Get Smart-ish (13 page)

Frustrated, Shelley raised her voice. “Open your eyes, Randy! Can't you see that something is happening here?”

“Poor choice of words, Shells.”

“I meant see with the one eye you have. Obviously you can't see with your glass eye,” Shelley said before pausing. “And on that note, I would like to issue a formal retraction of everything I just said.”

“You have nothing but tales. And in my world, facts are all that matter. Bring me proof and I will listen, but without it, you are not only wasting my time but your own. You need to focus on tracking Nina, not taking down your fellow operatives!” Randolph snapped before stomping away.

“That went well. And by
well
, I mean a total disaster,” Shelley said as she watched Randolph disappear from view. “I think it's time to go rogue.”

“Meaning?”

“We wait for Nina's signal,” Shelley answered. “And then we take them down.”

OCTOBER 28, 6:22 A.M. 10 DOWNING STREET. LONDON, ENGLAND

“Wake up, Johno!” Shelley said, her face so close that he actually felt her breath warming his skin.

“Too comfortable, you are definitely too comfortable with me. A simple tap on the arm would have done the trick.”

“It's time,” Shelley announced.

“Time for what?”

“To get up and save the day.”

“What?” Jonathan muttered, leaning forward in bed.

“Danger called and guess who answered? Me!”

“Shells, can you please stop talking like you're in a comic book and just tell me what's going on?”

“Nina texted. She finally found a safe laboratory to destroy LIQ-30.”

“Excellent,” Jonathan replied, stifling a yawn.

“Only, she needs our help breaking in.”

“It's beginning to feel like breaking and entering is as normal as using a key,” Jonathan moaned.

“I'm glad to hear you say that, because we're breaking into Buckingham Palace. You know, the queen's house, her crib, her main pad, her—”

And with that, Jonathan pulled the sheet over his head and sighed.

“Come on, Johno! Mrs. Cadogan's making breakfast. When I told her we were breaking into Buckingham Palace, she said we deserved pancakes!”

Pottering around the kitchen in a gray housedress, a striped apron, and a gas mask sitting atop her head, Mrs. Cadogan appeared more than a little eccentric.

“Good morning, children,” the old woman called out cheerfully as Jonathan and Shelley walked into the room.

“Someone woke up in a good mood,” Jonathan noted as he took a seat at the table.

“Haven't you heard? We're winning the war!”

“Talk about old news,” Shelley whispered to Jonathan as she grabbed a pancake. “Do you think I should wear pearls? You know, just in case we run into Her Majesty.”

“Shells, the queen has not invited us to tea. This is a mission, plain and simple. After that, it's back across the pond.”

“…So, no pearls?”

OCTOBER 28, 2:03 P.M. BUCKINGHAM PALACE. LONDON, ENGLAND

“Three children, please. And may I add, you really ought to consider expanding the age options. There needs to be something between child and adult; perhaps you could call it almost adult,” Shelley suggested to the woman working the ticket booth at Buckingham Palace.

“I'm sorry, young lady, but did you say something?” the woman asked.

“Oh, I said something, all right!” Shelley replied with a huff as Jonathan pushed her out of the way.

“Three children, please,” he repeated.

“That'll be sixty-two pounds, forty pence,” the woman responded, handing over three tickets.

“Just think, Nina, soon the world will no longer be in danger of seriously confused people with the attention span of gnats. Well, at least not newly confused people with the attention span of gnats,” Shelley rambled as they waited for the start of the tour.

Nina looked around the ticket hall, anxiously checking for any sign of Hattie, Darwin, or Oli. “You're absolutely certain that they didn't follow you?”

“Following unexceptionals in a crowd isn't easy, even for BAE agents,” Jonathan said.

“You're a lucky lot, you unexceptionals—natural-born operatives,” Nina said with a faint smile.

“That's true, but it also means your dentist forgets who you are and removes a healthy tooth,” Jonathan said as he touched his jaw, remembering the loss of a perfectly good molar.

Shelley rolled her eyes. “It only happened once. Don't be such a drama queen.”

“It's taken quite a bit of work, but I've finally found a secure path to the laboratory,” Nina leaned in and whispered to Jonathan and Shelley. “It's a relatively simple plan. But hopefully one that will work. You two are to break away from the tour upon entering the second stateroom. There will be a door in the southwest corner of the room—”

“Southwest?” Shelley repeated while rubbing her chin.

“I feel it's important you know that we have no sense of direction,” Jonathan admitted to Nina.

“Can you tell your left from your right?” Nina asked with a furrowed brow.

“Most of the time,” Shelley answered matter-of-factly.

“Very well, upon entering the second stateroom, there will be a door to your right. It leads to a staircase. Go to the second landing, climb out the window, shimmy across the roof until you see a storm drain, hold on to the pipe, and climb down to the balcony below, go through the window, and finally unlock the door. I will be on the other side. From there, we are a mere stone's throw from the laboratory.”

“Are you sure you don't want to switch roles? You could do all the climbing and shimmying and then let us in?” Shelley asked.

“I'm afraid someone would see me. You two, on the other hand—”

“We know, we know, we're basically invisible,” Jonathan interrupted.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Nina asked.

“Can we handle this? Does the pope wear plaid?” Shelley scoffed.

“No, he doesn't,” Nina responded. “He wears white.”

“Really? How boring.”

“What Shelley meant to say is, not only can we handle this, we're ready,” Jonathan clarified.

“Ready like Freddie!” Shelley blurted out, and then winked at Nina.

“What are you talking about? Who's Freddie?”

“Nina, please forget that I even mentioned Freddie. And for the record, I don't know anyone named Freddie. Sometimes I just say things,” Shelley explained. “Bottom line, I would like to issue a formal retraction of my statement regarding Freddie. So please forget that I even mentioned the boy's name. Or, at the very least, pretend like you've forgotten.”

Nina's eyes started to prick with tears as she stared at Jonathan and Shelley. The mission was sure to fail with these two. There was simply no way around it. They had no idea what they were doing.

“You're worried we're going to let you down, aren't you? That we're going to sink the mission,” Jonathan said as he grabbed hold of Nina's arm. “But here's the thing: There's no need to worry. We've never failed a mission yet.”

Of course, there had only ever been one other mission, but Jonathan thought it best to send Nina off on a positive note.

“One hundred percent success rate,” Shelley confirmed.

Nina's face relaxed. “I must admit that is a most impressive statistic.”

“We know,” Shelley said as the guide signaled that the next tour was starting.

OCTOBER 28, 2:24 P.M. BUCKINGHAM PALACE. LONDON, ENGLAND

Trailing behind the tour, Jonathan and Shelley were awestruck at the opulence of the palace. Crystal chandeliers dangled from thirty-foot ceilings. Intricate gold-leaf moldings lined the walls. And furniture that appeared straight out of a fairy tale covered the well-polished wooden floors.

“Is it just me, or does this whole vibe scream
Shelltastic
?” Shelley asked as she took in the wonders of the first stateroom.

“Shelltastic likes chandeliers and thrones? Who knew?”

“Bottom line, I would love a castle.”

“Well, I'll be sure to keep that in mind when your birthday rolls around,” Jonathan responded as Shelley bent her knees and awkwardly bowed her head.

“I've been practicing my curtsy all morning, just in case the queen walks by.”

“In the spirit of managing expectations, I feel you should know that the queen does not regularly, or ever, just pop up during tours of the palace,” Jonathan explained as they entered the second stateroom.

“This is just another reason why you have the nickname Dream Killer!” Shelley said with a huff as Jonathan turned his attention to finding the door.

“Look to your right, Shells. That's it. That's the door.”

Shelley nodded and then turned her head.

“No, Shells, your other right.”

As the tour prepared to leave the second stateroom, Jonathan and Shelley did what they did best—they blended into the background. Standing between two marble statues, they exchanged glances. Was it possible the tour guide would spot them? After all, the security guard at the museum had noticed Shelley when she pulled the fire alarm. But as the minutes passed, they relaxed. And soon the tour was gone.

“Let's go,” Jonathan whispered, and then rushed across the room.

“Is the theme song for
Mission: Impossible
playing in your head too?” Shelley asked, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“No, I'm too busy thinking about what English prisons are like,” Jonathan replied, then flung open the door and sprinted up the stairs.

However, after nine steps, both Jonathan and Shelley were red in the face and totally out of breath.

“Maybe it's best we just walk quickly,” Jonathan suggested in between gasps of air, leaning against the wall.

Unable to even speak, Shelley nodded in agreement.

“There's the window,” Jonathan said as they reached the top of the stairs.

“Wait! We're supposed to crawl across that?” Shelley said, looking out the window at the narrow sliver of roof, no more than six feet wide.

“You'll be fine,” Jonathan reassured Shelley.

“Not if I roll off! There's nothing to break my fall but the cold hard ground!”

“Shells, we have a job to do. We can't let our fears take over.”

“You're right,” Shelley conceded as she followed Jonathan out the window.

“Just don't look down,” he instructed as they started slowly slinking across the tiled roof. “Look at the view of London! Look at the sky! Look anywhere! Just don't look down!”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Really, Shells? You want to talk about ghosts
now
?”

“I'm pretty sure a ghost has entered my body with the sole purpose of making me look down! There's no other explanation! It's like someone's pulling my eyes over to the ledge!”

“Don't do it, Shells!”

But the girl couldn't help it. Something deep within her needed to know if the drop-off was as scary as she imagined.

“Johno…Johno…Johno.”

“Please stop saying my name; it's making me
very
nervous,” Jonathan sputtered as everything from the soles of his feet to his scalp started sweating.

“It's a long way down, Johno,” Shelley whispered. “A really long way down.”

“Not helpful, Shells!”

“‘Two twelve-year-old children died today at Buckingham Palace after falling off the roof.'”

Jonathan clenched his jaw. “How is writing a press release about our deaths helping the situation?”

“All I can hope is that they spell
Shelley
correctly. You know, a lot of people don't put the extra
e
in. It's always been a point of pride for me, that my name is just the tiniest bit different.”

“I know, Shells. But can we please stop talking about our deaths and focus on scaling down the drainpipe?”

“Scaling down the drainpipe? What does that mean?”

“It means we're going to hold on to the drainpipe and climb down the wall to the balcony a floor below.”

“The balcony
way
down there?”

“That's the one,” Jonathan responded.

“There is no way I'm doing that! Forget it! Let the Brits fend for themselves!”

“Shells, before you decide anything, what do you say we stop and take a deep breath?”

“I hate it when people say that!” Shelley griped. “I spend every second of my life breathing—why is breathing
a little deeper
so special? Is it a magical unicorn sent to solve all my problems? I don't think so!”

“I'm sorry, Shells. I never meant to imply that taking a deep breath was anything like a magical unicorn sent to solve all your problems,” Jonathan said calmly. “I just wanted us to pause for a second and think. What's scarier—climbing down a drainpipe where there is a slight possibility that you will fall and break every bone in your body or letting Nina down, failing the mission, and allowing LIQ-30 to wind up in the wrong hands?”

“Breaking every bone in my body.”

“Shelley Brown, do you really mean that?”

“Do not use my full name! This is not a court of law!”

“This is the moment. We either step up and risk our lives to be great, to be the people that Hammett thinks we are, or we roll over and fail. And this isn't like failing math or English. There's no summer school. There's no second chance.”

Shelley took a deep breath. And then paused, having realized what she had done. “I have to admit, it does kind of help.”

Jonathan smiled.

“I'm not ready to say good-bye to Shelley Brown, International Lady of Espionage.”

“Then start crawling.”

And so they did, one hand over the other until they reached the edge of the roof, where they were presented with the thin metal drainpipe running along the wall to the balcony below.