her pack got hooked on the thumb of the jolly chef and she was flung back into him like a ball on a piece of elastic.

  Linden and Ella did their best not to smile but worried they were going to burst out laughing, moved off quickly. Behind them, Kronch finished his phone call, stood up and ambled through an oval side door painted as a giant strawberry.

  Once inside, Linden said goodbye as he was led down a long polished corridor with glass floors. He could see down into the level below to a network of benches, stools, charts and bowls of brightly coloured foodstuff everywhere.

  Ella and Max were led in the opposite direction. Max’s Danger Meter was only now quietening down after her encounter with Goliath. Ella saw her anxious face and guessed what she was thinking. ‘I don’t like being separated from Linden either.’

  That was exactly how Max was feeling but she wasn’t going to let Ella know she was right. ‘The reason I’m worried is that my Danger Meter doesn’t like the hulk we just met one bit. I think it’s good we’ve been split up. We’ll cover more area that way.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘For now let’s concentrate on not doing anything that attracts attention.’

  Just as Max finished saying this, she tripped over another BRATT who had bent over to do up his shoelace. She rolled over the top of him and landed on a skateboard that sped down the polished glass floor, past a forest of kid’s legs before she crashed head first through the door of Room B straight into the boots of Kronch.

  ‘Can’t you use a door like everyone else?’ His nostrils flared like a crazed horse about to bolt. ‘Now find your seat and do the job you’re here to do.’

  The door opened and other BRATTs giggled as they stepped over Max. She struggled to her feet, rubbed her sore head and walked to her allocated desk.

  Three food technicians in long white coats with clipboards and pens were pushing carts with different coloured bowls of food. Red, yellow, aqua and fluorescent pink mousses, custards, jellies and breakfast cereals. As they approached each desk, they hande
d over a few bowls and a piece of paper for each BRATT to fill out once they’d tasted their samples.

  ‘Do you think one of these is our contact?’ Ella breathed quietly.

  ‘Not sure.’ Max tried to catch the eyes of each of them. One technician was a short squat man with no hair and a moustache so thin it looked like he had drawn it on with a pencil. Another was a tall woman who chewed gum and wove through the desks nodding her head like she had a radio playing inside it. The final one was very serious, wore thick-rimmed glasses and her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. Max had the feeling they’d met before. But how could that be? This was only her second time in London. Just then, the technician looked up and caught her eye. Then she pushed her cart towards Max and stopped alongside her to pick up several bowls and place them in front of Max. There wasn’t any obvious sign she was their contact, but something told Max she was the one. She looked down, started to fill out her form and decided to give the signal.

  ‘The bluebird sings a happy song.’

  The technician finished placing Max’s bowls on her desk and stepping between the two new spies, did the same for Ella. Max was disappointed. She was sure the contact was her.

  The technician held her clipboard up in front of her face and whispered towards Max, ‘Only when the sparrow farts.’

  Max pressed so hard on her pencil she snapped the lead.

  ‘Cynthia?’

  Max and Ella looked at each other.

  ‘That’s me.’

  ‘I’m your contact. Crane. Alex Crane.’

  Alex kept looking at her clipboard and marking off the food samples she’d given them as Max was dealing with a serious case of shock.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Alex Crane,’ she repeated softly, barely moving her lips.

  Max couldn’t believe it. Alex Crane really existed! And she was standing beside her! On the same mission!

  ‘I’m Max!’ she almost yelled, plunging her overexcited hands across the desk and sending several bowls of blue and red food samples dribbling onto Alex’s coat and trousers.

  Kronch’s head spun towards them.

  Max’s embarrassment made her heart beat faster and her face fire up like she was sitting way too close to a heater.