Disruption (8 page)

For a half second, I thought about calling Dad to see if he’d consider bringing me home. But no—he’d be disappointed in me, and I’d probably end up in Alaska. A three-week camp experience was a lot better than a year in Alaska, no matter what happened. Plus, the longer I stood under the shower, the more my curiosity bloomed. Questions piled on top of questions. I cursed myself again for the broken cell phone. If I could call Jason, he would help me figure things out.

It was only Day One, and already I’d been beaten up and nearly blown sky-high.

By the time I’d toweled off and put on clean clothes, I had made two resolutions. First, to do whatever it took to get to the bottom of this place, and second, to devise a plan of escape—a backup plan—just in case this turned out to be a camp of near-death experiences.

Chapter 12

I’d barely taken half a dozen steps out of the shower building when I heard, “Captain Cambridge, sir.”

I turned. A round-faced boy with short blond hair, who was at least six inches shorter than me, stared back. I guessed he was about ten or eleven years old. A boy and a girl, about the same ages, stood a step behind him and had similarly blank expressions.

“It’s, um, Matt,” I said. “You can call me Matt.”

The boy shrugged. “Of course, Captain. I mean Matt.” He gestured to the camp. “I keep forgetting we’re supposed to be getting into the habit of being regular campers. I’ll call you Matt from now on.”

I gave him a look that I hoped said,
What do you want?

“Sorry,” he continued. “My name’s Rob Tendres.” He gestured behind him to his friends. “This is Alexis Greenwood and Duncan Brooks.”

The girl had short, inky-black hair and seashell-white skin. The boy beside her had a shaved head and coffee-colored skin. He also had a scar at least an inch long that ran just beneath his left eye. Neither of them spoke.

“We’re on Team Grizzly,” Rob added. He touched the figure of a bear on his T-shirt as if it were a piece of identification. I must’ve looked confused, because he added, “Your team, sir, I mean, Matt.”

“Right,” I said with a sigh. “I know what team I’m on. It’s wonderful to meet you. But I was nearly blown up a few minutes ago, so if you’ll excuse me . . .” I turned and started to walk away.

“Wait, sir, I mean, Matt.” He caught up to me and kept pace. “Could we talk to you for a second?”

I stopped and looked up at the sky. This kid didn’t seem the type to give up. “Fine.” I turned. The trio stood shoulder to shoulder with stiff soldier-like postures. It made my skin crawl to see a bunch of preteens acting with such discipline.

Rob glanced at his two friends, and they gave almost indistinguishable nods. Then he turned back to me and blurted out, “We’d like to be involved in the challenges.”

I thought about almost getting blown up on the soccer field and forced a laugh. “No offense, kid, but you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I know we’re young,” he added quickly, “but we’re a lot more experienced than some of the fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds. We’ve been to a lot of these camps, sir; a lot. We could be really useful. More useful than people give us credit for.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, kid,” I said.

Rob sighed and turned to his friends.

“Sir,” Alexis said, “we just want to be utilized. We’ve been coming to these camps for years, participating in the same training exercises year after year, but we know we won’t be taken seriously until we participate as members of a Delta team.”

“Years?” I asked. “You’re not even teenagers, and you’ve been coming here for years?”

The three of them looked at me as if I’d just said a made-up word.

“Not
here,
” Alexis said hesitantly. “Camps
like
this one.”

Rob nodded toward a group of cabins to his right. “This is the first year for Camp Friendship, sir.”

This was my chance. I had to be smart about it, but if I could get these kids to tell me more about this camp or others like it, I’d be able to figure out what I was involved in better.

I drew in a breath and straightened, doing my best to look captain-like. “All right, tell me what training exercises you’ve done.”

Duncan cleared his throat. “We’ve been mostly limited to the standard ones,” he said. “But we’ve excelled in those.”

I lifted my chin. “And the standard ones would be . . .”

Duncan looked at me like he wasn’t sure I was serious. Then he shrugged and said, “Tactical firearms, principles of dynamic entry, barricade situations, and defensive tactics. Plus, we’ve had our share of the standard surveillance and counter-surveillance. You know, just the standard stuff.”

I wasn’t even sure I knew the words he was saying, let alone what he meant by them. I was once again reminded of the SWAT shows I watched back home on TV and thought for sure some of those terms he’d used were ones I’d heard on those shows.

“It’s just,” Rob continued, “you can’t learn, or
do
the cool stuff, unless you’re on a Delta team. No one considers you until you’re older.”

I considered my team and wondered if that was why none of them had been on Delta teams before. Because they were still pretty young.

“Of course not,” I said, trying my best to sound like I knew what I was talking about. A dozen questions sprang to mind, but I forced them back. I needed to sound like a leader. I didn’t need any rumors about how clueless I was getting back to Dalson or Smith. I decided I could ask them one more thing. “And if I were to ask you who runs this camp, what would you say?”

“Well,” Rob began, “obviously the agency runs—”

Alexis lunged out and punched Rob before he could finish his sentence. He spun around glaring and then seemed to realize he’d said something wrong.

“Idiot,” Alexis muttered. “He was testing you. We’re supposed to be
regular
campers. What would regular campers say?”

Rob turned back to me and sighed. “I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t sure what you were asking.” He cleared his throat. “Camp Friendship is run by a group dedicated to cultural awareness and friendship.”

The Agency?
Which agency was he talking about? The teach-kids-to-avoid-land-mines agency? Or was this some kind of camp run by social services? At least that might explain why all the kids looked so mean, but it wouldn’t explain why the adults tried to blow them up on soccer fields.

I was just about to ask Rob more about the agency when Alexander Bratersky came into view down the path. He had a towel over his shoulder and a few clothes in his hand. I smiled, thinking at least I wasn’t the only one who needed a shower after the soccer ball challenge. But any notion of a smile wilted when I caught a glimpse of the Arctic Fox Delta. He had paint on only one part of his body: his face. It was the color of blood and splattered in such a way it actually looked like war paint; he looked absolutely murderous.

I knew better, of course. He’d obviously been blasted by one of the mines.

He gave me a careful up and down look as he neared, as if he were assessing my level of risk to him. On a scale of one to ten, if I were being really generous about myself, I’d be a risk factor two. And that would only be the case if I landed a couple lucky punches.

Bratersky grunted something as he shoved past and disappeared through the shower doors. I wondered what position he’d been in to get splattered across the face like that, but maybe more importantly, how he had managed the challenge with only one hit.

“Captain,” Rob said, pulling me back into the conversation, “all we’re asking is that you use us. And then tell people you used us.”

They must’ve seen my confusion because Alexis added, “If you win, and people know we helped you, next year we’ll be picked for full Delta team members.”

“Or at least we’ll have a better chance,” Rob added.

Nothing at this place made any sense, and all I wanted to do was call Jason and pick his brain. He’d be able to help me figure it out. A couple hours on his computer and he’d probably know everything there was to know about this place. I cursed Chase for the fight on the bus. Because of him, my cell phone was useless.

“A cell phone,” I said suddenly.

Rob nodded. “They’re supposed to be turned in to the directors before camp. It’s not easy to find one here.”

“But not impossible,” Alexis added.

“So you can get one?” I asked.

Rob nodded. “Some campers keep ’em despite the rules. We could find out who has one and get it for you.”

I nodded. “Great. Do that. Consider it a test.”

“Any team in particular you want it from?” Alexis asked.

I smiled. “Yeah, Squirrel.”

Rob smiled. “I thought you’d say that.”

Clearly word had spread of my fight with Chase on the bus. I decided not to care.

“We do this,” Alexis said, “and you’ll use us for real missions? And you’ll tell people that you used us?” Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer. I drew back. For a little girl, she was sure aggressive.

“Get me a phone,” I said forcefully, “and I’ll think about it.”

I turned again and started off toward the cabin. I expected more badgering, maybe one of them jumping on my ankle and throwing a fit, like any number of kids I’d seen who didn’t get their way, but after a dozen steps in silence, I glanced over my shoulder to see them heading in the opposite direction.

They looked younger from this far, and guilt twisted my gut for taking advantage of such little kids. I really shouldn’t have asked them to steal. I decided to cancel that order the next time I saw them.

There was something else that bothered me. They hadn’t been fazed by my request. It was like stealing from someone on another team was entirely expected. Rylee had said cheating was difficult, not that it wasn’t allowed; maybe the same went for stealing. I made a mental note not to leave anything valuable in my cabin.

Chapter 13

My team was once again huddled on Yaakov’s bed when I walked into the cabin. Their heads snapped up just like they did before. I wasn’t covered in paint this time, but still they eyed me like I had a riddle written on my forehead. Then, one by one, starting with Angie, they smiled. Amara didn’t smile, but he looked undeniably happy.

I glanced in the mirror by the door, thinking a few rogue splatters of paint must’ve survived my shower. My face was clean. I turned back to the group and started toward my bed. “What’s wrong with you guys?”

“We’re impressed,” Juno said. “Very impressed.”

“You did good,” Rylee added.

I dumped my towel and toiletries on my bed. “Impressed with what? That I managed to get all the paint off me? Gee, thanks.”

Angie smirked. “Humble, too. Not a quality I’ve ever seen in a Delta.” She gave an approving nod. “I have to admit, Captain, I thought we’d pulled the short straw getting you as our team leader. Don’t get me wrong, I was going to make the most of it, but even though you had some pretty good scores from previous camps, you just gave off an aura of . . .” She tapped her chin. “What’s the best term to use?”

“Inexperience?” Amara asked.

“Ignorance,” Juno suggested.

My mouth tightened.

“I was going to say fear,” Angie said. “Pure, monster-under-my-bed, blubbering-schoolgirl fear.” She flicked her hand at Amara and Juno. “But theirs work too.”

“Well, I’m thrilled to have somehow proven you wrong. What, pray tell, did I do to redeem myself?”

Yaakov turned his computer so the screen faced me. “We watched the challenge.”

“They recorded it?” I took a couple quick steps across the room to Yaakov’s bed. “And you guys saw it?”

I felt my cheeks heat up as everyone nodded. Then Rylee reached down and pushed a button. A movie played out in half speed. I leaned closer and realized I was watching myself.

On screen I dodged my way across the field toward the soccer ball. Dark objects popped up behind me and blasted cones of paint. To my credit, I didn’t look half bad, and as I continued down the field, I actually started looking pretty athletic.

I booted the soccer ball, and three dark objects popped off the ground. My on-screen self dropped to my stomach. I cringed at what was about to happen. There was no sound on the playback, but in an instant, a burst of flame consumed me. Black smoke lingered for a moment, only to be whisked away by a breeze. An oblong of singed grass surrounded me, and bits and pieces of shrapnel littered the area.

Juno let out an excited whoop
and slapped my back.

I felt strangely detached from what I was seeing. For a moment I even felt sorry for the kid on screen who’d very nearly been killed.

As the feed cut out and the screen darkened, I realized that the vantage point of the filming had been from above.

“Who recorded that?” I asked. “I didn’t see anyone. I sure didn’t notice a helicopter or anything.”

“Very funny,” Yaakov said. “If only there were some kind of high-tech hardware the Agency could put in space. If such a thing were ever invented, I propose we call them
satellites
. It would be the invention of the century, and the Agency could access them for their youth-training protocols.” He rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Satellites?” I said. “Youth-training protocols?”

“Porcupines,” Angie said with a smirk. “Skunks. Waterboarding.” She looked at me with raised eyebrows. “What? Are you the only one who gets to say random words?”

Yaakov and Juno laughed and then abruptly stopped when there was a sharp knock at the door. Yaakov tapped his keyboard, and the screen went blank just as the door swung open. I swallowed as a woman only a couple inches taller than me entered the room. She had her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a thin face with pointy features. One hand held a clipboard at her side, and the other was behind her back. She wore a foul, tight-lipped expression that made me think of an exterminator who’d just discovered a cabin full of rats and was now contemplating the very best way to kill them all.

“Team Grizzly!”