Meet us at the school track at 7:45 p.m.
Sometimes it was best not to think about how the Agency did their thing. You slept easier that way.
After dinner, I told my mom I was going to Danielle’s to work on our field trip journals and headed to the school track. I was surprised to find Danielle there waiting as well, having gotten a similar message in her chili.
Director Isadoris met up with us a short time later and then escorted us personally down into Agency HQ. Danielle was flipping out the whole time, of course, being that this was her first time inside the secret base located miles underneath the school.
And that brings us to here, at Agency HQ, sitting across from Director Isadoris in his office. With no answers still to any of my questions. And no real information regarding what exactly was going on.
“You’re both heroes,” he said. “Truly.”
“Well, it was mostly luck,” I said.
“No, it wasn’t,” he said firmly. “Well, maybe some luck. But being an agent isn’t about having access to secret information, or being an expert with weapons. It’s about knowing what to do in a situation while under pressure. And by that estimation, you’ve proven yourself to be legitimate field-agent material. The country owes you both a serious debt of gratitude.”
“Except of course for the fact that I let Medlock get away by not following a direct order,” I said. “You didn’t ever find him, did you?”
Director Isadoris shook his head, but he was still smiling.
“It’s okay. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said. “We need to work on that here at the Agency anyway. While full transparency in our operations will of course always be impossible, I definitely think there is room for improvement on our end. Ultimately, you felt the need to make a judgment call and were simply wrong. It happens to all of us from time to time. You trusted your gut—that’s what the best agents do. Your gut won’t always be right, of course, but trusting your instincts is largely why you’ve already been such a great asset to us. Was it a missed opportunity? Maybe. Maybe not. But we got the virus back and that’s what matters most. That was ultimately your mission, and so you still succeeded in the end.”
I nodded, feeling better about it than I had since it had happened.
“If it wasn’t for Carson, we would have gone completely in the wrong direction to begin with,” Danielle said.
“Precisely,” Director Isadoris agreed.
“What about Agents Blue and Nineteen?” I finally asked, overcoming the fear that I would be given an answer I didn’t want to hear. “Are they okay?”
“They’re fine,” he said, but then held up a hand to interrupt himself. “That is, they’re not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering. Agent Nineteen suffered several serious bullet wounds, but he is in stable condition in our medical wing and should make a full recovery. He’s remarkably resilient, almost invincible at times, it seems. Agent Blue will also live, but he may never regain full use of his leg again. If we’re able to save it at all, that is. It’s still too early to tell.”
“Oh, man,” I said, feeling especially bad that he’d been injured saving my life and then I’d gone ahead and repaid him by disobeying an order a few minutes later.
“They still have their lives, don’t they?” Director Isadoris said. “And Medlock doesn’t have the virus. As far as missions go, I’m prepared to call this one a success.”
I nodded and then forced a smile. He did have a good point: It was just awesome that they both were going to live. It definitely could have turned out worse for them. For all of us, really.
“You have more questions?”
I nodded.
“Fire away,” he said. “Pardon the expression.”
“WHERE’S JAKE?” I ASKED.
“He’s in our custody in a secure Gray Site,” Director Isadoris said.
He said nothing else. I obviously had no chance of finding out exactly where he was, not that I really wanted to know what a Gray Site was, anyway.
“What will happen to him?” Danielle asked.
Director Isadoris shrugged. His shoulders were so massive that the shrug looked like two tectonic plates grinding together. I half expected an earthquake to follow.
“It’s hard to say. We have confirmed through DNA tests that he is in fact Medlock’s son. And I have to admit, I’m a little embarrassed that Medlock had a son while he was stationed here in Minnow who we weren’t even aware of. But it may give us a tactical edge that we haven’t had yet, of course depending on how much Medlock actually values his son. It’s certainly a complicated situation if nothing else. As of right now, his mom and legal father, Dr. Gulley, think he was picked up by a park ranger in the Black Hills after trying to purposefully run away from home while on the trip and is currently being treated at a mental hospital in South Dakota. His mother, surprisingly, did not question the situation or seem to care that much. She’s apparently a very busy woman. Keeping up that facade in the long term will prove difficult, but it’s something we’ve had to do many times before, so we’ll manage.”
“What about Phil, did he, uh, make it or whatever?” I asked.
Director Isadoris shook his head slowly.
“Oh,” I said. “What about any of the guards at Snaketown? Can we find out where Medlock is from them? Or if anyone within the Agency besides Phil has been turned?”
We’d told Director Isadoris everything we’d found out that night about the plan and Medlock’s involvement before they brought us back to the field trip group. He hadn’t seemed particularly surprised by any of it.
“Dead men tell no tales, so to speak,” Director Isadoris said. “And all the survivors got away, unfortunately. That said, we have a few leads from examining the few materials left behind at Snaketown and inside their getaway vehicle.”
Danielle and I waited for him to elaborate. When it became clear to him that we were waiting for more information, he eventually did provide it. Sort of.
“You understand,” he started, “that I have to be careful how much I share. For national-security purposes, of course. That said, given how much you’ve already done for us, and in light of the circumstances and the need to try to be better about keeping our agents informed, I will say that we do have several leads to follow regarding Mule Medlock’s whereabouts. And, as for other potentially turned agents, a few names have been identified, yes. Along with the revelation that Medlock has at least one more spy operating within your school. Another student spy.”
“Really?” I asked, stunned. “There’s another enemy agent operating inside my school?”
Director Isadoris nodded slowly. “And we may have to ask for your help again in identifying who it is. But don’t worry about that just yet, at least not until we’re able to gather more information.”
“One thing that keeps bothering me is,” I said, “even after blackmailing you, Phil said Medlock’s plan was to release the virus anyway. Why would he do that? How could he benefit from a near-global catastrophe?”
“Look, we’re getting into some deep water now,” Director Isadoris said, “so I’m going to have to end this conversation here. But let me assure you that Mr. Medlock remains a very active and real threat to this Agency and this country. And we fully intend to stay on top of the possible threats he may or may not be behind.”
“That’s it, then, no more questions?” I said.
“I’m sorry, Carson, no,” he said. “But there is one more thing. Danielle, in light of your excellent service to this Agency, we’d like to offer you the opportunity to be added to our nonofficial list of agents, right alongside Agent Zero. Is this something you’d be interested in?”
Danielle took a lot longer than I expected to reply. And her answer was also not what I thought it would be, considering she was usually the responsible one of our group.
“Of course!” she said with a grin.
“In that case, your new codename is Atlas,” Director Isadoris said. “Welcome aboard
, Agent Atlas.”
MONDAY MORNING AT SCHOOL, I EXPECTED THINGS TO JUST go back to normal. And they did. In their own way. I guess. Because, you see, for me a normal school day usually involved spending time in Mr. Gomez’s office getting yelled at. And when a hand gripped the back of my neck almost immediately after I entered the building that morning, it seemed that that’s precisely where my day was headed.
I looked behind me.
Mr. Gomez scowled. “My office, Mr. Fender, now!”
He said nothing as he marched me down to his office, never taking his hand off my neck. He wasn’t gripping it painfully hard, but there was definitely enough muscle behind it to know that it’d be best for me to not resist him and just go along with it.
He sat me down and then took his own seat across the desk from me. Mr. Gomez spent several seconds just glaring at me before saying anything.
“Does signing a contract mean anything to you, Carson?” he asked. “Anything at all?”
I’d actually completely forgotten about that thing. You know, with the whole climbing-a-mountain, infiltrating-a-secret-Teddy-Roosevelt-science-lab, almost-getting-imploded, breaking-into-an-enemy-agent-lair, almost-getting-shot-and-falling-to-my-death-several-times, facing-down-a-roomful-of-poisonous-snakes, taking-out-an-armed-baddie-with-said-snakes, getting-in-a-high-speed-car-chase, getting-flanked-by-an-armed-psycho-in-a-bear-den, watching-a-bear-maul-a-man, and then tracking-down-a-deadly-virus-that-would-have-onset-the-apocalypse-thing, I sort of had forgotten about that little disciplinary contract I’d signed.
“Um—”
“Apparently nothing,” he said. “Your actions have clearly said as much. I let you go on this field trip in good faith, and what do you do?”
“I—”
“You will not talk!” Gomez shouted, pointing a finger at me. “It’s my turn now. That was a rhetorical question. You’d know what that means if you ever bothered to do your homework. What you do is you disappear not once, but twice from the group for hours at a time. And you take a good student down with you!”
I assumed he was referring to Danielle here. If only he knew that she delighted in the pranks as much as I did. Not that I’d ever rat her out. I just sat there and listened.
“You know what this means, right?” he asked.
There was a long pause.
“Right!” he shouted.
“Oh, am I, uh, supposed to actually answer this one?” I asked.
“It means,” he said, his snarl stretching into a smile, “that I finally get to do what I’ve wanted to do since your first week here at my school.”
I slumped forward in my chair and nodded.
“Yes, you signed a contract,” he continued. “You can’t fight it this time.”
I opened my mouth to finally speak. That’s when the door to his office burst open and several men in black suits and sunglasses stormed inside. My first reaction was to duck and hide. After the last two months, I was almost used to this sort of thing.
But they moved right past me and toward Mr. Gomez instead.
“What is the meaning of this?” Gomez shouted.
One of the men held out a badge.
“Mr. Gomez, I’m Agent Loften, National Security Agency,” he said. “You’re under arrest on suspicions of treason, terrorism, espionage, and activities detrimental to US national security.”
My jaw swung open and I looked at Mr. Gomez in shock. He met my stare, but said nothing.
Yeah, just another boring Monday at Erik Hill Middle School.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank all the people that most authors usually thank in this section. Y’all know who you are. And Jeff. I want to thank Jeff. For his vital contribution to this series. The gratitude may be delayed but is still well deserved. Also, it never hurts to give a little shout-out to frosting, for usually being the best part of cake. I’m deeply in love with you, frosting.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHRIS RYLANDER is the author of the Fourth Stall saga. A fan of half-eaten candy canes, earnest failures, and Yahtzee, he lives in Chicago. You can visit him online at www.chrisrylander.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
CREDITS
Cover art © 2015 by Shannon Tindle
Cover design by Tom Forget
COPYRIGHT
Walden Pond Press is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
Walden Pond Press and the skipping stone logo are trademarks and registered trademarks of Walden Media, LLC.
COUNTDOWN ZERO. Copyright © 2015 by Christopher Rylander. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Rylander, Chris.
Countdown Zero / Chris Rylander. — First edition.
pages cm
Summary: “Carson Fender returns to the Agency after receiving a note in his school lunch informing him that Agent Nineteen has three days left to live, and that there might be someone inside the Agency working against them”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-212011-3
EPub Edition © December 2014 ISBN 9780062120137
[1. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 2. Spies—Fiction. 3. Middle schools—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction. 5. Humorous stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.R98147Cou2015
2014022225
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
14 15 16 17 18 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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Countdown Zero Page 20
