The Dino-soarer docked silently on the roof of London’s Natural History Museum and dropped the scaly super-spy and his sidekick down the museum’s chimney. With a FWOOOOMP they were swallowed into metallic tubes, which transported the pair at dizzying speed to the Department’s underground headquarters.
“Spynosaur!” squealed a voice as the tubes deposited Spynosaur and Amber (still clutching the attaché case) in a wide, starkly lit room filled with banks of computers, doodads, thingamabobs and whatchamacallits. A distractingly tall man in a long white coat made a beeline for Spynosaur. He had wild hair that seemed to be trying to escape from his head, and glasses so thick that his eyes looked ready to explode.
“And how is my greatest spy-entific triumph doing today?” continued Dr Newfangle, shining a torch into Spynosaur’s large, lizard eyes. “Still functioning at maximum capacity?”
“I’m fine, Doctor … if that’s what you’re asking,” replied Spynosaur, as Newfangle began measuring his tail.
“And how are your motor functions? Balance? Claw-eye coordination?” Newfangle continued, poking and prodding Spynosaur with various spy-entific implements. “Any odd sensations? Any peculiar appetites?”
Spynosaur shot Amber a look.
“Do put him down, Newfangle,” huffed M11 as she strode into the room, her moustache twitching. She pointed to the case held in Amber’s hand. “The only important thing is to get that under lock and key … and ensure that no one ever gets their hands on it.”
“Out of the question,” said Spynosaur. “We need to crack open the case and find out what’s inside.”
“Open it? Are you mad?” howled M11. “The McGuffin is a super-secret weapon! It could blow us to smithereens!”
“Or shrink us to the size of insects!” added Newfangle.
“Or release a fog that brain-melts us into blank-eyed, slobbbery, face-chewing zombies!” cried Amber.
“No more late night TV for you, poppet,” said her dad. “Look, Ego wanted us to find the McGuffin. He’s playing a game with us … and I don’t like games. Except KerPlunk.”
“Uh, Dad? Something’s … happening,” said Amber.
Everyone turned to see the case rattle and shake in her hands.
“It’s going to blow!” shrieked M11. “Smithereens for everyone!”
“I don’t think so…” said Spynosaur, taking the rattling case from his daughter.
“Spynosaur!” yelled M11. “What are you going to—? Don’t you dare!”
“‘Dare’ is my middle name … I changed it from ‘Simon’,” said Spynosaur – and sank his teeth into the lock with a
