“I call it Black Widow,” Toby says from the floor.
“Nice,” Izumi says.
The guards curse a blue streak. They call us names Jennifer would ground me for in a heartbeat. As we untangle and stand, I hear a sickening crunch.
“What was that?” asks Charlotte.
“Oh my God, Abby!” Izumi screams. “Was that your leg?”
I glance down at my leg. It looks normal, no blood or bones sticking out, but I move and again the crunch. It’s the iPhone. Or what’s left of it. My fancy spy iPhone is toast, its screen black, the glass shattered. I hold it in my hands like an injured baby bird. The high-velocity rubber bullet falls to the floor. I never even got to use it.
“Aw, man,” says Toby, crestfallen.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I must have fallen on it weird. . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I can make another. I think I can, anyway.”
The guard calls me a particularly rude name and I’m not feeling all that forgiving on account of a few moments ago he threatened to shoot us. I stuff the crushed phone in my back pocket, march right up to him, and—BAM—hit him right between the eyes with the heel of my hand.
“That’s called the Shut up maneuver,” I say. Izumi and Charlotte burst out laughing. We’ve gone off the deep end.
“The elevator!” I yell. And we run.
Chapter 34
Where We’re out of the Woods. But Only for a Minute.
WE’RE GIDDY WITH OUR OWN awesomeness by the time we reach the elevator. We just escaped the clutches of Fake Bronwyn, evil henchwoman to the Ghost.
But I remember Jennifer telling me that climbing to the top of Mount Everest was no big deal. The hard part was getting back down. True, we’re out of the dungeon, but we haven’t actually gotten away yet.
This sinks in as the elevator slowly ascends and we each contemplate the individual horrors that might await us at the top. The phone is dead. We’ve used the Black Widow. We have nothing left but our wits.
“I wish I had the Spy Eye right now,” Toby says.
“Why?” I ask. “So you could plaster the elevator with terrifying images of Veronica?”
“You aren’t still mad about that, are you?”
“I might be.”
“Why is this elevator taking so long?” Charlotte groans. “We’ve been in here for days!”
“Spy Eye could see if they’re waiting for us at the top,” Toby says. “Not that we can do very much about it. But still. I can’t believe you fainted that night in Mrs. Smith’s office.”
Izumi and Charlotte giggle despite our precarious circumstances. “You totally did,” says Charlotte.
“Is now really when you want to have this conversation?” I ask.
“You fainted dead away in front of Mrs. Smith and Mr. Roberts.” Toby snickers.
You know that moment when you’ve been playing Minecraft on hard mode and the hostile mobs are spawning, the creepers swarm and zombies are busting through the doors? You’re sure you’re dead, but suddenly you make it through and level up. The whole thing clicks into place and makes sense. I have that moment now. Except not with a video game.
“Mr. Roberts was in the office that night too?” I ask, confused. “Beginning Concepts in Physics Mr. Roberts?”
“Yeah,” Toby says. But before I can say another word, the elevator grinds to a halt and the door slides open. And standing there is not a band of armed guards ready to drag us back to the dungeon but Mr. Roberts himself.
Izumi and Charlotte run to him. “Oh my God,” wails Charlotte. “I really thought we were going to die down there. How did you find us? Can we please leave? I’m so happy to see you!”
“You kids are in a heap of trouble,” Mr. Roberts says with a friendly wink. “Mrs. Smith sent me to escort you home, but traffic was terrible and I almost didn’t make it.”
“We need to get out of here!” Toby says, breathless. “It’s the Ghost! Or we think it is. Anyway, we found the evidence on him and, well, it burned up, but we saw it before that happened.”
Mr. Roberts holds up a hand for us to calm down and be quiet. “Did you say you found the tape but it burned up?”
“Wait,” I say. I remember the night in the office, way back when this crazy ride began. If the man in the chair was Mr. Roberts, then it was Mr. Roberts who was desperate to get the evidence. It was Mr. Roberts who pushed Mrs. Smith to use me. And that was no bruise on his leg. It was a triangle tattoo, pledging allegiance to the very bad guy he was supposed to be hunting.
Mr. Roberts is the traitor.
“Oh no,” I murmur.
But Toby, so eager to please our supposed savior, continues to babble. “We played the tape on one of those old camcorders a few times and we think we know why the Ghost wanted it back so badly.”
“Toby, shut up,” I whisper, elbowing him.
“You think you know, do you?” asks Mr. Roberts.
“It’s Veronica!” Izumi yelps. “On the tape.”
“We think the Ghost is her dad,” adds Charlotte.
“We could use this against him, right?” says Toby.
“You say the tape burned up?” Mr. Roberts asks again.
“You guys,” I say. “Mrs. Smith didn’t send him.” But they don’t hear me.
“The tape is actually down there with those people who kidnapped us,” Toby says. “But it’s useless, just a hunk of messed-up plastic.”
“But you watched it before that happened?”
“Yes.”
“All of you?”
“Yes. A few times,” says Izumi. “We have the details down, I swear.”
“I bet you do,” Mr. Roberts says with a smirk. “You didn’t by any chance have the opportunity to copy it, did you?”
Toby hangs his head. “No,” he whispers. “We should have. That was a mistake. I’ll be more thorough next time.”
“On the contrary,” Mr. Roberts says. “That’s just fine in this situation. Now, why don’t we all just hop in the car and take a little ride?”
“No!” I shout. My friends look at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “He’s one of them.”
“Abby, what are you saying?” Izumi asks.
Mr. Roberts smiles benignly. “You’ve had a long couple of days, Abigail. You’re just confused. Tired.”
Behind Roberts, I see the guards, three of them in the shadows. They’re armed and dressed in black and look an awful lot like the guys we just left downstairs tangled up in all the yellow goo. But they don’t run at us or yell or wave those guns around as you would if your prey was escaping. They’re waiting patiently for orders.
“Abby,” Charlotte hisses. “What are you doing?”
“He’s going to take us to the Ghost,” I say, my mouth dry. “Because we saw the tape.”
“What?” Toby says. “Why?”
“Because he works for him!” I scream. This finally gets their attention. They look from me to Mr. Roberts and back to me.
“She’s talking nonsense,” Mr. Roberts says. “She’s stressed and scared and desperate not to look like a fool. Are you actually going to listen to her?”
“He has a triangle tattoo,” I blurt. “On his ankle. I saw it. He works for the Ghost. You have to believe me.” The guards move silently forward.
And my friends fall into line beside me. “We believe Abby,” says Izumi.
Mr. Roberts’s face twists into something ugly. His eyes blaze, and his lips form a thin tight line. His lips curl in a nasty smile, and when he speaks, his voice is much deeper than it was mere moments ago.
“Abigail Hunter,” he says with a sneer. “Look what the little missy thinks she’s figured out. Just like your mother, constantly messing with things that have nothing to do with you.” He takes me by the shoulders and shakes me ever-so-sl
ightly. “You’ve caused a lot of problems.”
“So I guess that’s something I can be proud of,” I say. He slaps me. My friends gasp. A small trickle of blood runs from my nose. My cheek stings and my eyes threaten to overflow, but I won’t cry, not in front of this man. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“Did you copy the tape?” he demands.
“No,” I say. “We already said we didn’t.”
“We have ways of finding out for sure,” he says, shoving me toward the car.
I can see daylight out the wide hangar entrance. A black car pulls up close to the building and someone climbs out. The guards circle up as if to contain us.
A lone person wearing dark clothes and a baseball cap strides into the hangar. My imagination runs wild. Is this the guy whose specialty is torturing innocent kids? Or does Roberts do his own dirty work? Maybe this newcomer is a guard late for work? But no. This person is none of these.
First, the guards fall unconscious to the ground (Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!). Tiny colorful darts are just barely visible in their necks. Before Roberts registers any of this, the person in the cap holds a gun to the back of his head.
“Don’t move,” my mother says. “Don’t even think about it.”
Chapter 35
Where We Play a Game.
I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO glad to see Jennifer Hunter in all my life, including that time I got lost in Central Park when I was six. “Mom!” I yell.
“Hello, kids,” she says with a wave.
“Oh, Mrs. Hunter!” Izumi says. “It’s really good to meet you!” Toby stares at Jennifer as if she’s Superman or Spider-Man or some awesome hybrid of the two.
“It’s good to meet you all too,” she says. “I’m sorry I missed you guys at the museum, but some of Roberts’s goons tripped me up for a bit. Almost worked, too. I’m kind of rusty.”
“You’re something much worse than rusty,” Roberts growls. Jennifer pushes the barrel of the gun in an inch.
“You were right under our noses the whole time,” she says, shaking her head. “The Center forces you into retirement and you join the bad guys. I have to say I never saw it coming.”
“I gave my life to the Center,” he cries. “And they kick me out for Lola Smith. They retire me into teaching the little brats.”
“You betrayed your friends, your country, everything. You went to work for the Ghost,” Jennifer replies.
“And how is what I did any worse than what you did? Everything I did for you, all those years of training, of work, and you throw it away for her.” Roberts glares at me.
For the first time, my mother looks angry. “You twisted old man,” she says quietly. “I’m nothing like you. Abby, come over here. There’s a zip tie in my pocket. Tie his hands behind his back. Now.”
I pull the zip tie from Jennifer’s pocket. Roberts puts his hands behind his back. I drop the zip tie on the ground. When I bend to retrieve it, Roberts shoves Jennifer with his hands and grabs me, one arm tight around my neck. There’s screaming, but I can’t tell from who. I claw at his arm with my hands.
“Put down the gun,” Roberts commands.
“This isn’t about her,” Jennifer says.
“Do it now!” Jennifer lays the gun at her feet and kicks it toward him. “Hands in the air. If I see you so much as twitch, I squeeze. And you know I will.” Jennifer winces but keeps her hands steady. “Now,” Roberts says. “We’re going to get in the elevator and take a little trip downstairs, got it?”
“Okay,” Jennifer says. “Understood.”
As Roberts tries to walk with me held in front of him, I hear the beep. It’s a quiet sound, small and a little desperate but definitely there. There’s even a vibration in my pocket. The smashed iPhone lives! And I have an idea.
“Do you like card games?” I gasp.
“What?” Roberts asks.
“Abby, no!” yells Toby.
But it’s too late. “Toby is cool!” I scream. “Solitaire!”
And that’s the last thing I remember.
Chapter 36
Another Turn for the Weird. and Probably Not the Last One.
I’M RIGHT BACK WHERE I started. Nurse Willow holds my hand and tells me it’s time to wake up. My whole body aches, as if I’ve been run over by a bus. “You’re just fine, dear,” she says. “Or you will be soon. Now, don’t sit up too fast.”
Of course I do, and the world spins in lazy disorienting circles. I flop back on my pillow.
“I think she’s faking it,” I hear someone say. Izumi.
“It’s been days.” I open my eyes and see Toby peering down at me. He has a bandage on his arm. Izumi wears a patch over one eye. Charlotte’s hair looks singed. And there’s Veronica, standing with her arms across her chest, somehow managing to look happy and annoyed at the same time. But she’s here.
“What happened?” I whisper, but my voice is raw and the effort stings.
“We played a card game,” Toby says with a smile. “Roberts lost.”
“They got him?” I ask.
My friends nod. “All locked up,” says Charlotte.
I gasp. “Izumi, your eye?”
“Temporary,” she says with a shrug. “Although I might keep the patch. Like embracing my inner pirate, you know?”
I start to cry. I can’t say why. I’m grateful to be alive. I’m grateful my friends are alive. I’m glad we caught a bad guy. Jennifer appears in the doorway.
“There’s my girl,” she says. We hug. My friends and Nurse Willow fade out of the room. After a minute of hugging, I realize I’m being stabbed in the chest by a key she wears around her neck. I push my mother away and take her in. She does not look like Jennifer. She wears a khaki-colored suit. She wears heels. And she wears a key around her neck.
Mrs. Smith’s key.
“What’s going on?” I gulp.
She runs her fingers down my cheek. “You were very brave,” she says. “I’m incredibly proud of you. You’re also grounded forever.”
“Where were you? Why didn’t you save me? Lotus Man, Fake Bronwyn, Evil Tom, Rip Curl!”
Jennifer chuckles. “And here I thought you were going to be upset finding out about the Center and me.”
“I am!” I shout.
“Shhh,” she whispers. “Calm down, otherwise Nurse Willow will throw me out. I didn’t come for you because I didn’t know you were in California. I was deep under. The way the partnership worked for so many years was I’d disappear and Lola, I mean Mrs. Smith, would step in and take over. Except that didn’t happen. I didn’t get a line on you until Charlotte used Uber, at which point I figured out what you were up to. But I ran into some problems with Roberts’s men, which slowed me down. All in all, not my best work.”
She smiles sadly. “I planned to tell you everything when you were older. I wanted you to make up your own mind about things. My choices don’t have to be your choices. But Mrs. Smith should never have dragged you into this. She violated just about every rule in the book.”
“Why did she?”
“She was desperate for a win. Desperation can make people do things.”
“Are you going to get the Ghost?” I ask quietly. I don’t want them to use Veronica. I want them to be better than that.
“Yes,” she says. “We’ll get him. I’ve always believed that. But we aren’t going to sacrifice your friend to do it.”
“Oh, she’s not my friend,” I say quickly. “She can’t stand me.”
“I don’t know about that,” my mother says, smiling. “What I do know is your parents aren’t your destiny. You should never have to pay for their mistakes. Every one of you is your own person. Veronica doesn’t know what you all saw on the videotape and doesn’t need to. She’s one of us.”
I hug her again so hard I think she gasps. And again, the key stabs me. “What’s
with the suit?” I ask.
“Well, funny you should ask,” she says. I don’t like the sound of that. “Mrs. Smith is on a small . . . vacation. And the Center asked me to step in for the time being.”
“Wait a minute,” I say slowly. “You’re the new headmaster?”
“Interim headmaster,” she corrects. “To be honest, I’m not sure I can stand these shoes for very long.” I’m speechless.
My mother pats my hand. “Now, you just concentrate on getting better,” she says, “because we have work to do. Just between me and you, I’ve heard rumors about someone named Tucker Harrington that are giving me pause, and I might need your help.” She arches an eyebrow and smiles. And I realize she’s having fun. The world might be complicated and messy and somewhere out there is the Ghost, but that doesn’t matter. Jennifer Hunter has it all under control. More or less, anyway. My mother plants a kiss on my forehead.
“But wait,” I croak. “I have more questions! I—”
“I know you do,” she interrupts, smoothing my hair. “And I promise I’ll answer every one, but now it’s time to rest.” She kisses me again and she’s gone.
It’s only after she leaves I notice I’m holding a small piece of paper. It’s a pencil sketch of the Persephone Club, the same one from the photograph Toby showed me of the Center’s founding class of spies. But the only members of this Persephone Club are Izumi, Charlotte, Toby, and me. We have our arms around each other. I stare at the picture until my eyes flutter with exhaustion. There’s still so much I don’t understand. So many questions. And so many possible adventures to be had.
Yes. So many adventures.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is about the most fun I can imagine having. But it’s not something I do alone. Nothing happens without the wisdom of my agent, Leigh Feldman, of Leigh Feldman Literary. I’m pretty sure she knows everything. Also, a big shout-out to my editor, Alyson Heller, at Aladdin for taking Abby and her friends and making them shine. The team at Simon & Schuster is top notch, and I’m ever grateful.
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