While Amber’s double reluctantly awaited his toast, the real Amber was already speeding down the road on her bicycle. She was just out of sight of her house when a familiar low hum filled the air. The postman cycling towards her waved at Amber, before watching her and her bike suddenly rise up into the air and disappear.
“Woohoo!” cried Amber, as she and her bike were swallowed up inside an almost-invisible aircraft by a powerful gravity beam. She emerged into a garage-sized docking bay and hopped off her bicycle.
“Hi, Dad! So what’s the mission?” Amber asked, crossing the docking bay towards the Dinosoarer’s cockpit.
“Saving the world, of course,” said a low, clipped voice.
Standing before her was a dinosaur. The scaly, green Deinonychus measured a full nine feet from head to tail, with huge claws on his hands and feet, a long, broad head and a wide mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth. He wore a sleek spy-suit, with a silver pistol tucked into a shoulder holster.
Amber threw herself at the dinosaur and hugged him tightly.
“I missed you, too, poppet,” he said, wrapping his deadly claws round her.
“Da-ad, I told you not to call me that,” Amber groaned. “I’m a super secret agent…”
“Super secret agent in training,” corrected her dad. “How’s your mother?”
“OK, I s’pose,” Amber replied with a shrug. “I don’t see her much, what with all this spy stuff – Sergei spends more time with her than I do. Are you sure we can’t just tell her the truth?”
“And admit we’re spies? Out of the question,” replied Spynosaur. “I’ll always love your mother, but she can’t keep a secret to save her life. Do you remember the time you asked her not to tell anyone that you accidentally flushed your pet gerbil down the toilet? It was all over the village by teatime! No, I’m afraid your mum believes that I was a travelling peanut-butter salesman who died in a tragic kite-flying accident. We’re spies, Amber – keeping secrets is what we do.”
“I s’pose,” Amber sighed.
“Good girl,” said Spynosaur. “Now, have you been practising your ninja skills?”
“Every day!” replied Amber, kicking and punching at him furiously.
“Ah, the Hasty Puffer Fish Open Sandwich Drainpipe Attack excellent work, poppet,” said Spynosaur, casually deflecting her blows with his tail.
“Please stop calling me—” Amber began. But she was interrupted by a voice blaring out from the cockpit’s control panel.
“The DEPARTMENT 6 top-secret transmission channel!” Amber cried, as Spynosaur pressed a button on the Dino-soarer’s control panel. A woman’s face appeared on the cockpit viewscreen. She had a neatly cropped bob of greying hair and an impressive moustache.
“M11! Missing me already?” Spynosaur grinned, flashing his sharp teeth.
“Spynosaur, if it were up to me you’d be extinct,” snarled M11. “As far as I’m concerned, your maverick methods and routine recklessness have no place in Department 6. You were more than enough trouble when you were human, but—”
“—But since I continue to save the world on a bi-weekly basis, you’ll let me off,” interrupted Spynosaur, giving Amber a wink.
“Blast it to smithereens, Spynosaur, just pay attention,” M11 sighed. “A week ago, we began intercepting coded messages between high-ranking members of your favourite international crime syndicate.”
“P.O.I.S.O.N.?” hissed Spynosaur. “What are those diabolical do-no-gooders up to now?”
“The P.O.I.S.O.N. bigwigs are planning a meeting to consider the recruitment of a new member,” M11 continued. “None other than your former nemesis, Ergo Ego.”
“Ego’s alive?” Spynosaur growled, clenching his clawed fists. “I thought he was destroyed when you blew up his secret island lair in the Bermuda Triangle after he tied me to a space rocket and fired me into the moon!”
“And after I fought Ego for the brain box that contained your brainwaves,” added Amber proudly.
“You did very well, poppet,” her father noted, before returning to the screen. “Why didn’t you tell me, M11? Why didn’t you assign me the mission in the first place?”
“Because, blast it to smithereens, Spynosaur, I knew you’d make it personal!” snapped M11. “Making things personal is what reckless, rulebook-ignoring mavericks do!”
“Shooting someone into the moon is personal!” growled Amber.
“The point is, we have reason to believe Ego has created some sort of super-secret weapon, known only as the McGuffin,” M11 continued. “He plans to hand the weapon over to P.O.I.S.O.N. in exchange for membership of their guild.”
“He’s been desperate to join that felonious faction for years,” said Spynosaur. “Where is Ego now?”
“That’s the problem – we’ve had your former partner secretly tracking Ego for weeks – but two days ago we lost all contact,” M11 explained.
“Sounds like Danger Monkey needs me to save his tail again,” said Spynosaur.
“Your mission is to locate Danger Monkey and secure the McGuffin,” concluded M11. “Preferably without blowing up everything in sight.”
“Never fear, M11, we’ll find the Department’s prized primate and this weapon of mass mischief – and put a stop to Ergo Ego for good measure,” Spynosaur assured her. “And we’ll be back for Amber’s bedtime.”
“Da-ad,” groaned Amber.