Mission In Malta

by Deborah Abela

  ‘Are you okay?’ Linden asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Max wheezed through an inhaled breath. ‘I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay? Don’t I look okay?’

  Linden knew what he saw and what was good for his health. ‘No, you look great.’

  ‘It’s like a virtual visual search engine for the entire planet,’ Eleanor whispered. ‘It’s linked to a satellite that transmits to a database at Spyforce Headquarters in London and is updated every few minutes to even include weather and traffic conditions.’

  ‘It’ll be great for future missions,’ Ben said. ‘Like having a giant pair of binoculars where you can see people on the other side of the world. Oh, and Quimby’s been working alongside us and has created a Tracer Bug that can be planted on a person you’d like to trail. Whether it be a fellow agent you need to cover or a suspicious character you’re following, attach the bug and the machine will lead you to them. It’s very cutting edge.’ Ben nodded proudly. ‘Any more of those cheese and chutney sandwiches?’

  Max’s palm computer buzzed in her pocket. ‘It’s Steinberger.’ Steinberger was the ever-efficient, shiny-shoed Administration Manager of Spyforce. ‘They must be ready for us to start the mission.’

  Ben stepped off the podium and walked to a small lounge area complete with bean bags, comfy chairs, a fluffy rug and a coffee table. ‘Bring your computer here, Max, and I can hook it up so we can see Steinby’s message on the big screen.’

  Max followed her uncle. ‘You have a lounge area in the lab?’

  ‘This is where I do some of my best thinking.’

  Ben plugged a cable into the side of Max’s computer while Linden pressed a remote control to lower the projection screen. Steinberger appeared before them, larger than ever.

  ‘Ah, this is a pleasant surprise.’ The Administration Manager’s smile was so wide it was in danger of flying off the edge of his face. ‘I was expecting to have the pleasure of the lovely Max Remy’s company, who I am always very happy to see and chat with – oh, I do look forward to our chats more and more, Max – but to have all four of you there is really just another way of making my already grand day simply perfect.’

  Steinberger liked to talk. A lot.

  His face twisted into a quizzical frown. ‘When was the last time I visited Mindawarra?

  ‘Too long, Steinby.’ Eleanor squelched onto the edge of Linden’s bean bag. ‘If you come to visit, I promise I’ll make you my famous chocolate mud cake with caramel sauce and vanilla cream.’

  ‘You have a date.’ Steinberger wilted ever so slightly. ‘How’s Larry?’

  ‘Never better,’ Ben replied. ‘He’s learning Morse code.’

  ‘That’ll come in handy.’ Steinberger nodded.

  Handy for what? Max winced in confusion.

  ‘I know it’s outdated and technology has given us other ways of communicating, but even now some agents find it comes in handy. Why, when I was young I remember a time when …’

  ‘Do you have any news about the mission, Steinberger?’ Max interrupted.

  ‘Oh, dear me, yes. Forgot myself for a moment there. This is going to be a very special mission. One I’m sure you’re both going to complete without a hitch.’

  He stared back at them importantly from the screen. And said nothing more.

  ‘Well, what is it?’ Max asked.

  ‘I can’t say any more now, I’m afraid, but Mr Harrison is very eager to brief you and would like you to come to Spyforce Headquarters as soon as possible.’

  ‘We’ll be right there.’ Max closed the connection before Steinberger could say any more. She unplugged the cord to the projector and slipped her computer into her backpack.

  Ben had never been a fan of farewells and his bottom lip turned down and began to tremble. ‘But you’ve only just arrived,’ he said softly.

  Max slipped the straps of her pack onto her shoulders and walked over to the podium. ‘I know, but you watch; we’ll be back so soon you’ll wonder whether we were even gone.’ She threw a wide-eyed look at Linden and nodded him over.

  ‘Max is right.’ Linden dragged himself up from his bean bag. ‘The world needs us, Ben, and you wouldn’t want us to say “no” to the world.’

  Max lifted one eyebrow at Linden, who now stood beside her.

  ‘A bit over the top?’ he asked.

  ‘A little.’

  Eleanor gently took Ben’s elbow and kissed him on the cheek as he blinked away a few stray tears. She took the Time and Space Machine and the belt beside it and handed it to Max. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Thanks, Eleanor.’ Max fastened the belt under her shirt and turned to Linden. ‘Ready, partner?’

  Linden slipped on his backpack. ‘Ready.’

  ‘Let’s hold hands for the pact.’ Ben held one hand out to Max and took Eleanor’s with the other.

  ‘Hold hands?’ Stunned dread plastered itself all over Max’s face.

  ‘Yeah. Like we always do,’ Linden replied easily.

  ‘Oh. Yeah. Right.’ But Max did nothing.

  Eleanor, Ben and Linden stared as Max’s mind filled with images of clumsy fish-smelling balcony kisses in Greece.

  ‘Lots of girls would be lining up for the chance to hold my hand,’ Linden whispered. ‘So if you don’t hurry you might miss your chance.’

  Max laughed nervously and rubbed her clammy hands against her pants. Get a grip, she silently scolded herself. It was Linden. The same Linden who made her smile, was always beside her when missions got tough and made her feel good whenever she was down.

  She put the Time and Space Machine on her belt, swept her hair out of her eyes, straightened her shirt and – when she’d run out of other stalling tactics – took Eleanor’s hand before reluctantly reaching out and lightly taking Linden’s.

  ‘If Linden should come to harm or get lost or be in danger in any way,’ she said quickly, ‘I, Max Remy, will do everything I can to help him and bring him to safety.’

  Linden repeated the pact for Max, staring directly in her eyes. Max felt her face light up in a fiery, everyone’s-looking-at-me red. She quickly dropped hands and turned away to see even more tears teetering on the edges of Ben’s eyelashes. She pulled the machine from her belt.

  ‘Travel carefully,’ Ben sniffed.

  ‘We will.’ Max entered the coordinates of Spyforce headquarters in London. An image of the city and the agency appeared before her.

  ‘May the Force be with you,’ Ben’s voice cracked.

  ‘Uh huh.’ Max grabbed Linden’s hand more forcefully this time to avoid Ben’s fast approaching blubber fest.

  ‘And don’t forget to …’

  Max pressed transport and, with a small ffftt sound, she and Linden were on their way to London, England.

  The Time and Space Machine sucked Max and Linden out of Ben and Eleanor’s underground lab in Mindawarra and, fifteen seconds later, had transported them to Spyforce HQ, London. In a flash of fluorescent light, they hovered momentarily in the air before floating gently to the floor of the VART – the Vehicular All-Response Tower.

  Max slowly breathed in the air of the hangar. It was filled with some of the world’s most technologically advanced spy vehicles, specially engineered for manoeuvring through any climate and terrain. Max looked at the place where the Invisible Jet would be if she could see it. She turned towards the Sleek Machine, which was a combination of a motorcycle and a glider that became invisible when it reached a certain oscillation frequency. She felt a quiver of excitement when her eyes landed on a shelf that held the range of foldaway inflatable vehicles they’d used to escape Blue’s thugs deep within the heart of the Amazon Jungle4.

  And when she turned further, she saw Linden only centimetres from her face.

  Until he leant in and came even closer.

  Max lunged backwards. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘There’s a ladybeetle in your hair.’ Linden took the bug gently in his hands and set it free. ‘Must have hitched a ride.’

  ‘Of
course.’ Max laughed nervously as she slipped the machine into its belt. ‘A ladybeetle. What else could it have been? It’s not like you were trying to kiss me or anything.’ Max’s eyes widened in horror. Please tell me I didn’t actually say that, she hoped.

  But the confused look on Linden’s face told her she had.

  ‘Oh look, there’s Steinberger.’ Max straightened up and turned away, but before she could take one step she heard, ‘Wait! Don’t walk there.’

  Max froze with her foot suspended in midair while Steinberger faced her with outstretched hands, bulging eyes and toes clenched in his over-polished shoes.

  ‘Sorry to startle you.’ He quickly approached. ‘I should have warned you. We’ve laid new soundproof, shock-absorbing, vibration-detecting flooring. It needs more time to settle, so we need everyone to keep to the temporary walkways.’

  Steinberger pointed to a higgledy line of wooden planks that stretched into a kind of miniature highway throughout the VART.

  ‘Vibration-detecting flooring. Like the Vibratron?’ Linden asked as Max placed her foot back on the ground.

  ‘Yes.’ Steinberger beamed. ‘CRISP decided we needed a complete update of our security systems, and part of that update includes adding Vibratron cells to each square metre of the VART’s floor.’

  CRISP stood for Central Response Investigative Safety Patrol and were responsible for the internal security of Spyforce.

  ‘Will it still give us that tingling feeling while identifying our vibrations?’ Linden was a big fan of the Vibratron and its fizz frenzy ID process.

  Steinberger leant in conspiratorially. ‘I’ve been told that with the upgrade it’ll be even frenzier.’

  ‘Frenzier?’ Max raised an eyebrow as Linden and Steinberger’s faces collapsed into blissed-out swoons.

  ‘I know it’s not a word, but it suits the feeling perfectly,’ Steinberg shrugged.

  ‘Shouldn’t we go and meet Harrison so he can tell us about the new mission?’ Max had had enough talk of frenzied floors.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Steinberger quivered. ‘You two are going to love this one. I can’t wait until –’

  ‘Max! Linden!’ Professor Quimby, the head inventor of the Force, skipped across the wooden planks in her bright purple trainers and flowing white lab coat.

  ‘Welcome back to Spyforce.’ She pushed a wild strand of hair beneath a red scarf, only to have it fall straight back out. ‘I was hoping to catch you before the briefing to take your packs. We service them every few months or 3000 flying metres, whichever comes first, and yours are both due.’

  Linden and Max took off their packs, otherwise known as Personal Flying Devices or PFDs. ‘Thanks, Quimby.’ Max handed hers over. ‘Will they be ready in time for the mission?’

  ‘Oh, most definitely.’ Quimby hugged the packs to her chest. ‘And I know I can’t say anything about the mission yet, but the location is one of the most romantic places in the world.’

  ‘Romantic?’ Max almost choked. ‘Why would we want romantic? There’s going to be nothing romantic happening there. In fact, the last thing Linden or I want is anything romantic.’

  Quimby, Steinberger and Linden stared at Max. Whole seconds of embarrassed silence passed between them, which was finally broken by Quimby. ‘I’ll be down at the lab.’

  ‘And we’d better be going.’ Steinberger turned and strode along the planks as Max berated herself for having such an over-active mouth.

  ‘Chief Harrison is so looking forward to seeing you again.’

  ‘I bet he’s glad to be back.’ Linden’s guess caused Steinberger to stop abruptly and blaze with happiness.

  ‘Oooph!’ Max hadn’t seen them stop and ran into Linden. ‘Sorry.’ She promptly rebounded away.

  A glint of a joyful tear sparkled in Steinberger’s eye. ‘Nothing could make him happier.’ He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. ‘You’ll have to excuse me. It’s been so emotional not having him here.’

  Max and Linden winced as he blew loud and long into the hanky.

  ‘Let’s go and see him, then.’ Max was keen not to witness any more nose-blowing.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Steinberger sniffed and stuffed his hanky back into his pocket. ‘The car’s over here.’

  ‘The car?’ Linden asked. ‘I thought we were going to Mr Harrison’s office.’

  ‘Oh, the briefing won’t be in his office.’ Steinberger kept up a brisk pace. ‘The International Union of Spies wanted him to have more time off, but Mr Harrison was getting rather bored thinking up new ways to amuse his cat, Muffy, so he and the union came to a compromise that allows him to work from home instead. Here we are.’

  ‘Um … where?’ Max looked up at a black, unremarkable wall.

  ‘The Secret Garage,’ Steinberger said, whispering unnecessarily.

  ‘The Secret Garage?’

  ‘Yes,’ Steinberger breathed. ‘Wait until you see what’s inside.’

  He pulled a remote control from his jacket pocket and aimed it at the wall, which opened like a giant, spinning eye to reveal a range of luxury cars, including a gleaming, silver Aston Martin.

  ‘Is that your car?’ Linden followed Steinberger’s excited steps.

  ‘No, it belongs to the Force. It’s much more incognito for getting around London than our other spy vehicles. Aston Martin had it specially made for us and customised to suit our needs, like …’ He pressed a button on his keychain and two seats folded out from the back. ‘Rear passenger seats. It’s also bulletproof and has spy features installed such as anti-tailing oil licks and steel spikes, as well as built-in rocket thrusters and invisibility shields.’ He breathed a jittery, I’m-in-love sigh. ‘Jump in.’

  The doors opened by remote.

  ‘Are you sure you can drive this thing?’ Max looked sceptically at Steinberger, who looked more like a kindly uncle who should be behind the wheel of nothing more powerful than a shopping trolley.

  He laughed. ‘I was born to drive this baby.’

  Linden slipped eagerly into the back while Max carefully stepped into the front and buckled up.

  Steinberger started the engine. ‘Listen to that purr.’ He slowly drove along the internal passageways of the secret garage, past an array of other cars, from small, inconspicuous sedans to a Porsche and a Ferrari.

  ‘This car can accelerate from zero to one hundred kilometres per hour in just over four seconds.’

  ‘Which we won’t need because we’re going to be incognito. Right?’ Max reminded him.

  ‘Oh, yes. Definitely incognito. Don’t worry, Max, I am a very safe driver.’

  After having their palms scanned by two CRISP agents in a small booth, Steinberger drove onto a large metal platform. A lift flicked into action, carrying the car upwards. When it stopped, a garage door opened automatically and Steinberger inched the car forward into a dismal back alleyway lined with garbage bins, abandoned TVs and washing machines and closed in by looming brick walls covered in graffiti. He adjusted his rearview mirror and carefully checked both ways before tearing into the alley in a scream of speeding rubber.

  ‘All right!’ Linden cried out from the back as Max’s head hit against her seat and she clung on even more tightly to her arm rest.

  Steinberger’s face transformed from calm, in-control manager to world-class Formula One driver. Shops and crowds of people blurred past as Steinberger swept in and out of lanes, caught the end of red lights and sped down cramped, car-lined streets before coming to a sudden stop in front of an expensive-looking block of flats.

  ‘Ten minutes.’ Steinberger looked at his watch. ‘Fastest yet.’

  Max said nothing as she carefully peeled herself from the seat and stepped onto solid ground. After gaining clearance at the entrance of the building and again at Harrison’s door, they found themselves inside a plush yet messy apartment filled with terracotta pots and facing the wide smile and generously bandaged hand of Mr Harrison.

  ‘Hello and welcome to my home.’ Harrison held out his a
rms and ushered his guests in.

  ‘What happened to your hand?’ Linden asked.

  ‘Oh, this?’ Harrison waved his non-injured hand flippantly. ‘It’s nothing, just a simple accident with my rather bad-tempered axolotl. He’s in pet anger management at the moment. But you’re not here to talk about fleas … I mean … me. Have a seat.’ He pointed to a large, comfy lounge and coffee table filled with bowls of strawberries and red lolly snakes. ‘Help yourself. Steinberger?’

  Linden did just that as Steinberger picked up what looked like a snow dome of New York with a flag attached to the side. He opened a false bottom to reveal a miniature control panel and used the flag to enter a code. The wall Max and Linden were facing slowly spun round. It took with it the plasma TV and a bookshelf and replaced it with a world map dotted with red lights lit up at various points around the globe.

  ‘This is a map of the locations of current Spyforce missions,’ Harrison explained. ‘Alex Crane is in Jamaica following a gang of suspected smugglers of rare birds. Toby is in Paris looking for information on a plot to flood the famous underground Metro system with cement, and Suave is in Russia investigating the criminal activities of a suspected hacker group working on a virulent and dangerous computer virus.’

  Max’s face filled with a shimmering smile at what their mission would be.

  ‘And this is the location of your next mission.’ Harrison nodded at Steinberger, who again used the flag to enter information into the bottom of the snow dome and a small red light beamed from the middle of the Mediterranean Sea.

  ‘The beautiful and ancient island of Malta.’

  ‘Malta?’ Max’s face brightened. ‘My dad’s worked on films there.’

  ‘Yes,’ Steinberger added. ‘It’s been the location for some very famous films, like Gladiator, The Count of Monte Cristo and Troy. So very beautiful. The serene countryside, the rocky interior, the sandstone forts and ancient cities, the majestic plunging cliffs and crystalline blue sea, the …’

  ‘Why do I feel like I’m watching a travel documentary?’ Linden threw a strawberry into his mouth.