Capture the Flag (15 page)

“ULD. Unit Loading Device.” Snake-Arm pointed to a small vehicle at the end of the hallway. It looked a little like the cart Anna and José had stolen — no, borrowed — earlier. Snake-Arm handed José a small key, groaned, and closed his eyes again.

José held the key as if it were a poisonous caterpillar. “I'm not sure this is going to work,” he said. “That vehicle looks way more complicated than the inside carts, and I don't think —”

“Gimme that.” Henry swiped the key from José's hand. “You guys get ready to load back into the cart. We're going for a ride.”

“Wait!” Snake-Arm's eyes popped open. Wincing, he lifted himself halfway off the ground and wiggled out of his DayGlo orange vest. With a weak arm, he held it up to Henry. “Here. You're a big enough kid. Put this on, and they'll never notice you don't really work here.”

Henry put on the vest, ran to the far end of the hall, hopped into the cart, inserted the key, and turned it. He pressed a few buttons — leave it to Henry to know which ones would do the job — and grinned when the motor rumbled on.

“Just like Sim Airport,” he shouted as the vehicle rumbled down the hall. “Now, this hooks onto the other cart, and away we go. Load up!”

Anna, José, and Sinan piled back inside and tugged Hammurabi and the green duffel bag in after them. Anna pulled down the door, plunging them back into the smelly-dog darkness. They heard the rumbling get closer, then a click, and then their cart lurched forward as Henry towed it out of its parking spot and … somewhere. Anna hoped he knew where he was going.

The cart lurched, went over a bump, and then started picking up speed.

“Henry?” Anna called. “It's kind of fast!”

But he didn't answer. Anna felt Sinan next to her. She took his hand and held on. Hammurabi licked her cheek, and she got a nose full of dog breath.

At least they were on their way somewhere.

And they were going faster by the second.

“Think we'll be there soon?” Anna whispered to José, trying to keep her voice calm. He didn't say anything, but she thought she felt him nod against her shoulder.

Hammurabi whined.

“Shhh … it's okay,” Sinan whispered. “Brave Hammurabi. Brave boy. When we get home, you'll have —”

“Hey!” Anna interrupted. “I think we're finally slowing down!”

Then came a
clunk
, and all four of them lurched toward the back of the cart, smooshing Anna against the wall.

It felt cooler. Cold, even.

Voices drifted through the cracks. Not Henry's voice. Where had he gone?

“Thought we were done loading, Tucker!”

“Nah, hold up, George! Looks like this one's gotta go, too. Start unloading it while I check the plane.”

The door of the cart swung open, and a thick hand grabbed the duffel bag. The bag disappeared, and a man bent over to reach into the cart. His hand was halfway in, probably to grab another suitcase handle, but he pulled it back out and put his hands on his hips.

“What in the devil?”

It was George Malbut, US Airways Baggage, from before.

“Wha — what in the — you kids! Again? How in the devil —”

“You never know what you'll find in the baggage, huh? At least it's not a snake this time.” José climbed out of the cart. “It's a long story, sir, but our parents are on this plane. We need them. And we need to talk with the police.”

George Malbut gaped as Sinan and Anna unfolded their cramped legs and climbed out of the cart. Hammurabi bounded onto the tarmac last, wagging his tail.

“José,” Anna hissed, catching up to him. “We don't have anything to show the police, remember? The camera … We don't have the evidence.”

“Yes, we do.” Henry jumped from the seat of the unit loading device, pulled his SuperGamePrism-5000 from his pocket and held it up. “Right here.”

“Henry, I'm serious. How is your video game supposed to help?”

“Look.” Henry poked at the buttons and held up the game so Anna and José could see. Snickerbottom appeared on the game screen, and his voice came growling out of the speaker.

“I know what you saw before, missy, and you are not going to ruin this for me. You have no idea what I went through to steal that flag. The Star-Spangled Banner is staying right where it is, and I am getting on a plane for Vermont.”

Anna's heart soared like a jet taking off. “That thing has a
video
camera?”

Henry nodded. “I tried to tell you, but stuff kept happening. Back in the baggage room, I was pretty sure Snickerbottom was going to get your camera from you, so I figured I'd make us a backup.”

“Henry!” She felt like hugging him. “You … you deserve, like, twelve extra lives for that!”

Henry grinned. He took off his orange vest and handed it to George Malbut. “Can you give this back to the guy with the tattoo for me? He's back in that hallway with the bags. He told us to talk to the police. And he's hurt, so you should probably get him a doctor, too.”

George held the vest, shaking his head. “I don't know what you kids have been up to, but you're going to talk with the police all right.” George Malbut nodded toward the terminal. Two police cars approached with flashing lights.

Anna looked up at the plane. She scanned the row of faces in the windows, looking for her father, but then realized he'd never get on the plane without her. She did see Snickerbottom, though. Even from way down here, she could tell he was shouting.

“Senator Snickerbottom doesn't look too pleased,” she said, pointing.

“Bet he's not.” Henry held up his GamePrism and grinned.

“Aw, him?” George the baggage handler said. “He's all in a snit because they told him they found some damage to his luggage while they were loading it. Never shoulda told him about it before he got on the plane.”

The police cars turned on their sirens. The red and blue lights flashed bright on the piles of newly cleared snow.

“What kind of damage was it?” José asked over the sirens.

George Malbut snickered. “Apparently, somebody handled the bag a little too rough, and all his shampoo and whatnot came out and spilled all over. Got on everything, I heard. Even his boxer shorts. Musta been a ton of the stuff.” He glanced up at the plane where Senator Snickerbottom scowled from his window. “He does like his hairdo, that one.”

A car door slammed, and a Washington, DC, police officer came toward them. Anna's father stepped out of the passenger seat, and José's father climbed out of the back. Mr. McGilligan held his hands up to the sky, where the sun was finally beginning to burn through gray snow clouds.

“What in the world …?”

Anna's father folded his arms in front of him. “Where on earth …?”

“Dad, I …” Anna didn't know where to begin.

But Henry came through. “We know where the flag is.” He held up his SuperGamePrism-5000. “And we can prove who stole it.”

With a flight that was already more than twenty-four hours late, you'd think the passengers on the plane would have been impatient about another delay. But they understood.

After all, they'd all watched the same TV news report about the flag that Anna and Henry and José had seen in the terminal, just a few minutes after they'd met. They'd watched the news updates all through the day and night, including the ones that reflected on the significance of that American flag. How it had flown over Fort McHenry, through the fog and the smoke, still flying the morning after the British bombing. How Francis Scott Key said he had seen it from the ship in the harbor where he was being held prisoner. How it inspired him to write a song that inspired a nation. How that nation is known as the land of the free and the home of the brave, still today.

So the passengers were patient while police boarded their plane and removed Robert Snickerbottom in handcuffs, along with the skinny security guard who turned out to be Robert's little brother, Earl. They were patient while baggage handlers, working with police, carefully unloaded all of the luggage until they found a large speaker case that belonged to the orchestra Sounds for a Small Planet, and inside that case, the enormous flag frayed and faded with one more small piece missing, but otherwise unharmed. The case was supposed to hold the last of three big speakers that the group had used at the museum performance, but the case had gone missing before the orchestra packed up for the night, so the speaker was packed in a makeshift carton instead.

Thankfully, the passengers could watch satellite television while the plane waited on the runway, so they ate their small bags of pretzels and sipped their Cokes and listened through their headphones as the news anchors pieced together what had happened.

“Good evening,” said a wavy-haired anchorman on the screen. “It has been a stunning day at the airport, where the region's two top news stories — our record-setting blizzard and the theft of the Star-Spangled Banner — came together late this morning in what can only be called an incredible story.”

The TV station cut away to video of Snickerbottom and his brother being led from the plane.

“Look, there I am!” The World's Greatest Grandma nudged her husband, who was dozing over his novel. “See me there, Harold? I'm in the third window, see? You can kind of see my hair….”

The anchorman's voice continued over the video. “Police say presidential candidate Senator Robert Snickerbottom orchestrated the theft of the flag and planned to frame several members of the international orchestra Sounds for a Small Planet, which played at the recent reopening of the Smithsonian Museum of American History. Snickerbottom's brother, Earl, who is now cooperating with the investigation, told NewsChannel Nine that his brother planned the whole theft so that he could recover the flag himself, solving the mystery and appearing as a hero to the American people.”

The video cut to a sound bite from Earl. “Bobby, he always loves being the hero,” Earl told the camera. “He puts that campaign video of him saving that boy and his puppy on TV every chance he gets. Savin' the puppy. Savin' the puppy. S'all we ever heard about at home. Savin' the puppy. Anyhow, he was falling behind that Frumble lady in the polls and got to thinking he needed a bigger way to be a hero. So we went and stole the flag. Didn't go so well, I s'pose.”

The anchorman came back on camera. “We're going to go live now to the Smithsonian, with more on how this could have happened. NewsChannel Nine's Veronica Mays is at the museum. Veronica, what can you tell us?”

“Well, Dave, museum officials are embarrassed that this could happen at all. They're conducting a full review of security procedures, but right now, it looks like the problem comes down to access to restricted areas and security staff. At a news conference just moments ago, Museum Director Erma Emma Jones told us that Snickerbottom and his security team were actually
allowed
in the off-limits flag chamber for a private tour the night of the museum reception.”

Erma Emma Jones appeared on the screen, standing at a microphone with her lips pursed together so tightly, it was a wonder she could speak. But she did. “We are dismayed that such a thing could happen. We have been in the habit of allowing some restricted access to the museum's … ah … privileged guests, though we'll obviously be reviewing that policy now. But yes, we've discovered that Senator Snickerbottom and his security team intentionally sneaked an extra person into what was supposed to be a tour group of four. Though our head curator who led the tour was aware of the fifth guest, he was called out of the flag chamber during the tour to assist with an emergency in the First Ladies exhibit. We believe it's likely that Snickerbottom also had one of his men create that emergency —”

A reporter's voice called out, “What emergency was that?”

“Well,” Ms. Jones said, “a mouse was set loose in the display case holding Michelle Obama's inaugural ball gown. It could have been severely damaged by nibbling, and as I am … not fond of mice, I summoned Mr. Brodie to take care of it. At any rate, we have concluded that during this … interruption … one of Snickerbottom's men hid himself in the chamber until the group was escorted out, and in the confusion, the officer who left with the men believed there were only four of them, as the original list had indicated.”

“Aren't there security cameras?” a reporter asked.

“Well, yes. The guard who was on duty monitoring those cameras has gone missing, along with Snickerbottom's campaign manager, Zeke Skipworth. The police believe the guard was paid to remain quiet while Earl Snickerbottom removed the flag from the chamber in a stolen case belonging to the orchestra, left the building with it, and later made sure that it was slipped in with the rest of the orchestra's baggage. Rest assured, we are conducting a full review of security.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jones,” the reporter said. “And now we have someone who is most happy to see the flag recovered: Maria Sanchez McGilligan, who spent several months restoring this artifact. What do you have to add?”

José's mother appeared on the screen, looking exhausted but relieved. Her silver jaguar earrings glimmered. “I'd just like to say that we're thankful the flag is coming home.”

The anchorman came back on-screen then. “Indeed. And now, the most remarkable part of this story. The heist of the Star-Spangled Banner might still be a mystery if it weren't for a few clever young people who uncovered the plot during their long night at the snowed-in airport. Our crew at the airport joins us now with that part of the story.”

The screen cut to the tippy-boot reporter in a light raincoat, shivering on the windy runway.

“Look, Harold!” The World's Greatest Grandma nudged her husband, waking him up. “There she is! You can see her out the window there with those kids and the police, and there she is on TV!”

“I'm Melinda Gomez, live at the airport,” the woman on the runway said. “I'm here with four special kids who saved the day.” The camera widened out to show Anna, José, Henry, and Sinan. Every once in a while, Hammurabi would jump up on one of the kids so viewers could see him, too. “Tell me, kids, how did you first come to believe the flag might be here at the airport?”

Down on the runway, with the TV lights shining in their faces, Henry looked at José. José looked at Anna. Anna looked at Henry. How had they come to figure out the flag was there? It had started off as such a crazy idea, and yet, they'd all been pulled along in its wake. It was almost as if they were
supposed
to find the flag … as if this kind of detective work was in their blood. And it was. But they couldn't say so now.

“We just had a hunch,” Henry said finally. “And you know, there was nothing else to do all those hours, so we checked it out and it … uh … it was right.”

“Remarkable,” said Melinda Gomez, beaming. “And I understand you were in some sticky situations back there. Were you ever afraid?”

“Nah, never,” Henry said.

“Yes,” said Anna and José at the same time. Anna looked over at Henry. “And he was, too.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of movement and turned to see Snake-Arm being loaded into an ambulance nearby. “Oh! And we actually had some help from —”

But just then, Snake-Arm lifted his head from the stretcher, met her eyes, and raised a finger to his lips.

Anna paused. Of course. The Silver Jaguar Society was still a secret, even if it felt a little bigger, a little more real to her now. “Um … we had help from Hammurabi here.” She gave the dog a pat on the head.

Melinda Gomez laughed and looked into the camera. “Brave kids and a brave dog, if you ask me.” She turned back to the kids. “You four must be pretty close to have worked together so well. How long have you been friends?”

José looked at his watch. “About twenty-six hours. Since yesterday morning.”

“When she stole my electrical outlet,” Henry added, pointing to Anna.

Melinda Gomez put a hand to her ear. “Okay,” she said. “I'm getting word that police have finished questioning Senator Snickerbottom and will be … What's that?” She held her finger to her ear again. “And will be escorting him directly to jail. He's accused of grand theft and conspiracy, and more charges may follow.”

The camera panned to show two police officers leading Snickerbottom away from the terminal and ducking his head down to fit into the backseat of a police car. One of the officers held his cowboy hat. The Tootsie Rolls were gone; all that remained were smears of chocolate dog drool.

“Well, there you have it,” Melinda Gomez said, and then turned to Sinan. “You've been awfully quiet, young man. Anything to add after all this?”

Sinan looked at the microphone for a couple of seconds. “I think that now … how do you say it?” He reached into his back pocket for his sketch pad and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for and smiled. “I am pleased that all this is over, and the fat cat” — Anna nudged him — “I mean, the fat lady … sings.”

The passengers could be heard applauding loudly as the police car carrying Robert Snickerbottom pulled away from the plane. They applauded when Sinan, Henry, José, Anna, and their parents boarded the plane — and again when the announcement came that Hammurabi would be allowed to ride in first class as a pet offering special services.

They clapped once more — loudest of all — when the plane finally taxied to the runway, fired up its engines, and took off for Vermont.