Mission In Malta (5 page)

‘Let me guess, the one left is Alfonzo.'

‘Quite correct, Max,' Harrison answered. ‘We
need you to find out who would want to harm him and why.'

‘Absolutely, sir,' Max replied.

‘After you've been equipped by Quimby, you will leave immediately. At the baggage carousel in Malta's airport, you'll be met by a local agent called Stefan, who will act as your main contact. You will be based in the same hotel as Alfonzo, and we've positioned Spyforce agents on the ground to supply you with essential information as it comes to hand.'

Harrison showed them to the door. ‘Alfonzo is a good friend,' he said softly. ‘Take care that nothing happens to any of you.'

‘We will.' Max offered Harrison a reassuring smile. ‘Can I ask, sir, how you know Alfonzo?'

‘We grew up in the same street. Our families were friends. When Alfonzo's parents died in a car accident, he came to live with us. He thinks I'm being over-protective and bossy, but it's just my way of looking out for him.'

‘Don't worry, Mr Harrison,' Linden added. ‘He'll have Max to boss him around now.'

Max iced Linden with a stare before turning to Mr Harrison. ‘What Linden meant to say was, “He'll be safe with us.”'

Downstairs in the car, Steinberger carefully checked the traffic before treating Max and Linden to another spine-tingling, top-speed journey, only to reluctantly stop at a set of traffic lights.

‘Is there any way you could drive a little less like we're late for an appointment with the end of time?'

‘Sorry, Max,' Steinberger apologised. ‘I didn't realise I was going so fast. I'll take it slow from now on if you'd like.'

‘I'd like.' Max took a steadying breath, released her grip on the armrest and turned to look out the window.

But her steadied breath quickly developed into a strangled panic. ‘Hah … hah … eeh …'

‘Max? Are you okay?' Linden leant forward.

‘That's it,' she managed to wheeze.

‘That's what?' Linden asked.

‘The something bad that was hiding behind the good news.'

‘Sorry?' Steinberger asked.

‘Look.'

Linden followed the line of Max's finger. ‘That's a pretty big “it”.'

Max couldn't answer. She couldn't move or talk. All she could do was stare at the face of her mother, chatting and laughing with Georgio in the
car opposite. Until she stopped laughing and stared at Max with a baffled scowl.

Max slipped down her seat until she was almost strangled by her seatbelt. ‘Drive fast.'

‘Sorry,' Steinberger asked. ‘But I thought …'

‘Drive as fast as you can,' Max gasped, and Steinberger stepped on the accelerator.

The Aston Martin tore away from the lights in a screech of speed.

‘Did she see?' Linden asked.

‘I'm not sure.'

The car swerved in and out of traffic, swinging back and forth, tearing break-neck around tight corners and into narrow streets. When they arrived at the abandoned alleyway, Steinberger drove slowly through the concealed entrance of the Force, taking Max safely away from the brief, confused stare of her mother.

‘No, no, no,' Max mumbled. ‘Do we have to?'

Max, Linden and Steinberger stood before a solid, impenetrable-looking wall.

‘It's the only way into the heart of the Force, Max, and besides,' he nudged her in the side, ‘I know you secretly love the Wall of Goodness.'

‘Ice-cream, I love. Being a spy, I love. The Wall of Goodness, I don't love.'

‘You forgot to include that you love me.' Linden faked looking offended.

Max opened her mouth to answer, but her dream of Linden saying he loved her flashed before her eyes like some giant, oversized, 3D horror movie.

‘It's all right, you don't have to answer,' Linden offered. ‘Sometimes the words of love are hard to speak.'

Steinberger chuckled quietly.

Max's mouth snapped open and shut like a gasping fish. ‘It's not that, it's …' But she had no time to finish as the Wall of Goodness had begun identification mode. Its atoms began to reconfigure as it commenced reading the three agents' level of goodness. It wavered and reformed before reaching out and slowly enveloping them.

‘I might be a while,' Max complained to Linden
and Steinberger as she was jiggled and kneaded by the now gelatinous structure. ‘Okay, Wall. I know your game. You'll let the others through first while I stay here being mauled by you until you've finished playing your little games and eventually decide to spit me out like some old, half-chewed … aaah!'

The three agents were sucked through the wall in one surprising, simultaneous slurp and gently delivered to the other side.

‘… shoe?' Max finished.

‘Looks like you and the Wall have finally become friends,' Steinberger said with victorious, outstretched arms.

‘Must have been all that talk of love,' Linden whispered, sending a Vibratron-like fizz frenzy down Max's spine.

‘Yes, love,' Steinberger nodded.

To escape from anyone else saying the word ‘love', Max tried to move away quickly but tripped over a pile of wooden planks, landed on a paint roller and spun into the air until she thudded with a dull wallop into a giant tray of pink paint.

Max lifted her dripping face out of the tray and saw that Quimby's normally highly ordered and gleaming lab was filled with giant, white-sheeted equipment and workers in overalls hammering,
sawing and drilling. ‘What's going on?' she seethed.

‘It's been ages since the Force had a bit of a spruce-up,' Steinberger explained nervously. ‘And since CRISP decided on the security updates, we thought we'd do a bit of … renovating.'

‘Let me help you.' Linden leant down and offered Max a hand but was met with a silence laced with a pinkish chill. He stood upright again. Even after all this time of knowing Max and having been on seven dangerous missions with her, he'd forgotten that one of the most dangerous things he could do was offer to help her when she'd been slimed.

‘Or I could just stand here and mind my own business.' He flung his hands behind his back.

Eyes flicked around the room, lips were chewed and collars tugged away from necks, as Max squelched her way out of the icing-coloured goo and stood up.

The stony wall of nervousness was broken by Quimby's arrival.

‘I'm here.' Professor Quimby swished towards them. ‘It's always exciting preparing for a new mission and I … oh dear.'

Again silence.

‘Lucky pink is your colour, Max.' Quimby
attempted a cheerful smile, but it did nothing to drive away Max's pink, miserable expression.

Linden and Steinberger simultaneously threw Quimby a warning look and a shake of their heads.

‘It's a plant-and water-based paint that was made in the Plantorium.' Quimby pulled a phone out of her pocket. ‘I'll get someone to meet us and you'll be cleaned up in a jiffy. Oh, and because of all the renovations, you're going to be equipped at my workstation in the testing area.'

Max's shoulders slumped. ‘At the Internal Lake?'

‘Yes, how exciting is that?' Quimby sang.

‘My day just keeps getting better and better,' Max groaned.

Linden and Steinberger followed Quimby as she spoke quietly into her phone. Max stepped out of her mini paint pool, leaving fading pink footprints behind her.

‘As well as being equipped for your mission,' Steinberger turned to his two young spies, ‘we'd like you to try out a new gadget our very clever Quimby has invented. You're going to love it.'

‘Really?' Max wasn't so sure. Quimby was a brilliant inventor but not all her gadgets were something Max got excited about. Like the
Foldaway Inflatable Aqua Buggy. It was a highly advanced invention, but the time she'd driven Max off the boardwalk and into the bottom of the Internal Lake still gave her the creeps.

Quimby unlocked the door to the lake area and led the way past lush trees and gently lapping waters to her workstation, which was crowded with drawers, cupboards and shelves and lined with a large chrome bench displaying Max and Linden's gadgets.

‘As promised, here are your backpacks. Serviced, cleaned and in tiptop condition. Now remember, as well as being fingerprint sensitive so they'll only open for you, they can be unzipped and used as a piece of colour-sensitive camouflage that will blend in with your surroundings and, with these strings on the side, act as a parachute. I've packed them with most of the gadgets for this mission. But I also have these.' She beamed.

‘Excellent! I needed a new pair of trainers.' Linden lifted the legs of his pants to reveal two old and faded shoes.

‘Just in time too.' Max flicked a strand of pink hair out of her face.

‘Oh, I don't know.' Linden smiled. ‘They have a few good years in them yet before I get rid of them.'

‘These aren't ordinary shoes,' Quimby continued. ‘They're Flea-Powered Trainers with Hover and Flipper Capability. Some very clever scientists from Australia uncovered the secret of how fleas can jump up to one hundred times their height from a standing position. It's because of an elastic protein called resilin. It also helps insects fly and has a near-perfect capacity to recover, or “bounce back”, after stress has been applied. It's taken insects millions of years to perfect the protein, and we've taken all their hard work and injected a resilin-based formula into the rubber souls of these shoes. We've also added a tiny generator that can release a strong cushion of air that will automatically activate to soften landings or, when you press this green button on the side, keep you hovering above any surface. Try them on.'

Max warily took hers while Linden quickly slid his feet into the comfy interior of the shoes and laced them up.

‘Now.' Quimby's voice shook with an electrified quiver. ‘Think you can make it to the other side?'

‘Of the lake?' Linden's eyes flew to the far edge. ‘Sure.'

‘Jump as you normally would and the resilin will do the rest.'

‘Are you sure it's not too far?' Max asked a little more loudly than she'd intended. ‘I mean, do you know they'll make it?'

Quimby now wore the grin of possibility she had when testing out a new gadget. ‘I believe so.'

‘But …'

Before Max could say any more, Linden bent his knees, leapt from his standing position and hurtled high above the lake. He curved towards the roof with his arms and legs outstretched like he was impersonating a human cannonball.

Max watched, breathless, until Linden began to swerve down towards the lake. ‘He's going to fall into the water,' she cried, shutting her eyes tight.

‘Aaaah!' the faint cry of Linden sounded from afar. Max opened her eyes in time to see him land with a small bounce on the other side of the lake.

‘Well done, Linden!' Steinberger clapped loudly.

‘I knew he'd do it.' Max shrugged and took a deep breath to control her high-speed heart beat.

‘Your turn, Max,' Steinberger said like he was offering her the keys to a chocolate factory.

‘Me?' Max's fear of heights planted her feet
firmly to the ground where they wanted to stay. ‘I'm okay for now. Thanks. Aaaah!'

Linden suddenly landed beside Max with a rubbery thud. ‘That was excellent, Quimby. One of your best inventions yet, but what's the flipper part?'

‘As Malta is a series of islands, you may find yourself in water on some occasions, so we've installed flippers that will extend from the tips of the shoes when you press the red button on the side.'

The professor held up a small plastic mouthpiece with a nostril pincher. ‘This is a Mini Underwater Snorkel. Just bite down on the mouthpiece, place the nostril pinchers over your nose and breathe with your mouth. You'll have enough air to stay underwater for two hours before it needs to be refilled.'

Quimby held out a yellow packet. ‘In your packs you'll also find a few of these.'

‘Sherbet? I love sherbet.' Linden's mouth watered.

‘Not this one you won't. It looks like sherbet but it's really Sherbet Liquefier. Watch.' Quimby opened the packet and sprinkled white powder onto a spanner. There was a quiet hissing before the spanner melted into a puddle of liquid metal and dripped off her workbench.

‘Oh.' Linden swallowed and turned to Max. ‘Remind me not to eat that.'

‘I'll try,' she scowled, ‘but it's hard keeping you and food apart.'

‘We're actually working on a whole range of food gadgets at the moment that we're making great progress with. They're very easy to conceal because they look like regular food. So far we have Electrically Charged Lasso Licorice, Quick-Drying Glue Custard and Exploding Cakes.'

‘Exploding cakes?' Max asked.

‘And pies,' Quimby added before opening a drawer and pulling out their next gadget.

‘Next, you'll find the Shush Zone for when you need your meetings to be top secret, and here are your MP3s.'

‘For when we want to do a little dancing.'

Quimby smiled at Linden's dance moves while Max rolled her eyes. ‘We're on a mission to protect Alfonzo, not frighten him.'

‘I'll put that last comment down to jealousy.' Linden flicked his fringe, only to have it spring back into its regular wild state.

‘The MP3s have super powerful microphones that act as a bionic ear. Simply put in your earpieces, point the MP3, and you can hear and record voices
up to three hundred metres away. I've also packed the Somniferous Pen and Wake-Up Spray.'

‘A sleeping pen?' Linden asked.

‘Exactly. Simply click the end of the pen and a miniature dart containing a powerful sleep-inducing solution will shoot out. The person on the receiving end will hardly feel it and fall asleep in seconds. They will wake naturally after a few hours, or you can use the Wake-Up Spray, which will revive them almost immediately. The spray can also be used to revive someone who has passed out or feels faint.

‘We've added Swiss army knives, and of course, you have your infrared video/radio watches with built-in torch. Stefan and Alfonzo have also been issued with the same watches so you can be in constant contact with them. And finally, Ben and Eleanor would have told you about the Tracer Bug that can be used in conjunction with the Time and Space Machine.' Quimby opened her hand to reveal a small frost-coloured plastic button. ‘Simply peel off the adhesive backing and secretly attach it to any person you wish to trail.

‘We've arranged for suitcases to be sent to your hotel rooms with an array of formal clothing for the official functions you'll be attending with Alfonzo.
There will also be buoyancy vests that look like regular singlets and can be worn under your clothing in case you end up in water, along with maps and a travel guide to Malta if you need to look like inconspicuous tourists. Oh, and all of the gadgets have been covered by a clear waterproof layer.' Quimby tried not to look directly at Max. ‘Just in case.'

‘Clothes, MP3s, new shoes. This is going to be one good-looking assignment.' Linden nodded. ‘You may have to chase off the girls, Max, if you want me to find time for the mission.'

‘I may have to deflate your ego to make you bearable on this mission.' Max leant against a glass tank and folded her arms across her chest but instantly regretted it as they became glued together by the drying paint. ‘Can we do something about this soon?'

‘I'm sure they'll be here any minute.' Quimby looked at her watch.

‘Aaaah!' Max looked down to see a giant slug as long as her hand, writhing on her shoulder. ‘Get it off! Get it off!'

‘Sorry, Max.' Quimby gently lifted the slug, ‘Harry's a bit hyperactive and has recently discovered the joy of escaping.'

‘You're keeping slugs?' Max moved away from the tank and finally managed to unstick her arms. ‘And since when did they start growing that big?'

‘This is a great grey slug. He's only eight centimetres, but they can grow up to ten. Some of our scientists are working on a top-secret theory relating to their mucous thread and anti-gravity capabilities.'

‘How about this theory? They're disgusting.'

Quimby laughed. ‘But that is part of a slug's charm. In you go, Harry.'

Max backed away from the container as Quimby lowered the giant gastropod into the tank.

‘After our progress with the Flea-Powered Shoes, I've refocused some of our activities in the lab so that we are now taking more of our invention cues from the the animal kingdom. We plan to take our scientific studies far with the help of Alfonzo.' Quimby's smile dissolved slightly. ‘Come back safely. All three of you.'

‘We will,' Linden promised.

Max noticed Steinberger looking at her with eyes widened in silent, fearful panic. ‘What is it?' Max flicked at her clothes. ‘What else is on me?'

‘Steinberger?' Quimby watched as the Administration Manager's face turned the colour of
soggy newspaper and his breathing became laboured.