Down to the Wire (15 page)

I wondered, as I had before, why they weren’t together. Why didn’t she live at the ranch with us? Why did they even get married?

For hours we zigzagged the coast, pretending to sightsee, each time getting a little closer to the private island. Anyone who might be watching, listening, or have us on radar would assume we were just another group of tourists.

Sitting in the distance, the small island stretched about a half mile long and a quarter mile wide. The centuries-old stone mansion occupied roughly half the island. It stood dark and spooky on the horizon. According to my research, no one lived in the mansion. It was owned by the country of Rissala and rented out for special occasions.

Not that stolen neurotoxin was considered a special occasion.

The sun slipped into darkness. Nalani cut the engine and dropped the anchor.

Wirenut handed me an apple and a cheese sandwich. “Eat this. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.” He sat down beside me, dangling his feet over the side of the boat. “The captain works for us, doesn’t she?”

Biting into my apple, I shrugged. In Ushbania I’d been the only one who didn’t know Nalani was on our side. I hadn’t suspected anything and didn’t find out until the very end that she was one of us.

Silly to admit, but I liked being in the know this time around.

Clearly, though, Wirenut was more perceptive than me.

We finished our food and continued sitting, patiently waiting,
staring at the dark water until TL touched our backs.

He tapped two fingers to his left shoulder.
Time to go.

Behind him, Nalani opened the cooler, revealing equipment piled inside. She handed Wirenut and me black Velcro belts. “Tool belt. Strap these to your thighs so they’re hidden.”

Leaning in, Wirenut smiled. “I knew she worked for us,” he whispered.

In our wet suits,
we flutter-kicked our way through the dark ocean. Wirenut first, me second, and TL brought up the rear.

With our rebreathers, no bubbles trailed upward. Water plugged my ears, permitting me to hear only my heartbeat and slow deep breaths.

Wirenut extended his arms out to his sides, indicating in ten seconds we would pass through the opening in the invisible fence.

Through my night goggles, I kept my vision focused on Wirenut’s fins.
One misstep rigs the mansion to explode.

Talk about pressure.

We made it through the fence and continued underwater around the island to the east side. The sandy ocean floor rose gradually until we swam in only ten feet of depth. Our slow ascent decompressed our bodies.

We exited the water and stripped our diving gear, then piled it on the sliver of rocky beach.

Still in our wet suits, we jogged over the flat rocks to the mansion’s east wall. Between the fourth and fifth windows, Wirenut gazed up five stories to the roof. He leaned to the right a little and tilted his head.

He placed his ear against the wall, moved a few feet to the left and listened there, then went back to his original spot. From his vest he pulled four pressurized suction cups. Two he strapped to his knees and two he held in his hands. TL and I did the same. Air release controlled the suction, allowing for silent attachment and release. They worked on any surface.

Wirenut turned to us, touched his eye, and held up one finger.
Watch closely. One at a time.

TL and I nodded. Wirenut suctioned onto the stone and began a spiderlike crawl. Left arm, left leg. Right arm, right leg. I scrutinized his form, memorizing his technique and rhythm. At the third story he scooted to the right and continued crawling. At the fifth story he moved back to his original spot.

He made it to the roof and signaled for me.

One misstep rigs the mansion to explode.

With a deep breath I suctioned onto the wall.

[9]

Trying to be a spider
crawling up five stories of stone was
not
as easy as Wirenut made it look.

A week after my Ushbanian mission, I’d seen him using these suction cups at the ranch. I’d played around with them on the side of our two-story, wooden barn, more for fun than anything. But that time wasn’t anything like right now.

Wood versus stone. Big difference.

Two stories versus five. Another big difference.

You’d think I’d have learned by now to expect the unexpected. Maybe years into this secret-agent thing, I’d be so experienced nothing would faze me.

Like TL.

At the third story I stopped to catch my breath. Shutting my eyes, I inhaled the musty scent of stone and blew out slowly through my mouth. Again in deeply through my nose and out my mouth. Like TL had taught me.

Gradually, my thumping heart stilled to a normal putter. Only two more stories to go.

Bruiser would have no problem scaling this wall. She’d already be on the roof doing back flips or some such thing.

I opened my eyes to moldy, moist stone. Ignoring my shaky, fatigued muscles, I used my thumb to depress the button on my right suction cup. A tiny puff of air indicated that the seal was broken. I moved my hand farther up the wall and reattached.

I scooted to the right like I’d seen Wirenut do and then back to the left at the fifth story. Mere feet from the roof, I stopped, my breath rushing in and out, and tilted my head back. My entire body screamed with exertion as I met Wirenut’s eyes.

He lay belly down on the mansion’s roof, his hand stretching out toward me. I inched a little farther up, and he latched onto my forearm.

Oh, thank God.
I’d thought I was in better shape.

With a stifled grunt, he tugged me onto the roof, and I rolled onto my back, gasping for air.

“Shhh,” he reminded me.

Staring at the night sky, I focused on the half moon and concentrated on steadying my breath and heart.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

TL quietly stepped up beside me, breathing normally. As if he’d gone for a leisurely stroll in the park.

I definitely needed more physical training.

Never thought I’d actually think those words.

Swallowing to moisten my dehydrated mouth, I got to my feet and looked around.

Fat brick chimneys dotted the roof. A dozen of them. This mansion must have a lot of fireplaces.

Wirenut stood beside one about three feet tall, looping rappelling wire around a protruding brick. I scanned the haphazardly placed chimneys, wondering how he knew that was the fifth one.

He signaled us, and we wove through the maze to him. Wirenut climbed up and disappeared over the edge. I peeked past the bricks and watched him slip into the darkness.

Well, this is something new.
I’d never rappelled. TL had gone over the procedures in the car on the drive up the coast. But as I mentioned earlier, real life
never
mirrored simulation.

It was impossible to prepare completely for every single situation. I was such a novice, thrown into these missions quite unexpectedly. Eventually, I’d have the skills needed.

TL touched my shoulder and then tapped his watch.
Go.

He had faith in me, so that had to count for something. I did do all right on the Ushbanian mission. Well, aside from a few mishaps.

I slipped on night-vision goggles, climbed up the chimney, and attached hand grips to the rappelling wire like TL had told me to. Folding my legs around it, I slowly slid down the passage. The cushioned hand grips did most of the work. I just had to hold on. For once, something physical came easy for me.

Through my goggles, I made out gray shades of bricks and cobwebs. No spiders. This passage had to be at least six feet wide. I hadn’t imagined chimneys would be so roomy.

About twenty feet later I landed with a soft thud on the fire grate. No ashes. No coals. No wood. No signs that a fire had ever been built.

Squatting down, I stepped from the oversized opening into an empty room. No furniture. No decorations. Nothing.

Wirenut stood in the center of the room staring at a spot above me. I turned. The double-bladed lion-engraved sword hung right above the fireplace, a few feet from my head.

The sword Wirenut’s uncle had used to kill his entire family.

The sword holding the final message that would lead to the stolen neurotoxin.

TL stepped from the fireplace and immediately looked up to see what Wirenut and I stared at.

“Don’t,” Wirenut mumbled, “touch it.”

TL and I turned back to Wirenut.

He pointed to the row of marble tile leading straight toward him. “Come to me. Do not step off the tile.”

One misstep rigs the mansion to explode.

I went first down the row of foot-wide tile, and TL followed. We met Wirenut in the middle.

Wirenut tapped his fiber-lit goggles. “I can tell that this,” he indicated the circular change in marble pattern about five feet in diameter, “is the safe zone. Do not step from it. As soon as I start working, that tile you walked down won’t be available. It’ll be covered with lasers.”

TL replaced his night-vision goggles with fiber-lit ones. “Put yours on.”

I followed his instructions. Yellow lasers flicked into view, completely filling the room, zigzagging inches from our circular safe zone and the path we’d come down.

Jeez, and to think if I’d lost my step I would’ve been fried.

A blue glow enveloped the sword. As Wirenut contemplated it, I took the mini-laptop from my vest.

“Son of a—” he breathed. “We activated that when we came down the fireplace.”

“What is it?” TL asked.

“It’s a pulse bomb. Incinerates anything with a heartbeat.”

My whole body jerked to attention. “That means…that means…” I swallowed. I knew about pulse bombs. They were the most lethal ones on the market. “That means every human and animal within two hundred miles will be a pile of ashes if we trigger it.”

Wirenut nodded.

TL cupped Wirenut’s shoulder. “You can do this. Don’t focus on the pulse bomb. Concentrate on doing what you do best, and we’ll make it out alive.”

TL turned to me. “Don’t you think about it either. Get the laptop ready. Focus.”

I barely heard him over my hammering heart.

“Both of you, we’ve made it this far knowing the mansion could explode. This pulse bomb is just another obstacle. Let’s do it.”

Yeah, but everyone within two hundred miles? That meant people back in the capital city, Katarina, Nalani—

Suddenly, the door to the room opened. We whipped our
heads around to the right. The burglar, the imposter Ghost, stood in the threshold. One step inside and the lasers would fry him.

“You don’t want to do this. Not now.” Wirenut indicated the sword. “That’s a pulse bomb.”

“I know.” The burglar pointed a tiny silver disc at the sword. He pressed the top of the disc, and the blue glow went out. “Pulse bomb’s not a problem anymore. I’m here for the sword.”

Something digitized his voice, masking its real sound, just like before.

“What is that?” Wirenut asked. “Where did you get that?”

The burglar slipped the disc inside his vest. “You’re not the only one gifted in the homemade-electronic-contraption department.”

“B-but…”

“What? Don’t like being shown up?”

“Ignore him,” TL whispered. “Focus on the sword. We’ll get him later.”

“Oh, and one last thing.” The burglar slipped another object from his vest. A slim black square.

He pointed it at each corner of the room. On the last corner, the yellow lasers flicked out. Pink ones immediately took their place, zigzagging everywhere but the circular safe zone, the area in front of the fireplace, and the entrance to the room.

The burglar stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Wirenut sighed. “Great.”

I shifted. “What is it?”

“Contortion lasers. Named that because you have to be a freakin’ gymnast to get through them.” Wirenut took off his vest, leaving him dressed in only his wet suit, hood, and goggles. “No equipment needed. Just like the others, they’ll definitely fry you.”