Forever Begins Tomorrow (16 page)

“Plastic explosive?” asked Rachel incredulously when Roger announced what was in the package.

“An early Christmas present from our Mysterious Friend,” he said, working the material between his hands. “As soon as everybody's ready, I'll set this up and we'll see if we can bust out of here.”

“I knew this joint could never hold us,” said Wendy. She spoke out of the corner of her mouth, in her best gangster imitation.

“Maybe,” said Ray. “Or maybe it's another trap to finish us off for good. What if the whole idea is to get us to blow ourselves up?”

“I can see the tabloids now,” said Trip gloomily. “‘Whiz-Kid Spies Blown to Smithereens: “They were too smart for their own good,” says island security chief.'”

“I always dreamed of making the
National Enquirer,”
said Hap. “Won't Mom be proud?”

“Will you ninnies shut up and move to the back of the bus!” said Roger. He was kneeling at the front of the wall that divided the two cells, tucking the explosive into place. “Everybody ready?” he asked a moment later.

“Go for it, Chief,” said Wendy.

Roger moved back to join the other boys in the corner farthest from the charge. He was still holding some of the plastic explosive in his hand.

“Hey, Roger,” said Ray. “How come you didn't use all of it?”

“We're going to need a little bit to blow our way into the Brain Cell,” he replied. “I think it's time we had a little talk with Black Glove.”

“You mean you know who it is?” cried Trip.

Roger's answer was drowned out by the front of their cell being blown open.

 

The Brain Cell

“Remember what Brody said when he arrested us?” whispered Roger, pressing against the wall of the building so he wouldn't be seen.

“He said a lot,” answered Ray. “Just like always.”

“Yeah, but his big thing this time was ‘national emergency.'”

“So?”

“So that's what this is: a national emergency. So I want you guys to commandeer that Jeep!”

A slow smile spread across Wendy's face. Giving Roger a salute, she said happily, “We'll do it for the U.S. of A.!” Actually, commandeering the Jeep wasn't going to be that difficult. Every security guard in the area had come running at the sound of the explosion. Roger was glad Rachel had taken the time to memorize the building's floor plan; it was her knowledge of the back ways that had gotten them out quickly without running into any of Brody's crew.

Now, with the guards all inside, the Jeep was sitting on its own.

Before Roger could say another word, Hap was under the hood, connecting a pair of wires.

“Let's move!” said Wendy to the others, who were still clinging to the cover of the wall. “He'll have that going any second now!”

Indeed, their mechanical genius had the Jeep's engine purring even as the gang was clambering over its sides.

“This is great!” said Wendy, hopping behind the wheel. “Just like the old days.” Without another word she slammed her foot to the floor and took off for the computer center, driving as if she were trying out for the drag-race championship of the world.

“Don't get carried away,” said Roger. “We're not going through the front door this time.”

Wendy looked crushed. Driving her parents' Volkswagen through the front doors of the computer center had been one of the high points of her life. She had been hoping to relive the episode with the Jeep.

“Why not?” she asked petulantly, swinging the steering wheel to the right as she did.

“Because I don't want those guards all over us,” said Roger, bracing himself against the passenger door. “We're going in the back way. Rachel, you still remember the plans for this place?”

“You bet. You get us
there
, I'll get us
in.”

“Well, ‘there' is ‘here,'” said Wendy, hitting the brakes so hard that Roger's cast slammed painfully against the dash. “If we don't want them to know we're coming, this is the place to stop.”

“Good. Now, just so you won't be too disappointed, do you think you can set this baby up to go through the doors on her own? We need a little diversion.”

“Roger,” said Wendy gratefully, “if I didn't think it was a disgusting habit, I'd kiss you. Just watch me!”

“Sorry, short stuff, I'll be elsewhere. You do the deed, then head for the door on the east side of the building as soon as possible. Ray, stick with her in case she gets in trouble. The rest of you—follow me.”

With that he began a crouching run for the east side of the building; the others followed hard on his heels. As soon as they had rounded the comer and were out of sight of the guards, they dropped the crouch and ran full out.

Roger had just finished tucking a wad of the explosive into the latch area when they heard a crash from the front of the building. The small blast they made blowing open the door merged easily into the sounds of tinkling glass, grinding metal, and angry shouting caused by Wendy's stunt with the Jeep.

“That worked nicely,” said Roger in surprise. “I only wanted to get the guards to the front of the building. I didn't realize we could hide the sound of our entry at the same time.”

“Well, don't waste your breath telling us how wonderful you are,” said Wendy, rushing out of the darkness. “Let's get going.”

“Where's Ray?” asked Trip.

Wendy looked around. “Chips! I thought he was right behind me.”

“Now what do we do?” asked Rachel.

“We move on!” said Roger. “Trip, you're fastest. Run back to the corner and see if you can spot Ray. If he's not there, hightail it back here. We'll leave one person at each corner we turn until we run out. If he hasn't shown up by then, I'll call you all in and he'll be on his own.”

Trip nodded, then raced off to look for Ray.

“All right, let's go,” said Roger. With his sister, Hap, and Wendy following, he plunged into the computer center.

“What's the big rush, anyway?” panted Rachel when they reached the first corner.

Roger didn't answer at once. “Hap, you stay here and wait for Trip. Wendy, you take the next corner, and I'll take the third. As soon as Rachel has to turn again after that, I'll signal. Wendy, you pass it on to Hap. He'll signal Trip and the three of you catch up with us, hopefully bringing Ray, too. Got it?”

They nodded.

“Roger…”

He turned to his sister. “The hurry is, if they catch us, we might not have a chance to get this out in the open.” He paused. “I want to force the enemy's hand. To tell you the truth, I think that may be our only chance to avoid being locked up for life. Besides, I think Black Glove is up to something. There's been too much going on for it to be coincidence.”

“But who do you think it is?” asked Wendy.

Roger spoke a name.

The others stared at him in astonishment.

Trip had returned without finding any sign of the Gamma Ray, making it a worried group of five that approached the door to the Brain Cell.

“I can't believe we're finally here,” whispered Rachel. Like the others, she had been dying to get a look at the restricted area from the time they had learned of its existence.

The entrance to the Brain Cell was through a double set of doors, the first glass, the second solid steel. Dr. Fontana happened to be going in as the gang reached the top of the stairwell that led to the area. They watched as she pressed her hand to a small square at the side of the first door.

“Handprint key device,” said Wendy. “We'll never get past that.”

Dr. Fontana stopped at the next door, the steel one. From the movement of her arm, Roger guessed she was entering a code on a digital keypad. Probably each scientist had a different code; the handprint and the code number had to match before they would be allowed access. A double-tight security system.

“Look,” said Roger. “I'm all for brains and finesse, but right now I'll settle for brute force. Trip, I can't make it down the hall on my belly with this bum arm. Do you think you can plant the last of this stuff for me?”

“My headline in the
National Enquirer
is getting better by the hour,” said Trip. “‘Crazed Teenager Apprehended in Computer Center: Mad Bomber Was Always a Little Strange, Claim Friends.' Mom will love me for this one.”

“Look, you don't have to do it.”

Trip snatched the last of the explosive from Roger's hand. “Are you kidding? I've never had so much fun in my life. Besides, I'll tell Mom
you
made me do it.”

Stretching out on the floor, he began to crawl toward the doors.

Dr. Anthony Phillips, still acting as spokesman for the gang's parents, was standing toe to toe with Dr. Hwa when the explosion shook the room.

The group of angry adults in Dr. Hwa's office had been insulated from the sound of Wendy's crash at the front doors.

Roger's small explosion at the side of the building had been far off and muffled.

But there was no mistaking this one. Something had definitely blown up, and from the sound of things, whatever it was, it was right inside the command center.

After a brief scramble of confusion, the entire group of adults had managed to get out of Dr. Hwa's office and head in the direction of the explosion. A horrified babble broke out when they passed through the shattered, smoking doors and found their children standing in the center of the highly restricted Brain Cell.

“I suppose you're wondering why we've called you together like this,” said Roger calmly.

“What is going on here?” exploded Dr. Hwa, with a force not much less than that which had just knocked down the doors.

“That's what we're here to find out,” said Roger. He looked around the room. Of the original seventeen suspects only Bridget McGrory and Sergeant Brody were missing.

“I must say, this worked out rather conveniently. I thought we might have to send for some of you. I take it you were talking about us?”

“Roger,” said his father warningly.

“Let him go, Dad,” said Rachel, who was dying to find out what her brother was going to say next.

But before Roger could say another word, Sergeant Artemus P. Brody came barging into the room, dragging the Gamma Ray by the arm.

In his other hand the sergeant held a mean-looking pistol.

“All right, you little creeps,” he snarled. “The game is over. Get in a line against that wall. Now!”

 

The Black Glove

“Just what do you think you're doing, Sergeant Brody?” demanded Dr. Phillips.

“My job,” snapped Brody. “Which is to protect this installation from vandals and traitors. These brats of yours seem to fall into both categories—not to mention that they're also guilty of fleeing custody. Okay, you kids. Get ready to march.”

“Actually, I think you should let them stay right where they are,” said a new voice. “I'd like to hear what they have to say for themselves.”

Brody spun around—and found himself face-to-face with a smiling Bridget McGrory.

“You!” he cried, taking a step toward her.

“Stay right there, meatball,” said McGrory. “The game's not over at all. In fact, it's just getting started.”

“I'd do what she says, Sarge,” said Roger. “That thing she's holding is a laser pistol. She could turn you into cold cuts in about thirty seconds flat.”

“I think she'd do it, too,” said Wendy. “Probably even enjoy it. Sliced baloney does have its uses.”

Additional guards had appeared at the doorway. At a quiet suggestion from Bridget McGrory, Brody waved them in and asked them to drop their guns.

“Thanks, friend,” said Roger, once the uproar had died down a bit. He smiled. “I assume we can drop the word
mysterious
now?”

“It was
you
in the water that day!?” cried Wendy. “Wow! Thanks, Bridget. I owe you my plasmagorgeous hide!”

Bridget McGrory shrugged. “It was the least I could do, since it was my note that sent you into that trap to begin with. Luckily I found some information about what that clue really meant while I was going through Dr. Hwa's notes. I got to you as soon as I could.”

“What are you two talking about?” asked the Wonderchild's mother.

“Later, Mom,” said Wendy with a wave of her hand. “It was nothing big.” She was relieved to see Bridget's wink. She didn't really want her parents to know just how wild and woolly everything had gotten at some points. She had a feeling Bridget would keep things quiet.

“Would you like to go first, or shall we?” asked Roger.

“Go ahead,” said Bridget graciously. “I'm dying to know how you put this all together.”

“Wait a minute,” said Dr. Clark. “I want to know by what right you're holding Sergeant Brody at gunpoint.”

Bridget nodded. “Fair question. Other than the fact that he's so stupid it's probably a criminal offense, I have jurisdiction over him. And since I don't trust him to trust
me
on that point—especially since he believed the frame-up that put me behind bars a few days ago—I think I'll just keep him in line through raw terror for a while. It's one of the few things he can understand.”

“Jurisdiction?” asked Brody scornfully.

“National Security Task Force,” said McGrory, pulling a badge from inside her jacket. “Top-level stuff. You guys are under orders to make way for us whenever we see fit.”

“I don't believe it.”

“That's why you've still got this gun pointing at your belly, beef brain. Now be quiet, you're making me nervous. Roger was about to tell me how he figured out Black Glove's identity. You have figured it out, haven't you?” she asked, glancing past Brody to the center of the room where Roger stood waiting.

“Absolutely,” said Roger with a grin. “Actually, we've had the answer right in front of us for the last few months without knowing it—ever since Wendy's mother passed on a little something she thought was just a cute reminder of our silly belief that we had a dangerous spy on Anza-bora.”