Making the Grade (The Model Spy #2)

Chapter 9 - The Team

Fred nudged me slightly, rousing me from my nap. I lifted my head, my neck sore from its awkward position resting on my shoulder. I rubbed it gently, smoothing out the cricks.

“Are we there?” I asked. I looked out the window, but thick, gray clouds hid the view below.

“Nearly. I wanted to go over a few things with you and Max before we touch down,” Fred said, crossing his legs and setting the metal suitcase Zach had given him earlier on the seat next to him. “Can you wake up, Max?” He nodded towards Max. His eyes were closed, his chin against his chest, as he listened to his iPod.

 I leaned across the aisle and shook his arm. He startled slightly, pulling the ear buds from his ears.

 “Sorry.” I pulled away. I hadn’t wanted to frighten him.

 He stretched his arms high above his head. “It’s okay.” He lifted his iPod and showed me the picture on its screen. Instead of a CD cover or a music video thumbnail, it was a book cover. I couldn’t read the title, as it was in a different language. “I was listening to an audiobook about the Russian Revolution.”

 “In Russian?”

 “No,” he laughed. “I don’t know Russian. It’s in Bulgarian,” he said, like that would make everything more understandable. “It’s a language with several differences from languages in that region of Europe-”

 “Mr. C. has once again provided an impressive assortment of gadgets and technology to aid you both on your mission,” Fred knowingly interrupted. Slipping a key from the pocket of his dress pants, he unlocked the suitcase.

 I peered inside, studying the gadgets nestled in the black velvet. It was always hard to tell what was what when it came to Mr. C’s creations. He was a mastermind in that he could create amazing, technically advanced devices that looked like every day, useful objects. Fred lifted the first items for us to see: two spiral notebooks.

 Fred handed one to each of us. The notebook was light, perhaps only a hundred sheets. I flipped through the blank pages. It was no different than any notebook I used in class, the perforated edges, the blue and red lines. Sliding his hand into his shirt pocket, Fred protruded two ball point pens.

 “I would like you to take notes,” he said as he placed the blue pen into my hand.

 I saw Max look at me out of the corner of his eye as he unscrewed his pen’s cap. I was just as confused as he was.

 “The train from London leaves at noon from King’s Cross.”

 I hurriedly jotted down “noon” and “King’s Cross” and gasped. The smooth, wet ink had disappeared. It had completely vanished into the blank pages. The same happened to Max. He tore the page out and examined the back of the paper. There wasn’t even the slightest mark that may have indicated something had been written on the page. It was nothing but a crisp, clean piece of paper, no different from the ninety-nine other sheets still bound by the spiral wire.

 “This is straight out of Harry Potter,” Max mused. He scribbled rapidly on the paper, but like his notes, the ink became invisible.

 “This is genius, Fred,” I said, studying my own notebook, “but doesn’t invisible ink date back to the Revolution? It isn’t really a secret anymore.” At least something from my CIA history class had stuck in my brain.

 “Yes, but the spies before you only sought ways to reveal what was on the page. Like using heat, for instance.” He pulled out a pink eraser.

 “You can’t erase what isn’t there,” I reasoned.

 “Exactly.” His eyes glinted and he rubbed the eraser across the page. Very faintly, my scribbled words had appeared once more. “No one will think to erase something that isn’t there.”

 No wonder this was my favorite part of the job. I scooted to the edge of my seat, peeking into the suitcase, hungry for more. “What’s that?” I pointed to a small plastic case.

 Fred handed it to me. “Contacts?” I stared at the lenses.

 “Yes and no,” he answered cryptically.

 “They’re cameras?” Max was looking over my shoulder.

 Fred nodded and handed him a disc. “Download this to your laptop. When Laura is wearing these, you will be able to see through her eyes.” He shuffled through the suitcase. “New and improved ear chips.”

 I took the jewelry box into my hands. “How are they new and improved?” I opened the box. Two garnets sparkled back at me, glistening even under the plane’s dim lighting.

 “Mr. C. thought you would prefer garnets over pearls this time around. Hence, the new and improved. Other than that…” Fred’s voice trailed off as he dug through the remaining gadgets. “And finally,” he handed Max and me a pack of lead pencils. “Dispense the lead and they act as darts. They are relatively strong sedatives.” He looked at me pointedly. “I asked Mr. C. personally to have a safety lock worked into yours. We don’t want any more accidents, do we my love?”

 I hid my face. He was referencing the time I shot a dart at my calculus teacher during class. It missed her. And it was totally an accident. Well, the first time it happened was an accident. The second time, on the other hand…

 Fred became serious, leaning in towards Max and me. “None of us have any idea as to what we are entering when we walk into this school. I want you both to be careful.” His voice grew stiff. “It is no secret that some back in the States are waiting for us to fail.” I lowered my eyes, thinking of Pillington and Lilly.

Fred took both of our hands in his. “We’re a team, just remember that.”

 “Yes,” both Max and I said, Max adding a formal “sir” on the end.

 Fred’s face softened. “We land in about an hour. Get a lot of rest. It may be the last peaceful sleep we all get for a while.”