Double Vision (14 page)

Amy pushed him along. “Don't think about all that. Just go with the plan.”

“Your mom dropped you off because it's your night to be with Dad,” I said, coaching him.

“Right. But . . .” Henry tried to turn back to argue, but Amy pushed him toward the entrance.

“You can do this,” I whispered. I was never very good at cheerleading, but I hoped Henry would pull himself together. He looked like my mom did the time Dad and I made her go on Space Mountain at Disney.

I could see Henry's legs shaking as he walked under the glass-cover archway and through the double doors.

“You think he'll be okay?” Amy whispered.

“He looks pretty pale.” And then I remembered something Mom did after we went on Space Mountain. You know what I'm talking about, right?

Amy and I didn't have to wait long. The doors were still open as we watched Henry lurch forward, clutching his stomach.

And he puked. All over the fancy CIA seal on the marble floor.

AS IT TURNS OUT, PUKING ALL OVER CIA
headquarters' floor is the best distraction ever. Amy and I hurried inside and slipped past the guards, who were looking confused and grossed out. Henry was still hunched over. I wondered how many hot dogs he ate in the end. Five? Six?

Amy found the door to a stairwell, and I followed. “Wow, that was easier than I thought,” she said once the door closed behind us. “I hope Henry's okay.”

“He'll be fine. And we're not home free yet.” My voice echoed off the white-painted concrete walls. “We have to hurry and get that Culper Ring book. John Smith told us 355, right?”

Amy started up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

I followed quickly, feeling my backpack bouncing on my back. Once we made it to the third floor, I froze and pointed to the security pad to the right of the door.

We were locked out.

“Now what?” I whispered.

Amy dug inside her pocket. “I kind of figured this might happen. So I borrowed Steve's access card.”

“You mean stole, right?”

“Borrowed,” Amy said with a smile.

She opened the door, and I followed her into the long hall. I was immediately hit by the smell of antiseptic, like a hospital. There were offices without windows to the outside that lined both sides of the corridor, each with a window that looked out to the hall and door. Some were open. “So where's 355?”

“Let's just look.” I hoped we wouldn't run into some CIA guys or ladies. Once you get into a restricted area, you can't exactly claim that you got lost.

We walked the hall, looking inside these boring offices with filing cabinets. Even though the offices were dark, I could see family photos propped on large desks. On the walls, there were calendars and those lame motivational posters in cheap frames.

“It doesn't look very secret in here,” I whispered to Amy.

“What did you expect?” she whispered back.

“I don't know. Maybe metal vault doors, one of those pads than scans your handprint. Black walls and supersonic computers and stuff.”

“Like in the movies.” She snickered, and just then, some guy in a brown suit turned the corner from a hallway to the right we couldn't see. Thankfully, he was busy checking his phone, and we were near an office with an open door.

We ducked inside and hid under a desk. Heard him slowly walk past the doorway. Then he stopped.

Amy and I held our breath.

But then the guy walked on. We both exhaled. I could feel my heart going a gazillion beats a minute.

“Let's hurry,” Amy whispered. “We can't afford to get caught here.”

I was about to think we might be roaming inside Langley forever when Amy pulled my arm. “There!” She pointed to an office with a 355 plaque next to it.

There was only one problem: A big guy in a blue suit was sitting at a desk right in front of the filing cabinets. He had a small stack of blue folders in front of him.

Amy and I backed up. “This is great.” She gritted her teeth. “How on earth are we going to get in there?”

I pulled Amy along and tried the door to another office across the hall. It opened, and we rushed inside.

We found a corner and sat in the darkness. From our spot, we could just see the guy in office 355 through the glass windows. He was twirling his pen as he read something in one of the files.

“You think he can see us?” Amy whispered.

I shook my head. “As long as we keep the lights off, we're fine.”

“So how are we going to get him to leave?”

“I'll see if I can't get Henry's help.” I borrowed Amy's phone and sent Henry a text.

Have them call the guy in 355

“Let's hope Henry can work his magic,” I said. I sat back, watching the guy write something on the paper in front of him.

“This top secret stuff is so exciting.” Amy smiled. “When we lived in North Dakota, Mom would let me sit in on the meetings all the time. I'd even get to read her paperwork, stuff she worked on as a governor, whatever.”

“And then you moved here.” Washington, DC, the city of secrets and locked doors. “Have you thought about telling your mom you miss spending time together? Maybe she could work less or something.”

“She's the president of the United States.”

“Even a president needs a vacation. And time with her family.”

Amy didn't say anything.

I eyed my watch—it had been a couple of minutes since I texted Henry. I had to come up with another plan to get us to the Culper Ring book. “How late do these guys work?”

Amy sighed. “If my mom and her people are any indication, this could take all night.”

“Really?” The thought of hanging out in that dark office all night made me itch.

But then I thought of my gadgets. I took off my backpack and unzipped the main compartment.

“What are you doing?”

I smiled as I pulled out a Ruckus on a Roll. “I thought I'd make us some noise.”

Amy looked confused.

“Just be ready to run.” I moved to the door. Pressed the button on the ball.

And I rolled it as fast as I could.

HENRY'S GADGET WAS A SUCCESS—SIRENS
were blaring so loud, we had to cover our ears. The noise bounced off the walls of the empty building, making my eardrums pop. This Ruckus on a Roll was awesome!

The guy in 355 got up. He looked confused as he moved to the doorway. Then he covered his ears and rushed down the hall.

We hurried to the office.

Amy was way ahead of me. She ran over to the file cabinet to the far left. Thankfully, the bottom drawer was already unlocked. She crouched down and reached behind the open drawer. Smiled. And pulled loose a small, notebook-size book from the back.

Amy carefully pulled off the strips of silver duct tape. She hesitated and handed it to me. “Since it's your mission.”

I tucked it in my coat pocket, and that's when my eyes drifted to the blue files on the desk:

Albert Black

Pandora

I quickly grabbed them and stuffed them under my coat.

Amy was just about to high-five me when the ruckus stopped. The guy had found the ball and turned it off! The dead silence made my ears buzz.

We had to run.

I would like to say my mind was racing, trying to come up with a way to get out of this jam. But it wasn't. My brain just froze, like I was in the middle of a history test.

Luckily, Amy pulled me along. “Let's go!” she whisper-yelled as she stuffed the wads of duct tape in her pocket. But once we peeked around the open door, it was obvious that we weren't going anywhere. The guy was already on his way down the hall. Heading our way, clutching the Ruckus in his palm.

We were trapped.

This was bad.
Really
bad. There was a CIA dude coming our way, and there was no escape.

We both ducked under the desk. But I knew it was only a matter of minutes before the guy would find two stowaway twelve-year-olds.

I heard his feet on the carpet. He stopped in front of the desk. Moved papers around. Banged something down above
my head—maybe the Ruckus on a Roll.

“What the . . . ?” CIA Guy mumbled to himself. “Where are my files?”

We were busted. Toast. CIA target practice, no doubt about it.

I closed my eyes and readied myself for a showdown. But the CIA guy turned on his heels. Grabbed something off the desk—the Ruckus. Then I heard him walk down the hall.

The minute the elevator did its little ding, Amy and I crawled out from under the desk.

“Jeez,” Amy said, laughing. “I about peed my pants.”

I almost did, too, but I wasn't about to admit it. “I think we're about two minutes away from the CIA locking down the whole building. Let's get out of here, huh?”

Henry was still in the lobby, surrounded by grossed-out guards. So when he got a glimpse of Amy and me around the stairway door, he distracted them by pretending to get sick again.

The CIA guy from 355 looked angry, clutching my Ruckus on a Roll in his fist. He was trying to get someone's attention.

Amy and I rushed outside. The cool DC wind actually felt great. We ran to the SUV, where Steve was playing Flying Chickens on his phone. We got in, and Amy made him roll the little divider up.

Henry joined us a minute later. He smiled. “Dude, that was crazy!” His freckles looked like they were going to pop off his face. He buckled his seat belt.

“How'd you get out?” I asked.

Henry shrugged. “I pretended I was going to be sick again and told them my mom was waiting outside. The guards were happy to get rid of me so they could hear about the Ruckus.”

“We have to get out of here—
fast
,” Amy said, looking worried. She knocked on the divider, and Steve took off. “They have cameras all over the place. Once that guy realizes his files are missing, they'll trace it back to us. And to you, Henry.”

Henry swallowed.

And for first daughter Amy, that was really bad news, too. I could just imagine getting grounded at the White House. Maybe they'd make you sit it out in the room in your least favorite color, like the Green Room or whatever.

“Sorry,” I said to Amy, like that would help.

But she smiled. “No sweat. I haven't had this much fun since . . . well, forever.”

“Me too,” Henry said.

“So what's in the book?” Amy asked.

Henry and Amy crowded around me as I pulled the book from my pocket and undid the leather strap. There were drawings—maps, explanations of codes. And pages of numbers with matching names. This book was the key to uncovering the whole Culper Ring.

“Does it say who has the coat?” Henry asked.

“I have no idea,” I said, feeling dizzy reading all the codes and numbers. But then I remembered something Andrea said at the International Spy Museum. “George Washington
was code name Seven-Eleven, right?”

“That's it!” Amy said.

I carefully flipped the brittle pages until I saw the listing for Agent Seven-Eleven. Next to it, someone had written
Bill Sorenson
(
George Washington's home
). “Great, we're back to ol' George again,” I said.

“Maybe Bill is at the White House,” Henry suggested.

Amy shook her head. “George Washington was the only president to
never
live at the White House. It wasn't built yet.”

“So where's his home, then?” Henry asked.

For once, I knew the answer to a history question. It was part of the little bit I'd studied for my history test. “George Washington's home is Mount Vernon.”

I HOPED THE CIA WOULD BE SLOW TO
catch on to our little break-in and borrowing of the files, because Amy had the most to lose. Not only would she wind up grounded in the biggest fortress of America, someone also wanted her dead.

And I worried about Henry—it wouldn't be long before the CIA figured out he was a decoy. Our plan was successful, but maybe it was a bad one anyway.

Since it was already seven o'clock in the evening, we knew we'd have to wait until the next morning to go to Mount Vernon to find Bill Sorenson. Code name Seven-Eleven, the guy with the Dangerous Double.

After Steve drove us back to the Thrifty Suites, I gave Amy the Culper Ring book for safekeeping. We agreed to meet early the next day—with less than twenty-four hours left before the ball, I hoped we'd find the Dangerous Double.

I could tell Henry was working up to ask me something as we walked inside the lobby and I pushed the elevator button.

“You think she thinks I'm dumb?” Henry asked as we got on.

“Who, Amy?” I pushed the number five.

“For not knowing about George Washington not living at the White House and stuff.”

And I realized:
He liked Amy
. So I said, “You did save the day, you know. Getting us into the CIA. First daughters must like that sort of thing.”

Henry smiled. “Yeah. I did do that, didn't I? That kind of makes me a hero.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” The elevator doors opened, and we walked toward Henry's room. Don't tell anyone, but it was nice to be roommates. This city was strange, and someone
had
broken into my room. Hanging out with Henry made everything a little less scary.

Still. There was something wrong. It nagged at the back of my brain. And then I realized: I felt naked.

Not naked in the true sense—I mean, that's just gross. But I felt like I was missing something. And then when Henry opened the door to his room, I figured out what it was. My stomach turned.