The Nightmare Vortex

Home > Other > The Nightmare Vortex > Page 6
The Nightmare Vortex Page 6

by Deborah Abela


  Steinberger held out two coathangers with long, dark plastic covers.

  ‘These are your outfits for tonight and your security passes, which you must keep on you at all times.’

  Max grabbed her uniform knowing the chances of it looking any good were close to zero, but at least she could get rid of her kitty-littered marshmallow suit.

  After Steinberger showed them to some change rooms, Max stomped out wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a black vest. All way too big. Linden’s uniform was the same except, of course, it was a perfect fit.

  ‘Is it too much to ask that I wear something that fits while trying to save the world?’ Max asked.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Steinberger apologised. ‘The other waiters were bigger than you and there was no time to get new ones.’

  Beep, beep, beep, beep. Steinberger’s pager beeped.

  ‘I have to go,’ he said in an urgent tone. ‘I’ll leave you in Irene’s capable hands.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Max needed to know in case there was a terrible disaster she could help out with or a calamitous incident only she could fix.

  ‘It’s my dry cleaning. My suit’s ready for tonight.’

  Steinberger disappeared as Max stood in a pool of disappointment.

  ‘Right.’ Irene slapped her floured hands together. ‘Let’s get to work. There’s a lot to do before the awards can begin.’

  Linden followed Irene eagerly as Max trudged behind.

  ‘Watch out everyone. This is where my life gets really fascinating,’ she mumbled as she pulled her baggy pants higher.

  ‘We’ll start with finger food,’ Irene continued. ‘Agents are an introverted lot. Cagey and quiet. Never give anything away. Part of the job. It’s our task to limber them up, make them come out of themselves, and this is how we’ll do it. We’ll start with French toast with blue honey mash and red fish eggs all the way from Tasmania, Russian squid stuffed with bright yellow zucchini flowers and black truffles from the Black Forest in Germany, and finally, organic farm-raised frogs’ legs lightly fried and dipped in wasabi and soy sauce — a little favourite of Harrison’s.’

  ‘And that’s going to limber them up?’ Apart from the time Toby Jennings pulled out his tooth and showed it to her, blood and all, Max had never heard anything so gross in her life.

  ‘I’d pretty much guarantee it.’

  Max watched as Irene and Linden bustled around shelves with piles of ingredients, sure that she could be doing something more important than playing waitress. And on a night where she should be taking her place among all the other top spies of the world. Had everyone forgotten she’d helped save the world? Twice? Was it too much to ask that —

  A loud clanging sound thundered behind her, followed by a screeching meow.

  ‘Come here, my little one.’

  Max felt as though ice water had been poured over her and knew it could only mean one thing.

  Dretch.

  His small, bent body was wrapped in his wrinkled maroon coat and his sneaky eyes spun around in his eye sockets like two lost ferrets. His hair was the same shaggy mop of grey spaghetti that dribbled in front of his face and across the scar that ran down the length of his cheek and past his grey stubbled chin.

  ‘Come to be the hired help, have you? ’Bout time they figured out where your real talents lie.’

  ‘I said I’d help.’ Max tried not to look as scared as she was. ‘As a favour to Harrison.’

  ‘Even great leaders sometimes make bad choices,’ Dretch snivelled.

  Max folded her arms and looked towards Linden and Irene who were oblivious of Dretch’s sudden appearance.

  ‘I haven’t forgotten that you tried to blacken my name last time you were here. And if I so much as hear you put one foot wrong I will make sure you’re thrown out of the Force quicker than your miraculous Time and Space Machine can get you home.’

  Max knew she’d earned Dretch’s anger when she accused him of being a double agent but she couldn’t help feeling there was something that wasn’t quite right about him. She flinched as Delilah appeared with a thump on Dretch’s hunched shoulders and after a dismissive groan that reached right into Max’s bones, they left.

  Alex Crane and Max Remy walked through the narrow ravine outside the ancient city of Petra, in Jordan. Petra also meant, City of Rock, and as the superspies cast their eyes over the temples, outdoor theatres and tombs chiselled out of solid stone they knew why. This was one of the rare moments in their lives when they weren’t superspies but simple travellers, taking in the marvels of the ancient world.

  Max stopped to look at the carvings on the entrance to the Treasury of the Pharaohs while Alex was lured by the intricate patterns and deep rich colours of a nearby carpet stand. A small, hooded man held a rug out to her.

  ‘Look closer,’ he said in a muffled voice Alex was sure she’d heard elsewhere, but before she could remember where, a large rug was thrown over her head and she was swept off her feet.

  ‘Max!’ she shouted, as she was hoisted over the man’s shoulder.

  ‘Alex?’ Max turned around and scanned the ancient arena, only just catching sight of a large wriggling carpet disappearing around a stone corner.

  ‘Alex!’ Max began to run as four large hands grabbed her.

  ‘No, no, Ms Remy. You are coming with us.’

  Who were these men? What did they want? And where was Alex? Max had to escape so she could rescue her friend before anything happened to her. Before

  ‘We’re not boring you are we, Max?’

  Irene was holding a rolling pin and staring at her with wide eyes through red sparkled glasses.

  ‘No,’ Max lied as she was pulled from her Alex Crane adventure to find herself standing over a giant tub of potatoes.

  ‘Good, because when you’re done with those, I’ve got some frogs I’d like you to meet.’

  On top of her overlarge waiter’s suit, Max was wearing an oversized apron that had been bleached so bright she almost had to wear sunglasses, and on her head perched a white hat that had all the elegance of a collapsing tent. She’d peeled her last potato and happily thrown it into the tub when a hefty-bellied man wheeled up another tub.

  ‘If there’s one thing you’ll learn about spies, they love their taties.’

  ‘Do they?’ Her look dared the man to say one more word. He got the message and left quietly.

  Linden, meanwhile, seemed to be enjoying every minute of their excursion into kitchen hell and had glued himself to Irene’s side.

  ‘What is it with Linden?’ Max asked herself. ‘He always smiles, never gets angry and no matter what he’s asked, he’s always eager to help out. It’s not normal. Everyone gets grumpy. It’s one of those rules of being human.’

  She threw another potato into the tub.

  ‘I’ll bet Alex never had to peel potatoes on her way to being a great spy. At least this has got to be as bad as it gets.’

  But just then, things got worse.

  Through the rows of metal shelves holding pots, egg beaters, whisks, sifters and graters, Max saw another collapsing tent hat bob through the swinging doors.

  There was a rabble of fussing, helloing and laughing before Max realised the terrible truth.

  It was Ella.

  ‘Of course,’ she moaned to herself. ‘Just when I thought I was surrounded with as much bad luck as even I can stand, she has to walk into my life.’

  ‘Max!’ Linden called out. ‘Ella’s here.’

  ‘Yippee. Start the party everybody,’ she mumbled as they came over.

  ‘Hi, Max! It’s great to see you again.’

  Of course it is, thought Max.

  ‘Yeah. Great.’

  ‘Ella said we need to get ready to leave for the secret location.’

  Typical. Ella arrives after the hard work is done and has all the important information.

  They packed the food in containers and loaded them onto trolleys as Ella and Linden began their usual stream of hig
h-powered chat.

  ‘How did you get here?’ Linden asked.

  ‘By the Invisible Jet. Sleek was feeling better so he volunteered to pick me up, but I heard you got here using the Transporter Mark II.’

  ‘Yeah! Ben and Francis finished it and think they finally have the answer to time travel as well.’

  ‘Awesome!’

  ‘Okay kids, it’s time to get you down to Quimby to get kitted out,’ Irene interrupted Ella and Linden and saved Max’s life. If she’d had to listen one second longer to this touching reunion scene, she was going to fall into a deathly coma.

  Then Max was struck by what Irene had said. ‘Quimby? Are we going on a mission after all?’

  ‘Because we’ll be on maximum security alert this evening, all agents have been equipped by the lab in case of an emergency. Purely precautionary I’m afraid, Max.’ Irene smiled gently, knowing how desperate Max was for a mission.

  On the way to the lab, Linden and Ella babbled on about their spy training. Ella had done hers in London and, of course, had had a great time and was probably an expert at everything.

  ‘There’s still so much to learn,’ she added.

  I’ll say, thought Max. Like knowing when you’re not welcome. But then Max saw something that made her puke-covered day even worse.

  ‘The Wall of Goodness!’ Ella cried like Christmas had come early.

  ‘Do we have to go through this again?’ Max found it hard to hide her contempt.

  ‘It’s the only way we can get to the lab. Besides,’ said Irene, trying to encourage her, ‘it’ll be fun.’

  ‘If you’ve had your brain rearranged and swapped with a piece of jelly.’ Max scowled as they approached the wall and stood perfectly still.

  The Wall of Goodness was a security procedure that allowed a person entry once it had assessed their level of goodness. As expected, after a few seconds the atoms in the impenetrable-looking stone wall began reconfiguring as it wrapped itself around the visitors in a gurgling, squelchy blob.

  ‘I love this part,’ shouted Irene as she was being squished like a ball of human dough, but before she could say any more she was sucked through to the other side in one custardy squelch.

  ‘All right!’ yelled Ella as the wall massaged her into a fit of unstoppable giggles. Slurp! Ella also disappeared.

  Of course, Max thought, Ms Perfect had to go next, didn’t she?

  ‘Aaah!’ Max watched as Linden was also gobbled up by the rocky, gurgling procedure.

  After a few more moments of slobbering, Max had had enough. ‘Okay, wall. Now let’s not get smart about this, okay? You and I have been through this before and nothing has changed. You can play your massage game all day if you like, but I’m good and I’ve got important work to do.’

  The wall then did something strange. It hiccupped and spluttered, like it was running out of energy.

  ‘Wall? What’s going on?’

  More spluttering and chugging and still Max wasn’t let through.

  ‘Wall, you’re starting to freak me out. I told you I was good so what’s your —

  Before she could finish, the wall spat her out like a bowling ball in a powerful, tumbling splat.

  ‘Max, you’re here. Now we can begin,’ Quimby said to a mangled Max after she slid to a stop in the centre of the lab.

  ‘There’s gotta be a better way to do that,’ Max complained as she unwound herself and stood with the others.

  Quimby’s normally unruly hair was pulled up on her head in a plaited and coiled nest and her usual colourful trainers had been replaced by high-heeled shoes and shimmery stockings.

  ‘Welcome back to Spyforce. In your packs you’ll find a torch, a pocket knife, a laser and the Abseiler that you’ve all used during training,’ Quimby began. ‘There’s also the Silencio, which when sprayed, makes a person completely silent and the Freeze Ray, which renders a person unable to move. Finally, the Slimer, which coats your enemies in a purple chewy slime making it hard for them to move. The slime was created in Spyforce’s Plantorium and is made totally of plant-based materials. Be very careful, though. These last three devices may not work properly in extreme temperatures, and always keep their safety latches on when not in use.’

  Quimby picked up one of the packs. ‘These may look like regular packs, but if you pull this toggle, they transform into Personal Flying Devices, or PFDs. PFD also stands for Personal Flotation Device, which the pack will do if you happen to make a watery landing. The lever at the side extends from the bag and controls speed and direction. They can be a little tricky to handle, like the first time Spiderman tried to use his webslinger, but once you get the hang of it, you won’t want to come down.’

  They each put their packs on and pulled the toggle. A soft whhhppp sound was heard as a small mechanical device poked out from the bottom of their packs.

  ‘The PFD will fly in whatever direction you push the lever. To fly up, pull the lever towards you. Push it hard to go fast and softly to go slow. The button at the end of the lever is for stopping. Press that and the PFD will slowly bring you in for landing. Off you go.’

  Ella and Linden extended their levers and pulled them towards them. Slowly they lifted off the ground and after a little fumbling, they seemed to get the hang of the PFD.

  ‘Your turn, Max,’ Quimby encouraged her.

  Max put her hand on the lever and fearing she’d make a complete fool of herself, slowly moved it towards her. She wobbled as the PFD lifted her off the floor, but with a few near tumbles and swaggers, she moved forward and was soon flying like Linden and Ella.

  Quimby watched proudly as the three young spies tackled the new device.

  ‘This is excellent,’ Linden called as he flew past Max, but then she sneezed, which pushed her forward against the lever and sent her zooming across the room towards a giant balloon.

  ‘Watch out, Max!’ Ella cried.

  Max tried to pull back but it was too late. She sailed into the balloon with a dull phhhrrrrt and slid to the floor.

  Ella and Linden pressed their stop buttons and slowly landed as Quimby ran over to Max. ‘Are you okay?’

  Max’s body was fine, it was her pride that was in tatters.

  ‘Yep,’ Max said as she stood up. ‘What is that thing?’

  ‘A hydro balloon I am experimenting with to transport Frond’s rare and delicate plants.’

  ‘Otherwise known as the thing that cushioned your fall.’ Linden thought it might have been funny but now that he’d said it, he knew otherwise.

  ‘Time to go,’Quimby said. ‘Good luck. Hopefully everything will be fine and you won’t have to use those devices, but if you do, remember, only ever use Spyforce equipment in the line of duty.’

  Steinberger arrived in his new suit and after thanking Quimby for her help, led the team to the VART.

  ‘We’ve just been given word of tonight’s location, which we’ll reach by Invisible Jet. Sleek is feeling better and Dretch has helped prepare the jet.’

  Dretch! Max thought in horror. Maybe he’d sabotaged the jet. She still wasn’t sure it wasn’t him who meddled with her laser on the last mission. ‘Can’t we go some other way?’

  ‘Not possible, I’m afraid. Speed is of the essence.’

  They arrived at the VART to see Irene already there supervising loading the food, which seemed to vanish in midair.

  ‘Very exciting, isn’t it?’ Steinberger said to Max, who was too busy being on Dretch-watch to notice. ‘It’s quite a privilege to be going to an awards night. Most spies have to wait years. Why I remember when …’

  But before he could go on, something strange happened to him. His face turned white and he spoke in short, blathered spurts.

  ‘Steinberger? What’s wrong?’ Max, Linden and Ella moved closer as his breathing became difficult and beads of sweat formed so fast on his brow it looked like he was caught in his own miniature rainstorm.

  ‘Do you remember any first aid?’ Linden asked Max.

  ‘I n
ever wanted to do the mouth-to-mouth part so I skipped it.’

  ‘What if you ever need it?’

  ‘You’ve seen the boys in my class.’

  Linden thought about it. ‘You’re right.’

  ‘Maybe he’s got the flu?’ Ella suggested, but when they saw who had walked into the VART, they knew it wasn’t the flu.

  ‘Sorry I’m late. Got caught with a rather mischievous piranha. Frisky things when they want to be.’

  Frond. Of course. The head of the Plantorium at Spyforce and the one thing that could push Steinberger so far off the cool meter it was a wonder he ever made it back.

  ‘Steinberger. Lovely to see you.’ Frond’s enormous smile almost knocked him off his feet as Steinberger scrambled through his love-mushed brain for a way to say hello back.

  ‘Er … how … aahh.’

  ‘How can anyone be so blind about someone liking them?’ Linden whispered to Max as they watched the awkward performance.

  ‘Maybe she thinks this is how he is with everyone.’

  ‘Well, she better tell us why she’s here before Steinberger self-combusts.’

  Frond continued. ‘I wanted to wish you luck for tonight.’

  Steinberger continued to try to speak but ended up looking like a large gulping fish.

  ‘Thanks, Frond,’ Linden helped out before Steinberger did himself an injury.

  The jet’s engine revved, signalling Sleek was ready to leave.

  ‘Let’s go, everyone. Hello, Frond,’ Irene called out as she walked towards them. ‘I love the Invisible Jet. It’s the best high since the last time I went on the space shuttle.’

  ‘You were on the space shuttle?’ The more time Linden spent with Irene, the more he liked her.

  ‘Sure. Now there’s a take-off!’

  ‘Goodbye everyone and may the Force be with you.’ Frond waved cheerily.

  They all entered the jet except for Steinberger, who almost stumbled off the platform into a barrel of plant-based fuel. Max and Linden managed to grab him just in time.

  ‘Well caught. Even though it wouldn’t have been too tragic. The fuel can also double as an excellent skin cleanser,’ Frond assured them.

  Can we just go? Max thought. Adults always have to find a way of delaying the best part of things, but when she entered the jet, she saw Ella in her seat next to Linden.

 

‹ Prev