Mission Hindenburg

by C. Alexander London

  The altimeter read 315,000 feet.

  She grabbed her brother’s hand.

  They stood in silence as the airship rose.

  “320,000 feet,” Katlyn said. “I think we’re gonna make it!”

  Amy felt Dan squeeze her hand. Her own palms were clammy with sweat. What if Ian was wrong? What if they were about to explode?

  Cara bit her lip and Ian grabbed her hand.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked her.

  “I trust you,” Cara said.

  Amy looked at her brother. Dan gave her a smile. His cheeks were pale and his lip quivered but still, he smiled. “You know what, Kabra? Don’t ask me why, but I trust you, too.”

  Ian looked to Amy. His eyes were wide as saucers. His upper lip beaded with panicked sweat. She knew what he wanted to hear. Knew what he needed to hear. She wasn’t sure she believed it, but if these were the last words she ever spoke, she couldn’t imagine better ones.

  “I trust you,” she said. “I trust all of you.”

  Maybe she did believe them after all.

  Ian took a deep breath and closed his eyes, still holding Cara’s hand. Cara closed her eyes, too. So did Dan.

  Amy took a breath and let it out slowly. She braced herself.

  325,000 feet.

  The moment of truth.

  She didn’t close her eyes.

  326,000 feet.

  An alarm sounded. Amy grabbed Dan and hugged him against her. “I love you, Dan,” she said.

  The gas above them hissed.

  And then they started to descend.

  325,000 feet.

  323,000 feet.

  320,000 feet.

  319,000 feet and holding, 8,000 feet shy of the Karman Line.

  “What do you mean you can’t ascend?” Katlyn yelled into the phone. “The gas mixture’s too heavy? That’s all? FIX IT! FIX IT!”

  She listened a moment and then slammed down the phone. She waved her hand at the gibberish on the monitors. “Eriele, if that is even her real name, really messed us up. No way to win now.”

  “So that’s that?” Amy said. “Ian, you were right. We-we’re alive!” Relief flooded her as Dan pushed away from her hug, running a hand through his hair and pretending he didn’t have a tear in his eye.

  “I believe we beat the Outcast at his own crooked game for a second time,” Ian gloated. “Not too shabby. Of course, his so-called disaster was just misdirection to keep us distracted from the big cheat my father had planned.”

  “Misdirection,” Amy repeated. Then her blood turned to ice in her veins. “Eriele said your father wanted you on this ship, not the Lucian one.”

  “Yes, and?” Ian said. “My father never much wanted me around him for his victories. He didn’t believe I’d earned them.”

  “But you said your father wasn’t actually on board the Lucian airship, was he?” Amy continued.

  “That’s right,” said Ian. “He left his hired thugs on board with the older Lucian leaders.”

  “The same leaders who cut him off after your mother’s …” She searched for the right word. “Downfall?”

  Ian nodded, realization dawning on him.

  “Oh, no,” he said.

  Together, they all rushed to the corridor and found the nearest windows to peer out into the void.

  Their altimeter now read 316,000 feet, but beside them, less than 500 feet away, the Lucian airship rose. For a moment it seemed to hang, lit brightly by the sun against the blue marble of the earth. Clouds swirled below. Then its massive aluminum balloon rose and their airship fell into the Lucian airship’s shadow. It blocked the light from them for just a moment, looking almost like it was bigger than the sun itself, then it rose higher and higher still. They craned their necks to watch.

  It only took another minute before the Lucian ship had ascended far above them, miles above, certainly, they thought, right to the Karman Line, 62 miles above the surface of the earth, the edge of space.

  The Lucian airship had won.

  Amy saw a blinking light pass far beyond them, a mere glowing speck.

  “The International Space Station,” Dan observed. “It orbits in space two hundred and five miles up.”

  For a fraction of a second, the three vehicles appeared in a perfect line and no doubt the astronauts aboard the ISS were looking down even as Dan, Amy, Cara, and Ian were looking up.

  And that was when the Lucian airship exploded.

  Attleboro, Massachusetts

  The Outcast turned on the news as a fire crackled in the grand-library fireplace.

  Some overly coiffed foreign correspondent for one of the 24-hour so-called news networks was explaining about the airship competition, then the shot cut away and the camera zoomed up into the sky, where one airship descended to its docking station on the Acropolis. In the distant atmosphere, another burned bright like a brutal star. Bits of flaming shrapnel streaked down to earth at supersonic speeds. Sirens wailed all over Athens. The sky was literally falling on the one-time center of human civilization.

  “It’s terrible,” the news anchor narrated. “Greek citizens of this noble city are seeking shelter. No one knows where the jagged metal will fall. We don’t have an accurate count for how many casualties there are on the ground yet, but we are getting reports that there were thirty-six crew and passengers on board, many of them titans of industry and finance! There is no hope that any could survive. This brings to mind the last great airship tragedy, the Hindenburg, which, ironically, also resulted in the deaths of thirty-six people.”

  “Oh, the humanity,” the Outcast said to himself, his lips forming the edges of smirk. He shut off the television.

  A tone sounded and the painting over the mantel in the grand library slid aside to reveal Vikram Kabra’s grim face peering down.

  “You’ve seen the news, Vikram?” the Outcast asked.

  “I have,” said Vikram Kabra.

  “And Alek informs me that the Moscow base has been wiped out as well,” he said. “Fewer casualties than you would’ve liked, but they are sufficiently broken. As promised, you are the last of the Lucian leadership. Congratulations on your triumphant return to power.”

  “And my son is safe?” Vikram asked.

  “Also as promised,” said the Outcast. “They were all on the wrong airship. You did well throwing them off the scent, but I do wonder, Kabra, if you really have the stomach to see this plan through to the end. You’re far too sentimental.”

  “I want no harm to come to my only son,” Vikram Kabra told the Outcast. “I don’t care what happens to the others. I don’t think that is being overly sentimental.”

  “Ian is safe, for now,” the Outcast told him. “But know this: If he stands in the way of me getting what I want for the Ekat branch and for myself, I will not hesitate to kill him.”

  “If it comes down to it,” said Vikram. “I will decide what becomes of Ian, just as you will decide what becomes of your family.”

  “As I said” — the Outcast shrugged — “sentimental.”

  He shut off the screen without saying good-bye, and the painting slid back into place in front of it.

  Then he bent down and pulled a thick leather book from the shelf, opening it to reveal the keycard inside.

  He inserted the keycard into a safe he’d installed beneath the library floor and heard the soft click of the latch popping open. Inside, he pulled out a small envelope and removed a glass vial from within. He studied it in the firelight.

  He imagined the Cahill children running around frantic in the ruins of Athens.

  Foolish children. They think the sky has fallen. But it has not yet even begun to fall.

  Inside his crate, Saladin hissed.

  “That’s right, kitten,” the Outcast crooned, tilting the vial in his hand to bend the firelight through the brown liquid within. “One gram melted amber.”

  Athens, Greece

  By the time their airship touched down again at the loading dock on the Acropol
is, the press was swarming, emergency sirens howled, and frantic preservationists were stringing wire mesh over the ruins to protect them from the burning shrapnel crashing to the earth. Amy was awed that there were people in the world who’d risk their own safety to save ancient ruins. She wondered if some of them were distant Cahill relatives. It seemed like the sort of job for a Cahill to do. They were the keepers of history.

  Except sometimes they failed.

  Like today.

  And thirty-six people were dead because of it.

  The thought hit Amy like a punch in the throat.

  “I think it best if we make ourselves scarce,” Ian suggested, tugging at her arm. She nodded, and the group slipped down from the docking tower. They ducked behind an ambulance to hide from the press. Katlyn was already speaking into the camera of one news organization.

  “We are horrified by the attack on our fellow competitors,” she said. “But we remain prepared to demonstrate the safety and efficiency of airship travel.”

  “She’s single-minded,” Cara noted.

  “I just can’t believe my father did this,” Ian said.

  “Killed all those people?” Dan asked. “Because that seems just like the Vikram Kabra I remember.”

  “No,” said Ian. “He threw me off the Lucian airship … to save me.”

  Amy saw him struggling with the thought that he owed his life to the same murderer who’d blown up the airship, the same murderer who’d plotted against him and disowned him, and betrayed him over and over again.

  Amy looked over at Cara, who had rested her hand on Ian’s back. There was a time Amy thought that Ian had a crush on her. He’d blown that in spectacular fashion, being about as conceited and duplicitous as any Kabra could be. She hoped Ian wouldn’t blow it the same way with Cara Pierce. Amy had really come to like that girl. She was glad Ian had a friend to help get through the grief that was sure to come. He was still the leader of the family and on his watch thirty-six people had just been killed. They were bloodthirsty Lucians, but their deaths were still a tragedy.

  “Yo, Kabra.” Jonah appeared around the back of the ambulance. “I got a car waiting, Ham’s driving, and we better jet before the Greek cops starts asking questions.”

  “Ham?” Amy asked. “He’s out?”

  “In more ways than one,” Dan said, but no one felt much like laughing at the moment.

  “My lawyers earn more than theirs do,” Jonah said. “Plus, I made a donation to the mayor’s reelection fund.”

  “A Janus thinking like a Lucian,” Ian marveled. “The world really has turned on its head.”

  “Guess so,” said Jonah.

  “Okay, everyone,” Ian commanded. “Let’s follow Jonah.”

  Amy and the others, of course, already had, and Ian had to jog to catch up.

  The moment they climbed into the big black sedan, Hamilton eased the car from the parking lot with an authoritative wave at the security guards, as if it was perfectly natural for a van of kids to be driving away in the middle of an aerial disaster.

  Amy stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts.

  Ian’s father and the Outcast had distracted them on purpose, put them on the wrong airship to keep them occupied while he worked his cruel plan elsewhere. They’d been running around trying to stop him, and it had all been pointless.

  She wondered what the Outcast’s endgame was. He’d taken out the Lucian leadership, who were already on his side, killed countless innocent people, and destroyed a potentially profitable industry … and for what? What did he gain?

  So far, his only gain seemed to be keeping Amy, Dan, Ian, Cara, Jonah, and Ham busy trying to stop him.

  And now they’d failed.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out. There was a text from Aunt Beatrice’s number.

  Tie Game

  Amy’s face turned red. She pressed the call-back button.

  She braced herself as the phone rang.

  She was tired of feeling helpless. She was tired of chasing disasters. She wanted to chase the cause of the disasters. She wanted to bring the fight to him and bring him to justice for Aunt Beatrice and for all those people on the airship he’d destroyed.

  It wasn’t a pretty feeling, but Amy didn’t only want justice. She wanted revenge.

  Her call went to voice mail.

  “Listen to me, whoever you are,” Amy said coldly into the phone. “You are not fit to lead the Cahill family and I promise you this: We will find you, we will stop you, and we will win. You hear me?” She knew she was yelling now. She couldn’t help it. “You can’t treat us like pawns in your game anymore! We will end you, you monster! You hear me? We. Will. End. You!”

  She hung up the phone.

  The others were staring at her.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I just wanted him to know we weren’t backing down.”

  One look at Ian told Amy that they were on the same page. His face was filled with that cold Kabra fury she knew all too well.

  “Intense,” Dan said. “But you’re right.” He looked up at the sky through which he’d so recently flown. “We have to stop him. Whatever it takes.”

  “And we will,” said Ian.

  They were Cahills, one and all, and they did not do failure. They would not be victims. They would not let the Outcast defeat them.

  Amy’s phone buzzed in her hand once more. For a moment, she feared it was the Outcast calling back to gloat, but her heart lifted like an airship when she saw it was Nellie calling.

  “Oh, Nellie, did you see what happened?” Amy’s voice cracked.

  “I saw, kiddo,” Nellie said. “And I’m so sorry, but I’m glad to hear your voice. Are you guys all okay?”

  “We’re all safe,” said Amy. “But we’re pretty far from okay.”

  “Are you sitting down?” Nellie asked.

  “Yeah,” said Amy. “We’re in the car.”

  “Listen, I hate to make things worse for you right now,” said Nellie. “But I have some news.”

  “What is it?” Amy asked. She didn’t like the quaver in Nellie’s voice.

  “First off,” Nellie said, “the Outcast destroyed the Lucian base in Moscow. I don’t know how many people he killed, but — but it was brutal, Amy. Gruesome. He used an acid bomb.”

  Nellie was not someone easily rattled, but she sounded shaken up.

  “He’s wiping out the other branches,” Amy said, suddenly aware of a part of the Outcast’s plan that had been invisible before. This was the misdirection, perhaps. All this death and destruction just to keep them busy so he could attack the Lucian branch?

  “There’s more,” Nellie continue. “Brace yourself, kiddos. Grace wasn’t exactly the woman we thought she was.”

  “What do you mean?” Amy asked. She felt her chest tightening, a terrible sense of foreboding.

  “Just wait,” Nellie said. “Please remember, Amy, that you are your own person. You’re not your mother, or your father, and you’re not your grandmother Grace. You are Amy Cahill and you are one of the most amazing people I have ever known. I don’t want you to forget that.”

  “Okay …” said Amy, biting her lip now. “Nellie, you’re worrying me.”

  “I think you need to be worried, kiddo,” Nellie said. “Because Grace’s husband … your grandfather … well …” She heard Nellie swallow loudly, then take a deep breath. “Your grandfather is alive. And he’s got a very good reason to want revenge.”

  Sneak Peek

  Think the Outcast can’t get any more devious? Think again. His next terrifying challenge for Amy and Dan will push the Cahills to the limits. What does he have in store? Find out in DOUBLECROSS Book 3: Mission Hurricane.

  Copyright © 2015 by Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, THE 39 CLUES, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015936087

  “Landscape with the Fall of Icarus”: from THE COLLECTED POEMS: VOLUME II, 1939-1962 Copyright © 1962 by William Carlos Williams. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. and Carcanet Press Ltd. / “Musée des Beaux Arts”: Copyright © 1940 and renewed 1968 by W.H. Auden from W.H. AUDEN: COLLECTED POEMS. Used by permission of Random House, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

  Cover, back cover, and endpapers: design: Charice Silverman for Scholastic, Cover, back cover, and endpapers: images: airship 3D render: Freddie Bethune for Scholastic; Hindenburg blueprints: courtesy David Fowler; generic type blueprint: © amgun/Shutterstock; weather pattern: © Robert Adrian Hillman/Shutterstock.

  Interior: pg. 34: Airship: Freddie Bethune for Scholastic, billboard frame, background clouds, and buildings: CG Textures, propellers: Cheung Tai for Scholastic; pg. 63: “Outcast” stamp: Charice Silverman for Scholastic; pg. 96: “Top Secret” stamp: SJI Associates for Scholastic, “Outcast” stamp: Charice Silverman for Scholastic; pg. 98: paper and textures for letter: SJI Associates for Scholastic.

  First edition, August 2015

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-76925-9

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