The Final Curtain (4 page)

The Administration Manager of Spyforce was a man of professionalism and excellence. With his impeccable organisational skills, he was largely responsible for even the smallest detail of Spyforce's anniversary party. Max found him standing beside a fountain of bubbling, warm chocolate. She picked a plump, juicy strawberry, swiped it through the melted chocolate pool and took a bite.

‘Steinberger, is there any chance …' Max noticed something odd about him. His breathing was strained and his fingers gripped a glass of orange juice so tightly it looked as if he'd squeezed the blood from them. His eyes were wide and slightly panic-stricken.

Max sighed. There was only one thing that could turn this man from a fountain of sophistication to someone about to collapse into a gibbering, gasping heap: Frond, the head of the Plantorium, who was standing with a group of agents nearby.

She wore her red rose-shaped glasses, and her normally beehived hair was flowing in a smooth wave over the back of her long black dress.

Steinberger's flower rested in his lapel. It was bright red.

‘Steinberger?' Max tried again.

The strained breathing, glass clasping and the adored staring continued but was now accompanied by a small high-pitched whine.

‘Steinberger?'

Nothing.

‘Great, now I feel smelly
and
invisible. How much better is this night going to get?'

She clicked her fingers in front of his nose. ‘Steinberger?'

‘Ah, Max. How lovely to see you. Where did you appear from?'

‘I've been standing here for awhile.'

‘Well, it's very nice to see …' He pointed at her dress. ‘You seem to have something …'

Steinberger noticed Toby, Linden and Ella shaking their heads at him from across the room and waving their hands in warning. Steinberger withdrew his hand and went back to clasping his glass, only not nearly as tightly as before.

‘So what do you think of our little anniversary party then?'

‘I didn't realise there'd be so many old faces.' Her flower became even darker as she shot a quick look at Ella, who'd gone back to telling a story that had Toby and Linden again doubled-over with laughter.

‘Yes, that is one of the lovelier aspects of this party. It's always good to catch up with old friends.'

‘Mmm …' Max pursed her lips. ‘Speaking of old friends, have you heard anything about Blue lately?'

‘You mean, Theodoran Blue?'

‘It gives me the creeps just hearing his name.'

The redness faded from Steinberger's flower and his face wrinkled into a frown. ‘The last we knew of him is when he fell from the cliffs bordering his Scottish castle.
⁷
There was a concerted effort by spy agencies around the world and Interpol to trace him in the event that he had survived, but they found nothing, so concluded he lost his life at sea. Why do you ask?'

‘I had a dream about him this morning. It was eerie seeing his face again, even if it
was
just in my imagination.'

‘Blue always had the ability to leave a person feeling uneasy but, rest assured, the upgrade to Spyforce's security system has been completed and has undergone a full system check this past week in preparation for the party.' He leant down and smiled in an attempt to banish Max's frown. ‘All we have to do now is enjoy the festivities. Aaah!'

‘Steinby, you old devil.' Ben had crept up and wrapped Steinberger in one of his can't-escape-from-me hugs. ‘You've scrubbed up well tonight. Anyone here you're trying to impress?'

‘Impress? Me? No. The people here are my colleagues and friends. Who would I want to impress?'

‘Who indeed?' Ben raised a curious eyebrow before dunking a strawberry into the chocolate, tossing it in the air and catching it in his mouth.

‘You're looking as handsome as you always do.' Eleanor leant in for a kiss that left Steinberger blushing.

‘Ah, there you all are,' Chief Harrison said. ‘Lovely to squeeze you, as always.' Harrison cringed. ‘Oh, bother it. I mean, of course, that it's lovely to
see
you again. There won't be any squeezing of agents done tonight. Not while I'm in charge.'

Max noticed a bandage tucked under the sleeve of Harrison's jacket. ‘Are you okay, sir?'

‘Oh this?' He held up the injured hand. ‘Why yes, nothing more than a small incident with a welder and an electric toothbrush.'

Next to Max, Harrison was lucky to be alive considering how clumsy he was.

‘But enough about my wrist. It is good of you all
to be here,' Harrison said. ‘How is Francis?'

‘Right now,' Ben said, ‘I'd say he is deliriously happy colliding the nuclei of atoms in Grayson's heavy-ion accelerator.'

‘Ah yes, that would be an enticing prospect.'

‘He would have loved to have been here,' Eleanor added, ‘but give Francis the choice between a party and a lab, and science will always win over sequins.'

‘Plans for the Time and Space Machine going well?' Harrison asked.

‘That's partly why he's in New York,' Ben said as he swallowed another strawberry. ‘We're trying to perfect the process of creating more energy to operate the machine. We fear the energy from the Aurora stone isn't as powerful as we had hoped for time travel.'

‘So it isn't ready to be tested by the agents yet?'

‘Not yet,' Eleanor answered. ‘We've run a few tests, but last week Francis travelled back in time but had trouble returning. We're hoping his work in New York will answer a few questions and enable us to make the machine completely safe.'

‘Well, if there are any scientists in this world who can do it, it's the three of you. And if there is
anything you need from Spyforce, be sure to let Steinberger and I know.'

‘I'll be at your service.' Steinberger raised his glass to Ben and Eleanor.

‘Happy anniversary, everyone.'

Both Steinberger's happy manner and his glass slipped from his fingers at the appearance of Frond. It smashed to the floor, sending a spray of orange juice over the small group's shoes. His flower blushed faint red.

Steinberger and Frond bent down simultaneously to clean up the mess and clashed heads.

‘I'm sorry … I didn't … It seems –'

‘Don't worry, Steinby.' Frond rubbed her forehead. ‘Hardly hurt a bit.'

The wince on her face told Max otherwise as a swarm of waiters swooped in to clean up before scurrying away, leaving the agents standing in slightly damp shoes and a very awkward pause.

‘You're looking very dashing tonight, Steinberger.' Frond broke the silence. ‘Is there someone here you're trying to impress?'

Ben and Harrison swapped wry smiles.

Max rolled her eyes at the sound of breath struggling to escape Steinberger's lungs.

‘Impress? Me? No.'

‘It seems your flower thinks otherwise.' Frond smiled.

‘I … it's … maybe …'

‘It'd be lovely to stay and chat longer,' Harrison looked at his watch, ‘but I'm going to have to borrow Steinberger so we can begin official weedings. Oh blast, of course I mean begin official
proceedings
.'

‘Yes, absolutely sir.' Steinberger managed to complete a whole sentence. ‘If you'll excuse us.' He caught Frond's eye. ‘It's been … how wonderful to … have a fine –'

‘You can finish those sentences later, Steinberger.' Harrison directed him away. ‘For now, we have a party to start.'

Max grabbed a raspberry fruit crush from a passing waiter. ‘He's really got to get over it,' she said.

‘Get over what?' Frond toyed with her diamond necklace and genuinely looked puzzled.

‘Never mind.'

‘I must go too,' Frond said. ‘I'm part of what is happening next.'

Max watched her weave her way to the stage. ‘Steinberger's crush on her is the size of Everest. How can she not know?'

‘Some people don't see love,' Eleanor said. ‘Even when it is right in front of them.'

Max focused on sipping her icy drink but, as she tipped her head back, her eyes landed on a laughing Ella leaning into Linden and messing up his hair. Her flower turned a greenish tinge, and she felt a kind of hunger pain tug at her stomach despite not feeling one bit hungry. Or thirsty. She turned away to find somewhere to put her drink and noticed a black tuxedoed waiter moving in the shadows at the back of the room. Unlike the others, he wasn't on hover shoes and he seemed to slip a small, silver object into his jacket.

An object about the size of a gun.

Harrison and Steinberger stepped onto the stage. The band came to a stop and a thudding sound rebounded around the room as Steinberger tapped the microphone. All eyes except Max's turned to the stage.

Away from the waiter.

And the gun.

‘Secret agents and friends.' Steinberger looked much more in control now that he was away from Frond. He spoke triumphantly into the microphone, ‘Welcome to the 50th anniversary celebrations of Spyforce.'

The room exploded into a storm of applause and whistles.

Steinberger nodded to Professor Quimby, the head inventor at Spyforce, who was positioned just behind the stage. She threw a switch on a remote control. The lights dimmed and the roof, with its jouncing balloons, came alive with the sight and sounds of virtual fireworks. Applause and cheers thundered down like rain.

Max put her drink and flower on a nearby table and kept her eyes trained on the waiter in the flickering lights. The waiter whose hand hadn't moved. It lay there in his jacket. Ready. Waiting.

Max had to think; she had to act now or the future of Spyforce would be in grave danger. But before she could move, the waiter's hand withdrew from his jacket holding a silver corkscrew. He swiftly plunged it into a bottle of wine and opened it for a group of agents standing beside him.

Max laughed to herself. Her dream about Blue had left her nervy so that now she was imagining waiters with guns.

‘Are you okay?' Eleanor asked.

‘Yes, everything's fine.'

Eleanor hugged her niece. Max melted into her aunt's silky layers and rose soap smell. She lost herself in the fuss and colour of the fireworks and looked around the room that bobbed with bright yellow flowers in the hands of agents she'd worked with over her nine missions with Spyforce. There was Suave, Dretch, Irene, Sleek, Dr Finch and Professor Plomb, the Spyforce bomb expert who was so frightened of loud noises that he wore large fluffy earmuffs and felt-bottomed shoes wherever he went. Including tonight.

‘This evening we celebrate a very special occasion,' Steinberger continued after the fireworks had died down. ‘And now, it is my pleasure and privilege to give you the founder and leader of this most esteemed establishment, Chief Reginald Harrison.'

Chief Harrison approached the microphone to the adoring whistles and applause of his agents. He waved his hands to quieten them down.

‘Spyforce has had a proud history,' Harrison began. ‘After its creation by me and my father, Harrison Senior, its success has been down to you. This agency has trained some of the world's most
skilled agents in fighting crime. You put your life on the line in dedication to the Force and to the betterment of this great and, at times, messy world of ours. You work in secrecy, and the world's population knows nothing of what you do to keep them safe. But I count it as my special privilege to know you all.'

Steinberger pulled a hanky from his jacket and wiped a tear from his eye as another round of applause rang through the room.

‘I would like to offer a special thanks to Eleanor and Ben, just two of the many scientists Spyforce works with to create some of the world's most technologically advanced gadgets. Their most important work to date has been the creation of the Time and Space Machine. An invention that, after many years of unwearying research and hard work, has realised the dream of scientists for hundreds of years: the secret of time travel.'

A spotlight fell on Ben, who raised his and Eleanor's hand to meet the applause in a kind of champions' salute, before sweeping Max up in his arms for everyone to see. ‘Never could have done it without this one.'

Max wriggled in Ben's hold and the glare of the light. He paraded her in the air like a proud dad,
making sure the whole room saw her, before lowering her to the floor. She pulled her dress back into shape, relieved when the focus and the spotlight finally turned away from them.

‘The machine isn't quite ready to be handed over to Quimby's lab yet, but it will be very soon,' Harrison continued. ‘And I can't let the night end without a heartfelt and open-armed thank you to the Spyforce chef of chefs, Irene. If you try only one thing tonight, make it the frog legs with wasabi.'

Irene brushed away the raucous cheer that rose into the air.

‘My most humble gratitude also goes to Dr Frond and her team from the Plantorium, whose inquiring minds manage to gently use the plant world to create some of Spyforce's most effective gadgets: sneeze powder, invisibility cream, Knock-Out Spray and, on the commercial side, her anti-sag ointment and buttocks-firming lotion have reached a new high in sales this year.'

More applause was accompanied by a handful of agents demonstrating their youthful anti-sag looks, thanks to Frond.

‘And now I would like to thank Steinberger, my ever-loyal, ever-dedicated Administration
Assistant. The Force and I owe you so much. To my colleague, my confidant, my loyal friend.'

Harrison opened his arms and an almost-weeping Steinberger accepted his chief's hug.

‘Why does it always have to get so emotional?' Max turned to Ben and Eleanor, who were busy dabbing their own hankies to their eyes.

‘Oh boy,' Max sighed.

Harrison and Steinberger separated with tear-streaked cheeks.

‘Now I would like to hand over to Professor Quimby and Dr Frond for a special presentation. These two talented scientists have never, in all my years of knowing them, failed to astonish me with their effluence. Oh
bother
it and
blast
, of course I meant to say astonish me with their
brilliance
.'

Quimby sent a forgiving smile to her boss and took centre stage with Frond. A brief giggle spurted from Steinberger's lips.

‘My fellow secret agents,' Quimby swept an unruly strand of long hair from her face, ‘it is our great pleasure to launch the latest Spyforce gadget to emerge from the combined forces of the lab and the Plantorium.'

The band struck up a drumroll and a rounded platform descended from the roof. On it was a large
object covered by a white sheet. It lowered into the room slowly, importantly. The band stopped when the platform came to rest. The two scientists grabbed the material on either side. Quimby gave Frond a nod and they pulled it back with a flourish.

The room echoed with quiet gasps.

‘You are kidding me. What … is … that?' Max struggled to get the words out.

‘Quimby's new gadget.' Linden and Ella had crept up behind her.

‘There is no way I am going anywhere near that gadget on any mission of mine,' Max said.

‘Oh, I don't know.' Ella twirled a finger into a long curl. ‘I think it's kind of cute.'

‘If you think that's cute, it's definitely time to have your glasses checked.'

Max stared at the platform where a very smug Toby was standing in his black suit, shiny shoes, star-quality sunglasses and microphone headset.

‘Everyone having a good time?' Toby asked, as if he was starring in his own concert, and he got a resounding ‘yes' in reply.

‘Every spy faces insurmountable dangers in the field,' Quimby announced, ‘and needs to be shielded from harm as much as possible, so we have created the ultimate in protective spywear. Mr
Harrison and secret agents, we give you … the Super Suit.'

The band struck up again and Toby stepped onto a transparent blue board. He took out a thumb-sized remote, pressed down and the board immediately began to hover. It slowly lifted above the agents, and he assumed various poses as if he was on a Paris catwalk, complete with self-important swagger and winks at the prettier agents.

‘It comes in a range of fashionable designs and can be equipped according to the needs of each mission. Incorporating the previously created Impact Suit, it has a slim layer of super-concentrated gel capsules that absorb all the impact of a hit or fall. It also acts as an excellent bullet-proof jacket and buoyancy vest.' She slipped into a gleeful smile. ‘But this is much more than an Impact Suit.'

While the audience's attention was focused on Toby floating back onto the stage, a large metal disc marked with a bullseye descended from the ceiling in a corner of the room cordoned off by a roped barrier.

‘It has also been equipped with specially designed, super-slim weapons, such as the laser gun and silent pen bomb. Here before you is a sheet of titanium. Watch the Super Suit in action.'

Toby reached into his pocket and, in a snap, assumed an exaggerated spy pose. He threw an overly smarmy smile into the audience before aiming his laser at the metal target. In seconds, it was sliced down the middle. One half crashed to the floor, the other half dangled by a metal cable. He snapped his pen from his pocket, removed the lid and hurled it at the swinging target like a knife. The pen struck the metal and silently blew it to bits.

The audience of agents murmured impressed
ooohs
and
ahhhs
.

‘The left cuff of the suit,' Frond said, ‘has been equipped with a silk-like substance closely resembling that of the Golden Orb Web Spider, the strongest web of any spider known to science. This substance can act as a very effective net.'

‘And for this part of the show,' Quimby added, ‘we have Marvin to help us out.'

A hatch in the stage floor opened, and a mannequin-like figure dressed in a dinner suit rose from below. Beside him was a thick metal pole with two large round weights on each end.

Linden smiled. ‘It's the robot we saw Quimby working on when she equipped us for our last mission.'

‘He doesn't normally dress this well,' Quimby said, ‘but we thought he should make an effort for tonight's occasion.' There was tittering laughter from the audience. ‘Marvin is still in the design phase, but he already has many talents, including the strength of ten men.'

Quimby operated a remote control. Marvin leant down and lifted the heavy weight with one hand and held it above his head. He tossed it from one hand to the other before holding the weight in front of him and tying it into a large knot.

Quimby accepted the crowd's
ooohs
with a chuffed grin. ‘And now let's see how Marvin does when faced with the Super Suit.'

She nodded at Toby, who held out his wrist Spider-man-style. He pressed the button on the left cuff, and a fine netting flew from his wrist and ensnared Marvin. The robot's arms were pinned against his sides. He struggled to break his way out of the net but, after several minutes of concerted effort, failed to break even one strand. Quimby turned Marvin off by remote.

‘And from the right wrist,' Frond said, ‘we have added our plant-based Knock-Out Spray. But don't worry, we're not going to try that on anyone tonight.'

There was another ripple of laughter from the crowd and a louder guffaw from Steinberger.

‘And finally,' Quimby added, ‘we'd like to indulge in one final demonstration. Are you ready, Toby?'

‘I'm always ready.'

‘
I'm always ready?'
Max repeated. ‘Who does he think he is, James Bond?'

‘I'd have him rescue me if I had the choice.' Ella raised an eyebrow.

‘While you're getting your eyes checked, get them to do a brain scan too.'

‘Oh Max, you're so funny.'

‘It's a real gift.' Max turned to get another chocolate-dipped strawberry when she spied the same waiter with the corkscrew reaching into another pocket of his jacket. Only this time it wasn't a corkscrew he retrieved, but two large guns. He lifted his weapons and aimed them towards the stage.

Max's uneasy feeling had been right. Spyforce
had
been infiltrated. An intruder was about to attack, and she only had seconds to stop him.

‘Everybody get down!' Max's cry coincided with Quimby's call of ‘Fire!'

The instruction triggered a hail of gunfire.

Max leapt forward and, with the full force of
her weight, pushed against the fountain so that it toppled over in a volcanic flow of chocolate and strawberries.

As the waiter struggled to stay upright in the slippery mess, his fingers pressed the triggers. He fired into the air as the partygoers hit the floor and covered their heads. Max dived, sliding to a chocolatey stop beneath a table.

When the shooting stopped, she peeked through her arms to see the waiter on his back, groaning and clutching his head. She smiled to herself before turning to see Toby standing on stage with his hands on his well-dressed hips while Frond, Steinberger, Harrison and Quimby were laid out beside him.

Max scowled. The guns had been directly aimed at Toby, but he was unscathed and seemed to be surrounded by blobs of paint suspended in the air.

‘It's okay everyone, Max just got a little excited,' Toby spoke into his headset. ‘It's safe to get up now.'

When Max looked around, there were splatters of red paint all around the room, on the banners, on the balloons and on a good smattering of guests. All of the mood flowers were either white or beginning to change to an inky black.

Max's head sank into her arms. ‘This isn't going to be good,' she mumbled. Agents slowly lifted themselves from the floor before turning and staring directly at her. Max gathered herself and got to her feet in time to see Linden helping Ella up.

‘Is everyone okay?' Harrison had reached the microphone, his hair ruffled and his suit sprayed with blobs of paint. There was a general murmuring and nodding. When he was sure there were no injuries, he handed the microphone to Quimby.

With her hair falling in escaped tresses around her face, she readjusted the sleeve of her splattered dress. ‘If an agent is in danger of attack, the Super Suit can create a force field with a simple twist of a jacket button.'

Toby offered his best toothpaste-ad smile before knocking on the air in front of him like it was an invisible door. A series of dull thuds rang out.

‘The paint pellets simply coated the force-field and left Toby unharmed … which is more than I can say for our banners and some of you out there.' The mirror balls and balloons above them were covered in red speckles, and the image of the Spyforce globe behind the stage dripped with streaks of paint.