They looked younger from this far, and guilt twisted my gut for taking advantage of such little kids. I really shouldn’t have asked them to steal. I decided to cancel that order the next time I saw them.
There was something else that bothered me. They hadn’t been fazed by my request. It was like stealing from someone on another team was entirely expected. Rylee had said cheating was difficult, not that it wasn’t allowed; maybe the same went for stealing. I made a mental note not to leave anything valuable in my cabin.
Chapter 13
My team was once again huddled on Yaakov’s bed when I walked into the cabin. Their heads snapped up just like they did before. I wasn’t covered in paint this time, but still they eyed me like I had a riddle written on my forehead. Then, one by one, starting with Angie, they smiled. Amara didn’t smile, but he looked undeniably happy.
I glanced in the mirror by the door, thinking a few rogue splatters of paint must’ve survived my shower. My face was clean. I turned back to the group and started toward my bed. “What’s wrong with you guys?”
“We’re impressed,” Juno said. “Very impressed.”
“You did good,” Rylee added.
I dumped my towel and toiletries on my bed. “Impressed with what? That I managed to get all the paint off me? Gee, thanks.”
Angie smirked. “Humble, too. Not a quality I’ve ever seen in a Delta.” She gave an approving nod. “I have to admit, Captain, I thought we’d pulled the short straw getting you as our team leader. Don’t get me wrong, I was going to make the most of it, but even though you had some pretty good scores from previous camps, you just gave off an aura of …” She tapped her chin. “What’s the best term to use?”
“Inexperience?” Amara asked.
“Ignorance,” Juno suggested.
My mouth tightened.
“I was going to say fear,” Angie said. “Pure, monster-under-my-bed, blubbering-schoolgirl fear.” She flicked her hand at Amara and Juno. “But theirs work too.”
“Well, I’m thrilled to have somehow proven you wrong. What, pray tell, did I do to redeem myself?”
Yaakov turned his computer so the screen faced me. “We watched the challenge.”
“They recorded it?” I took a couple quick steps across the room to Yaakov’s bed. “And you guys saw it?”
I felt my cheeks heat up as everyone nodded. Then Rylee reached down and pushed a button. A movie played out in half speed. I leaned closer and realized I was watching myself.
On screen I dodged my way across the field toward the soccer ball. Dark objects popped up behind me and blasted cones of paint. To my credit, I didn’t look half bad, and as I continued down the field, I actually started looking pretty athletic.
I booted the soccer ball, and three dark objects popped off the ground. My on-screen self dropped to my stomach. I cringed at what was about to happen. There was no sound on the playback, but in an instant, a burst of flame consumed me. Black smoke lingered for a moment, only to be whisked away by a breeze. An oblong of singed grass surrounded me, and bits and pieces of shrapnel littered the area.
Juno let out an excited whoop and slapped my back.
I felt strangely detached from what I was seeing. For a moment I even felt sorry for the kid on screen who’d very nearly been killed.
As the feed cut out and the screen darkened, I realized that the vantage point of the filming had been from above.
“Who recorded that?” I asked. “I didn’t see anyone. I sure didn’t notice a helicopter or anything.”
“Very funny,” Yaakov said. “If only there were some kind of high-tech hardware the Agency could put in space. If such a thing were ever invented, I propose we call them satellites. It would be the invention of the century, and the Agency could access them for their youth-training protocols.” He rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Satellites?” I said. “Youth-training protocols?”
“Porcupines,” Angie said with a smirk. “Skunks. Waterboarding.” She looked at me with raised eyebrows. “What? Are you the only one who gets to say random words?”
Yaakov and Juno laughed and then abruptly stopped when there was a sharp knock at the door. Yaakov tapped his keyboard, and the screen went blank just as the door swung open. I swallowed as a woman only a couple inches taller than me entered the room. She had her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a thin face with pointy features. One hand held a clipboard at her side, and the other was behind her back. She wore a foul, tight-lipped expression that made me think of an exterminator who’d just discovered a cabin full of rats and was now contemplating the very best way to kill them all.
“Team Grizzly!”
Her voice was like a cannon, and I jumped. Then I realized everyone was looking at me. I wasn’t exactly sure what kind of response she wanted, though. It’s not like she’d asked a question. I settled on, “Um, yes, ma’am?”
“Um, yes, ma’am?” the woman repeated. She took a step closer and narrowed her eyes at me. “That’s how you’re going to speak to me? Like a frightened, stuttering schoolgirl?”
Under normal circumstances, I probably wouldn’t have backed down. I’d gone toe-to-toe with teachers or other figures of authority, but that was because I knew that when push came to shove, they couldn’t really do anything to me. I was just a kid. What were they going to do—call my parents? Oh, well. If this woman had been one of my teachers at school, I would have said something smart-alecky. But this wasn’t school, and just a couple hours ago, I’d nearly been blown up. For all I knew, being a smart aleck at Camp Friendship meant I’d be hanging from my fingernails in a cellar somewhere. Plus, she glared at me like her favorite hobby was kid-killing.
“Sorry, ma’am,” I said.
The woman forced a breath through her nose. Then she smiled and relaxed her stance. In an instant she’d gone from looking like she might skin us all alive to looking like she’d be right at home in a kindergarten. When she spoke again, her tone was as pleasant as an aunt talking with her favorite nieces and nephews.
“Did you see what I did there?” she asked. “Make a slight adjustment to your body language, add a smile, and you transform your entire demeanor. You can come across as tough as concrete or as pleasant as a summer’s day.” She licked her lips. “Remember, this is a kids’ summer camp. My number one priority is to make sure you all understand that you’re expected to act accordingly.”
Juno and Rylee instantly adopted a more relaxed posture. Angie was already as calm as she could be, and Yaakov remained as nervous as ever. Amara seemed to try to relax too. He even dropped a shoulder a bit and forced a grin, but all it did was make him look like a creepy kid who couldn’t stand up straight.
The woman patted his shoulder. “We’ll work on it.”
She took a step back and addressed the group. “My name is Elizabeth Clakk. I’m your camp counselor. I’ll answer questions, address concerns, set up your Delta training modules, and most importantly, should you make it to Week Two, I’ll be the one who approves event strategies.”
“What are the modules?” Rylee asked.
“Normally you’d get to pick your modules,” Clakk said, “but with the exception of Matt, all of you are new to being on a Delta team.”
With the exception of me? I clenched my jaw.
Dad, how many lies have you told them?
“As such,” she continued, “your modules are picked for you.” She slid several papers from her clipboard and handed them out. “Make note of time and location. Memorize the list, then destroy it in the usual fashion. The next time you find yourself on a Delta team, you’ll have your pick. Unless, of course, you win, in which case you won’t have to come back here.” She laughed and then said, “I’m not joking. Win, and you move on—and so do I.” She looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Oh, what I’d give to not have to be surrounded by little brats every summer.” She paused a moment and turned to me. “But that’s unlikely, isn’t it? You’ve p
icked a Delta team of rookies, Matt Cambridge. Any particular reason for that?”
I shook my head. “Um, no reason. Just, er, thought they looked like an interesting group.”
“Interesting?” Clakk asked. “Really? Interesting trumps experienced?”
“I think we’ll do all right,” I said. She was easier to talk back to when she looked pleasant, but not so easy that I wanted to risk sarcasm. Besides, I didn’t know why, but I had a sudden pang of defensiveness over my crew.
“You’re not like other Deltas I’ve met, Matt. Apparently the Agency hasn’t even released your full records yet. Do you know how unusual that is?”
I shrugged. “Very?”
“Indeed,” she said, “very.” She stared at me for an awkward moment and then slid another sheet from her clipboard and handed it to me. “Your training modules are mostly predetermined as well, Matt. There were one or two electives, but I picked the ones I thought would be most advantageous given your scores from previous camps.”
Great. So I had gotten a bunch of things my dad said I was good at, but which I probably hadn’t even heard of.
“If there’s something you feel you must change, let me know now and I’ll see what I can do.”
I glanced at the page. The title read CT/SERE and was followed by Archery, Swimming, Orienteering, Basic Self-Defense, and Arts and Crafts.
Those were not the activities I had expected to see. Not after what I’d already experienced and not after what Rob, Alexis, and Duncan had told me earlier. I half expected the first learning module to be something like How to Treat a Gunshot Wound or Body Disposal 101. One second I’m getting blown up and Rylee’s telling me we have psychopaths on our team, and then next, I’m getting a schedule of events that looks like it was plucked from The Parent Trap.
“You look confused,” Clakk said. “Is something wrong with the schedule?”
I shook my head. The only thing I knew was that Camp Friendship was not what it seemed. Which meant my list of activities was likely not what it seemed. Honestly, at that point, my head hurt from trying to keep things straight. Even if I’d wanted something changed on my schedule, it’s not like I’d have known what to ask for.
I shook my head. “No. It sounds good.”
Clakk raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. “Good, because as I said, it’s not like I could change a lot anyway. This year Deltas are required to take Crucible Training. Believe it or not, Ingleton is leading that section.”
Rylee gasped. “Robert Ingleton?”
Clakk nodded. “Deltas only, Rylee.”
Whatever Crucible Training was, Rylee really wanted to be part of it. Or maybe this Ingleton guy was just young and super good-looking and Rylee really wanted to meet him.
Clakk turned back to me. “You did remarkably well with the preliminary challenge. Just keep up with it and you’ll be—” She stopped abruptly and pressed her finger to her ear. A moment later she checked her watch and said, “I’m on my way.” She dropped her hands and turned back to us. “I’ll finalize these training modules and bring you all your schedules at dinner.” She tapped her watch. “Five sharp. Don’t be late. Oh, and remember, Matt, Crucible Training modules can start anytime, so be prepared.” She bit her lip. “Always be prepared.”
“I think she had one of those ear-bud communication thingies the secret service uses,” I said after Clakk left the cabin.
Everyone looked at me like I’d just pointed at the floor and said, “Lookie, a floor.”
I wiped my palms on my jeans and cleared my throat. “So, anyone done this CT/SERE stuff before? I can’t remember what those letters even mean.”
Rylee narrowed her eyes and stared skeptically at me. “They stand for Crucible Training/Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape.” She waited for me to say something, and when I didn’t, she added, “Since Robert Ingleton is leading your training, you can be sure it will be brief but focused. It’s not like he has time to hang out at a camp for three weeks.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, and I didn’t want to sound dumber than I already had. So rather than ask another question I said, “Well, at least Ms. Clakk seemed nice. I’ve had friends go to camp and they’ve had evil counselors who made their lives miserable.” That wasn’t true, but I felt I had to say something, and that lie just sort of fell out of my mouth. The truth was, Ms. Clakk wasn’t at all what I expected. Every friend I’ve ever had who went to a camp always came back with stories about how their camp counselor was the lamest person they’d ever met. That’s how it was with regular camps. I mean, just imagine what kind of person has to sign up to be a camp counselor.
“I’ve heard of her,” Amara said. “She ran a few operations in Turkey. Nice is not a term I’d use to describe her.”
“Turkey?” Juno said. “Was she working for the Agency, or are you saying she’s—”
“I’m not saying anything other than what I said,” Amara cut in.
Juno nodded and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.
“When did she join the Agency?” Rylee asked.
Amara shook his head. Rylee turned to Angie, and she shrugged. Then Rylee craned her neck and looked at Yaakov.
“Yak?”
He huffed and plopped back onto his bed and began tapping at his computer. “You know, Rylee, you can’t just expect me to have every answer to every question your little mind comes up with.”
Rylee looked at me and rolled her eyes. “He’ll find it.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t have a clue what Yaakov was looking for or what they were getting so worked up about. She ran operations in Turkey? That sounded military. And the way everyone said the Agency this and the Agency that was weird. It felt like a poke from a stick every time someone said it. There was something about that term I recognized, but I didn’t know what it meant.
Chapter 14
The mess hall was about the size of an elementary school gym. Large, rectangular tables were positioned end-to-end, forming five long rows that ran the length of the room. At the front of each row sat a circular table with six seats and above each of those five tables hung a banner with a shadowed figure of the animal associated with each team.
Most of the other Deltas were settled at their tables. Alexander Bratersky, looking as mean as ever, sat with his entire group. Chase was seated with the rest of Team Squirrel, and everyone at the table glared across the mess hall at me as I approached the table beneath the bear silhouette.
“She’s not here,” Rylee said breezily after I’d taken my seat.
“Who?” I asked.
“Becca, of course,” she said. She craned her neck around a few other students. “Nope, she’s gone. Good.”
I glanced down the row of Delta tables to the one beneath the hyena silhouette. Three of Becca’s teammates were seated at the table, and all three of them looked like they’d just seen a puppy get hit by a car.
Angie leaned across the table toward Rylee. “Maybe if you hadn’t made Yaakov spend the last few hours searching for information on Clakk, he could’ve hacked the footage for Becca’s challenge and we’d know what happened.”
Rylee grumbled something she probably didn’t care for anyone to understand.
I considered asking Rylee why she hated Becca so much, but her foul expression made me think twice. It was probably something stupid like Becca had kissed the boy Rylee liked or something. Girls were always fighting about that kind of stuff.
“We all had the same challenge,” I said. “So, I mean, if she didn’t get out of the way of those land mines, she could be really hurt.” I glanced around the table. “You guys saw it. I could’ve been …”
“Killed,” Juno deadpanned.
“Yes,” Angie said, “we know. It was all very traumatic for you. I mean, you did get a scratch from it all. How terrifying.”
I felt my cheeks flush.
“Yeah, man,” Juno said, “we all saw the footage; it wasn’t that bad. I’ve seen worse. Besides, I bet
that even if you had been blasted by those final mines, you’d be just fine. Bruised, sure, but generally fine. Certainly alive.”
“Oh, well, that’s fantastic,” I said.
Juno opened his mouth to say something else, probably to disagree, but before he could make a sound, Becca Plain was pushed into the mess hall in a wheelchair. Thick bandages covered her head and parts of her face. Her right forearm was encased in a green cast, and her left arm, while bare, bore long red scratches and purple welts. She looked, well, like she’d just been blown up by a land mine.
I turned back to Juno. “What were you saying?”
“Fine,” he said, wincing. “Maybe you could’ve been killed.”
“Thank you!” I said. I smiled at that small victory, and then stopped abruptly when I realized it meant I’d been right. I considered that as more campers filed in. I considered, too, the fact that no one seemed concerned that Becca, a fellow camper, had been so badly injured. She wasn’t surrounded by teammates or friends fawning over her and asking her if they could do anything for her. In fact, the way her teammates shook their heads as she rolled past, and the way the rest of her Delta team avoided looking at her altogether when she was pushed to the head table, it looked an awful lot like they were annoyed that she’d been so injured. Nice group.
“Welcome, campers.” Dalson’s voice carried throughout the mess hall, and I turned to the front of the room where he stood in yet another open-collared dress shirt and dress pants. “I hope you’ve all settled into your cabins and into your teams. I just have a couple of quick announcements before dinner begins. First, the results of the preliminary challenge are posted on the bulletin board outside the main office. Congratulations to all the Deltas. You all performed admirably.
“Second, we’ve said this before, but it really can’t be stressed enough: it’s imperative you remember this camp is undergoing the final stages of accreditation this summer. All of you must conduct yourselves in such a way that you appear to be typical campers. When you’re out of your cabins or wandering between activities, I’d like you all to keep shoptalk to a minimum.”
Disruption Page 7
