CIA Academy of Espionage
Hammond Quadrangle
February 13
0500 hours
Mike, Zoe, and I were handcuffed and marched across campus. Erica was carried, seeing as she was unconscious. Greg Hauser, who was one of the biggest kids at school, slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Professor Simon insisted on handcuffing her anyhow, in case she was merely pretending to be drugged to get everyone to drop their guard. Erica didn’t seem to be pretending, though. She was snoring softly and dreaming about arresting people; I could tell this because she was issuing the Miranda warning in her sleep.
“You have the right to remain silent,” she murmured drowsily. “Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.”
Now that we weren’t blinded by their lights, I got a better look at our captors. I knew every one of them.
They were all fellow students and faculty. There were fifty of them, ranging from first-year students to Coach Macauley. As they had been roused to action in the middle of the night, most had dressed haphazardly. Some had thrown combat boots and Kevlar vests on over pajamas, while others had mismatched outfits of hastily gathered clothing. Nate Mackey’s shirt was on backward and his fly was gaping open. Coach apparently hadn’t been able to find his Kevlar vest, so he’d looted a baseball catcher’s chest protector and mask from the gymnasium. The only thing anyone had in common was the hateful glare they fixed on us. They probably were under orders to not speak to me, but most couldn’t keep themselves from hissing things like “Traitor,” or “You’re a disgrace.”
“Ben isn’t a traitor!” Zoe informed them defiantly. “He’s been set up by SPYDER! And now you’re doing SPYDER’s dirty work for them by capturing us!”
That didn’t convince anyone. It only provoked everyone to start hissing mean things at Zoe, too.
I didn’t see Chip Schacter or Jawa O’Shea anywhere among them and wondered where they could be. I could only hope they were lurking in the shadows somewhere nearby, ready to take everyone else by surprise and rescue us.
“You have the right to an attorney,” Erica said dreamily. “And to have her present while you are being questioned.”
Meanwhile, Mike seemed completely unfazed by our situation. He was walking beside me with his head held high and a broad smile.
“Sorry I got you into this,” I said.
“You didn’t get me into anything,” he replied cheerfully. “I chose to be here. I’m sure you’ll figure out how to get us out of it, though.”
I was at once impressed and disturbed by his confidence. “Uh, Mike . . . We’re in a huge amount of trouble here. There is no way out of it.”
“Well, there won’t be if you’re going to have a negative attitude like that.”
“I’m not being negative. I’m being realistic.”
“No you’re not. Why are you being such a downer about all this?”
I looked around at the several dozen people holding us prisoner, wondering if Mike was no longer occupying the same reality that I was. “Because there’s nothing to be optimistic about!”
“Of course there is. SPYDER tried to kill you.”
I considered that a moment, then asked, “Did you by any chance get hit in the head really hard out on the obstacle course? I’m worried you have brain damage.”
“Nope. My brain is working perfectly.”
“Really? Exactly how is SPYDER trying to kill me a good thing?”
“Think about it. SPYDER tried to kill you. Not Cyrus. Or Erica. Or anyone else. Only you. Why?”
“Um . . . because they don’t like me?”
“Yes!” Mike exclaimed. “But it’s not because of your personality or anything like that.”
“It’s because you’re a threat to them,” Zoe piped up, seeing where Mike was going with this. She suddenly sounded as excited as he did.
“Exactly!” Mike agreed. “You’re the one who always figures out their plans, Ben. You’re the one who thwarts them all the time. SPYDER, the most evil organization on the entire planet, wants you dead because they’re scared of you. Honestly, you shouldn’t be worried about all this. You should be flattered.”
I thought that over. Mike’s logic was more twisted than my small intestine, and yet it made a bizarre kind of sense. Which actually made me feel a tiny bit better. Not a whole lot better, but even that little bit helped.
“If you cannot afford an attorney,” Erica said quietly, “one will be appointed for you.”
“You guys are all full of crap,” Hauser growled. “You’re working for SPYDER. You’re not fooling any of us.”
“No offense, Hauser,” Mike said, “but you’re routinely outwitted by your own breakfast cereal. It doesn’t matter what you believe. It matters what the truth is. And the truth is, if anyone can figure out what SPYDER is really up to right now, it’s Ben.”
“We already know what SPYDER is up to,” I said. “They framed me for killing the president to make me look like a criminal. But no one’s going to believe it without any evidence. . . .” I trailed off, wondering about this. I suddenly had the same feeling that I’d had on the obstacle course, right before confronting the pendulum. The sense that I’d missed something important.
“What’s wrong?” Zoe asked.
“I think Mike’s right,” I said. “There’s more to all this. SPYDER might be plotting something much bigger than merely framing me.”
“Like assassinating the president?” Hauser asked. “ ’Cause that’s pretty big.”
“No,” I said. “It’s something else entirely.”
“What?” Mike asked.
I frowned. “I don’t have the slightest idea.”
“But you know it’s something, right?” Zoe asked. “And like Mike said, you always figure their plots out. So all you have to do is figure out this one, and then the CIA will realize what’s really going on here and let us go.”
I sighed, my confidence deflating once again. I wasn’t so sure the CIA would cop to its mistake that easily—and I was even less sure that I could figure out what SPYDER was plotting. I had almost no information to work from. All I had was a hunch. And even if I wanted to investigate SPYDER further, I couldn’t really do it as a prisoner.
The procession of captors led us into the Nathan Hale Building.
I glanced around the gothic foyer, looking desperately for Chip and Jawa. If they were planning to rescue us, they were running out of time. I paid particular attention to the shadowy nooks and crevices, hoping to see them lurking there.
They weren’t.
Meanwhile, Erica was still snoring away on Hauser’s shoulder.
To the side of the library, two secure steel doors stood open.
I had never seen them open before—although I had known of the room behind them. In fact, I had once prevented SPYDER from blowing it up, along with the heads of every intelligence division in the United States. But I had never been inside it. It turned out to be a large lecture hall, used only on rare occasions when big groups of important people had to gather at the academy.
“Do you understand your rights?” Erica asked sleepily.
A stage stretched across the far end of the lecture hall, where speakers could stand at a podium and address the crowd. However, the podium had been removed, and now there was a table with seven people sitting at it. I couldn’t tell who any of the people were, as blindingly bright lights had been arrayed behind them, leaving them mere silhouettes.
Hundreds of seats faced the stage, but for now only the front row was being used. Two people sat there with their hands cuffed behind their backs.
My heart sank when I saw who it was.
Chip and Jawa.