Enemy Spy (12 page)

The crowd didn't gasp.

There wasn't even a moment of stunned silence.

No, people
giggled.

And
groaned.

And said, “Oh, poor kid.”

“But I
am,”
I shouted. I swung my backpack off. “And I can prove it!”

People were rolling their eyes.

Tisking their tongues!

The chief was trying to get Sarge to drag me away, but I whipped out my digital camera and scanned back through the pictures I'd taken of the spies and the phony boulder.

“Look!”I said to Sarge. “This is proof! Who else would have these shots?”

Sarge's jaw dropped as I thumbed through the pictures. “Scott!”he said to the chief. “Look at these!”

When Chief Yardland was hanging over my shoulder, too, I said, “The FBI traced Shred-derman to my house, but they took the wrong

computer. Everything's on
my
computer. It's in my bedroom.”

People were starting to whisper.

“My parents and Mr. Green are trying to pro-tect me, that's all. They don't have anything to do with this! Actually, they're pretty
mad
about it! And if you still don't believe me, I can tell you what's in those classified documents! Not what they
mean
or anything, but they're twelve pages of calculations and diagrams of—”

“Enough!”Chief Yardland said. “I believe you!”

Now everyone was talking a hundred miles an hour! The crowd sounded like a giant computer, buzzing for an Internet connection.

Dr. Voss had moved to the front of the crowd. She yelled, “And Mr. Green's the Bouncer, isn't he? I knew it all along!”

I froze. Dr. Voss would fire him!

But before I could figure out what to say, Bubba Bixby came tripping over the CAUTION tape,
yelling, “Mr. Green's not the Bouncer! I am!”

“You?”
Dr. Voss looked from Bubba to me, and back again.

I practically laughed out loud.

I didn't have to explain anything!

Or lie!

It was the truth!

And boy, did it seem just.

“But that doesn't make any
sense,”
Dr. Voss cried. “You
hate
each other!”

“Well,” I said, putting my hand on my new sidekick's shoulder. “The truth is that Bubba here
is
the Bouncer.”

Bubba squared his shoulders.

He stuck his chin forward a little.

Then he cleared his throat and said, “I was only involved
peripherally
with what
transpired
—a fact I didn't want to
disclose
in this
bucolic
setting— but it's true.”He made a muscleman pose with his arms and cried, “I
am
the Bouncer!”

The kids from school all dropped their jaws. They were in total shock over everything!

Except for Trinity. She was bouncing up and down, clapping like crazy. She saw me looking her way and blew me a kiss.

A
kiss.

Do superheroes blush?

This one sure did!

How embarrassing!

Then the questions started flying at us: “What's the kid's name?”“How old are you, son?”“Where do you go to school?”“What gave you the idea for Shredderman?”“Did your parents have any idea you were breaking up a spy ring?”“What if they don't catch the other spy?”“Are you afraid for your life?”

The chief was studying one of the images on my camera. “Look here!”he said to Sarge. “I think we can pull a license plate off of this one!”He headed back to the station house with my cam-era, calling, “Get the kid inside! We've got work to do!”

Sarge stepped up to the podium and said, “I'm sorry, but obviously things are developing at a very rapid rate. We'll keep you apprised as things unfold, and I'm sure Nolan will be happy to tell you more about his escapades as Shredderman when the dust settles.”He turned to me and grinned, “Isn't that right, Shredderman?”

I said, “Sure,”then stepped closer to the micro-phones and pointed to Chatty Adams. “Except for her. I'm not going to talk to her.”

Some people in the crowd snickered. I heard one say, “He's smart, all right.”

I fished the two battery packs out of my backpack and looked right at Chatty. “Missing these?”

She let out a gargly scream, and Roy and her cameraman had to hold her back.

I tossed the batteries on the ground and said, “Next time you think you can call someone a nerd, a geek, a fatso, a brat, or a wannabe Barbie and get away with it, remember the kids from Cedar Valley.”

“I didn't call them those names!”she cried, looking around. “I swear, I didn't!”

Sarge led me away from the microphones, but we'd only gone a few steps toward the station door when I heard something amazing.

It started with one voice. A voice I'd recognize anywhere.

Bubba Bixby's.

Then other kids chimed in.

Then adults!

It was getting louder… and louder… and louder!

By the time Sarge and I hit the station door, the whole crowd seemed to be chanting it.

“Shred-der-man! Shred-der-man! Shred-der-man!”

I stood there for a second and just listened.

It was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.

They set my mom and dad and Mr. Green free, and boy, were they relieved! And when I told Mr. Green about Bubba and Dr. Voss, he about died laughing. “So she doesn't know?”he finally asked.

“Nope. And we're not telling.”

“You and Bubba.”He chuckled. “Who'd have guessed.”

I laughed, too. “Not me, that's for sure!”

When we were finally done answering ques-tions for the police and the FBI, all the reporters wanted to ask me questions. Dad told me I should give Harry Kane first shot at an interview, so that's what I did.

After all, he'd been pretty nice to us kids.

Of course, my secret identity was shot, but with the news stations talking about the spy ring and Shredderman, I figured I could still put my site to
some
use.

First I posted all the pictures I had of the spy guy, with a caption:

IF YOU SEE THIS MAN, CALL THE FBI. HE'S AN

ENEMY SPY!

I also put up the movie clip I'd taken of Chatty Adams calling us names.

Thought she could deny it, huh?

Ha!

I sent an e-mail with the
Shredderman
link to an executive at her network, and wrote:

This is why your station didn't get the story.

Yours in Truth and Justice,

Shredderman

We haven't seen Chatty Adams on the air since.

But even though I still had the site, it wasn't like there really was a Shredderman anymore.

Shredderman was… over.

I didn't really miss it at first. I was too busy! The FBI came over and wiped the secret docu-ment scans out of my computer.

FBI guys are quick on the computer. Wow!

Then they kept someone posted at our house because they thought the spy guy might come looking for me.

But two days later, a fourth-grade girl spotted the spy guy at a gas station in New Mexico. She'd recognized him from pictures she'd seen on my Web site and called the FBI!

How cool is that!

But mostly I didn't miss having a secret identity because people at school seemed to like my
real
identity. Kids greeted me with, “Hi, Nolan,”and “Hey, Shredderman,”and “Dude, you rock!”Everyone was saying how cool I was!

Mom worried that kids were just being nice to me because I was now an official celebrity, but I could tell which ones were kissing up to me and which ones were finally just seeing me for me.

I'm no dummy!

So for the first time in my life, I had people to hang around with at school. People to do assign-ments with. People to eat lunch with!

Having friends is
fun.

But after about a week it started to sink in— Shredderman was toast.

History.

I'd never be able to wear the mask again.

Mom told me I'd find other ways to fight for truth and justice, but boy, doing it as Shredder-man had been so exciting! It made me sad to think that it was over.

Then, one day after school, I was clicking through my site, thinking that it was really time to tear it all down, when my speakers chimed.

I had e-mail.

I clicked on the in-box tab.

It was a message from
Shredderman2.

At first I was confused. Had I accidentally sent myself an e-mail? I opened it and read:

Yo, Shredderman! You've been an inspiration,

man! Check out my site!

Shredderman2.com

Yours in Truth and Justice,

Shredderman2

I couldn't believe my eyes.

Shredderman-
Two
?

Cool!

I clicked on the site. There were only a few pages, but still, it was awesome! The guy had caught someone selling cigarettes in his school's bathroom. Now their dirty deeds were posted on the World Wide Web.

Oh, yeah!

I wrote him back right away—
“Shred on, ShreddermanH Awesome!”
—but just as I sent the message, my speakers chimed again.

More mail.

I blinked at my screen. The new message was from
Shredderdude.

Shredderdude? Cool!

Over the next few weeks, I got messages from kids shredding on bad guys all over the globe! A kid in England was
ShreddermanUK.
Someone in Australia was
ShredderAussie.
There was a
ShreddermanNY
, a
SeñorShredder
, and then

Shredderman,3
and
4,
and
5,
and
6
… the numbers kept going up!

Girls got into it, too. There were Shreddergirls and Shredderchicks and Shredder
babes
… that was kind of embarrassing, but they all wanted the same thing: to help fight for truth and justice.

They also wanted information!

How did I get such close-up shots?

How did I convert my backpack?

What kind of camera did I use?

So I told them everything I could. I gave them ideas! Advice! I told them about my adventures!