Food could make Linden forget anything, including the fact that they weren’t supposed to let on that they knew Irene and Steinberger.
As his feet almost propelled him into Irene’s arms, Max stepped between them. She grabbed two muffins and handed one to Linden with a warning look. ‘Thanks, Professor Irena.’
Linden took a long, slow whiff of the muffin before taking a bite. His eyes drifted closed and his body began to sway. ‘White chocolate chips, macadamia nuts, dark Belgian chocolate and,’ Linden grinned, ‘New Zealand manuka honey.’
‘Perfectly right.’ Irene only just held herself back from giving him a bear-sized hug and instead shook his hand. ‘Always a pleasure to meet a food connoisseur.’
‘Nice to meet you, Steinber … I mean, Professor Steinhoffer.’ After Ben introduced the adults, he said, ‘And, of course, this is Max and Linden.’
‘I recognise you from your gorgeous photo.’ Irene winked at Linden. ‘You’re even better looking in real life.’
‘He certainly takes after his father.’ Everyone turned to Max’s mum, who held her tissue to her mouth as her cheeks glowed bright red. ‘I mean they look alike … the hair … the eyes …’ She searched for someone to take the focus off her. ‘Don’t you think?’
Now it was Max’s mum’s turn to throw a ‘save-me’ smile at her daughter.
‘Don’t tell him he’s good-looking,’ Max said to Irene. ‘His head won’t fit through the door of the plane.’
A woman’s voice floated above them, announcing the boarding of their flight.
‘Have fun over there.’ Linden’s dad pulled his son in for a hug.
‘Please take care of my little girl.’ Max’s mum had begun crying again.
Irene offered her a fresh tissue. ‘They will be treated as if they were our very own.’
‘Take care, you two.’ Ben started to tear-up as well.
‘We will.’ Max had forgotten how soppy goodbyes in her family could get. ‘Like you said, we’re not going away forever.’
‘Forever …’ Her mother let out a fresh wail, and Ben followed with a loud sniff.
‘Speaking of going away,’ Steinberger looked at his watch, ‘there’s the boarding call again. Your French adventure awaits.’
There was a bustle of last-minute hugs and kisses and double hugs, until Steinberger finally managed to coax his young spies away. They stood at the exit leading to the international flight area, waved to Ben, who was being comforted by Eleanor, and Linden’s dad, who was hugging Max’s weeping mother.
‘Okay, that’s enough crying for one day.’ Max wiped great smudges of lipstick from her cheeks and gave her family a final wave. She turned and headed with the others through the sliding glass doors. Inside, lines of passengers were putting bags, coats and trays of wallets and coins through the X-ray machines.
Linden chomped into another muffin Irene had offered him. ‘These are seriously some of your best.’
‘Thank you.’ Irene smiled.
‘I thought you never went on missions.’
‘I don’t, but I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to travel to Australia to pick up my favourite food critic. Chief Harrison needs these for an afternoon tea he is having today with some Japanese sumo wrestlers, and I needed your expert opinion.’
‘Japanese sumo wrestlers?’ Max asked.
‘Yes, his doctor said he should do more sport and he fancies himself as a bit of a wrestler. So he thought he’d get some advice from the experts.’
Two burly security officers appeared before them. Steinberger showed them his Spyforce card before being directed through a special exit.
‘Shouldn’t we be going that way?’ Max pointed to the X-ray machines.
‘There’s no time to take a regular flight, I’m afraid,’ Steinberger answered.
One of the guards entered a secret code into a numbered panel and two thick metal doors slid open. The guards stood aside and waved them through.
‘Where are we going?’ Linden mumbled through the last mouthful of muffin.
‘To a special part of the airport used for top-security arrivals and exits.’ Steinberger led the way down a dimly lit corridor. ‘You know, presidents, rock stars, royal jugglers …’ He grinned cheekily. ‘And people who are in a hurry to start a spy mission.’
Steinberger led them through another security door and onto the tarmac. A compact, dark-windowed transport carrier scurried them away from the towering hulks of internationally-bound planes towards a series of giant hangars. They were dropped inside the farthest one and found themselves in a large, seemingly empty, space.
Empty except for one thing.
A mechanical hum filled the air and a large metal hatch opened before them revealing a doorway-sized view of the inside of a plane. A set of stairs descended.
‘The Invisible Jet.’ Max smiled.
The Hyper Fast Invisible Jet was a Spyforce invention aided by invisibility serum created by Irene in her kitchen. The jet had a pool; a spa; large, comfy chairs and super-powerful computers called Digital Think Amajigs stored in every seat. For Linden, the best thing about the Think Amajig was the unlimited menu.
‘It’s always hard deciding what food to order first.’ Linden brushed a leftover muffin crumb from his jumper.
‘Don’t you ever get full?’ Max asked.
Linden shrugged. ‘It hasn’t happened yet.’
‘Welcome to your super-fast ride to London in the world’s most luxurious, high-tech mode of transport to ever …’
‘Um, Steinby,’ Irene interrupted. ‘We’re in a bit of a hurry.’
‘Yes, yes, of course. Come on, team.’ Steinberger and Irene stood on either side of the jet’s visible stairway.
‘Your ride awaits,’ Irene invited.
Max and Linden hurried up the stairs of the jet and settled into their large, fluffy seats, ready for their mission to Paris. Meanwhile, in the main terminal, Max’s mum sniffed, blew her nose and waved a different, Max-less plane goodbye.
‘Can’t we go another way?’
Max stood before a giant terracotta pot that doubled as a secret elevator inside Spyforce headquarters. It was a high-security way of getting to Chief Harrison’s office, buried deep in the subterranean layers of the agency. ‘Every time I get in one of these, I never know if I’ll ever come out.’
‘I agree with Max …’ Irene said. ‘Last time I took one, I ended up fair on my toosh after a particularly sharp stop. I think I’ll walk, but first I need your palm computers. Quimby needs to tweak them for your mission.’
Max and Linden handed them over before Irene leant in and gave each of them two very sloppy kisses. ‘Be careful in France and thanks for the thumbs-up on the muffins.’ She turned and waved behind her. ‘Tootledoo.’
‘You have no need to worry, Max.’ Steinberger held out his hand and ushered them inside. ‘I know the elevators have played up in the past, but the repairs have been completed. There’ll be no more malfunctions this time, I promise.’
He placed his hand up against the side of the pot. A light glow lit up around his fingers as the identification process was being completed. A few seconds later, the side of the pot slid open.
‘Good morning and welcome,’ the elevator’s greeting system sang. ‘Please enter your destination and enjoy your ride.’
‘Sounds good so far,’ Linden said.
‘That’s because we haven’t given it a chance to stall or stop with half-opened doors or leave dirt clumps all over us.’ Max held on tight to the handrail. With an unsettlingly human sigh, the doors closed and after a soft whir they began their descent.
The elevator gently vibrated beneath them as Max waited for the first sign of malfunction but, after several minutes, the vibrating faded and the elevator stopped.
‘You have arrived at a secure floor.’ The greeting system continued, ‘Before leaving, please look into the mirror to the left of the doors for a complete facial ID.’
‘I’ll go first.
’ Steinberger looked closely into the mirror. ‘It’s part of our new upgraded security system.’ A green line of horizontal light scanned down and up Steinberger’s face before a gentle ping was heard.
‘ID complete,’ the melodious voice sang.
‘Why did you need a new security system?’ Max stood in front of the mirror.
Steinberger’s face clouded over. ‘There was a small security breach around the time you completed your mission in Malta.’1 A ping sounded, ‘ID complete.’
‘A security breach?’ Linden took his turn at the face scanner.
‘Yes.’ Steinberger’s brow wrinkled into a sad frown. ‘Just as the work was completed, an unidentified figure was caught on camera leaving the premises.’
After another ping, the voice again came to life. ‘ID complete. You may enter. Have a nice day and thank you for travelling with us.’
‘They were never caught?’ Max asked.
‘No.’ There was a heavy lilt in Steinberger’s voice. ‘It was as if he just disappeared the moment he was detected.’ He remained quiet for whole seconds before his cheerier self returned. ‘We can’t stay in here all day; we have a mission brief to attend.’
They stepped into a richly carpeted foyer. ‘See, Max, perfectly delivered in one piece.’
‘It is exciting, Steinberger, but elevators around the world do this kind of thing every day. It’s their job.’
‘Oh Max, you’re always so funny.’ Steinberger stepped briskly past the blurred faces of famous agents, including a blurry Ben and Eleanor. He slowed reverently at the glass cabinet containing the original Spyforce Manual. It had once been stolen and threatened to change the very nature of existence with its recipe for a potion that would enable humans to live forever.2 Eventually they stopped at a set of elaborately carved doors leading to Harrison’s office.
Steinberger brushed non-existent lint off his suit, pushed his sculptured hair into place and wiped his hands on a hanky before knocking. ‘Sir,’ Steinberger almost bowed, ‘your agents have arrived.’
‘Ah,’ a voice answered from within. ‘Throw them in. Oh blast, I mean, show them in.’
Max and Linden shared a smile and followed Steinberger into a cluttered room with tall ceilings and long, stained-glass windows leading nowhere. There were lounges piled with cushions, scattered terracotta pots and more blurred paintings of secret agents on the shelves and hanging from walls, crammed alongside books, certificates, awards, thank-you letters from world leaders – and the odd tennis racquet and fishing rod. And in the middle of all the chaos stood a smiling Chief Harrison.
‘Welcome, welcome, welcome.’
‘It’s good to have you back at the Force, sir.’
‘Thank you, Max. It is very good to be back.’ He leant in. ‘Just between you and me, I think it was time. With all that recuperating at home, I’d become quite attached to daytime cooking shows and somehow managed to burn down my kitchen.’
Chief Harrison had been ordered to take a break after an almost fatal encounter with an old enemy, Mr Blue, and his deadly Heart Stopper device.3
Max saw Steinberger’s face droop. His bottom lip trembled at the recollection of almost losing his Spyforce chief but was propped back into its usual sunny disposition by the beeping of his palm computer. ‘Ah, he’s here.’
Steinberger opened the door to a grinning Toby Jennings. One-time school foe of Max and now fellow Spyforce agent.
‘Don’t worry, everyone, now that I am here the world is safe.’
‘From everything except your giant ego.’ Max folded her arms.
Toby turned to Linden. ‘I bet she talks about me all the time when I’m not around.’
Linden nodded. ‘I think it might be true love.’
Max flicked her head away. ‘Between Toby and his mirror, maybe.’
‘I hear you two had a mission in Malta,’ Toby said.4 ‘Can’t have been much fun without me.’
‘I was devastated.’ Max feigned a sad look.
‘You can make it up to Max on this mission.’ Harrison steered the conversation back to the business of spying. ‘For now we need to talk about France.’
Harrison gestured to a lounge and the three spies took a seat. ‘During his last mission, Toby was sent to Paris.’
‘Yeah, some guy with way too much time on his hands planned to flood the city’s underground Metro system with quick-drying cement.’ Toby’s chest inflated. ‘It was a pretty ingenious plot, but he had no chance with me on the case.’
‘Are you sure you don’t have to be back home in Austria for any reason? I’m not sure there’ll be enough room for you and your ego on this case.’
‘Nope.’ Toby smiled. ‘Lucky for you, I’m all yours.’
‘It was the success of that mission,’ Harrison explained, ‘that has led the French Government to ask for our help on another important matter infecting their plum tree.’
Harrison winced. ‘Gosh and blast. Their plum trees are fine. As far as I know. But they need our help on an important matter affecting their country.’ He sat forward and spoke with urgency. ‘A top archaeologist from the Louvre has been kidnapped.’
‘Being one of the most important museums in the world,’ Steinberger added, ‘with one of the most comprehensive collections of objects and artworks from human history, the French government is very sensitive about the loss and it is determined to find the archaeologist before the world finds out.’
‘Yes, and members of the French police are on their way to …’ Harrison was interrupted by his office door flying open. ‘And here they are.’
Two men in dark blue uniforms and stiff-peaked hats entered the room. They stood at attention like a guard of honour while a third, taller man in uniform strode in between them. ‘We ’ave arrived. Ze briefing can begin.’ He turned to two CRISP agents standing at the door behind him. ‘Why are you standing zere? You are not needed anymore.’
The two men from CRISP (Central Response Investigative Safety Patrol), who were responsible for the internal security of the Force, looked to Harrison.
‘If you could wait outside?’ Harrison asked.
The agents closed the door behind them.
‘Commandant Tetu.’ Harrison stood and held out his hand. ‘Welcome to Spyforce.’
‘Chief ’Arrison.’ Commandant Tetu’s jaw hardened and his fists clenched and unclenched, reminding Max of an over-wound toy. ‘I am sure you understand ’ow grave our situation is and zat we must act fast, speedy, rapidement.’
‘Yes. Of course.’ Harrison lowered his hand.
‘Commandant Tetu.’ Steinberger straightened. ‘I would like to introduce you to our fine agents for this mission. Max Remy, Linden Franklin and …’
‘I ’ave no need for names, only action, answers and a quick rezolution.’ Tetu tugged at the cuffs of each sleeve of his jacket. ‘Let me be clear. Ze French police are more zan capable of ’andling zis affair alone, but ze president seems to zink your agency is special and insists on your ’elp.’
‘That’s because Spyforce saved Paris from …’ Max began, but Tetu turned away.
‘Ze screen, Stain-berr-gerr.’
Steinberger grasped the remote. A screen slid into place and a data projector descended from the ceiling.
‘He makes you feel welcome, doesn’t he?’ Toby whispered to Max.
The image of a small man with wire-rimmed glasses and a moustache appeared on the screen. Tetu approached and held out a pointer.
‘Zis is Antoine Marceau. ’E is ze head of ze department of Egyptian Antiquities at the Musée du Louvre.’ His chest puffed. ‘As you know, it is one of ze most beautiful and famous museums in ze world. Ze night before last, ’e was working late in ’is office when zis happened.’
He flicked his pointer at Steinberger to start the video footage.
‘This guy is really starting to annoy me,’ Max mumbled to Linden.
Tetu spun round to her, his left eye twitching. ‘Do you want to work on zis case?’<
br />
‘Yes,’ Max answered. ‘I am a very good spy and your government wants me on this mission. Maybe because you’re not …’
‘Ah, Max? Maybe Commandant Tetu has more he needs to show us.’ Linden’s voice calmed Max down. She crossed her arms and held the stare of the twitching-eyed Tetu. He leant forward, only slightly, his creaseless uniform remaining obediently rigid.
‘You will be quiet until you are invited to speak.’ He stared at her long enough for an uncomfortable silence to wedge itself between them. ‘Ze video.’
Steinberger pressed play. The security camera footage was taken from up high and looked down on a faintly lit corridor dotted by exit lights. There were ancient statues in polished glass cabinets down the middle and crumbled stone carvings displayed on the walls. An older man came into view, before he tripped and fell to the ground.
Whole seconds went by where nothing happened, until he picked himself up and hurried through a lit doorway. A few minutes passed and two dark figures dressed in security uniforms entered the corridor. They waited beside the doorway before rushing into the room, emerging a short time later dragging two slumped bodies. One of the figures stopped, rearranged his sagging human cargo to free one hand and waved at the camera before disappearing around a corner. The image of the empty corridor stared back at them.
Tetu slammed his pointer against Harrison’s desk, making Max jump.
‘Ooever zese arrogant and dangerous people are, zey must be caught.’
Max frowned. ‘Do you have footage of what happened next?’
‘If zere was more footage,’ Tetu snarled, ‘I would ’ave shown you more footage.’ He softened his voice. ‘We are not sure ’ow zey did it, but it seems zis camera was ze only one in zis part of ze Musée zat was working. All ze others were immobilised, tampered wiz, dead.’
Max shrunk at the last word. ‘Oh.’
‘Zere are very few people ’oo know how to disable ze complex security of ze Musée. Zose people are being investigated now, but zo far …’ Tetu’s twitching began anew. ‘We ’ave nozing.’
‘So one of the figures being dragged away is Monsieur Marceau, but who is the other man?’ Linden asked.
The French Code Page 2
