Get Smart-ish

by Gitty Daneshvari

  “But we’re not. And now we have to pretend like we don’t know what Darwin, Oli, and Hattie are really up to,” Jonathan grumbled. “That’s not going to be easy.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re operatives,” Nina said. “Pretending is part of the job.”

  “Oh, yeah, right,” Jonathan responded as he started to fidget with the zipper on his jacket.

  “You seem awfully nervous for operatives,” Nina said, narrowing her eyes at Jonathan and Shelley.

  “Nervous? Us? No way!” Shelley shot back. “We’re as cool as a couple of cucumbers in the produce aisle.”

  “No,” Nina retorted. “You’re not. You’re anxious. You’re unsure of yourselves.”

  “We are,” Jonathan admitted. “And there’s a good reason for that. We’re members of the League of Unexceptional Children. A covert network that uses the United States’ most average, normal, and utterly forgettable children as spies.”

  “Johno! We weren’t supposed to tell anyone!”

  “If we’re going to help Nina, she needs to know the truth. She needs to know who she’s dealing with,” Jonathan explained.

  “Thank you for trusting me,” Nina said as she looked out the window. “We’re almost down; I’d better go. I’ll be in touch.”

  And just like that, the girl was gone.

  OCTOBER 27, 8:23 A.M. BAE HEADQUARTERS. LONDON, ENGLAND

  “You ready?” Jonathan asked Shelley as they prepared to enter BAE headquarters.

  “It’s going to be a piece of cake. Hattie’s not the only actress in this crowd.”

  “Just do your best to stick to the plan and keep the improvising to a minimum,” Jonathan implored Shelley as he opened the door.

  “Good morning, fellow operatives!” Shelley called out loudly upon seeing Randolph, Oli, Darwin, and Hattie seated at a table. “We come bearing news.”

  “Do tell,” Randolph replied stiffly.

  Shelley pulled out a chair, plopped down, and then blurted out, “Nina’s fled to Castle Combe to see her grandmother.”

  “What did you say?” Darwin exploded, running his fingers through his hair.

  “I said Nina’s gone to Castle Combe to see her grandmother,” Shelley reiterated.

  Oli narrowed his eyes. “How on earth do you know this?”

  “How on earth do I know this?” Shelley repeated as she pushed her messy blond locks out of her face. “Nina told me.”

  “You’ve spoken to Nina?” Darwin screeched as he stormed across the room, stopping inches from Shelley’s face. “You spoke to Nina and you didn’t tell us?”

  “I spoke to Nina…in a dream. She said, ‘Hey, girl, this is getting crazy so I am going to bolt, head on up to Granny’s for some tea and biscuits, check ya later.’”

  “That’s how Nina speaks in your dreams?” Oli asked, clearly perplexed by the whole story.

  “They’re my dreams—she can speak any way she wants to, okay? I don’t put rules on my guests,” Shelley said with a huff.

  “And by guests, she means people that randomly show up in her head while she’s sleeping, not people she actually knows,” Jonathan clarified.

  “So the Castle Combe tip came from a dream?” Darwin clarified. “Hardly a reliable source.”

  “I get some of my best tips from dreams,” Shelley pressed on. “If I were you, I would check it out.”

  “I don’t think so,” Darwin said, prompting Shelley to clench her jaw, disappointed that her plan to get the BAE agents out of town had failed.

  “Jonathan? Shelley?” Randolph said while reading a message on his phone. “The prime minister’s secretary has just written to inform me that you have guests waiting for you at Downing Street.”

  “Guests?” Jonathan asked.

  “Your friends from America, Mr. Humphries and Ms. Maidenkirk,” Randolph answered.

  “Who are they?” Darwin asked.

  “Our students,” Shelley spat out quickly. “We tutor them in mahjong and backgammon—those are our specialties after all.”

  “You brought your students on a mission?” Oli asked as Jonathan sighed at Shelley’s poorly thought-out cover.

  “Of course not. They followed us,” Shelley said. “To be honest, they’re more stalkers than students. But they’re old. So we don’t have the heart to take out restraining orders.”

  “And on that note,” Jonathan interjected, “I think it’s time we attend to our stalkers and whatever backgammon or mahjong emergency they’re dealing with today.”

  OCTOBER 27, 12:46 P.M. 10 DOWNING STREET. LONDON, ENGLAND

  “Kiddos, there’s trouble on the home front,” Hammett announced to Jonathan and Shelley while pacing back and forth in the kitchen.

  “But don’t worry,” Nurse Maidenkirk added. “No one’s dead. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Thanks for those comforting words,” Shelley said with a quick roll of the eyes.

  “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Jonathan demanded, his patience waning.

  “It’s nothing the nurse and I can’t handle, but here’s the thing: We’re leaving this joint. We’re kicking this pop stand. Today. And not because we want to but because we have to. All I can tell you is that when trouble calls, she means business.”

  “Why is trouble a girl?” Shelley asked, lowering her glasses and peering at Hammett.

  Nurse Maidenkirk raised her eyebrows. “Shelley has a point.”

  “This conversation right here, right now, is exactly why trouble’s a woman!” Hammett said.

  “Sometimes it’s best just to admit defeat and move on,” Jonathan advised Hammett.

  “You know, kid, you’re not as dim a bulb as you seem.”

  “Thanks for the sort-of compliment,” Jonathan responded.

  “We spoke to the prime minister and one-eyed Randy this morning, gave them a quick rundown on the news. They’re stiff and formal, but they’re good eggs,” Hammett said with a wink. “Keep your wits about you, kiddos. Trouble, whether it’s a boy or a girl, is lurking all around you and don’t you forget it.”

  OCTOBER 27, 2:46 P.M. HYDE PARK. LONDON, ENGLAND

  “May I ask why you placed a jalapeño in my pocket?” Randolph said as he strolled through Hyde Park with Jonathan and Shelley.

  “Shells, that’s League code. Why would you expect Randolph to understand it?”

  “I didn’t, which is why I also placed a note in his pocket asking him to meet us in the park,” Shelley explained.

  “Then why did you put the jalapeño in there too?” Jonathan asked.

  “An early Christmas gift.”

  “May we please get on with the matter at hand, whatever that may be?” Randolph interrupted.

  “Randy? Can I call you Randy? And please feel free to call me Shelltastic.”

  “How kind of you,” Randolph responded brusquely.

  “He doesn’t mean that, Shells, it’s sarcasm,” Jonathan explained.

  “Luckily for you, I’m immune to sarcasm,” Shelley said with a smile before her expression turned serious. “Here’s the thing: We wanted to talk to you about Oli, Hattie, and Darwin. How well do you know them?”

  “They were thoroughly vetted before joining BAE, so whatever you are implying or insinuating, I assure you, you are mistaken,” Randolph stated curtly.

  “Yeah, but you also thought Nina had been thoroughly vetted and now you think she’s some kind of crazy radical,” Shelley pointed out.

  “I must admit the news about Nina was deeply shocking.”

  “Randolph, we don’t have time to beat around the bush,” Jonathan blurted out. “So I’m just going to come out and ask you whether it’s possible that Darwin, Hattie, and Oli are trying to get their hands on LIQ-30 to use against possible threats to society.”

  “We also think they concocted the whole environmentalist story just to cover up the fact that Nina was actually trying to stop them,” Shelley added. “Think about it. Did you ever know Nina to be an environmentalis
t before any of this happened?”

  “Passions often hide below the surface, especially when espionage is involved. It is hardly unheard of for an operative to harbor secret political persuasions.”

  Frustrated, Shelley raised her voice. “Open your eyes, Randy! Can’t you see that something is happening here?”

  “Poor choice of words, Shells.”

  “I meant see with the one eye you have. Obviously you can’t see with your glass eye,” Shelley said before pausing. “And on that note, I would like to issue a formal retraction of everything I just said.”

  “You have nothing but tales. And in my world, facts are all that matter. Bring me proof and I will listen, but without it, you are not only wasting my time but your own. You need to focus on tracking Nina, not taking down your fellow operatives!” Randolph snapped before stomping away.

  “That went well. And by well, I mean a total disaster,” Shelley said as she watched Randolph disappear from view. “I think it’s time to go rogue.”

  “Meaning?”

  “We wait for Nina’s signal,” Shelley answered. “And then we take them down.”

  OCTOBER 28, 6:22 A.M. 10 DOWNING STREET. LONDON, ENGLAND

  “Wake up, Johno!” Shelley said, her face so close that he actually felt her breath warming his skin.

  “Too comfortable, you are definitely too comfortable with me. A simple tap on the arm would have done the trick.”

  “It’s time,” Shelley announced.

  “Time for what?”

  “To get up and save the day.”

  “What?” Jonathan muttered, leaning forward in bed.

  “Danger called and guess who answered? Me!”

  “Shells, can you please stop talking like you’re in a comic book and just tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nina texted. She finally found a safe laboratory to destroy LIQ-30.”

  “Excellent,” Jonathan replied, stifling a yawn.

  “Only, she needs our help breaking in.”

  “It’s beginning to feel like breaking and entering is as normal as using a key,” Jonathan moaned.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, because we’re breaking into Buckingham Palace. You know, the queen’s house, her crib, her main pad, her—”

  And with that, Jonathan pulled the sheet over his head and sighed.

  “Come on, Johno! Mrs. Cadogan’s making breakfast. When I told her we were breaking into Buckingham Palace, she said we deserved pancakes!”

  Pottering around the kitchen in a gray housedress, a striped apron, and a gas mask sitting atop her head, Mrs. Cadogan appeared more than a little eccentric.

  “Good morning, children,” the old woman called out cheerfully as Jonathan and Shelley walked into the room.

  “Someone woke up in a good mood,” Jonathan noted as he took a seat at the table.

  “Haven’t you heard? We’re winning the war!”

  “Talk about old news,” Shelley whispered to Jonathan as she grabbed a pancake. “Do you think I should wear pearls? You know, just in case we run into Her Majesty.”

  “Shells, the queen has not invited us to tea. This is a mission, plain and simple. After that, it’s back across the pond.”

  “…So, no pearls?”

  OCTOBER 28, 2:03 P.M. BUCKINGHAM PALACE. LONDON, ENGLAND

  “Three children, please. And may I add, you really ought to consider expanding the age options. There needs to be something between child and adult; perhaps you could call it almost adult,” Shelley suggested to the woman working the ticket booth at Buckingham Palace.

  “I’m sorry, young lady, but did you say something?” the woman asked.

  “Oh, I said something, all right!” Shelley replied with a huff as Jonathan pushed her out of the way.

  “Three children, please,” he repeated.

  “That’ll be sixty-two pounds, forty pence,” the woman responded, handing over three tickets.

  “Just think, Nina, soon the world will no longer be in danger of seriously confused people with the attention span of gnats. Well, at least not newly confused people with the attention span of gnats,” Shelley rambled as they waited for the start of the tour.

  Nina looked around the ticket hall, anxiously checking for any sign of Hattie, Darwin, or Oli. “You’re absolutely certain that they didn’t follow you?”

  “Following unexceptionals in a crowd isn’t easy, even for BAE agents,” Jonathan said.

  “You’re a lucky lot, you unexceptionals—natural-born operatives,” Nina said with a faint smile.

  “That’s true, but it also means your dentist forgets who you are and removes a healthy tooth,” Jonathan said as he touched his jaw, remembering the loss of a perfectly good molar.

  Shelley rolled her eyes. “It only happened once. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

  “It’s taken quite a bit of work, but I’ve finally found a secure path to the laboratory,” Nina leaned in and whispered to Jonathan and Shelley. “It’s a relatively simple plan. But hopefully one that will work. You two are to break away from the tour upon entering the second stateroom. There will be a door in the southwest corner of the room—”

  “Southwest?” Shelley repeated while rubbing her chin.

  “I feel it’s important you know that we have no sense of direction,” Jonathan admitted to Nina.

  “Can you tell your left from your right?” Nina asked with a furrowed brow.

  “Most of the time,” Shelley answered matter-of-factly.

  “Very well, upon entering the second stateroom, there will be a door to your right. It leads to a staircase. Go to the second landing, climb out the window, shimmy across the roof until you see a storm drain, hold on to the pipe, and climb down to the balcony below, go through the window, and finally unlock the door. I will be on the other side. From there, we are a mere stone’s throw from the laboratory.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to switch roles? You could do all the climbing and shimmying and then let us in?” Shelley asked.

  “I’m afraid someone would see me. You two, on the other hand—”

  “We know, we know, we’re basically invisible,” Jonathan interrupted.

  “Are you sure you can handle this?” Nina asked.

  “Can we handle this? Does the pope wear plaid?” Shelley scoffed.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Nina responded. “He wears white.”

  “Really? How boring.”

  “What Shelley meant to say is, not only can we handle this, we’re ready,” Jonathan clarified.

  “Ready like Freddie!” Shelley blurted out, and then winked at Nina.

  “What are you talking about? Who’s Freddie?”

  “Nina, please forget that I even mentioned Freddie. And for the record, I don’t know anyone named Freddie. Sometimes I just say things,” Shelley explained. “Bottom line, I would like to issue a formal retraction of my statement regarding Freddie. So please forget that I even mentioned the boy’s name. Or, at the very least, pretend like you’ve forgotten.”

  Nina’s eyes started to prick with tears as she stared at Jonathan and Shelley. The mission was sure to fail with these two. There was simply no way around it. They had no idea what they were doing.

  “You’re worried we’re going to let you down, aren’t you? That we’re going to sink the mission,” Jonathan said as he grabbed hold of Nina’s arm. “But here’s the thing: There’s no need to worry. We’ve never failed a mission yet.”

  Of course, there had only ever been one other mission, but Jonathan thought it best to send Nina off on a positive note.

  “One hundred percent success rate,” Shelley confirmed.

  Nina’s face relaxed. “I must admit that is a most impressive statistic.”

  “We know,” Shelley said as the guide signaled that the next tour was starting.

  OCTOBER 28, 2:24 P.M. BUCKINGHAM PALACE. LONDON, ENGLAND

  Trailing behind the tour, Jonathan and Shelley were awestruck at the opulence of the palace.
Crystal chandeliers dangled from thirty-foot ceilings. Intricate gold-leaf moldings lined the walls. And furniture that appeared straight out of a fairy tale covered the well-polished wooden floors.

  “Is it just me, or does this whole vibe scream Shelltastic?” Shelley asked as she took in the wonders of the first stateroom.

  “Shelltastic likes chandeliers and thrones? Who knew?”

  “Bottom line, I would love a castle.”

  “Well, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when your birthday rolls around,” Jonathan responded as Shelley bent her knees and awkwardly bowed her head.

  “I’ve been practicing my curtsy all morning, just in case the queen walks by.”

  “In the spirit of managing expectations, I feel you should know that the queen does not regularly, or ever, just pop up during tours of the palace,” Jonathan explained as they entered the second stateroom.

  “This is just another reason why you have the nickname Dream Killer!” Shelley said with a huff as Jonathan turned his attention to finding the door.

  “Look to your right, Shells. That’s it. That’s the door.”

  Shelley nodded and then turned her head.

  “No, Shells, your other right.”

  As the tour prepared to leave the second stateroom, Jonathan and Shelley did what they did best—they blended into the background. Standing between two marble statues, they exchanged glances. Was it possible the tour guide would spot them? After all, the security guard at the museum had noticed Shelley when she pulled the fire alarm. But as the minutes passed, they relaxed. And soon the tour was gone.

  “Let’s go,” Jonathan whispered, and then rushed across the room.

  “Is the theme song for Mission: Impossible playing in your head too?” Shelley asked, eyes twinkling with excitement.

  “No, I’m too busy thinking about what English prisons are like,” Jonathan replied, then flung open the door and sprinted up the stairs.

  However, after nine steps, both Jonathan and Shelley were red in the face and totally out of breath.

  “Maybe it’s best we just walk quickly,” Jonathan suggested in between gasps of air, leaning against the wall.