S.T.I.N.K.B.O.M.B. (2 page)

‘SPADE says he’s the best available.’

‘Well, I say you’ll be digging a deep hole for yourself if you use SPADE on this one.’

‘Time will tell,’ Grey mused, ‘in the fullness of . . . er . . . time.’

‘His youth may have certain advantages,’ Highwater suggested. ‘He probably won’t be tempted by the sort of stunts that got Agent Kilo into trouble.’

‘Whatever.’ Agent X-ray shrugged. ‘So what’s his name, this new boy wonder?’

Highwater removed her glasses and smiled.

‘Hunt,’ she said emphatically. ‘Archie Hunt.’

Archie Hunt was struggling to stay awake. The afternoon sun was streaming through the classroom window and bathing him in warm yellow light while his teacher, Miss Moore, who
was known as Moore the Bore, had been droning on about lizards or frogs or something for over an hour.

Archie allowed his eyelids to close – just for a moment – while he listened to his teacher’s nasal monotone.

‘Like many reptiles, lizards have a keen sense of smell which they use to detect the presence of any potential predators. Interestingly, they actually smell using their tongues.’ The
flat whine of Miss Moore’s voice washed over Archie, gradually receding until it was no more than a faint hum, like a distant jet plane. His head began to nod.

Soon he was flying his own plane – soaring through the clear blue sky above. He was on a dangerous bombing mission, diving low over enemy territory, rocking his wings this way and that as
he avoided enemy gunfire. Amidst the scream of his jet, the chatter of machine-gun fire and the drumbeat of explosions, he could hear mission control trying to contact him.

‘Calling Mr Hunt. Come in, Mr Hunt.’

‘This is Hunt,’ he replied. ‘Pass your message.’

‘Will you be back with us soon?’

‘Just as soon as I’ve taken out the enemy base.’

‘Excellent. Will that be before or after PE?’

‘PE?’ Archie wondered. What was mission control talking about? But in that moment of reflection, the bombs faded away and his screaming jet plane evaporated. With a swelling sense of
discomfort Archie opened his eyes.

Everyone in the class was looking at him. Some were wide-eyed with astonishment, others were grinning with malicious delight. Miss Moore was standing over Archie’s desk, her lips pursed in
an expression of disappointment.

‘Now you’ve come back down to earth,’ she said, ‘I think you can safely put those wings away don’t you?’

As the whole class exploded with laughter Archie realised his arms were outstretched like a five-year-old playing planes. His cheeks burned furiously as he tucked his hands under his desk in
case they should embarrass him again.

‘Oh dear,’ growled Harvey Newman, the class hard man, under his breath. ‘It looks like Mr Goody Two Shoes himself is well and truly in the doghouse.’ A handful of his
cronies made a show of stifling their chuckles.

‘I’m surprised at you, Mr Hunt,’ said Miss Moore, placing her hands behind her back like a barrister cross-examining a witness. ‘I hope, for your sake, you weren’t
actually
daydreaming
in my class?’

‘No, Miss.’ Archie did his best to sound surprised by the very suggestion.

‘Good.’ Miss Moore sounded so pleased that, for a moment, Archie thought he was off the hook. ‘In that case,’ she continued, ‘perhaps you would be so kind as to
remind the class what animals prey on lizards?’

Archie felt a rock drop into his stomach. ‘Well . . . that would be . . . obviously . . .’

‘I’m waiting.’

Miss Moore tapped her foot impatiently.

‘If you can’t give me an answer I’ll have to conclude that you have been paying no attention whatsoever and refer the incident to Mr Head.’

Archie sighed. The headmaster, Head the Head, who was renowned for his merciless approach to classroom discipline, had once given a boy detention for a whole term for sneezing in assembly. Just
as Archie was beginning to accept his fate he noticed his best friend, Barney Jones, who was sitting at the front of the class and holding up a sheet of A4 behind Miss Moore’s back.

Surreptitiously Archie pushed his glasses up his nose and peered at the words Barney had scrawled on the paper.

‘Five seconds,’ barked Miss Moore.

‘Birds of prey!’ Archie blurted out with a mixture of relief and triumph.

‘Yes,’ Miss Moore conceded with grudging surprise. ‘What else?’

‘Most bigger animals like wolves . . . foxes and . . .’ Archie squinted at the last word that Barney had squeezed into the bottom corner of the page.

‘Coy . . . oats?’

‘Excuse me?’

Quickly Archie realised his mistake. ‘Coyotes,’ he said hurriedly ‘I meant to say coyotes.’

‘Correct,’ Miss Moore said, studying him suspiciously

Archie smiled innocently.

‘OK, class,’ continued the teacher. ‘Get your textbooks out and turn to page two hundred and thirty-four.’

As she turned and strode to the front of the class Barney spun in his seat, screwed his cheat sheet into a tiny ball and pushed it into his rucksack.

‘Thanks for helping me out with Moore the Bore,’ Archie said as he and Barney walked along B-block corridor. The aroma of disinfectant and musty sweat filled the
air. ‘I owe you one.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Barney, pushing a Bounty bar into his mouth. He was a tubby boy with tight curly blond hair and wide blue eyes that gave him an expression of permanent
wonderment. ‘I saw a fellow agent under interrogation and I acted. It’s what I’m trained for.’

‘Sure.’ Archie smiled.

Barney spent his whole life playing a game in which he was an undercover agent, teachers were evil villains and some other pupils were double agents. He pretended his parents were his MI6
handlers and his bike was a supercar loaded with gadgets.

‘I could see the Bore was about to break you and that would have compromised our mission,’ Barney continued, speaking through one side of his mouth while chomping his chocolate bar
on the other.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘So I sent you the coded message. It’s basic trade craft.’

‘The message wasn’t exactly coded though, was it?’ Archie laughed. ‘It was just written quite small.’

‘Exactly.’ Barney grinned. ‘I didn’t want any enemy agents to decipher it.’

‘Don’t you ever get tired of pretending to be a spy?’ Archie asked.

‘Everyone needs a fantasy,’ Barney conceded. ‘You dream about being a pilot and I dream about being a spy. It’s the same thing, isn’t it?’

Archie hesitated for a moment. ‘Yup,’ he said. ‘We’re just a couple of dreamers.’

‘Code red, code red.’ Barney was looking towards the exit at the end of the corridor where Harvey Newman and a bunch of his mates were loitering. ‘Enemy operatives up
ahead.’

‘Great,’ sighed Archie. ‘That’s all we need – a run-in with Hardly Human.’

Barney studied his mobile as if it was a palmtop computer. ‘Intel reports suggest suspects are prone to mindless aggression of the roughing-up variety and planning an imminent strike. Your
orders are not to engage with the enemy. I repeat, do
not
engage.’

‘What do you mean, “intel reports”?’ asked Archie as they approached the group of thugs.

‘It’s short for intelligence rep—’

‘I know what it’s short for, you wally. I meant, “Where does your intel come from?”’

‘I overheard him talking in the bogs,’ Barney conceded. ‘Newman got double detention for giving Miss Smith verbals. He said he’s ready to pound someone.’

The gang blocked the corridor. ‘Excuse us, please,’ said Archie. ‘Can we just get past?’

‘Well, look who it is,’ sneered Newman. He circled the two friends once then stood so close in front of Archie that their noses were almost touching. ‘All right,
Hunt?’

‘Hello, Hardly.’

Newman frowned. ‘What did you just call me?’ he demanded, grabbing a handful of Archie’s shirt.

‘I meant to say Harvey. Slip of the tongue, sorry.’ Archie smiled amiably as Newman’s eyes narrowed. He was a solid lump of a boy with pinkish skin and gingery blond hair cut
into a flat top.

If I find out that’s some kind of smart-alec nickname then I’ll mash you like a . . . like a . . .’

‘A potato?’ suggested Archie helpfully.

‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’ snarled Newman.

Archie shrugged. ‘Not really.’

‘Well, you’re not the only one who can think up clever names,’ Newman said. ‘I’m going to start calling your friend here Fatty.’

‘That
is
clever,’ said Barney. ‘Can we go now?’

‘As for you, Hunt, I’m going to call you Four Eyes. You know, because you wear glasses and that.’

‘Yes, I pieced that together for myself, thanks,’ said Archie, absently adjusting his spectacles. ‘Brilliant – well done you. Anyway, must dash.’

‘Not so fast.’ Newman put a hand on Archie’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. ‘What got into you in biology? You looked like such a weirdo.’

Archie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Moore the Bore just seemed to be living up to her name more than usual.’

‘Yeah, well, I was bored too. But I didn’t pretend to fly round the classroom going, “
Come in, mission control, can you hear me, mission control?
”’ For his
impression of Archie, Newman adopted a high-pitched warble that made his cronies snigger. ‘How come I get double litter duty for giving Smith a bit of lip and you get away scratch free for
acting like such a clown? You were like that toy that thinks he can fly in that cartoon. You know, Buzz whatsaname. In fact, forget Four Eyes – I’m going to start calling you
Buzz
.’

Newman emphasised the last word by shoving Archie.

‘You can go now, Fatty and Buzz,’ Newman smirked, standing aside to let Archie and Barney pass.

The two friends exchanged glances then Barney pushed open the exit door.

‘Bye, Hardly’ said Archie, stepping into the afternoon air.

‘See you tomorrow, Buzz Lightwater.’

‘You mean Light
year
, brainache,’ Archie muttered under his breath.

‘HEY!’ Newman ordered. ‘What did you say, Buzz?’

‘Me? Nothing,’ Archie said innocently. ‘I probably misheard but it sounded like you just said Light
water
.’

‘Yeah? And so what if I did?’ Newman snorted.

‘I think you meant Buzz Light
year
,’ Archie said slowly.

‘No I never,’ Newman insisted, bunching his fists and frowning.

‘My mistake.’ Archie smiled pleasantly. ‘So who is this Buzz Lightwater then?’

Newman studied Archie for a moment before turning to scan the expectant faces of his gang. Looking back he considered his options for a few seconds before replying with two simple words.

‘Get them!’

Two of the bullies grabbed Barney, yanking his rucksack off his shoulder and tipping its contents on the ground before laying into him with their feet and fists. Meanwhile,
Newman charged at Archie, who braced himself for the pain he was about to endure. Apart from being much slighter than Newman, he had never been in a fight in his whole life. But as the punches few
at his face Archie felt a strange sense of control come over him.

As though it was second nature to him, he skipped backwards, blocking or dodging every single blow. When there was a lull in Newmans onslaught Archie intuitively planted his left foot, leaned
back and drove his right foot straight into his opponent’s chest. To his amazement his kick lifted the bully clean off his feet, knocking him flat on his back.

Seeing Newman floored, his cronies forgot about battering Barney and scarpered immediately. Newman himself clambered hurriedly to his feet, jabbing his finger and warning Archie to ‘look
out next time’ as he backed sheepishly into B block.

‘Whoa! Dude!’ Barney laughed. ‘That was awesome! What got into you?’

Archie pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. ‘I dunno,’ he replied, his face pale with shock. ‘It just, sort of, came naturally.’

‘Well, just so there’s no confusion next time,’ Barney said, dabbing at his bloodied lip with a tissue while retrieving his James Bond lunch box, ‘
Do not engage the
enemy
translates into
Don’t wind up Harvey Newman
.’

‘Sorry,’ said Archie, picking up a couple of exercise books and handing them to his friend. ‘I thought it was some sort of code.’

‘For what? Try and get us duffed up at all costs?’

Archie smiled weakly.

‘M’s going to kill me when she sees my coat,’ said Barney, inspecting a tear under one arm.

‘Tell your mum it was my fault.’

Barney smiled and shook his head. ‘An agent never blows another operative’s cover. Besides, it was worth it just to see you kick Harvey Newman’s butt. You were like some sort
of super-ninja-nerd. Seriously, where
did
you learn those moves?’

Archie clenched his hands in his pockets to stop them trembling. ‘Honestly, I haven’t got a clue.’

‘Well, it was wicked.’ Barney smiled. ‘
Totally
weird – but wicked.’

Blushing, Archie smiled. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

‘I’m a bit shaken,’ Barney admitted. ‘But not stirred.’