Get Smart-ish (10 page)

“The carrot cake!”
Shelley realized as she dropped to the floor, too weak to stand.

“Did you make the carrot cake yourself?” Jonathan asked Mrs. Cadogan as he pulled himself from his bed in an attempt to help Shelley.

“No, of course not! We're in the middle of a war! I haven't the rations to make such things!” Mrs. Cadogan answered, referring to the public's limited access to foods such as sugar and flour during the Second World War.

“Then where did the cake come from?” Shelley asked, sprawled out on the floor.

“The cake was delivered this afternoon, addressed to the two of you,” Mrs. Cadogan explained.

“Do you still have the box?” Jonathan asked, his face now pale green.

“I never throw away boxes from Petit Four and Petit More bakery. They're far too pretty,” Mrs. Cadogan said as Jonathan pushed past her and made a mad dash for the bathroom.

Shelley scowled and then weakly banged her fist against the floor. “Nina's favorite bakery.”

OCTOBER 25, 8:01 A.M. BAE HEADQUARTERS. LONDON, ENGLAND

After emptying their bodies of every morsel of carrot cake they had eaten and then sleeping a few hours, Jonathan and Shelley summoned the energy to drag themselves to BAE headquarters to meet with Randolph, Darwin, Oli, and Hattie.

“Nina's warning you to back off,” Darwin said upon hearing of the special delivery Jonathan and Shelley received the night before. “Next time she might try something even more drastic.”

“More drastic than trying to drown us in a medieval pit and poisoning our food?” Shelley said with a scoff. “Is that even possible?”

Darwin raised his eyebrows and then motioned toward Hattie, who was staring at the screen saver on the computer.

“What a glorious day!” Hattie remarked. “We really must go outside. Just look at how the sun is shimmering on the water.”

A light tremor worked its way up Jonathan's body, from his toes to his legs, then his stomach and chest. His lungs tightened; his breathing grew labored. Fear, pure and simple, was taking hold. Jonathan was petrified of losing the minimal intelligence he had. As it was, he was just barely making it through life. What would happen if his intelligence decreased, if he grew even more confused? He would have no choice but to depend on his parents. And as Jonathan learned as a toddler when his parents forgot him in the frozen foods section at 7-Eleven, his mother and father were nice people, but they were not to be relied upon.

“Jonathan? You're looking a bit peaked,” Oli said, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Depending on what Nina used to poison you, it's possible you still have traces in your system, which could make you sick,” Darwin said as he placed a glass of water in front of Jonathan.

“No need to worry, turning green is just one of Jonathan's many party tricks,” Shelley said as she pulled him out of his seat and whispered in his ear, “Get it together, we're spies. We can't turn green at every mention of intellectual annihilation!”

“You always did have a way with words,” Jonathan said before turning to the others. “I think I'll get some air.”

Seconds after Jonathan left, Shelley stood up and announced, “I should probably go with him just in case he gets hit by a bus and someone needs to identify the body.”

OCTOBER 25, 8:26 A.M. STREET. LONDON, ENGLAND

“So you didn't find anything conclusive after trailing Hattie, Oli, and Darwin?” Hammett asked, huddled in the corner of a nearby square with Jonathan, Shelley, and Nurse Maidenkirk.

“Only that Hattie seemed to laugh at Oli's comment, but since we couldn't actually hear what was said, we can't say for sure,” Jonathan responded.

“However, we can say for sure that we were
poisoned
by a cake sent to us from Nina's go-to bakery,” Shelley said before pausing to rub her chin. “The only thing I can't figure out is how she knew carrot cake was our favorite.”

“Maybe it was just a lucky guess?” Jonathan suggested, and then shuddered. “I don't know what she put in that cake, but I have never been so sick in my life.”

“Espionage and poison go together like peanut butter and jelly,” Nurse Maidenkirk piped up. “Did you know that polonium-210 was used to kill an operative right here in London not so long ago? But operatives always have been rather imaginative when it comes to death. Death by poison. Death by allergy. Death by stairs. Death by drowning. Death by—”

“We get the idea,” Hammett interrupted Nurse Maidenkirk before turning his attention to Jonathan and Shelley. “I know you're scared, because darn it, who wouldn't be? You're facing a tough broad. A mean broad. A ruthless broad. Someone willing to do just about anything to get you off her tail.”

Shelley pushed her messy blond hair out of her face and nodded. “That's what we're afraid of.”

“If Nina infects us with LIQ-30, we don't think our parents are equipped to handle it,” Jonathan admitted.

“Don't worry, kid. We take care of our own; on that you have my word,” Hammett stated stoically. “And if you two just want to hit the road, get out of Dodge, I'd understand that too.”

“You mean quit?” Shelley asked.

“Yes. Take a breather from this whole espionage game,” Hammett said. “It's not for everyone.”

“We're not everyone,” Shelley said before pausing. “Or, actually, we kind of are.”

Jonathan shook his head. “We're not quitting. Not now. Not ever. This is all we have in life. And we're not walking away from it, no matter how dangerous.”

“There it is again,” Shelley said, raising her hand for a high five. “The reason this guy's my hero eight percent of the time.”

“You said eleven percent a couple days ago,” Jonathan interjected.

“I did? Don't take it personally. Numbers have never been my thing.”

“You two look awfully tired,” Nurse Maidenkirk said, examining Jonathan's and Shelley's faces. “Not to worry, though. I just so happen to have a vitamin shot ready,” she continued, pulling an impressively long needle from the front pocket of her dress.

“Leave them alone, Maidenkirk! They've got enough problems as it is,” Hammett said, and then popped a new toothpick into his mouth.

“We should get back to headquarters,” Jonathan said as he looked at his watch. “The others are going to start to wonder what happened to us.”

“I believe in you two. If I didn't, I'd pull you from the field, right here, right now,” Hammett said. “But I'm not the one on the front lines. I'm not the one with a target on my back.”

“No,” Jonathan replied. “That's us.”

OCTOBER 25, 9:18 A.M. STREET. LONDON, ENGLAND

“I've spent most of my life wanting to be someone else. Anyone else. I've even imagined climbing into someone else's body, and feeling better with their face, their voice, their brain, their everything,” Jonathan said as he walked back to BAE headquarters with Shelley.

“That's some pretty creepy science fiction stuff,” Shelley said, raising her eyebrows. “But I know what you mean. Until League, I never had a real reason to feel good about myself.”

“We aren't going to turn our backs on the mission, are we?” Jonathan asked.

“No way,” Shelley said as she placed her arm around Jonathan's shoulders. “We've got each other. Nothing can stop us. Except of course for a tsunami or a coma or jail—”

“Shells,” Jonathan interrupted. “Even though you're technically my first and only friend, you're also my best friend.”

“Can I get that in writing?” Shelley asked, and then paused to think. “On second thought, why don't you just send me an e-mail at your earliest convenience. That way I can forward it to the necessary people. Seriously, though, no rush. But if I could get it by the end of the week, that would be great.”

“As long as I can still figure out how to turn on a computer when this mission ends, you'll have my e-mail.”

“Oh, and Johno? You're my best friend too. Eighty-four percent of the time, anyway.”

“Eighty-four,” Jonathan said with a smile. “I'll take it.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

“It's probably Darwin and Oli wondering where we are,” Jonathan said as he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his text messages.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Leave now or you're next. No more warnings.

OCTOBER 25, 10:02 A.M. BAE HEADQUARTERS. LONDON, ENGLAND

“Welcome back. Feeling better?” Darwin asked Jonathan and Shelley while seated at a table with Oli and Hattie.

“Nina's threatening to infect us!” Shelley blurted out, and then paused, realizing how hysterical she sounded. “Just kidding. That was my imitation of how a frightened, inexperienced operative might react.”

“I don't understand,” Oli said calmly while drinking a cup of tea. “What happened?”

“We just received an anonymous text. It says, ‘Leave now or you're next. No more warnings,'” Jonathan read aloud from his phone.

“Nina's coming for you,” Darwin announced. “She knows you're on her trail. And she doesn't want to take any chances.”

“With all due respect, you're out of your league. Nina's a first-class operative. You simply don't stand a chance against her,” Oli stated unequivocally as he placed his teacup on the table.

Jonathan stared at Oli intensely, so intensely that a vein on his forehead started to throb. He had spent his whole life, all twelve years of it, telling himself that he couldn't do things. And now that he finally felt strong enough to face the world, he wasn't going to let some tea-sipping academic tell him he couldn't! Never mind that a mere hour ago the boy was on the verge of fainting from fear. That was then. And this is now.

“We can handle it,” Jonathan responded firmly.

“You sure about that?” Darwin asked, looking over at Hattie, whose lips were moving as she read. “Because if you want out, we understand.”

“We're not quitting,” Shelley asserted. “Not now. Not ever.”

“To risk your minds for a country that isn't even your own, are you sure you want to do that?” Darwin pressed on.

“We're sure,” replied Jonathan. “Aren't we, Shells?”

“As sure as Randolph has one eye.”

Jonathan sighed. “A simple yes would have done it.”

OCTOBER 25, 2:00 P.M. BAE CAFETERIA. LONDON, ENGLAND

Tense and on edge, Jonathan and Shelley pushed their trays along the counter, stopping to pile food on their plates every few seconds.

“Shells,” Jonathan said, wiping his forehead with his hand. “I'm sweating. A lot. Not a normal amount. An amount that feels dangerous. Maybe we got carried away back there? Maybe we should have taken the out?”

“Did you see Hattie moving her lips as she read?” Shelley asked, nervously fidgeting with an apple. “It took me years to stop doing that. You don't know the shame. In my family, a family of geniuses, to move your lips while reading?! It was unheard of! I used to smuggle menus into the bathroom at restaurants just so I could read them in peace.”

“You could have just covered your mouth with your hand,” Jonathan said as he placed a carton of milk on his tray.

“That's even weirder than moving your lips while you read!” Shelley scoffed. “You have the worst ideas.”

“Look who's talking! Aren't you the girl who wants to use giraffes as cell towers?”

“Giraffes are way better looking than those ugly metal things.”

“You need help,” Jonathan whispered through gritted teeth.

“You're right, I do need help. I need a partner who can actually tell time,” Shelley snapped.

“I've never had a problem telling time, at least not recently,” Jonathan responded. “And FYI it's
library
, not
liberry
!”

“I know that!”

“You sure about that?” Jonathan asked, raising his eyebrows.

“As sure as the sky is blue, which is most of the time, but not all of the time because of clouds and rainy days and stuff,” Shelley rambled as she fiddled with her glasses.

“Can't you ever just answer a question with a simple yes or no?” Jonathan said with a huff.

“Yes,” Shelley said, and then pursed her lips as though trying to hold back the words. “See? I just did it!”

Jonathan didn't respond; he simply stared at Shelley. She was the only person in the world whom he truly trusted. Not just in London. Or the United Kingdom. Or even in the United States. But the whole world. And it wasn't just because she knew his name, both first and last, but because she knew
him
, she understood him. And that was something that even Jonathan's own parents couldn't say.

“Johno,” Shelley said. “You've been staring at me for a really long time. And frankly, you're starting to remind me of this cat I once knew who had rabies. He used to sit in the corner and glare at people. It was really creepy. And not just because he was foaming at the mouth.”

“Shells, I don't want to fight with you,” Jonathan admitted. “We can fight with the whole world if we need to, but let's not fight with each other.”

“No problemo,” Shelley said, removing her glasses and smiling at him. “That means ‘no problem' in Spanish.”

“Got it,” Jonathan said, nodding. “So we had a little freak-out. We let our nerves get the better of us, but we're still going to do this. We're going to stop Nina, right?”

“Right,” Shelley confirmed.

“So how are we going to find her?” Jonathan asked.

“According to the text message, Nina's going to find us.”

“I think it's worth risking our brains, the little we have, anyway, for someone else's country,” Jonathan said as much for himself as for Shelley.

“Of course it is! Why should a person's birthplace be a reason not to help them?”

Jonathan stared at Shelley, so impressed by her statement that he was actually a little stunned.

“Are you okay?” Shelley asked, grabbing hold of Jonathan's arms. “You look like you have serious indigestion.”

“I do? That was my ‘I'm proud of you' look.”

 “You definitely need to work on it, then.”