Deep Trouble

by Rob Stevens

  Kurt sat forward and leaned his elbows on the table. ‘Well I think it’s pretty clear the Swiss have no intention of complying with our demands,’ he announced. ‘Admiral Johnston, give the order to launch the first wave of missiles.’

  The admiral glanced reluctantly at the phone in front of him, which gave him a hotline to the commander of a Vanguard submarine armed with nuclear warheads. He was stocky with short iron-grey hair. His uniform was festooned with gold braid and his chest was covered in rows of ribbon squares. His hand hovered over the receiver.

  ‘Is there a problem, Admiral?’ Kurt demanded.

  ‘The time is twenty-three fifty-nine, Prime Minister,’ the admiral replied impassively. ‘There’s still one minute to the deadline.’

  ‘Ah, that’s what I’ve always liked about you, Admiral.’ Kurt smiled coldly. ‘You’re such a stickler for the rules. What would I do without you? OK then, hold the order. Although I can’t imagine anything’s going to happen in the next sixty seconds to change the course of history.’

  The real Adam Winchester led the way up a flight of stairs decorated with portraits of every previous resident of Number Ten. Reaching the landing he turned right, then stopped dead. Archie, Barney and Gemma gathered behind him, eyeing the two Secret Service agents guarding the entrance to the Cabinet Room.

  Archie stepped in front of Adam Winchester and addressed the agent whose squashed features he recognised.

  ‘Sergeant Small,’ he said as casually as he could. ‘We meet again.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Ivan gasped with feigned urgency while the other agent called for back-up. ‘What fantastic threat to national security have you dreamed up this time, kid? Don’t tell me that a bionic man is hiding somewhere in the Cabinet Room ready to assassinate the Prime Minister?’

  ‘No!’ Barney panted emphatically. ‘Actually the bionic woman’s evil henchman is in there, wearing a rubber mask and posing as the PM so that he can steer the world into nuclear Armageddon.’

  ‘Well why on earth didn’t you say so?’ Ivan laughed sarcastically. ‘That’s so much more believable.’

  Gemma planted her hands on her hips indignantly. ‘Listen, we wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t given the impostor an armed escort into the heart of the government.’

  ‘That’s funny.’ Suddenly Ivan’s mirthless smile disappeared and he produced a snub-nosed handgun from inside his jacket. ‘Now put your hands behind your heads. All of you.’

  Archie’s instincts told him to charge Ivan. He knew he would probably take a bullet but it might distract the bodyguards long enough for the others to get Adam Winchester inside the Cabinet Room and expose Klaus’s brother as an impostor. Then he heard footsteps behind him and he instinctively knew that they were surrounded.

  Archie felt someone grab his wrists and yank them behind his back. A whack to the back of his knees buckled his legs and he was forced on to the floor, his face pressed against the plush carpet.

  Lying flat on his stomach he could see the other agents had also been forced to the ground. He was face to face with Adam Winchester, whose continuous cries were distorted beyond recognition by the tape over his face.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Archie asked, sensing the Prime Minister was trying to communicate with him.

  ‘He says he’d devised a passcode for his family to use if they need to see him in an emergency,’ Barney reported through squashed lips. ‘It’s designed to give them access to him, whatever the security situation. It might be worth a try.’

  ‘Well what is it?’ Gemma asked, struggling against the agent holding her down.

  Adam Winchester emitted a series of desperate moans.

  ‘Interpreting the message, Archie struggled to raise his head an inch and announced, ‘I’ve fuzzy white hair. I’m Carbon Pete!’

  ‘Good for you,’ Ivan laughed. ‘Take them away.’

  ‘That’s not the code,’ Barney grimaced, adding, at the top of his voice, ‘I am Buzz Lightyear. I come in peace.’

  The clock on the desk in the Cabinet Room read 00:00.

  ‘Well, ladies and gentlemen,’ the fake Prime Minister sneered. ‘I’m sure even the admiral will agree that the deadline has now passed?’

  A murmur of agreement rippled round the room.

  ‘Make the call, Admiral.’

  ‘Yes, Prime Minister.’ The senior naval officer nodded, picked up the phone and held it to his ear. He spoke into the receiver with quiet authority. ‘Yes, this is Admiral Johnston. I order you to launch strike one. Launch code alpha-seven-uniform-tango-three—’

  The admiral was interrupted by the door swinging open and slamming against the wall.

  ‘STOP!’ Archie yelled as he burst into the room.

  ‘What are these children doing here, Agent Small?’ Kurt snarled.

  ‘Ivan shrugged. ‘They’re unarmed and they gave the familial code. My orders are to let them see you.’

  ‘Fine,’ Kurt snapped. ‘Well, they’ve seen me. Now my orders are to arrest them and charge them with treason.’

  ‘Wait!’ Archie protested, looking at the famous political faces around the room. Every pair of eyes was on him, everyone waiting to hear what he had to say. He jabbed a finger at the phoney Prime Minister. ‘That man is not Adam Winchester!’ he announced dramatically.

  Bewildered silence greeted his claim.

  ‘This is!’

  Adam Winchester stepped into the room.

  A series of gasps was followed by utter silence.

  ‘An ex-MI6 Scalpel called Evelyn Tension kidnapped the Prime Minister from the Student Games earlier today. That man –’ Archie jabbed a finger at Kurt – ‘is one of her henchmen. His real name is Kurt Von Grosskopf and he is wearing a disguise created by a Face-mapping-quick-drying-liquid-latex-mask-gun. Tension was deliberately steering the world to nuclear destruction to get back at Mr Winchester for revoking her licence to kill.’

  As he finished speaking it occurred to Archie that the whole explanation probably sounded a little farfetched. He compared the dishevelled Prime Minister to the polished, well-dressed impostor, and realised his argument was pretty flimsy.

  With one eye bruised and swollen shut like a plum the real Prime Minister’s other eye stared wildly around the room. The silver square stuck over his nose and mouth gave him a sinister air and the wetsuit was a ridiculous flourish. He looked more like a lunatic asylum escapee than a world-renowned statesman. In contrast Kurt was smart and groomed and supremely confident.

  ‘I wonder,’ Archie challenged, holding Kurt’s stare. ‘Had you thought Tension’s plan through far enough to realise that you were supposed to die along with millions of others?’

  Momentarily a shadow of uncertainty passed over Kurt’s face and Archie thought he had touched a nerve.

  ‘OK, I give in,’ Kurt said.

  ‘Sorry?’ Archie asked.

  ‘It’s a fair cop,’ said the impostor, the corners of his mouth twitching. ‘Take me away and let this bedraggled bug-eyed idiot run the country.’

  After a moment’s uncertain silence someone at the far end of the table started to laugh. Realisation that their boss had indeed cracked a joke spread round the room like a wave and soon everybody was hooting with laughter at the hilarious comment.

  ‘Silence!’ Kurt roared. The laughter died immediately. ‘Get these intruders out of my sight immediately.’

  Archie felt someone grab his shoulder and march him roughly towards the exit. He felt utterly wretched. He had failed and soon the world would be on course for nuclear oblivion.

  ‘I can’t believe no one saw through him,’ Gemma said, her jaw clenching with frustration.

  Suddenly Archie’s mind was racing. What would you need to see through something?

  He remembered Holden Grey demonstrating the spiPhone and explaining the effect its X-ray camera had on certain materials. Then he thought about Evelyn Tension bragging about Klaus’s innovations with the mask-gun.

  ‘Eighty picometre
s!’ he exclaimed.

  Archie shrugged off his escort and spun round. Advancing towards Kurt he took out his spiPhone and opened its X-ray camera app.

  ‘Prime Minister,’ he called. ‘Say cheese.’

  Archie felt an immense force drive into his back. The camera phone flashed just as it was tossed from his grasp. He crashed to the floor, pinned down by Ivan’s powerful tackle. For a moment he lay still, wondering if he’d managed to snap his target before Ivan had flattened him.

  But when Archie got to his feet Kurt was smiling triumphantly at him and he deduced the camera’s X-rays must have missed.

  ‘I can see you are the sort of boy who has the courage of his convictions,’ Kurt said smarmily. ‘Well, after today’s performance you’ll be getting plenty of convictions.’ Looking around the table at the cabinet he chuckled smugly.

  No one laughed.

  ‘Oh come on!’ Kurt protested. ‘It’s a joke – he’ll be getting plenty of convictions.’

  One or two mouths opened but not with amusement. Everyone was watching the PM in absolute horror.

  His lips had started to shrivel up and his whole face was sagging. One eye was drooping horribly and his nose had come loose and was sliding slowly down his face. His whole head seemed to be melting – like a wax candle near an open fire. First one ear, then the other slipped, then dropped to the floor, and then his hair came away in clumps – sliding down his skull and falling to his shoulders.

  Within a minute all the healthy tanned skin on his face had disintegrated, leaving a pale featureless stump with a hole where its nose should have been – like a one-eyed tortoise, in an expensive suit.

  ‘What are you staring at?’ Kurt Von Grosskopf demanded, oblivious to the transformation he’d undergone. ‘Get these children out of my sight.’

  Ivan relaxed his grip and Archie sprang to his feet.

  ‘That’s an order!’ Kurt shrieked.

  ‘Bad news, Von Grosskopf,’ said Archie. ‘You’ve really lost your looks.’

  Realising that he’d been exposed, Kurt shoved back his chair and lunged at Archie, screaming furiously. Archie deftly spun round on one leg, swinging the other in a rising arc. His heel connected with Kurt’s advancing jaw and the villain dropped to the floor like a bag of sand. Instantly two bodyguards handcuffed him and dragged him away.

  ‘Talk about losing face,’ Barney muttered, shaking his head as Archie approached.

  ‘I know,’ Gemma agreed. ‘When you snapped him, his face really fell.’

  ‘He had some people fooled.’ Archie smiled. ‘But the camera never lies.’

  The real Adam Winchester was surrounded by cabinet colleagues. Having finally recognised their Prime Minister in spite of his battered appearance, they were desperate to offer him every sympathy for his ordeal.

  Grabbing a piece of paper from the desk the PM scribbled a note and handed it to Admiral Johnston. The naval officer nodded and picked up the phone.

  ‘This is Admiral Johnston. Cancel the launch, I repeat, cancel the launch. Stand down all missiles . . . That is correct – Prime Minister’s orders.’

  ‘We did it!’ Archie exclaimed, punching the air. As he high-fived Barney and Gemma he suddenly felt his tired body throbbing with aches and pains.

  With a raised finger Adam Winchester excused himself from the group and approached the STINKBOMB agents. Shaking their hands he mumbled enthusiastically for a while before turning back to the politicians.

  ‘What did he say?’ Archie asked.

  ‘He said we did a great thing for our country today,’ Barney explained. ‘He also said we were a credit to the Secret Service and that we should be proud of saving millions of lives.’

  Archie and Gemma shrugged humbly.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Barney continued. ‘And he said I was probably the most impressive undercover operative he’s ever known.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Gemma laughed, playfully shoving Barney. ‘Don’t push it, Zulu.’

  ‘Hey.’ Barney held his palms upward. ‘Why is that so hard to believe?’

  ‘I’m with you, Zulu,’ Archie insisted with mock sincerity. ‘Even if he didn’t actually say it, I’m sure he was thinking it.’

  Smiling wryly, Ivan approached Archie and held his palm up. Archie high-fived him. ‘Nice spinning back-kick, kid,’ Ivan said. Where did you learn to fight like that?’

  ‘That’s classified,’ Archie replied, adjusting his glasses. ‘I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.’

  As the STINKBOMB agents headed for the door, ready to fly back to HQ for their mission debrief, a corpulent figure stepped across their path. His olive skin was shiny with perspiration and his oily black hair curled up over his collar.

  ‘Agents!’ he said with an obsequious smile. ‘It’s so nice to finally meet you in person – I’m Hugh Figo. You can call me sir.’

  Archie’d had no idea that the man who had been sitting around the cabinet table was Helen Highwater’s boss. ‘Pleased to meet you, sir,’ he said, shaking the pudgy wet hand he was offered.

  ‘Listen,’ Figo said, lowering his voice. ‘You did an excellent job today. Excellent. You were an enormous help.’

  ‘Help?’ Archie repeated.

  Gemma folded her arms and dropped a hip. ‘If by “help” you mean that we prevented a worldwide nuclear disaster and saved the Prime Minister from certain death then, yeah, we were a help.’

  Hugh Figo chuckled good-naturedly. ‘Let’s not get carried away,’ he soothed. ‘I was working this thing from the inside. As the endgame approached I was preparing to put my plan into action.’ As he spoke his eyes darted constantly as though he was trying to keep track of a fly.

  ‘I guess you had a code seven albatross ready to roll?’ Barney asked.

  ‘Exactly!’ Figo exclaimed gratefully. ‘Look, the important thing is that good triumphed over evil, no?’

  ‘Whatever,’ Gemma scoffed.

  ‘I just have to stress that what went on in this room must never, ever be repeated to civilians.’ Figo looked sternly at each child in turn until they nodded their consent. ‘Don’t worry though. Credit will go where credit’s due. You have my word on that.’

  Buttoning his jacket tightly around his large tummy, Hugh Figo turned and waddled away.

  ‘I don’t trust him,’ Gemma stated.

  ‘He was taken in by the fake PM every step of the way,’ Archie sneered. ‘I seriously doubt he was planning to make any kind of move.’

  ‘I’m sure he wasn’t,’ Barney agreed. ‘There’s no such thing as a code seven albatross.’

  ‘Good morning, class,’ Miss Toogood said brightly. ‘I hope you all had a good weekend. As you know, some very exciting things happened on Saturday night.’

  ‘Did Hunt get a new registration in his plane-spotter’s logbook?’ Newman laughed.

  ‘Three, actually,’ said Archie, squinting through his spectacles. A ripple of amusement passed round the classroom.

  ‘I’m referring to something even more exciting than Archie’s logbook.’ Miss Toogood smiled kindly at Archie. Anybody?’

  Archie raised his bandaged hand. ‘Are you talking about the stand-off between Britain and Switzerland?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Miss Toogood opened her palms. ‘Does anybody know what caused the crisis?’

  ‘Didn’t Adam Winchester find out they were making nuclear bombs in their chocolate factories or something?’ said Holly Jenkins.

  ‘Yeah,’ Newman agreed enthusiastically. ‘So our guy said he’d blitz them, you know, nuclearly if they didn’t fess up.’

  Miss Toogood nodded. ‘That’s about it – in a very small nutshell. Our guy – Adam Winchester, the Prime Minister – set a deadline of midnight on Saturday for the Swiss government to comply with his demands. The cabinet gathered in Ten Downing Street with some top military officers and Secret Service officials, waiting to hear from the Swiss Ambassador. At a minute to midnight there was still no word from Switzerland and we were literally teete
ring on the brink of nuclear war.’ The class was in rapt silence. ‘Then something happened that changed the course of history – and probably saved the world. Does anybody know what stopped the Prime Minister launching those missiles?’

  Miss Toogood looked around the classroom at the pairs of wide eyes and open mouths.

  ‘Barney?’

  ‘Yes, miss?’ Barney replied, his blue eyes wider than most.

  Miss Toogood approached his desk. ‘Do you know who saved the world?’

  ‘It wasn’t me, miss,’ Barney gabbled. ‘And it wasn’t Archie either.’

  The classroom exploded with laughter.

  ‘Really?’ Miss Toogood teased with mock disbelief. ‘You didn’t avert certain disaster in Ten Downing Street on Saturday night?’

  ‘No, miss. We didn’t rescue the real Prime Minister from an evil villain’s lair and fly him back to Downing Street to confront the dude who was posing as Adam Winchester so that he could deliberately start a nuclear war. And Archie didn’t use his X-ray camera to melt the bad guy’s rubber mask so everyone could see he was a fake.’

  Everyone in the class was hooting with laughter. All around the room children had fat tears rolling down their red cheeks as they gasped for breath between their hysterical peals.

  ‘OK, Barney,’ said Miss Toogood reassuringly. ‘I believe you.’

  Barney turned and winked at Archie.

  The teacher continued. ‘What happened was that the cabinet ministers spent hours rigorously inspecting the dossier on the Swiss bomb factories. At the very last minute Adam Winchester identified a detail that discredited the entire document so he called off the nuclear strike.’ Winking at Barney she added, ‘Although, to be honest, I much prefer Barney’s story about rescuing the Prime Minister from an evil mastermind’s submarine . . . OK, everyone, open your textbooks at page fifteen.’