3 The Spy Who Totally Had a Crush on Me Page 6

  “ You know full well I was referring to the Attorney General of the United States. You’ re attempting to change the subject and distract me, hoping I’ ll forget I told you about my U.S Marshal’ s badge and no doubt planning someway to acquire it for one of your future escapades. I can assure you, there is very little chance of you finding any of my badges, so let’ s focus our attention on more pertinent matters, shall we?”

  Well la di da. Except of course Mr. Kim was totally right about everything. I really wanted a U.S Marshal’ s badge now. In the worst way. Another project for another day.

  We waited for what felt like hours, until finally a doctor came out of the OR.

  “ Your friend is very lucky,” he said. “ The cut on his hand took thirty eight stitches, but the stab wound wasn’ t as bad as it looked. The knife hit his hip bone, and didn’ t hit any vital organs.”

  “ What about his teeth?” I asked.

  The doctor looked confused. “ His teeth?”

  “ Yes, he had perfect teeth before the incident, they weren’ t damaged were they?” I tried to keep the concern out of my voice.

  “ I’ m a thoracic surgeon not a dentist,” the doctor said grumpily, “ but his teeth look fine to me.”

  Mr. Kim interrupted. “ Thank you doctor. How soon may we see him.” And after that Mr. Michael Rinteau had no chance going up against Mr. Kim.

  Once he was out of the recovery room, and released from the hospital a few days later, he was enrolled at Blackthorn. Mr. Kim really didn’ t give him much of an option. He told Rinteau he was distressed to learn of his involvement in two violent incidents so close together. Perhaps a change of scenery was needed. He would hope Mr. Rinteau would consider coming to Blackthorn Academy otherwise he would have to involve the authorities to insure his welfare. And that would be most unfortunate but he could take not other action in good conscience.

  Undoubtedly these authorities would take a dim view of Mr. Rinteau’ s situation and he would likely be remanded to a youth home or foster care facility, if one could be found. Otherwise he may be held in Juvenile detention as a material witness to an attempted kidnapping. Also, given his lack of a permanent address, and fact Booker and his associates were intent on doing him harm, it really wasn’ t safe for him to continue on his current life path.

  When Mr. Kim really got going , he threw around a lot of big words like ‘ remanded’ and ‘ youth facility’ and ‘ material witness.’ It was quite amazing to watch actually. Rinteau never stood a chance once Mr. Kim worked up to a full head of steam. Look at me as an example.

  He offered Rinteau, a scholarship at Blackthorn Academy, which he could accept for one month. (The old ‘ just give it month, if you don’ t like it, then you can leave trick.’ Ha! As if.) At the end of one month, if Mr. Rinteau was still not convinced attending Blackthorn was in his best interests, Mr. Kim would be happy to make arrangements with a state agency to secure him a reputable foster home and see to it he was enrolled in the public school of his choice. It was the least Mr. Kim could do in light of Mr. Rinteau’ s kindness to his students. Rinteau saw the writing on the wall and agreed to the one month trial. Probably he was just tired from Mr. Kim talking so much. I always thought these serious, martial arts types were supposed to be quiet all the time so that they could reflect their thoughts inward and all that other stuff. Not Mr. Kim. He was President of the Chatterbox Club.

  Rinteau took a room down the hall from Alex and Brent. He didn’ t have a roommate yet, there was an uneven number of male students in their grade level. He walked around a little gingerly for the first couple of weeks but he healed quickly and appeared to take to Blackthorn much easier than I did. Compared to living on the streets, my guess is Blackthorn would have to be way better.

  The big drama of course was Alex’ s reaction. Pilar, Brent and tried our best to make Rinteau feel welcome, but Alex would not thaw at all. He wasn’ t outright rude to Michael, but he was distant and whenever he spotted us with Rinteau he went in the other direction. If he came into the cafeteria and ‘ new kid’ as Alex referred to him, was at our table Alex sat somewhere else.

  One lunch hour Alex came bopping in and saw the four of us at a table in the corner. He’ d started in our direction but when he laid eyes on Rinteau, he made an abrupt turn and stalked across the cafeteria and sat with a couple of other kids. He kept his back to us and attacked his food like he had thirty seconds left before the world ended and he would never be fed again. His arms moved back and forth in a blur as he shoveled it in.

  Rinteau of course saw Alex make the detour and he knew why.

  “ I see that Axel is being his usually friendly self,” he said.

  “ Why do you do that? You know that his name is Alex,” I said. The friction between the two of them bothered me for some reason. Not enough to distract me from the second oatmeal butterscotch cookie I was eating at the time. I want my friends to get along, but Mrs. Clausen’ s oatmeal butterscotch cookies are really, really good. I have my priorities.

  “ Why do I do what?” he said. He smiled when he said it. That smile. Devastating.

  “ You know. Make fun of him all the time. You could try extending the olive branch. Maybe reach out to him. You never know, you might become friends,” I said.

  “ Me and Alan? Friends?” He snorted.

  “ Alex,” I said, “ and yes. Face it. Alex takes a while to warm up to people. Heck, I’ ve been here four months now and he doesn’ t even like me. Yet. If you maybe talked to him, told him a little about yourself, he might chill out,” I said. There. That’ s me, Rachel Buchanan bringing people together. Maybe I should have my own talk show.

  “ Yeah, and wouldn’ t that be sweet, me and Axel all buddy, buddy,” he snorted again. “ Save it little sister, he and me ain’ t simpatico. But I don’ t want to get in the way of your friendship. I’ ll just start hanging elsewhere,” he said.

  No! Don’ t do that! Don’ t take the devastating smile and the perfect teeth elsewhere! Keep them here! Where I can enjoy them!

  “ I don’ t think that’ s necessary. Look, just give him time. He’ ll work out whatever is bugging him eventually. Underneath the macho-bluster, Alex is actually a good guy.” Did I really just say that?

  Pilar stared at me with her mouth open. I’ d actually said something nice about Alex in front of her.

  “ You think?” Rinteau looked at me. “ Well I gotta tell you, I ain’ t seen it. So I’ m gonna have to take your word on that one. But hey, if you like me so much, I’ ll make sure I stick around. I wouldn’ t want you to miss me.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me when he said it.

  It is impossible to describe the amount of blushing I did at that moment. Imagine the brightest, most highly waxed and polished bright red fire engine that you’ ve ever seen and you still wouldn’ t have an inkling of what my face looked like. Oh boy. And another thing. Why is it always so dang warm in the cafeteria? What are they doing? Trying to melt steel or something? Is there a welding class here I don’ t know about?

  Pilar was chuckling. Rinteau seemed pretty pleased with himself. Brent’ s face held this weird look that was a cross between concern and puzzlement. Or it could have been his normal look for all I know. His expression so rarely changes.

  It was time for a snappy, face saving comeback. Except I didn’ t have one! I desperately flipped through my mental file folders of snappy zingers and one liners. Or even a two-liner. I had nothing.

  “ Well, I certainly wouldn’ t miss you. Don’ t think much of yourself do you?” I said. Oy. If I were walking across a floor covered in thumbtacks, I couldn’ t be anymore lame than I was at that moment.

  Rinteau just chuckled and didn’ t say anything. But it turns out he wasn’ t through tormenting me yet.

  “ So where do the four of you disappear to all the time?” he said.

  She covered it well, but just ever so slightly I heard Pilar have a slight intake of breath. Brent’ s facial expression never changed, but his eyes
grew a little brighter.

  “ What do you mean?” I asked. My pulse quickened and it took every bit of concentration to keep my voice from cracking.

  “ Where do the four of you go all the time? Every evening after Tae Kwon Do class you guys disappear. Alex and Brent come back to their rooms and change and then leave. I’ ve never see you two anywhere after you leave the do jang. Not in the library or the rec room. None of the labs. You can’ t be in your rooms all the time,” he said.

  “ Hmmm. Well, I’ m sure we must be somewhere. Maybe you’ re just missing us,” I said feeling a little more under control and less blushier. “ Although Pilar and I do spend a lot of time studying in our room. Pilar has been having some difficulty with her classes this term and I’ ve been trying to help her out. As for Alex and Brent, if I know Alex he’ s making Brent come back to the do jang for extra push ups or to practice breaking cinder blocks with his ear lobes or something,” I said.

  Pilar gave me a grade-A grimace. She’ s a major brainiac who runs circles around me academically. Still, she went along.

  “ Is that right, Brent?” Rinteau asked. “ You guys go back to the do jang, do you?”

  Brent shrugged. “ We… go… different places… and yes the do jang. And around,” he stammered.

  “ Around where?” he pressed. Brent finally got his legs under him, so to speak.

  “ I’ ve been helping Alex a little with Advanced Mic-Elec this semester. We’ re probably on our way to the lab when you see us,” Brent said. Whew. It was good to know Brent would and could lie when necessary. It might become important at some future date in our battle with world wide villainy.

  “ Huh. I’ ve been in the Electronics Lab a lot the past week. I haven’ t seen you guys there once,” he said.

  Rinteau was not one to give in easily. Which was not a good quality in this case.

  “ Well not so much this past week,” Brent said. “ This past week we have been, Alex and I, I mean, having extra class time with Mr. Turner for Advanced Calculus. We’ ve been studying for the AP Calc Test and that’ s really taking up a lot of time.”

  Okay, it came out a little awkward, but it sounded like Brent. And he was so earnest all that time that it would be hard for anyone to not believe him. If you knew him for five minutes you knew he was about the most sincere person ever.

  But it still wasn’ t good enough for Rinteau.

  He picked up his tray and stood at the table for a second. An expression of deep thought came over his face. He looked at me with the devastating smile.

  “ You know that’ s bull, don’ t you princess? You all are up to something. If you don’ t want to clue me in, that’ s fine. But let me warn you, I have ways of finding things out,” he said.

  He wagged his eyebrows at me and turned on his heel and left.

  Chapter Nine— Sort Of Like A Really Cute, Bad Penny

  Rinteau was right. We were up to something. Something big. Well, semi-big. Not exactly on the scale of forging documents, sneaking out of school, scamming a flight to Hawaii and recovering a priceless artifact big, but for us a huge step.

  Mr. Kim was actually training us for a real-life, sanctioned by him, secret mission. Even though we weren’ t officially ‘ Top Floor’ students yet, Mr. Kim had finally given in. We were Top Floor students in our minds at the very least. He knew the four of us were easily his best pupils. We’ d shown initiative and courage, not to mention the ability to think our way out of serious jams. (Of course we… okay… I was the one who got us into the jams in the first place, but I decided not to remind him). Finally, he gave in and commenced training us in Mission Ops. It’ s what he called it. I love the word ‘ ops’ . It sounds so spy-like.

  On the one hand, part of me was a little suspicious because Mr. Kim had been so adamant about us “ not being fully trained” and we had to “ have more seasoning” before we could take part in anything like this. When he explained what we were going to do, it seemed like he caved a little too easy for Mr. Kim. And frankly it had me on alert. It wasn’ t like him to change his mind like this. Or give in without a lecture. This only led me to believe he was holding something back. And really, what’ s new about that?

  But I just had to put that down on my to-do list for later. And my to-do list was getting longer by the day:

  Discover mole in our midst

  Stop Mithras from taking over the world

  Don’ t fail Languages

  Find a way to throw Rinteau off the scent

  Get Criminology notes from Mr. Quinn

  Find out what Mr. Kim is hiding.

  Get nails done. Seriously. Four months since my last mani-pedi!

  My plate was full. But I decided not to worry about some of this because we had an honest to goodness op to get ready for. (I just love saying that! Op, op, op.)

  Mr. Kim uses his Top Floor students in very undangerous and very unlikely to get you killed simple operations most of the time. Say an undercover agent had left some evidence or something in a locker at the bus station. Mr. Kim would have one of his students, maybe dressed up like a Goth, or a burnout, or something, go in and retrieve the info. If the lockers were being watched, it might confuse someone to see a kid going to pick up the package, when they were expecting an adult. Or sometimes Top Floors were used for surveillance. They might hang out in a coffee shop and follow a suspect somewhere and report back to Mr. Kim or which ever FBI agent was assigned to the case. There was nothing really dangerous happening, always plenty of fully trained backup close by, and very little chance for harm to come to anyone, but it was excellent training. As Mr. Kim said, a lot of the spy biz was pretty boring and one needed to learn the basics if one wanted to be good at it.

  He had bigger plans for us. Something that would not only give us a real test to see if we could pull this spy stuff off, but if we were successful, give Mithras a real boil on his… well never mind. But on a mighty sensitive area.

  For the last few weeks Mr. Kim had been having us meet in the Top Floor section of the school after Tae Kwon Do. We’ d stopped practicing in the fake temple for the time being and were working some simulations on another part of the floor. He had decided it was time to make a move in our little cat and mouse game with Mithras. An opportunity had presented itself and Mr. Kim didn’ t feel we could let it pass. Truth be told, I think he knew we were ready.

  We were going to steal the Firehorn.

  It was one of the seven artifacts of Mithras. A very wealthy and reclusive private collector at a huge estate in Los Angeles owned it.

  The woman who owned it was a multi-billionaire by the name of Jennifer Devereaux. She fancied herself a real-life Indiana Jones kind of girl, who liked to travel the world looking for all kinds of antiquities and artifacts. Years ago, she had come across the Firehorn in a cave in England that was full of Roman bling. Swords, shields, armor, gold roman coins and precious gemstones.

  She had given up all of the other treasure to the British government in exchange for being allowed to keep the Firehorn. At first no one knew exactly what it was, but eventually when she had had it appraised and tried to insure it, word got around among people who knew about this stuff. It was the Firehorn of Mithras. The original, just as it was described in the Book of Seraphim. And we were going to steal it from her.

  Devereaux had been offered money for the Firehorn. She wouldn’ t sell it. Mr. Kim said that numerous high level government officials had asked her to surrender the Firehorn in the interests of National Security. No dice. Mr. Kim even went so far as to use his influence with the government to make it so that she couldn’ t get the Firehorn insured. Since she was a gazillionaire, instead of giving it to Smithsonian or something, she just installed the most sophisticated security systems available. Her house was like a… what was the name of that Fort somewhere that was supposed to be really hard to break into? Knocks? Or Knots or something? Whatever it was, her estate was like that. There were armed guards all around. Dogs patrolling the grounds.
Motion and heat sensors everywhere. Unbreakinable.

  Which is exactly why we were going in. Mr. Kim, that sneak, had discovered Devereaux was going to be giving a big party to celebrate her discovery of some rare ceremonial thinga-ma-jiggy she’ d uncovered in Nepal or Indiana or someplace. This party was going to be catered. And the four of us we going to be part of the catering team. The catering company was actually fronted by a west-coast agent in Mr. Kim’ s network. He used it as cover and it was an excellent way to check up on suspected bad guys since they usually threw the most lavish parties. When he needed to, he just added a few agents to the wait staff. Since his staff had such high turnover anyway, no one was the wiser.

  We were going to use the caterer as a means to “ gain egress” into the house. (Mr. Kim always used words and phrases like “ gain egress” instead of just saying “ you’ re going into the house” when we were training. He wanted us to feel more like agents and learn the proper agent lingo. Neat!) We would work the party as members of the wait staff and when the moment arrived, sneak off to the room where the Firehorn was kept, use some nifty little gadgets to bypass the alarms, and execute Operation Switcheroo. (Okay that really wasn’ t the name of this operation. I came up with that on my own).

  Our plan was to replace the Firehorn with an exact duplicate. The Firehorn was a gorgeous thing to behold in the first place. It looked sort of like a small French horn, covered in jewels and very regal looking. Where you’ d have a bell on a real horn, this bell was carved out of gold into the shape of a bull’ s head of course. Mr. Kim had constructed a fake Firehorn, based on drawings, photographs and x-rays made by the British Museum when they authenticated the Firehorn for Ms. Devereaux.

  Mr. Kim was very big on this replacing of the real artifacts with a duplicate plan. He’ d done the same thing with The Book of Seraphim. I wasn’ t so sure this was a good idea. It was fine if you were able to hang onto the real artifact, and not have it stolen out of a vault in your office, but if your original ended up getting swiped, well you were sorta back to square one. Like us.