The French Code

by Deborah Abela

  ‘Zir Reginald Strangways, a very rich man ’oo ’az been generously donating to ze museum and sponsoring Monsieur Marceau’s work for years. Ze phone records show zat ze last call Monsieur Marceau made was to Monsieur Strangways.’

  ‘So is he missing too?’ Toby asked.

  ‘No. We found him dumped and unconscious in a gutter not far from ze Musée. ’E ’ad received a severe blow to ze ’ead and cannot remember anyzing.’

  ‘And let me guess, the two men doing all the dragging aren’t really security guards,’ Max suggested.

  ‘No. Zey are impozters.’ Tetu’s voice slumped. ‘Nozing like zis ’as ever ’appened to ze Musée before. As one of ze world’s most secure repositories of ancient and modern art and artefacts, we cannot let news of zis get out. Our reputation as guardians of ze world’s treasures would be lost. And Monsieur Marceau is a world leader in his field. It is imperative zat we find him wizout delay.’

  ‘Was anything stolen?’ Toby asked.

  ‘We are interviewing all staff from ze department and cross-checking all inventories to make sure everyzing can be accounted for.’ His voice softened. ‘I have been told zat some antiquities possess great power and, outside ze secure walls of ze Musée, zey could cause unzinkable havoc.’

  ‘Havoc?’ Max asked. ‘From an old vase or stone sculpture?’

  ‘Zis is what I am told.’ Tetu drifted into a dark silence.

  ‘And the message, Commandant Tetu?’ Harrison prompted.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Tetu snapped back to attention. ‘We found a message dropped onto Monsieur Marceau’s chair.’ Tetu nodded at Steinberger and a photo of a scribbled note appeared on the screen.

  ‘What does it say?’ Max asked.

  ‘Gardez la fille,’ Toby spoke out unexpectedly.

  ‘Which means?’

  ‘Watch out for the girl.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Max asked.

  Toby shrugged. ‘I’ve been studying French. It came in handy for my last mission.’

  ‘As well as French, Toby has been taking cryptography and cryptanalysis classes in Austria after school,’ Steinberger explained.

  ‘The study of message secrecy and code breaking,’ Linden said.

  ‘Yes.’ Steinberger smiled. ‘And he has quite a flair for it. Topped his class in all his exams so far.’

  ‘Can’t hold back true genius, I guess.’ Toby shrugged. ‘If you stay close, some of it might rub off on you, Max.’

  ‘Along with your arrogance and over-inflated ego? No thanks!’ Max shot back.

  ‘And Linden,’ Steinberger continued, ‘has been studying computer analysis and infiltration by correspondence class. And may I say, he took to it like …’

  ‘If I can finish?’ Tetu sneered the room into an awkward quiet. ‘We believe ze 12-year-old daughter of Monsieur Marceau is ze girl ze message is referring to and zat she may be in terrible danger. Your mission is to mind ze girl and make sure nozing ’appens to ’er.’

  Max’s eyes widened. ‘The Louvre has been broken into, an old man beaten up and dumped in a gutter, a top archaeologist has been kidnapped and … you’re asking us to babysit a kid? We’re top agents who have stopped evil geniuses from making zombies of the world’s kids.5 We’ve saved Venice and Malta from being destroyed.6 We’ve rescued …’

  Max was silenced by Tetu’s slow, quiet steps. He stood over her. ‘If you don’t like it, you can go.’ The comment hung in the air like a sharpened guillotine hovering directly above her.

  Harrison spoke up to break the tension. ‘This mission is to remain top secret, Max. If we were to place adult agents around Veronique, it would attract unwanted attention. Being the same age as her, you can be more discreet.’

  A smug smile slithered across Tetu’s colourless lips.

  Max turned to her boss. ‘Yes, sir.’

  Tetu swaggered in front of the three young agents. ‘Undercover police will be discreetly placed around you, but you are to stay wiz Veronique at all times. No-one is to know zat you are agents. Ze moment you give your cover away, you will be taken off ze case. As far as anyone is to know, you are friends ’oo ’ave come to visit from England.’

  ‘We’re from Australia,’ Max pointed out.

  ‘Wherever.’ Tetu waved his hand. ‘Just make zure you do not mess up.’

  ‘We’ve completed eight missions so far.’ Max held Tetu’s half-smiling stare. ‘We have no intention of messing up.’

  ‘We shall see.’ One of Tetu’s eyebrows arched into the shape of a question mark. ‘It ’az been arranged zat Monsieur Sleek will fly you to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris in ze Invisible Jet. You will be escorted into a secret entrance and taken through ze arrivals terminal as if you ’ad flown in on a regular plane. You will be met by an undercover police officer posing as your driver and taken directly to Monsieur Marceau’s home. I will be in touch via zis palm computer that Chief ’Arrison ’as kindly given me so we can communicate in a zecure way. Is zat clear?’

  ‘Zat is clear.’ It was out before Max could stop it.

  A cruel edge circled Tetu’s eyes. His body loomed over Max, casting her in his shadow. ‘Do not mess wiz me,’ he said quietly. ‘Ozers ’ave done so before and regretted zat day forever.’

  He snapped his pointer closed. ‘I will see you in Paris after you ’ave been equipped. Au revoir, Chief ’Arrison. Monsieur Stain-berr-gerr.’ Tetu nodded and, with his two officers, left the room.

  ‘That man has got to find his funny bone,’ Max said. ‘And when he does, I’ll be the first to hit him with it.’

  Toby and Linden sniggered.

  ‘What?’ Max asked.

  Toby braved an answer. ‘Maybe he’ll find it where you left yours.’

  ‘I can be just as funny as the next person. Funnier, even.’ Max threw it out as a challenge. Toby opened his mouth, but a quick shake of the head from Linden warned him against it.

  ‘Commandant Tetu can be a little … stern,’ Steinberger said. ‘He’s never worked with young agents before. Once he sees you in action, though, he’ll change his mind.’

  ‘And until then we have to babysit some spoilt brat.’ Max sulked.

  Harrison’s gaze lowered. ‘She is very much more than that and may be in terrible danger. Minding her is your mission.’ His voice was firm.

  ‘Tetu is aware of your work with the Force,’ Steinberger added. ‘He has studied your missions thoroughly, in fact, but he has made up his mind about your role in this one and isn’t prepared to budge.’

  ‘I’ll budge him if I ever –’

  ‘Max,’ Harrison warned. His eyes met each spy before returning to her. ‘I have staked the reputation of Spyforce on your involvement, and I know you will do your job and allow nothing to bring that reputation into disrepute, will you, Max?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Now hurry. Quimby needs to equip you so you can leave for Paris as soon as possible.’ He nodded once. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Aow!’ Max cradled her head, which felt as if it had been slammed by a cricket bat.

  ‘Sorry, Max.’ Steinberger rushed over to where Max was standing in the VART and handed her one of his many hankies. He believed that wherever you went, you couldn’t go without your hanky – it somehow made everything better. ‘Since our renovations to the Force last month, we have rearranged the parking of some of our vehicles … including the Invisible Jet.’

  The VART, or Vehicular All-Response Tower, was a large cave-like hangar where Spyforce kept all its high-tech vehicles. There was the Sleek Machine, all-terrain trucks, one-seater mini choppers, hovercrafts and, of course, the Hyper-Fast Invisible Jet, which Max had, until today, known where it was parked. Max grabbed the hanky and dabbed at a small trickle of blood on her forehead. ‘I thought we were going to be equipped by Quimby?’

  ‘We are,’ Steinberger explained, ‘but due to our tight schedule, we’re going to do it in the jet.’

  A large hatch lowered towards them, revealing the plus
h interior of the jet.

  ‘And it looks as if Sleek is ready for us.’

  ‘I love this thing.’ Toby hurried up the stairs.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Linden whispered to Max.

  ‘I’m fine, I just …’ Max felt her heart flip a little as Linden went to touch her brow. She pulled away and shoved the hanky in her pocket. ‘It’s only a little cut. We’d better get going.’

  They climbed inside the jet and settled into the large fluffy seats before Sleek’s voice floated above them. ‘Welcome aboard the Invisible Jet. This is your captain speaking. We are about to commence take-off, so please fasten your seatbelts, stow all tray tables and Digital Think Amajigs, and get ready to enjoy your ride to Paris.’

  ‘He sounds happy,’ Max said.

  ‘The Social Orienteering classes he’s been taking are really working,’ Steinberger replied. ‘He even received an award for “most improved”.’

  After the door closed and locked automatically, the jet lifted into the air and glided towards the opening hangar doors of the VART. At the lip of the exit, the gently hovering machine catapulted into a high-velocity vehicle, well on its way to Paris.

  They’d reached cruising altitude in seconds and Steinberger began the orientation. ‘We’ll be in Paris in a jiffy, so let us get Quimby in here, shall we?’

  Steinberger pressed a button on the control panel in his armrest. A large screen descended from the roof and, after a bleep and some static, Professor Quimby, chief inventor of Spyforce, appeared before them. She was in her newly upgraded lab, filled with shiny chrome benches lined with microscopes, lasers and vices. In the background were new machines still covered with cloth. In the centre of it all, Professor Quimby was bent over the flying sparks of a welder. After a few seconds, she stopped.

  ‘Professor Quimby,’ Steinberger announced, ‘your agents are assembled.’

  Quimby looked up. ‘Ah, hello there, everyone.’ She took off her safety helmet. ‘Welcome to another mission. I was just putting the finishing touches on a new robot I’m working on.’

  ‘A robot?’ Toby’s eyes brightened. ‘Could I have one when you’re finished?’

  ‘There’s a lot of testing to do before I can unleash her on the public, but I’ll let you know when she’s ready.’ Quimby laid the welder and gloves on the bench. A long wisp of dark hair escaped from her bright pink scarf. ‘If you reach beneath your seats you’ll find your packs, which are fully equipped with the gadgets you will need for your mission in Paris.’

  Each of the agents pulled out their packs, which also doubled as a Personal Flying Device.

  ‘I have checked them all and added a no-tamper security system, so this time you should all fly without a hitch.’ Quimby’s smile fell a little. ‘After careful examination, Max, we found your pack had been tampered with in Malta. We’re only happy you landed from a relatively low height into water, otherwise your fall could have been very serious indeed.’

  Max felt a strange tingle of fear run through her as she recalled her PDF stalling mid-flight and her spiralling into the Grand Harbour in Valletta, the capital of Malta.7

  ‘We’re also lucky Linden was there to pull you out and give you mouth-to-mouth,’ Quimby added.

  ‘You kissed her?’ Toby sprang forward into Linden’s face.

  ‘I attempted mouth-to-mouth, but –’

  ‘He didn’t kiss me,’ Max interrupted. ‘There was no mouth-to-mouth. I woke up just in time.’

  ‘Oh,’ Quimby said. ‘My mistake.’

  ‘I can’t believe you were going to kiss her,’ Toby said.

  ‘I can’t believe you don’t understand that if you say that one more time, I’m going to wrap you in that fluffy seat cover and slingshot you into outer space.’ Max’s eyes were wild. Toby stayed quiet.

  ‘In your packs you will find an old favourite.’ Quimby’s smile returned with new vigour as she held out a small, red rubber cube. ‘The Foldaway Inflatable Vehicle.’

  ‘That’s a vehicle?’ Toby asked.

  ‘Not yet, but watch this.’ Quimby moved back from the camera, which followed her every move. ‘All you do is give the cube a shake like this, throw it to the ground and you have … the Felani!’

  A sleek red car materialised as if from nowhere.

  ‘That is going to be a dream to drive.’ Toby imagined himself comfortably seated at the wheel.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Max said. ‘I don’t plan on my life ending that quickly.’

  ‘Max and Linden have been properly trained to use the vehicles,’ Steinberger explained to Toby. ‘So you are to leave the driving to them.’

  ‘All right,’ Toby sighed. ‘But they’ve just missed out on their first ride through the sound barrier.’

  Quimby smirked and continued. ‘Its wheels contain fibres from the Venus flytrap for super-grip and, even though she looks like a flash city car, she’s very sturdy for those occasions when you need to tackle harder terrain, but still look good.’

  ‘It’s always good to know –’ Toby began.

  ‘That the gadgets will match the good looks of their agent?’ Max guessed.

  ‘Now you’re starting to get it.’

  ‘Maybe you’re just getting predictable.’

  The camera followed Quimby, who moved closer to her desk. She held up a transparent, button-shaped device. ‘You each have a Tracer Bug that, as Max and Linden will remember, is linked to the virtual search engine on your Time and Space Machine. You simply enter the code number of the Tracer Bug you’re looking for and the search engine will track that person down. The code numbers are on your computer and each bug displays in different colours. Toby is blue, Linden is green and, Max, you’re red.’

  ‘And this,’ she picked up a small plastic curved object, ‘is your Descrambler. It fits inconspicuously behind your ear and will translate any language into English. I’d like you to wear them now and keep them turned on at all times while you are in France.’

  Each of the agents slipped the device behind an ear.

  ‘I’d also like you to wear your infrared video/radio watches with built-in laser and torch. They’ve been updated to include texting capability. I’ve also included your danger meters. Wear them close to your chests and at the threat of even the slightest danger, they will send out a pulsing vibration.’ The three agents slipped on their watches and danger meters.

  ‘I’ve packed your MP3 recorders, which can hear and record voices up to three hundred metres away, and Night Vision Sunglasses that allow you to detect humans in the dark by built-in heat sensors. In your bags you’ll find your palm computers with translation software installed, as well as detailed maps of France and a Global Positioning System, or GPS, that will direct you to any destination you need.’

  ‘Excellent as usual, Quimby.’ Steinberger looked at his watch. ‘By my calculation, we should almost be in Paris. Is there anything else you’d like to tell the agents?’

  ‘Just one more thing, which should happen any second now.’

  ‘Hello! Oh, I hope I’m not too late.’ A voice rose from the maze of bookshelves, benches and machinery of the lab. ‘Ah, there you are. Thank goodness. I thought I might have missed you.’

  Steinberger’s face turned a deathly shade of old sport sock and his mouth opened and closed like a beached fish.

  Max and Linden swapped sly smiles. A woman in a bright red lab coat and matching hair, which was swept up on her head like an overloaded beehive, appeared beside Quimby.

  ‘Sorry I’m late. I had a particularly active morning trying to give medicine to a Japanese fighting fish.’ She adjusted her rose-shaped glasses. ‘They’re stubborn little things when they want to be. Hello, agents. And Steinby. Lovely to see you as always.’ Dr Frond waved. The normally in-control Steinberger giggled feverishly and his arm slipped off the armrest.

  Dr Frond was the head of the Plantorium, the centre for creating new plant-based products for Spyforce, and the object of Steinberger’s not-so-secret crush. �
��In your packs you each have toiletry bags.’ She held out a cake of soap, a packet of talcum powder and two travel-size bottles marked ‘shampoo’ and ‘conditioner’.

  ‘They’re not just to keep us clean, are they?’ Linden asked.

  ‘No.’ Frond smiled. ‘They are much cleverer than that. The soap is Professor Plomb’s newly disguised Silent Bomb, which you activate by pulling this rope embedded in the end. The talcum powder is actually Snooze Powder that, when inhaled, will induce a deep sleep. The shampoo is Invisibility Cream and the conditioner is the Antidote to make you visible again. There’s also a deodorant, which is really Wake-Up Spray.’

  ‘Does it smell better than the last one Linden used on me in Malta?’ Max asked. Many of Frond’s products had an unfortunate knack of smelling like dead fish.

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ Frond shrugged. ‘But we’re working on it.’

  Quimby clapped. ‘And now you are fully equipped for your mission to Paris.’

  Sleek’s voice came to life above them. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Paris, one of the most romantic cities in the world.’

  Steinberger, who had been quietly staring at Frond for her entire speech, sighed, before continuing to stare in silence.

  ‘Steinberger?’ Max waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn’t move.

  Quimby had a try. ‘Your agents are ready, Steinby. And I think you’re about to land.’

  ‘Good. Wonderful. Magnificent,’ he whispered.

  ‘Thanks for the gadgets, Quimby and Frond.’ Max had had enough of Steinberger’s love paralysis.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Quimby said. ‘And may the Force be with you.’

  Max leant over and stopped the transmission.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Sleek announced, ‘please stow all projection screens, tighten your seatbelts and get ready for one smooth landing.’

  Max looked at Steinberger’s love-dazed gaze and sighed. She tightened his seatbelt and pressed the button on his armrest to retract the screen.

  ‘Time for the pact.’ Linden held out his hands to Toby and Max.