The Venice Job (4 page)

Steinberger pushed through the swinging double doors of the canteen and found the room dark and silent.

‘Stay close,' he whispered, unable to keep the sound of dread out of his voice.

‘What's going on?' Max asked.

Steinberger said nothing.

‘What did Irene say? Is she okay?' Linden had a special fondness for Irene, and after she'd almost been killed by a potentially fatal sleeping sickness
⁷
his fondness for her had only increased.

Steinberger took out a small red gadget. ‘This is an enemy detector.' He whispered again. ‘If there is someone here who has managed to evade Spyforce security, this will track them down.'

Steinberger activated the device and a small, melodic sound hummed out.

‘Oh.' He sounded even more worried.

‘What is it?' Max was getting spooked.

‘It's …' Steinberger began but was interrupted by a blinding flash and frenzied cry.

‘Surprise!'

Max stared at the streamer-strung, balloon-filled canteen. A giant banner that said ‘Welcome
back Max!' was strung across the back wall. A mirror ball descended out of the roof sending out sparkles of coloured light, and a three-piece band started up in the corner.

‘Sorry, Max,' Steinberger apologised, as secret agents wearing black suits and silly hats sprang from behind chairs and blew squeaky party horns. ‘I did tell them low-key, but I guess …'

He was interrupted by another call on his palm computer. ‘I need to take that.' He looked relieved to have an excuse to move away from Max's accusing scowl.

Secret agents moved towards her and muttered what Max guessed was ‘welcome back' before moving quickly away.

Irene lunged forward and enveloped Max in the floury floral swirls and baking smells of her apron. ‘You're back! Oh, I can't tell you how pleased I am you're here.'

Max tried to breathe as her nose filled with puffs of flour and bits of pastry.

Finally Irene let her go and looked Max square in the eye. ‘I ruined whole recipes for days after you left. Soufflés kept collapsing, pies kept going soggy and all my cakes refused to rise.'

She reached over to a passing waiter and
picked up a glass of swirled vanilla and mango mousse covered with shaved orange chocolate. She stared at it as if it had been designed by Leonardo Da Vinci. ‘Now everything is perfect.'

Irene had really outdone herself. Trays of food kept coming out of the kitchen in a never-ending human train, layered with mini red and purple cherry tarts, towers of chocolate-and toffee-smothered profiteroles and mini sculptures of castles made out of rich white and dark Belgian chocolate.

‘You have got to try these.' Irene grabbed two castles and handed them to Linden and Toby.

‘This secret agent thing just gets better and better.' Toby eagerly bit into his castle but Max just frowned.

‘Linden?' Irene always valued his opinion on her new recipes.

He bit into the chocolate creation and closed his eyes. ‘Smooth. Creamy. With a hint of hazelnuts, nutmeg and …' He thought about it. ‘Freshly ground cinnamon.'

‘Perfect. You are still my favourite food connoisseur.' She hugged him before turning to Toby. ‘And Mr Jennings. How'd those training sessions go? I hear you're quite the secret agent.'
She gave him a hug too and only just avoided crushing what was left of his castle.

‘You heard right,' he said, popping the last bit of chocolate in his mouth before there were any more hugs.

‘You don't think you went a bit overboard?' Max asked Irene as the room filled with happily munching spies.

‘Me? Go overboard?' she said indignantly. ‘Special occasions deserve being celebrated with the best food I can muster, and this is one occasion worth celebrating.' She kissed Max on the forehead. ‘Better get back. Lots to do before this party is over.'

Irene swooped away to the kitchen, leaving Max and her scowl to stand in her wake.

‘I know it's hard for you, Max, but it looks like we'll have to enjoy ourselves.' Toby looked pained, then spotted a waiter with a tray of fish and chip baskets. ‘And one of those is definitely going to help.'

‘Besides,' Linden said logically, ‘it can't hurt to begin a mission with a full stomach.' He had a grilled lamb chop in one hand and a prawn skewer in the other.

Max smiled. ‘Thanks, Linden.'

‘Any time you need food advice, I'm your man.' His eyes flicked from one hand to the other, trying to decide what to eat next.

‘Not for that,' Max said quietly. ‘For asking me to come back.'

‘You would have done it eventually, I just had to hurry you up.' He smiled.

In the far corner of the canteen, Dretch, the maintenance operator, entered the room. Wearing his usual rumpled maroon coat, he was holding a drill and sporting a sour smile that held whole buckets of misery.

‘I didn't think Dretch was the party type.' Linden bit into a huge barbequed prawn.

‘Me neither.'

Max and Dretch had had an icy relationship from the instant they'd met, but after he'd helped save her mother from perishing in Blue's castle at Cape Wrath
⁸
she'd realised he was, as Steinberger had always told her, one of the most loyal agents the Force had ever had.

She walked over to him. ‘Hi.'

Dretch hugged the drill to his chest. He gave a slight nod of his head and looked away awkwardly.

‘Thanks for coming to the party.' Max blushed. ‘That was really nice of you.'

He looked towards the door behind Max. ‘The elevators are playing up again,' he grumbled. ‘I need to fix them.'

‘Oh.' Max felt as if someone had taken the trampoline away mid-bounce and she'd landed smack onto the ground. Realising she was in his way, she stepped aside and watched him pass.

He'd only taken a few steps before he stopped and turned around, clutching the drill like it was his favourite pet. ‘Um … it's, ahhh … good to see you. Back here, I mean. Ahhh …' he muttered, unable to look Max in the eye. ‘It's, ahhh …'

Dretch wasn't the world's best speaker and Max decided to put him out of his misery.

‘Thanks.'

He groaned and walked away.

‘He's not staying?' Linden appeared beside Max with a giant chocolate-covered strawberry.

‘Doesn't seem like it.' She frowned. ‘You know, Linden, the scary thing about Dretch is that sometimes he annoys me because he reminds me of … well … me.'

Linden stopped mid-chew. His cheek bulged out with strawberry and his eyes flicked about
trying to find something that would get him out of saying anything.

Max folded her arms across her chest. ‘You're supposed to say, “No, Max, even at your grumpiest you were never that bad.”'

‘Ohhh aah aah eee oooh.' For the moment the strawberry saved him from saying anything she might understand.

‘You'd better finish chewing that before you choke,' Max said with a raised eyebrow.

Steinberger had finished his call and made his way back to Max. ‘Everyone having a good time?' He asked nervously, unsure if Max had forgiven him yet.

‘Yeah.' Max smiled. ‘We are.'

Steinberger's tense shoulders relaxed. ‘That's a relief. A mission should always begin in good spirits, I always say. With your mood lifted high and your …'

‘Speaking of mission …' Max was keen to avoid another Steinberger talkfest. ‘Shouldn't we start ours?'

Steinberger looked at his watch. ‘Yes. Quite.'

He motioned to Toby who was busy trying out a sample plate of gourmet sausages. Toby quickly bundled a few into a serviette and hurried over.

‘You waved?'

‘It's time for your mission brief and our journey to the inner sanctum of the Force.' He placed a hand over his heart. ‘Mr Harrison's office.'

Steinberger stood like that for whole seconds.

‘Was it going to be any time soon, because I didn't get to try out all the sausages.' Toby bit into another one.

Steinberger came to. ‘Yes, of course.' He grinned. A new mission always put him in a high state of excitement. ‘Right now, in fact. Follow me.'

After a ride in an elevator disguised as a terracotta pot that stalled twice and groaned to a slow stop, Toby, Max, Linden and Steinberger plunged past the many secret levels of Spyforce to arrive at Harrison's office.

‘Have … a … nice … thank you … for … rrrrrr … raaaaa … orrrrr.' The melodious elevator greeting system slowed to a drawled stop.

‘For a top spy agency, you don't think you might need better elevators?' Toby squeezed through the half-open doors.

Steinberger seemed preoccupied by other thoughts and didn't answer. He straightened his tie, brushed over his hair and ran his tongue along his teeth before he stepped carefully into the richly carpeted, opulent foyer. Together they passed the glass cabinet with the Original Spyforce Manual and came to the doors of Harrison's office.

Steinberger wiped his hands on his hanky before carefully turning the doorknob. They entered a darkened room with tall ceilings and long stained-glass windows. There were sunken leather lounges crowded with cushions, lush red velvet curtains, and a fireplace with twisted marble sides like faded candy-canes. Clinging to every measure of wall space were paintings of secret
agents with their faces obscured, certificates, awards, accolades, diplomas, the odd tennis racquet and fishing rod, and shelves crammed with books. All around them were terracotta pots of all sizes and shapes.

‘He still has the terracotta pot thing going, then?' Linden whispered to Max.

‘Looks like it.'

Steinberger attached his palm computer to a data projector, brushed down his suit, rubbed his shoe against the back of his pants and stood before the desk of his esteemed leader.

Max, Linden and Toby stood beside him waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did, and after a few more seconds, still nothing did.

‘Am I missing something?' Toby whispered to Max.

Max shrugged. ‘Where's Mr Harrison?'

‘At home.' Steinberger said it like there was nothing even slightly odd about his answer.

‘At home?'

‘Yes,' he explained. ‘Under International Secret Agent Union Rules, he has to rest for at least a month to recover from the last mission, which, as you know, involved the death of Blue and
the very near death of …'

Steinberger couldn't say it. Even the idea that he could have lost his beloved leader had the effect of making his body prickle all over with fear.

‘Who's giving the mission briefing?' Max was trying hard to keep her patience.

‘I am.'

‘So we're not waiting for Mr Harrison?'

‘Yes, we are.' Steinberger's palm computer buzzed. ‘And here he is now.'

He eagerly opened the connection, but his excitement quickly withered away when he saw Mr Harrison projected before them. ‘Sir?'

Harrison's forehead was bandaged and he had what looked like a splat of baked beans in his hair.

‘Oh, my appearance. A small accident with a chainsaw and what I was hoping would be a quick snack. Nothing to worry about.'

The clump of beans made a timely slide off his head.

Toby frowned. This wasn't how he remembered the brave Spyforce leader who had successfully defeated Blue in the Portal Room during the last mission.
⁹

Even though Max was used to Harrison's clumsy ways, she shivered at the idea of a chainsaw in his hands.

‘Before we begin the mission briefing,' Harrison's voice filled with quiet pride, ‘I'd like to welcome back Max. Even though your absence was underpants … sorry, I mean,
brief
, it didn't feel right that you weren't around.' He paused briefly. ‘And if I'm not mistaken, I think this might deserve a speech.'

Steinberger had recovered from the shock of his chief's appearance, and reached into his pocket for the tape of brass band recordings he'd brought with him, hoping for this very moment.

‘I'm not sure that's necessary, sir,' Max tried.

‘No time for being shy. This is a great moment and it deserves to be heated softly.' He winced. ‘Oops, I mean,
treated properly
.'

‘So everyone keeps telling me,' Max mumbled.

Sniggered laughter crept out of Linden and Toby who were loving every minute of it.

Max gave a resigned sigh. Steinberger placed the tape in the recorder, pressed play and ran to the dimmer switch to turn down the lights.

‘Max Remy,' Harrison began solemnly. ‘It is an honour and a privilege that you have chosen to
return to Spyforce. In your brief time with the Force, you have displayed not only the finest skills of a secret agent but have contributed a personal level of loyalty that is of the highest … well, level.'

The brass band reached a powerful crescendo.

‘On behalf of innocent people all over the world, people who believe in justice and doing things the right way, I officially welcome you back to Spyforce.'

The band wailed to a big finish.

Steinberger pressed ‘stop' on the recorder, turned up the lights and burst into applause. Toby and Linden followed, enjoying Max squirm under all the attention.

‘Shouldn't we get on with the briefing now?'

‘Yes, yes, of course. Don't mind me. Steinberger?' Harrison wiped a tear from his eye.

Max turned to Toby and Linden who were doing the same. She glared at them, warning them to cut it out.

‘During the last few weeks,' Steinberger began, ‘Toby has begun his initial training as a Spyforce agent. As this is his first official mission with the Force, Max, you will be in charge of supervising him.'

‘Well, this is my lucky day, isn't it?' Max said sarcastically.

‘Looks like it,' Toby grinned.

‘He has been shown many of our gadgets,' said Steinberger, ‘but you may need to instruct him in the use of others, which should be fun.'

‘Yeah. A real hoot.'

‘You'll love it,' said Toby. ‘Wait and see. I'm a good student.'

Steinberger continued. ‘As you've all been told, your next mission will be in Venice. The Italian authorities have suspected something's been up for a few weeks, but they now have firm proof and have asked for our help. There has been an explosion in a glass factory on the Venetian island of Murano, and the person behind it has just delivered the Mayor of Venice a note, threatening great harm to the city if a vast sum of money isn't handed over within forty-eight hours. Your mission is to find out who the note is from and catch them before they carry out their plan.'

‘How did the mayor receive the note?' Linden asked.

‘With the regular mail. None of the house staff remembers seeing anything unusual about the delivery that day. It has been sent to the lab to be analysed.'

A picture of a young, good-looking boy
appeared on the screen beside Harrison.

‘You will work undercover as guests of the mayor's son, Luca Cavello. He works for a similar organisation in Italy and will act as your cover and be your main point of contact while you're in Venice.'

‘Excuse me, Steinberger, but aren't the three of us enough for this mission?' Max wasn't sure about working with an agent she didn't know. Plus, instead of dealing with two boys, she now faced working with three!

Harrison jumped in. ‘Luca's knowledge of the city will be invaluable and what he doesn't know he can find out. He has access to areas we don't. Luca also has a personal guard, so if you get into trouble, he will be there to kiss you.'

Toby reeled back. ‘Don't get me wrong, sir, I'm sure the guy's nice, but wouldn't a handshake be enough?'

Harrison screwed up his face. ‘I mean, he'll be there to
assist
you.'

‘Oh, well, that's okay then,' Toby joked.

‘Maybe you should carry on from here, Steinberger,' Harrison suggested.

‘Detailed maps of Venice including underwater diagrams have been downloaded into your palm
computers, as have all the contact numbers you will need, such as the mayor's private number and Luca's guard. You will also be contacted by a Spyforce agent who will brief you on developments as they happen. As far as the city of Venice is concerned, you are simply tourists visiting one of the most beautiful cities in the world, taking gondola rides, visiting churches and eating spaghetti.'

‘We'll eat all the spaghetti the Force need us to, sir.' Huge platefuls of pasta floated before Linden's mind.

‘Should we use the Time and Space Machine to get there?' Max asked.

‘Not this time. The mayor and his family are more than likely being watched closely and we feel it would be better if you arrived by plane like regular visitors.'

‘It's best that way,' Harrison added. He was finding it hard to stay out of the conversation.

Steinberger turned to face his leader. ‘And now it's time for our agents to be equipped, sir. So I'm afraid we must go.'

Max thought she saw Harrison's bottom lip tremble. ‘Isn't there more we should talk about? How to catch a gondola? Basics of the Italian
language? I'm very good when it comes to knowing the best pizza restaurants.'

‘Quimby will be waiting for us in the lab, sir.'

‘Okay,' Harrison said with fortitude. ‘If you must.'

Then Steinberger's lip wobbled. ‘We'll fill you in on how everything goes, sir. Goodbye for now.'

Max worried they were about to witness a blubbering satellite-linked mess.

‘Yes, yes. Farewell. Call me. You won't forget?'

‘We won't, sir.' Steinberger's voice cracked slightly.

‘May the Force be with you,' Harrison sniffed and Steinberger reluctantly ended the communication.

‘Why won't they let him come back if he wants to that badly?' Toby asked.

‘Union rules. Not too many people survive Portal Rooms and are able to function without a proper period of rest and recuperation. They believe it's safer this way.'

‘By the look of that bandage, I think it would be safer if he was here,' Linden said.

‘I know.' Steinberger frowned and pulled a small photo of Harrison from his pocket. In all the years he'd been at the Force he'd barely spent more than a
week away from Harrison, and that was only because he'd been under quarantine for a particularly stubborn case of chickenpox.

‘Is it always this emotional?' Toby whispered to Max.

‘Usually,' Max sighed.

‘Let's get down to the lab, eh?' Steinberger replaced the photo carefully into his pocket and blew his nose with an extra large hanky. ‘We've got an ancient city to save.'