I jumped into action, quickly changing, touching as little of the bathroom as possible.
With my old clothes in hand, I opened the door. David had already put on his photographer’s clothes. He took one look at my low-rise jeans and blue turtleneck and dug in the suitcase. He tossed me a pair of black, chunky-heeled boots and a black leather jacket.
I threw him my old clothes. “Why are we changing? The mission’s over.”
“Missions are never over until we return home.” He shoved everything back inside the suitcases. “When you assume a new identity, you maintain that identity until you’re back at home base. In case some last-second thing goes wrong.”
“Makes sense.”
While he zipped the suitcases closed, I rapidly finished off my outfit.
We grabbed the luggage and bolted out the door toward the limo and hearse.
David and his dad exchanged a long, hard hug. Then Mr. Share climbed into the back of the hearse.
After throwing the baggage in the trunk of the limo, we joined TL and Jonathan in the back. The limo pulled off, and I closed my eyes with a sigh.
Almost over. Nearly home. So many unanswered questions.
A soft buzzing made me open my eyes. Across from me, TL and Jonathan were shaving with electric razors. Beside me, David brushed his teeth.
TL handed me a small gray bag. “Get in modeling role. Wear sunglasses to hide your eye.”
I unzipped it. A butterscotch lollipop lay right on top. My heart warmed with love. How sweet—they packed my candy.
Makeup and toiletries filled the pouch. I rifled through, found a mirror, and took a peek. Sheesh, what a mess. I pulled out a wet wipe and began washing my face.
Whoever thought I’d be riding in a limo with three guys, getting ready, like sharing a bathroom or something?
We pulled up to the international airport, stepped from the cozy, warm limo, and it was like nothing had ever happened. Jonathan whipped out his cell phone, TL stuck stoically to my side, and David strutted cockily behind. I led the way, strolling through the terminal, head up and shoulders back.
“Your autograph?”
Smiling down at the young boy, I took his pad of paper and pen and scrawled Jade January. He had no idea who I was. But with my entourage, I sure seemed like someone famous.
The airport announced our flight. With a good-bye wave to the boy, we made our way onto the plane.
“Who’s Nalani?” I whispered to David after we took our first-class seats. “And what about Romanov? What happened to him?”
David shook his head with a yawn, closed his eyes, and lay back. “Later.”
I peered across the aisle to where Jonathan and TL sat. They’d already reclined their seat backs. With a resigned sigh, I shut my eyes.
David shifted in his seat. He slid his arm over the top of mine and we linked fingers. “Breeeaaathe,” he muttered sleepily.
Breeeaaathe. He was worried about my fear of flying. How sweet. I lowered my head to his shoulder, cradling our intertwined arms between us, and cuddled into his warmth.
Seconds later, he rested his cheek on my head. “Mmmm . . .”
Mmmm, indeed.
Sixteen hours later, our limo pulled up in front of the ranch with Mr. Share’s hearse behind us.
David leaped from the limo before it came to a full stop and sprinted to the hearse.
I stepped out with Jonathan and TL following. We all still wore our mission clothes.
David flung open the back of the hearse and disappeared inside. Seconds later, he emerged with his father. Mr. Share squeezed David’s shoulder and said something. David laughed. The sound brought a smile to my face. I hadn’t seen him so genuinely happy in a while.
His hand still on David’s shoulder, Mr. Share approached us. He and David didn’t look anything alike. Exact opposites really. Mr. Share stood a little shorter than David and had blond hair instead of brown. David must favor his mother.
TL popped the trunk on the limo. “How was the coffin?”
“Soft jazz, Cheetos, sweet tea, a down pillow, full night’s rest.” Mr. Share smiled. “All my favorite things. It’s been ten years since I’ve had them. I can’t complain.”
His coffin ride sounded more comfortable than our first-class seats.
I was dying to ask him about the last ten years of his life. But TL had told me Mr. Share was not allowed to say anything or access a computer until IPNC officials had debriefed and cleared him.
Mr. Share closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. He drew in a slow, deep breath.
I watched him, wondering what it would be like to be locked away for ten years without fresh air, the sun, the rain. To sit at a computer year in and year out and steal money for a terrorist. It was amazing that he hadn’t gone insane from the isolation. Thoughts of David must have kept him going.
TL grabbed two suitcases from the limo’s trunk. “We’ll pile the luggage in the hall and head straight to the computer lab.”
I peeked at my watch. My teammates would be home from school in a little while. The thought excited me. I realized that I’d missed them.
Jonathan and David each took a duffel bag. I reached for a suitcase at the same time as Mr. Share.
“Sorry.” I laughed.
He smiled at me. “ST and BIR,” he whispered, as he quickly picked up another piece of luggage and strode toward the front door.
ST and BIR?
Scrunching my brows, I studied his back, slowly following everyone inside. I tried to catch Mr. Share’s eyes to silently ask him what he meant, but he wouldn’t look at me.
Minutes later, we entered Chapling’s and my lab. Chapling’s and my lab. I loved saying that.
Chapling stood at the coffeepot, pouring himself what I felt sure was his billionth cup of the day.
He glanced up as we strode in. “Hey!” He caught sight of Mr. Share. “Mike!” Chapling put the pot down and hurried over. “Wow!”
Chuckling, Mr. Share leaned down and hugged him. “Hey, Chap, been a long time. You look just the same.”
“Oh, yeah. Yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah. Still short and redheaded.”
Everyone laughed.
Chapling gave me a quick hug. “Missed you.”
I squeezed him back. “I missed you, too.”
He waved everyone in. “Come in. Welcomewelcomewelcome.”
We all scooted in.
Chapling wiggled up onto his stool. “So where’s this famous chip you programmed with all the government’s information?”
Mr. Share leaned against the table bisecting the lab. “It’s in David’s butt.”
David and I exchanged confused glances.
Chapling burst out laughing. “It’s in his butt?”
“That’s right.” Mr. Share nodded.
TL shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Mr. Share turned to David. “Know that tiny scar on your backside?”
David nodded.
“That’s where I had it surgically inserted over a decade ago.”
Nobody uttered a sound. Probably because they were thinking the exact same thing as me. What the . . .?
“You mean”—David laughed—“I’ve been carrying around the key to our nation’s security in my butt?”
“Yep.”
“Man, dad, you’re a loon.”
Mr. Share shrugged. “I have my moments. So, if GiGi will excuse us, the doctor should be here any second. We can finally get it out, transfer the information, and then lock it away for good.”
“Well,” I glanced at David, dropping my gaze to his butt. “Good luck.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “Thanks.”
TL followed me from the lab. We made our way through the ranch’s underground hallways, past the locked doors that still remained a mystery to me.
At the elevator, TL stopped me. “I’m proud to say I’ve been on a mission with you. You not only met my expectations but far exceeded them. You’ve proven time and time a
gain how valuable you are to this team. Don’t ever question or forget that.”
Pride swelled inside me. TL rarely gave accolades unless he really meant them. So when he did, it made it even that much more special. “Thank you.”
He nodded.
My brain replayed his praise over and over again as I rode the elevator to the main floor. We parted ways in the hallway, he to his office and me to the girls’ bedroom. Amazing how many changes I’d been through over the past couple of months. Emotionally and physically.
I never imagined I’d turn out this way.
I entered the girls’ bedroom, heading straight for my old dinged-up suitcase. Time to unpack. Time to make this place my real home.
Beaker sat cross-legged in the corner with Wirenut. She’d dyed her hair blue while I was gone. They were unpacking their book bags. They must have just gotten home.
I smiled at them both. “Hi.” Boy, it felt good to see them.
Wirenut glanced up and returned my smile. “Welcome home, GiGi. Everyone missed you.”
“Thanks.”
“Nice shiner.” Beaker smirked.
Okay, apparently everyone missed me but her. I didn’t take offense, though. Her smirk was her way of saying she’d missed me.
I wanted to tell them everything about my mission, but I wasn’t allowed. They knew that and didn’t ask for details. TL would tell them what he wanted them to know.
Wirenut nodded to my dresser. “Your new glasses came in. They look a lot better than those big old black geeky ones you’ve been wearing.”
I made a face at him and he laughed.
Bruiser rushed into the room, closing the door behind her. Her T-shirt read JUST TRY ME. She gave me a quick hug. “Glad you’re back.” She held out her hands. “You’re not going to believe what I just overheard. TL’s on the phone with somebody, and I heard him say, ‘What do you mean the Specialists lost funding?’”
[14]
I stayed rooted to my spot, one hand hovering over my suitcase, staring at Bruiser.
The Specialists lost funding? What the . . .? It didn’t make any sense. “I don’t understand.”
Bruiser shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s arguing with someone right now. I heard him say, ‘Where are the kids supposed to go? We’re family.’”
Wirenut pushed to his feet, knocking over his and Beaker’s chemistry experiment. “Darn right we’re family. First one I’ve had, and I’m not losing it.” He strode to the door. “I’m finding out what’s going on.”
Beaker jumped up. “Wait for me.”
“Me, too.” Bruiser hurried after them.
I followed behind at a numb, slower shuffle, too stunned to do much of anything else. Where would I go? What would I do? I could go back to East Iowa University and finish up my studies. But somehow I couldn’t picture myself back in that old lifestyle.
My future was different now. I was different now. For the first time in my life, I belonged somewhere. People here relied on me and needed me. I needed each and every one of them, too.
Even Beaker and her sour moods.
Tears welled up in my eyes as their faces flashed across my brain. Chapling’s fuzzy red head and caffeine-induced hyperactivity. Bruiser’s innocent freckles and kick-butt moves. Wirenut’s goatee and electronics brilliance. Mystic’s football neck and peaceful aura. Beaker’s Goth clothes and chemistry tubes. Parrot’s Native American heritage and multilinguistic tongue. Jonathan’s eye patch and physical training. TL’s unending patience.
And David . . .
I caught my breath on an overwhelming feeling of loss. This hodgepodge of a group was my family. I couldn’t say good-bye. I wouldn’t say good-bye.
Wirenut tapped on TL’s door.
“Enter.”
“What’s happening?” Mystic whispered from down the hall.
Bruiser put her finger to her lips and motioned him and Parrot to join us where we stood.
Wirenut pushed TL’s door open and stepped inside. We crowded in behind him. “We would like to know what’s going on.”
Sitting behind his desk, TL leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He made eye contact with each of us, slowly moving from one to another. “I take it one of you overheard me on the phone.”
“Me, sir.” Bruiser raised her hand.
TL nodded, accepting. “We lost our funding as a result of the government’s budget cuts.” He closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them. Sorrow and devastation contorted his face.
I stared in stunned amazement, unable to grasp the emotion he displayed. This from a man who was always in control.
“I’m sorry.” He lowered his chair to the floor. “I’m truly sorry. I’ll call an official meeting in one hour after I know more.” He picked up the phone. “Close the door on your way out.”
We shuffled into the hall and just stood there. Silently. Our shoulders weighted with worry. I felt sure the same question replayed in everyone’s brain.
What’s going to happen to us?
With a sigh, Wirenut turned away first. The rest of us trudged behind, back down the hall to the girls’ bedroom. Nobody uttered a sound as we sprawled across the beds, fixing our gazes on the carpet, walls, ceilings, or furniture.
Silent moments ticked by, broken only by someone’s sigh.
“This sucks.” Bruiser interrupted the quiet.
Parrot flopped from his stomach to his back. “You got that right.”
“Not like TL doesn’t want us.” Beaker heaved a frustrated breath. “It’s money, right? If we could find money, we’d be set.”
Mystic shoved a pillow under his head. “Hey, Wirenut, feel like going back to your old ways? Break into a bank or two.”
Wirenut chuckled halfheartedly. “No, I’m not going back to my old ways.”
If we could find money, we’d be set. Beaker’s words echoed through my brain as I lay beside Wirenut, staring at the ceiling.
ST and BIR.
I jackknifed up, realization slapping me in the face.
Shooting off the bed, I raced from the room and down the hall to the elevator. Faintly, I heard the others call after me.
Shaking with anticipation, I placed my hand on the globe-light print scan. While the laser skimmed my fingers and palm, dizziness waved through me.
Oh, no, not now.
The door opened, and I staggered inside. Hold on, GiGi, you’re almost there.
As I plastered my body to the wall, the elevator tilted, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Don’t pass out.
Three years ago I did. From my rapid-fore processes. The doctor said my brain worked too fast for my body. I felt that familiar trance coming on now.
The elevator opened, and I stumbled out. Right into David’s arms.
“GiGi, you okay?”
With a jerky nod, I pushed away. “C’puter.”
“Wha—”
Shaking my head, I stumbled a few feet toward Chapling’s and my lab. The hallway morphed to a stretched blur. Don’t black out. Hold on.
David slipped his arm under my knees and swooshed me off the ground. He sprinted down the hall with me bouncing lightly in his arms.
At the lab’s door, he lowered me and, holding me tight, punched in the code. I dropped my forehead to his shoulder, my brain triple-timing, fighting the urge to give in and pass out.
He carried me across the lab to my computer, slid me into the seat, and placed my hands on the keyboard.
My fingers took on a life of their own, racing over the keys, translating my cerebrum’s processes.
I sat hypnotized by the scrolling screen, letting my body and brain lead the way.
Seconds passed, or maybe minutes. David slipped a lollipop in my mouth—yum, mango—then glasses on my nose. The screen cleared, and immediately my fatigue lifted. Like I’d gotten a shot of caffeine.
“Oh, smartgirlsmartgirl,” Chapling mumbled from behind me.
“What’s she doing?”
“Ohyeahohyeahohyeah. Gogogogogo.
”
“Chapling?”
“Oh, sorry.” Chapling giggled. “She’s worming her way through ST and BIR.”
“ST and BIR?”
“Security Trust and Banking International Records.”
“That’s not legal.”
“Shhh.”
David cursed. “She’s not stealing, is she?”
“Nonononono. Nothing like that. She’s looking for Romanov’s money. Shhh, let her work.”
“Exactly what I was hoping she would do,” Mr. Share whispered. I hadn’t even realized he’d come in.
They stopped talking as I wound through one account to the next. Spiraling through special-interest funds, jumping from government finances to private. With each successful hop, my crowded brain cleared a little, popping focus and energy back into place.
Aaahhh. Excitement jolted through my veins. There you are, you sneaky little weasel.
Couple more keystrokes and I clicked print. “Let’s go.”
TL closed the conference-room door. With a contented curve to his lips, he swept his gaze around the packed room. The Specialists Teams One and Two, Jonathan, Chapling, and Mr. Share all crowded in. I stood along the sidewall between Parrot and Mystic.
“By now, all of you know the government pulled our funding in recent budget cuts. I don’t think I have to say how much this place means to me. To all of us.” TL cleared his throat. “Unbeknownst to me, GiGi took it upon herself to find the needed monies.”
Everyone turned and looked at me, and my stomach turned one huge flip.
“Romanov Schalmosky made a career of stealing. Not only from the United States, but from other countries as well. He took technology, money.” TL glanced at Mr. Share. “People, too. GiGi found Romanov’s money and deposited it back in the accounts of the rightful owners.”
The entire room broke into cheers, and I grinned, literally, from ear to ear. I glanced across the room to where Mr. Share stood, and he winked at me.
TL held his hands up for silence. “We’ve notified everyone that she’s found and returned their money. And they, in turn, gave us a generous percentage. The Specialists are back in action. We’re private now, though. No more government funding. We work for whoever hires us. So let’s call it a day and celebrate. Everyone meet up top in the common area in ten. We got a party going on.”
Model Spy Page 15
