Copyright © 2014 Helaine Becker
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Becker, Helaine, 1961-, author
Dirk Daring, secret agent / Helaine Becker.
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-4598-0683-2 (pbk.).--ISBN 978-1-4598-0684-9 (pdf).--
ISBN 978-1-4598-0685-6 (epub)
I. Title.
PS8553.E295532D57 2014 jc813’.6 c2014-901582-8
c2014-901583-6
First published in the United States, 2014
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014935380
Summary: The spy missions of Darren Dirkowitz (aka Dirk Daring, Secret Agent) are interrupted when his stepbrother gets hold of his top-secret notebook.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Design and illustrations by Jenn Playford
Author photo by Karl Szasz
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Table of Content
Preparatory Training Mission 56: Case Report X34S1SD2 De-encrypted.: Do-Overs Are for Dead Men.
Notes from Conversation with Civilian Code Name T-Bone.: X3432ASXZC4 De-encrypted. 11/03.: And So It Begins...
Mission 1: Case Report SC4532167 De-Encrypted. Animal Morphology
Notes from Conversation With Civilian Code Name T-Bone. X3432ASXZC4 De-Encrypted. 11/04
Mission 2: Case Report FG1512XCV45B001 De-Encrypted. Springing the Trap
Notes from Conversation With Civilian Code Name T-Bone. X3432ASXZC4 De-Encrypted. 11/06
Mission 3: Case Report X3432ASXZC3 De-Encrypted. Bug Infestation
Notes from Conversation With Civilian Code Name T-Bone. X3432ASXZC3 De-Encrypted. 11/08
Mission 4: Case Report X79XYXYSXZ44 De-Encrypted. Double Cross. ****Super-Top-Secret File Folder—Location 34—For My Eyes Only****
Notes from After-School Flyer Blitz With Civilian Code Name Jewel. 72–X1X3265HB3 De-Encrypted. 11/10
Notes from Parent Council Meeting. RBS93451E1E1E45 De-Encrypted. 11/10 19:30:42
Report of Proceedings In Miss Templeton’s Grade 5 Class. M871234G934R2D2CP3O De-Encrypted. 11/12 09:32:12
Debriefing of Agent Code Name T-Bone. LALA63GHB7767 De-Encrypted. 11/12 16:32:08
Mission 5: Case Report YZ1Bh3462922SKIDOO De-Encrypted. Special Delivery
Notes from Document Transfer 3242hut. De-Encrypted. 11/16 09:48:27
Re: Document Transfer 3242hut. Transcript of De-Encrypted Message Code Name Birdy Birdy
Notes from Conversation With Civilian Code Name T-Bone. YA45321123CU De-Encrypted. 11/17 16:58:34
Mission Interruptus. 11MAMA0 De-Encrypted. 11/17 19:58:33
Notes from Conversation With Agent T-Bone. RK76456SD5135&C(&! De-Encrypted. 11/18 16:55:32
Mission 6: Case Report 650FGx1010b77RX12 De-Encrypted. 11/19 12:32:12. Ambush
Mission 7: Case Report X3X23II1683j87R2D2 De-Encrypted. 11/19 16:00:06. Confession
Notes Post Conversation With Waldo. De-Encrypted. 11/19 16:38:19
Notes from Conversation With Agent Code Name Jewel. 5678369B57BSJ6RJGN1 De-Encrypted. 11/20 10:14:16
Mission 8: Case Report 76T De-Encrypted. 11/20 12:30:19. T-Bone Stake. Surveillance Mission #1—Lunchtime
Notes from Strategy Session. 767GF78SFN45BF144 De-Encrypted. 11/22 15:55:06. War Games
Notes Detailing Significant Events of 11/23. COMA5-9034CCS De-Encrypted
Mission 9: Case Report 3498123G54523jj De-Encrypted. 11/23 10:45:12. Doo Doo Ops
Notes from Detention Session. OYW8W8W8W8W8 De-Encrypted. 11/23
Notes from D-Day. VCB)(<3X49d6581 De-Encrypted. 11/24
Notes from Suspended Animation. 12X12144C0DZZZ De-Encrypted. 11/25
Notes from Return of the Living Dead. ARBZMTBSKROSHNB De-Encrypted. 11/30
Notes from Morning Recess. L34326YZC3 De-Encrypted. 11/30
Notes from Afternoon Recess. MTWTF1130 De-Encrypted. 11/30
Mission 10: Case Report 3498123G54523jj De-Encrypted. Tuesday 12/01. Fat Cat
Darren’s Daily Journal. CV761DD9010SZCX!D De-Encrypted. 12/01
The Final Mission. jg76LKJvx3256BC3 De-Encrypted. Go Fish
Mission 11: Case Report 3232981FG7Kni5dD2 De-Encrypted. ****Super-Top-Secret File Folder****
Acknowledgments
The alley was narrow—dark and narrow. It stank like rotted vegetables and cat pee, the signature reek of demoralization and despair.
I flattened myself like a tortilla against the bricks. I had just one task now—to melt into the wall. To become the wall.
I shifted my eyes. Left right, left right. There was nothing to see, nothing to fear. Not unless you counted the rats that squeaked behind the Nino’s Pizza dumpster.
I was safe, so far.
Time to plan my next move. Just one chance to get it right. In this business, there are no second chances.
The city’s shopping district seemed deserted. But nothing is as it seems in the shadow world. I knew the forces of darkness were on the move. Watching, waiting. And they were hunting for me. Dirk Daring, Secret Agent.
Nevertheless, my stone-cold heart never changed its rhythm. Tha-dump, tha-dump. Just five impossibly slow beats per minute. Letting adrenaline seethe into your blood leads to mistakes. Rookie mistakes. And mistakes are for corpses, not master spies like me.
I darted around the corner onto Macpherson Street. Slipping from shadow to shadow, I covered the last few blocks without breaking a sweat.
There it was, the safe house. 10 Harrow Lane. To the civilian eye, a perfectly ordinary house. But to me, a beacon of hope. A promise of safety. hq.
Had I been followed? No.
I slipped around the building to the “kitchen.” I slid my key silently into the doorknob and placed my hand on the sensor pad—it was cunningly disguised as a plain green shingle. Only once my unique handprint was read and identified would my key be enabled.
As I waited for clearance, I attuned my highly trained senses to the surroundings. I heard nothing but the wind whispering in the maple trees. The single woof! of a dog let out to do his business.
And then I detected the scent of something hearty cooking on the safe-house stove. Searing meat. Melting cheese. A hint of onion…
I heard the click that meant my clearance had been approved.
Eagerly, I turned the key in the lock.
“Darren?” my mom called. “That you?”
“Yeah,” I shouted back. “I got the burger buns.”
Mission accomplished.
“You are so not a real secret agent,” Travis said. “Before you bug out on me totally, let me remind you that you are Darren Dirkowitz, an ordinary fifth-grader and all-around butt. And you don’t have a government commission, a tippity-top-secret clearance or a hotline to Her Majesty the Queen.”1
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied. “So, okay. Just playing a silly game up till
now. But not anymore. Waldo asked to see me.”
“Uh-oh.” Travis’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat like an escapee from a Halloween party.
Waldo, you see, is my crazyman stepbrother. Archenemy number 1 through 101. His “real” name is Jason, but I gave him this totally perfecto code name because you can never find him when it’s time to do the dishes. (Where’s Waldo? Where’s Waldo?) He’s about 200 times worse than Travis’s brother, Conner, who’s certifiable (but that’s another story). Conner sometimes fakes being nice, but Waldo doesn’t even try to hide his affiliation with the Organization of Evil Dinks. On the fateful day he and his dad moved into our house, Waldo grabbed me by the collar, shoved me up against the wall and warned me that if I even so much as infringed on his “territory”—his bedroom—he’d give me such a bad wedgie my eyes would turn purple. And then he’d hang me by said wedgie from the flagpole in front of our school.
Needless to say, I haven’t even breathed in the general direction of Waldo’s room since then. Not once. A smart spy knows when to lay low.
Until last night, that is, when Waldo summoned me.
“You,” he grrred at me across the dinner table. “We need to talk later. My ‘office.’”
“So what did he want?” Travis asked, his eyes the size of rutabagas.
“Well, you know how Waldo’s been elected school president.”
Travis grimaced. “Yeah. Joy of joys. Waldo with power.”
“And you know how during the campaign he promised to do all these good things for the school.”
Travis made a pppftttt sound. “As if.”
“It actually seems like he meant them.”
“R-i-i-ight…and the stork brings babies.”
“Hey, don’t count those storks out. They’re sneaky. But anyway, some of the things Waldo says he wants to do are actually good. Like holding more school dances, and getting the good candy back in the vending machines. And stopping kids from getting shaken down for their lunch money when they get off the buses.”
“I seem to remember Waldo was a prime offender in that category last year,” Travis said. “I went hungry for the entire month of March and was reduced to begging tuna sammy halves off of Lucinda Lee. Ugh.”
“Yeah, well, maybe Waldo’s changed. His dad really laid into him at the beginning of the term. He said Waldo had better quit being such a goof-off or he’d be flipping burgers at the Bo Diddley for the rest of his life.”
“And Waldo took that seriously?”
“Seems that way. He joined the chess club, ran for president and got straight As on his fall report card.”
“I don’t believe it. A creep like Waldo just doesn’t change overnight. He’s plotting something.”
“Well of course he is. Waldo’s angling to take over the school. Run it his way, now that he’s president. But he’s got a few problems. First off, there’s the Detention Gang.”
Travis shuddered. “They’re the worst of the lunch-money mooches. Practically Russian Mafia.”
“Do you think those guys will let their cash flow dry up because there’s a new school president?”
“Nyet,” Travis said, shaking his head.
“Then there’s the Green Team. They don’t want candy coming back into the school. They want everything at Preston Middle to be healthy, organic and kind to kittens.”
“I wish they’d just mind their own business. If they want to eat organic millet sandwiches, go for it. But leave my Kitty Kat Crunchies out of it, dudes.”
“So that’s why Waldo called me in,” I said.
A crease formed between Travis’s eyebrows. “Not getting the connection here.”
“Last night, at approximately 20:27, when I arrived in his ‘office’ for my ‘appointment,’ he put both of his hands on my shoulders and shoved me down on his bed. Then he got in my face and said, ‘You like to spy on people, don’t you, Darren?’”
Travis hooted and pointed at me. “Ha! And you thought you were ace at keeping secrets! Some spy you are!”
“Not much even the best spy can do when there’s a counteragent embedded in hq. Waldo snuck into my bedroom when I was in the john. He broke the lock on my desk drawer, stole my journal and decoded it.”
I could feel my cheeks start cranking out the infrared. There is nothing more embarrassing for a secret agent than getting caught, literally, with his pants down.
“Aw, man! That is low! So what did he ask you to do?”
“He wants me to get intelligence on all his ‘enemies’ at Preston. And report back to him.”
Travis nodded and stroked his chin. “Sounds like the ideal job for you, man. You do love to get into other people’s business. There’s just one itty-bitty problem. You’ll be doing Waldo the Dirtbag’s dirty work.”
“I know! And I don’t like it one bit. But what choice do I have? Waldo said if I don’t spy for him, he’ll post my journal—de-encrypted—online. If my mission notes get made public, I’ll become a marked man. And the laughingstock of Preston Middle School.”
The smile fell off Travis’s face.
“That’s just evil,” he said. But then he tipped back in his chair and started to chuckle. “Of course, it’s got no teeth as a threat, since you already are the laughingstock of Preston Middle School.”
I threw an eraser shaped like a cupcake at him. “Thanks. With friends like you…”
“Yeah, yeah. You don’t need enemies. But look at it this way, Darren. You get to do something you already do, but now it’s for a real mission. You’re not just being a weird guy with a spy obsession.”
My mind started to wander as I pondered why some kids are popular and some, like kids with spy obsessions, are so…so zero. But before I got too caught up in the murk of middle-school social life, Travis chuckled again.
“What now?”
“Waldo doesn’t own you, you know. You can still use your spycraft for your own purposes.”
“Yeah, right. Tell me another one.”
“No! Really! You can spy on him too. He’s got to have some dirty little secrets. Guys like him always do. Find out what they are, and then his threat to publish your stupid spy journal will be worthless, because you can hit back with your own threat.”
I felt a tingle spread from the soles of my feet all the way to the roots of my hair.
“Are you suggesting a little duel of spy and counterspy?”
“Agent and double agent. You’ll be the mole in the hole. The viper in the bosom. The real ‘I spy with my little eye’ guy.”
“Sweet,” I said.
“We can work as a team.” Travis rubbed his hands together in glee. “With your sneakiness and my smarts, we’ll be unbeatable.”
“Yeah! Studying study hall. Auditing the auditorium. Monitoring the hall monitors. Our mission: to make the world a better place for all Preston Middle students!”
Travis gave me a fist bump. “Now you’re talking, Dirk.”
* * *
1 Note: Travis has been my best friend since Kindie, and he is the only human, other than my case officer, who knows of my secret identity as Dirk Daring, Secret Agent. He knows it, that is, but doesn’t believe it. I have no reason to persuade him otherwise. In fact, if Travis ever began to suspect the truth about me, I’d have to kill him, and assassinating my best friend is not in my brief.
The panther is notorious for his stealth and cunning. He stalks his prey silently, with ultimate patience. I, Dirk Daring, Secret Agent, had learned all from the panther. I too knew the dark beauty of stealth and cunning. I too knew the heady bliss of the shadows.
Silent step by silent step, the panther draws closer, closer, ever closer to his prey. And I, like the panther, drew closer and closer to mine.
The door to the main office stood ajar. I pricked my panther ears. No one was near, not even my nemesis. Napoleon Bonaparte.
There was no time to lose.
I slithered through the gap and scanned my surroundings.
Left, r
ight. Left, right.
There. My prey.
The starchy aroma of cardboard made my sensitive nostrils twitch. It lured me closer.
I gathered myself for the strike, then—
Scr-ee-k!
Bonaparte!
The trapdoor spider constructs a burrow with a hinged door made of soil, vegetation and silk. It uses incredibly strong, nimble pincers to hold the door tightly closed when disturbed.
I, Dirk Daring, Secret Agent, had learned all from the trapdoor spider. I too knew the power of retreat—and strong fingernails.
Thrusting aside a mop and pail, I hurled myself into the janitor’s cupboard, yanked the door closed and gripped it tightly. Now nothing could dislodge me. Nothing.
Bonaparte crossed the outer office.
Cleared his throat—AHEM!
Opened and closed the main door—CRRRRK CRRRRK.
Shuffled along the hall to the men’s room—SHuRFF SHuRFF SHuRFF.
A chameleon knows the power of patience. But the chameleon also knows speed and surprise and has the weaponry to deliver both. I, Dirk Daring, Secret Agent, had learned all from the chameleon. I too knew the power of speed and surprise. And sticky fingers.
I thrust the cupboard door open. Zinged my arm to the right. Grasped the manila file folder. And then, sluurprthwhack, it was mine.
The serpent is a shapeshifter. It can contort itself into infinite spirals of stillness, awaiting Opportunity.
I, Dirk Daring, Secret Agent, had learned all from the serpent. I too knew the purpose of stillness. savored the pain of contortion the way a serpent savors jerboa blood.
Squinched between the mop and the pail, I waited. And waited.
My arms ached. My right foot ainfully, then went numb. And still I waited.
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