Undercover Page 4

  ‘No way!’ Max exclaimed. ‘That’s called breaking and entering, and if we get caught we’ll be in heaps of trouble.’

  ‘Fine then, what do you propose?’ Kensy demanded, folding her arms again. ‘Because if we don’t test those substances, we won’t know for sure if someone’s trying to kill us until it’s too late and, so far, since we’ve become part of Pharos, I can think of at least three occasions when someone has wanted us dead. We never got to the bottom of the crash with Esmerelda or the attempted kidnappings and, personally, I’d rather know for sure.’

  Max hated to admit it, but everything Kensy said was true and there wasn’t really anywhere better to carry out their investigations. ‘Okay, fine. Why don’t we pay Derek a visit after breakfast and ask him for the key?’

  ‘Why?’ Kensy protested. ‘I can pick the lock.’

  Max shook his head. ‘Not this time, and it’s non-negotiable if you want my help. You’d better get dressed and maybe at least think about tidying up. Otherwise you know Song will do it and he really shouldn’t have to.’

  Kensy rolled her eyes even though she knew her brother was right.

  Max headed down to the kitchen, where Song had just pulled a batch of chocolate brownies out of the oven. Fitz looked up and grinned.

  ‘Good morning, Master Maxim,’ Song said, whipping off his oven mitts. He placed a bowl and spoon in front of the boy.

  ‘Morning,’ Max said cheerily. He poured himself some muesli and filled the bowl with full-cream milk. The doorbell rang as he sat down.

  All eyes flew to the monitor on the wall. Song peered at the screen before releasing the lock and admitting their guest. ‘Good morning, Mr MacGregor,’ he said. ‘Please come in. Mr Fitz won’t be a moment.’

  ‘Why’s Magoo here?’ Max said, munching on his muesli.

  Fitz took one last sip of his espresso and deposited his cup in the sink. ‘We’re off to play with some new gadgets to see whether they’re ready for inclusion in the school program,’ he said, folding up the paper. ‘Should be fun.’

  ‘At school?’ Max asked.

  ‘No, another secure facility in the city – I’ll take you there one day,’ Fitz said with a wink. ‘See you in a few hours.’

  Meanwhile, Kensy was on her way down to the kitchen when she spotted their headmaster in the sitting room. He was standing by the coffee table, contemplating the painting of the stag on the wall. Kensy’s stomach twisted. What else had she done lately to warrant a home visit? She was about to retreat to her room when the man turned around.

  ‘Hello Kensington,’ he said brightly.

  ‘Hello Mr MacGregor,’ she replied, continuing down the staircase. ‘Are you here to see –’

  ‘Fitz and I have some serious business to attend to.’ The man nodded, rocking back on his heels. ‘And what are you and your brother up to on this delightfully dreary day?’

  Kensy plastered a smile on her face, hoping she wasn’t the serious business. ‘We’ll be home studying. Maths research assignment followed by a Science project.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Magoo clapped his hands as Fitz appeared at the top of the kitchen stairs. ‘Right, we’d better be off. I don’t know about you, Fitz, but testing days always make me feel like a seven-year-old boy at Christmas.’

  Testing days? Kensy wondered what the man was talking about.

  Fitz gave her a wave and grabbed his coat from the hook by the front door. ‘Bye, Kens.’

  ‘Don’t work too hard, Kensington,’ Magoo said as he followed the man outside. He turned back and smiled. ‘And stay out of trouble, won’t you?’

  Kensy drew her raincoat around her ears and huddled underneath the umbrella as she and Max hurried around the corner to Mrs Grigsby’s newsagency. London looked as if someone had thrown a wash of grey paint over it, although it wasn’t as cold as it had been.

  ‘Seriously, I almost died when I saw Magoo in the sitting room,’ Kensy said. ‘I thought he was there to talk to Fitz about something else I’ve messed up.’

  ‘I wish we could’ve gone with them,’ Max said. ‘I’d love to be testing some new gadgets.’

  Kensy shot him a look. ‘Uh, I think we have enough to test for ourselves at the moment.’

  ‘Good point,’ Max conceded. He was carrying the ingredients in his small daypack as well as a lighter, a beaker, a set of measuring spoons, a bowl and a spare fire blanket filched from the pantry.

  The twins left their umbrellas at the shop door and walked inside. The small television set behind the counter was blaring, but there was no sign of Derek.

  ‘Hello?’ Max called.

  Derek’s head popped up like a meerkat over the top of the shelves in the second aisle. ‘Oh, hiya kids. I’m just restocking the tinned goods. We’ve ’ad a run on baked beans and tomato soup. Mostly from me,’ he said with a toothy smile. ‘What can I ’elp you wiv?’

  ‘Do you remember when we visited Mrs Brightside before Christmas?’ Max started. ‘Before she went on her holiday. You came into the house while we were there.’

  Derek frowned and scratched his head through his beanie. ‘Yeah, I remember. Wish I didn’t, but that was ages ago.’

  ‘I think I might have lost my necklace in her house,’ Kensy piped up. ‘We haven’t been able to ask anyone until now because you’d all gone away.’ She was counting on the fact that Derek wouldn’t realise there had been a bit of time between them visiting Esme Brightside and the day the granny gang was rounded up by MI6.

  ‘What’s it got to do wiv me?’ Derek walked around to the counter and dumped the empty box on top.

  ‘We remembered that you were doing lots of jobs for Mrs Brightside before she went on holiday and we thought you might have a key to the house,’ Max added.

  ‘I’m not supposed to go there,’ Derek said gruffly. ‘It’s off limits.’

  Kensy wrinkled her nose. ‘Why?’

  ‘It just is, that’s all.’ Derek picked up another box from behind the counter and tore it open.

  Tears spilled down the girl’s cheeks. ‘Oh, Max, I can’t believe it’s lost forever,’ she said in a wobbly voice, and promptly burst into racking sobs. ‘I know it’s only a silly necklace, but it was from … from … And now she’s gone and my necklace is too.’

  Max hugged Kensy tight and patted her on the back. ‘There, there, it’s okay. We still have our memories of her.’

  Derek stood by awkwardly, watching them. ‘Blimey, you’re makin’ me feel like rubbish,’ he mumbled, looking as though he might burst into tears as well.

  ‘Have you got a key?’ Max whispered over his sister’s shoulder. ‘You don’t have to come with us. We could pop down and take a quick look around then bring it straight back.’

  Derek’s eyes lit up. ‘You’re a genius, Max! You should get a tattoo, same as mine.’

  Max bit back a smile as Derek walked out into the room behind the shop.

  ‘Ever thought about a career on the stage, Kens?’ Max breathed.

  His sister grinned. ‘You weren’t too bad yourself.’

  Derek returned a minute later with a silver key on a ring. ‘’Ere you go, kids. Just make sure that you bring it straight back,’ he said, dropping it into Max’s outstretched hand.

  The girl attempted a smile. ‘Thank you, Derek, you’re an angel,’ she sighed, adding a final sniffle for effect.

  Without a backwards glance, the twins hurried out of the shop and into the rain, snatching up their umbrellas on the way.

  Max crouched over the bowl and carefully measured the white powder before dropping it in. Unlike yesterday, Kensy was completely focused this morning, reading the instructions several times.

  ‘Here we go,’ Max said, and clicked the lighter. ‘The moment of truth.’

  Being entirely encased in bricks, at least Esme Brightside’s dank cellar wouldn’t easily catch fire. He reached out and ignited the mixture, which began to burn far more fiercely than it should have. Still, it wasn’t the explosive reaction that had
occurred at school. He was just about to douse the flames when Kensy intervened.

  ‘No, not yet. I tried to put it out with water, remember, and that’s when it exploded.’ She unscrewed the lid of the flask and poured a few drops on the burning mass. A bright flash illuminated the room and a jet of flame soared towards the ceiling. Max smothered it with the fire blanket and within a few seconds all that remained was a smoky residue. ‘I think that settles it,’ Kensy said, dusting her hands. ‘The white powder is definitely not baking soda.’

  Max nodded. ‘Judging by the way it reacted with the water, my guess is it’s magnesium. We’ll have to talk to Mrs Vanden Boom first thing Monday morning.’

  ‘Do you believe me now?’ Kensy asked. ‘It’s obvious someone is trying to kill us – or at least me – and I think it’s about time we find out who it is before they succeed.’

  Max began to pack everything away while his sister stood by and watched. ‘Could you give me a hand?’

  ‘What?’ Kensy replied, apparently lost in her thoughts.

  ‘Never mind.’ Max shoved the rest of the gear into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. ‘Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.’

  The twins ran up the rickety cellar stairs, back down the hallway with its ghastly floral carpet and peeling wallpaper. Kensy opened the front door and peered out. The rain had stopped for now and the street appeared empty save for a noisy car sputtering past. She looked again and was pretty sure it was Derek’s old green banger with the whale tail and giant silver rims.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, dashing into the street. ‘I think that was Derek in the car, so maybe we should take the key back later.’

  ‘What if we –’

  KABOOM!

  Directly across the road, 13 Ponsonby Terrace exploded into a fireball. The twins were blown backwards against Mrs Brightside’s door while a huge lump of concrete smashed through the windscreen of a car parked at the kerb. Debris rained down on the street. Max felt something hit him on the forehead. He sat against the door, dazed and confused. Kensy staggered to her feet. For at least thirty seconds she couldn’t speak. Then the realisation hit her like a bolt of lightning.

  ‘Song!’ she screamed. ‘Song and the dogs are in there!’ Remembering her brother, she turned and gasped at the sight of him. Max was covered in dirt and blood, like something out of a horror movie.

  He tried to stand, but each time his legs gave way beneath him and he slumped back against the door. As the plume of dust began to clear and people came running out of their houses, there was a cacophony of shouts and screams. Children were crying and adults were calling to one another. Someone yelled that they had phoned the brigade while another fellow shouted for people to get away from the building in case it collapsed.

  ‘Max?’ Kensy grabbed hold of her brother’s shoulders and shook him. He looked at her, his blue eyes vacant. Her face crumpled and tears tracked two shaky lines down her dust-covered cheeks. Kensy glanced back towards the house. The entire front facade had been reduced to piles of rubble on the street.

  A woman she vaguely recognised put her hand on Kensy’s shoulder. ‘Are you all right, dear?’ she asked.

  ‘Song’s inside. Please look after my brother.’ Kensy pressed the heel of her hand against her pounding head, then ran towards the house. Heavy raindrops spattered against her face. The front steps were gone and she could see snatches of flames in what was left of the living room. Kensy looked at a way to get across the missing landing and was just about to jump when she was pulled backwards. She turned and couldn’t believe her eyes. ‘Song!’ Kensy sobbed. ‘I thought you were … I thought you were …’

  ‘I know,’ Song said, enveloping the girl in his arms. She was trembling uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. ‘Miss Kensington, please, we must go,’ he said as two firetrucks roared into the street.

  In a blur, Song guided her down the road and into a black taxi. Max was already in the back, as were Wellie and Mac. They scuttled towards her, whimpering, and she scooped them up in her arms, thinking she would never let them go. Kensy blinked and blinked again, trying to stop the world from spinning. She stared out the window and watched as the firemen connected their hoses and began dousing the flames. It looked like a war zone.

  Song hopped in and gave the cabbie a nod.

  ‘Don’t worry, sir, I’ll have you there in a jiffy,’ the driver said, pulling away from the kerb.

  Kensy reached over and clasped Max’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

  The black cab wound its way through the backstreets of London at frightening speed, then swung into a modest-looking mechanics workshop before a second garage door opened and the car stopped on a metal platform. Moments later, the vehicle descended into a parking garage. When they reached the bottom, a woman in a white jacket rushed out through a set of double doors. She was followed by two men pushing a hospital gurney. Kensy recognised her from their Christmas celebrations at Alexandria. All of the staff and families of Pharos employees had been present at the party and it was only then that the twins had realised just how many people worked for the organisation.

  ‘Doctor Foster,’ Song said, hopping out of the car.

  ‘Hello Song,’ the doctor said with a grim smile. ‘Let’s see what we’re dealing with.’

  The two men had Max on the gurney before Kensy unbuckled her seatbelt. She took a deep breath and swallowed her fear. It wouldn’t do her brother an ounce of good if she betrayed her true feelings. Her mind was racing. The science experiment gone wrong was one thing, but this was a whole other level of treachery.

  Cordelia Spencer stared through the glass panel into the room where Max was now sleeping. The doctor had removed a large shard of glass from the boy’s hairline and had stitched him up with the precision of a master tailor, after which she applied a layer of synthetic skin, rendering the wound invisible.

  Kensy wasn’t at all surprised when Dr Foster had pulled out the same device Mrs Vanden Boom had used to check them over after their car crash at Alexandria. The RUOK 2.0 was a small tubular gadget that acted something akin to an X-ray machine and CT scanner with a whole host of other features too. A hologram of the patient was projected in midair, displaying their vital signs. Apart from Max’s cut and some bruises, the children had got away with barely a scrape, which was something of a miracle given the extensive damage to the house.

  Kensy had been lying across three chairs in the waiting room after Song had insisted she drink a cup of tea and eat a honey sandwich. She sat up as Fitz strode into the room and whispered in Cordelia’s ear.

  ‘Scotland Yard is heading up the investigation,’ he reported. ‘They took it out of the hands of the Metropolitan Police as soon as you were revealed as the owner of the house. They’ll be worried there’s a nutter out there with a grudge against the newspaper.’

  ‘And have we got someone on the inside?’ Cordelia asked.

  ‘PA R2731 is in charge. Gas leak is the official line. She’ll contain it so we can get our people on the ground.’

  ‘And what’s the real story?’ Kensy piped up, leaning forward in her chair. ‘It was a bomb, wasn’t it? Max and I were meant to be at home. Song and Fitz were too.’

  ‘Thank goodness you weren’t.’ Cordelia turned to her granddaughter. She’d barely been able to breathe when word had come through that there had been an explosion at Ponsonby Terrace. It was miraculous that Song had taken the dogs for a walk when he did, not long after the children had gone to the corner shop, and that Fitz had been out with Magoo.

  ‘Now do you believe that someone is trying to kill us?’ Kensy said. Her eyes widened as she remembered what they had been doing shortly before the explosion. ‘And we know for sure that the ingredients for the Science experiment yesterday had been tampered with.’

  Fitz frowned at her. ‘How can you be certain?’

  Kensy recounted what they had been up to across the road, in the depths of Mrs Brightside’s basement. ‘It was
too risky to perform the experiment at home in case we set the house on fire,’ she explained, ‘which is ironic, isn’t it, given what happened?’

  Cordelia smoothed her navy skirt and took a deep breath. ‘Well, that’s that then.’

  ‘What’s what?’ Fitz asked.

  ‘I need you and Song and the children on a mission in Sydney, leaving as soon as Max is given the all clear to travel,’ Cordelia said.

  Fitz eyed the woman warily. ‘Trainee agents aren’t assigned to missions … unless the rules have changed overnight?’

  ‘I’ve decided to break with protocol,’ Cordelia replied briskly. ‘As the Head of Pharos, I can do whatever I want and the fact of the matter is I need two children watched like hawks. The best way to do it is to infiltrate the school they attend. Kensy and Max will befriend them and you can get yourself a job as a teacher – they’ll only have been back from summer holidays for a few weeks and we can organise to have a staff member leave suddenly. Song can go too and look after you all.’

  Kensy’s brow puckered. ‘Sydney … as in Sydney, Australia?’

  ‘Yes, my hometown,’ Cordelia said with a sad smile. ‘I wish I could come with you. It would be a nice break from everything else.’

  ‘But the children have only just begun their training. Do you really think they’re ready?’ Fitz said. He had a feeling there was more to this mission than Cordelia was currently letting on.

  Kensy’s jaw dropped and she cast Fitz a dirty look. ‘Max and I took down –’

  Cordelia held up a hand, stopping the girl mid-sentence. ‘The children proved themselves very capable in Rome and this won’t be too arduous, I promise.’

  ‘It’s your call,’ Fitz said, not missing the smug look on Kensy’s face.

  ‘Why do these kids need watching? Who are they?’ Kensy asked.

  Song returned with several mugs of tea on a tray. ‘Ma’am,’ he said, offering one to Cordelia.