The Nightmare Vortex (9 page)

Max Remy sank down into the long narrow gondola as it made its way through the winding canals of Venice. She'd been following the sinister Lord Luxor through the watery city for a week, secretly tailing his every move. Max knew he was no good, anyone who wore a long coat and a pencil-thin moustache like that in the twenty-first century couldn't be, but it was up to her to prove it.

Suddenly the gondolier steering Luxor's boat, swung down a small waterway covered by the dark shadows of ominous looking storehouses. Max had to be careful. She couldn't be found out now, not when she was so close to discovering the truth. She paid her gondolier and stepped ashore, where she stealthily crept along the old pathways in the direction Luxor was headed.

Max hid behind a large barrel of olives as Luxor's gondola steered into a dock and he disembarked. Looking furtively around him, he entered a building marked for demolition. With only a few seconds before the door wheezed closed, Max slipped through and watched the next few terrible moments unfold.

Luxor was, as she suspected, head of a major operation planning to hold the world to ransom and now she knew how. In the centre of the storehouse
was a giant machine that, when pointed at the sun, acted as a magnifying glass that would heat the earth's surface, making the oceans rise and spelling doom for the beautiful city of Venice, which would slip quietly into watery oblivion.

It had taken a long time, but she had him now and he wasn't going to get away. But what happened next made her determined resolve falter. Lord Luxor stood before his henchmen and with a deft flick of his wrist, pulled away a latex mask and revealed his true identity. It was Dretch! Spyforce member, with access to all the intelligence needed to carry out his devastating plan. So that's how he did it. Max reached for her radio to call for support, when a thick-necked man grabbed it from her and stamped on it like a helpless bug.

‘Uh, uh, Ms Remy. We've got other plans for you.'

He dragged her in front of Dretch who showed no mercy in his order.

‘Put her in the compactor.'

The compactor! Max was dragged to the giant metal crushing machine. What could she do? She had to escape before she became a human pancake, before Dretch could have his malevolent way, before the whole world was

‘Max, if it's not too inconvenient for you, I'd like you to join us.'

Irene was standing with Linden and Ella, and by the look on their faces they'd been trying to attract her attention for a while.

‘Sure,' Max said, hoping she hadn't done anything embarrassing while she was daydreaming.

‘I need you all to go downstairs and get some things from the storeroom.'

Max's head was alive with all sorts of special potions they'd have to find, like sleep-inducing powders or even poisons for when they found Blue.

‘What kinds of things?' She was ready for anything.

‘Herbs and spices, mainly.'

Max could almost hear the thud of her hopes of being part of a real spy mission crash around her.

‘Herbs and spices?'

‘Yes. But not just any herbs and spices,' Irene added importantly.

This was where it would get interesting, Max thought as she saw herself delicately carrying back exploding thyme leaves or strangulating stinging nettles.

Irene continued as if she was about to tell them an important secret.

‘Super-concentrate organic herbs and spices. They make all the difference between a good dish and a great one.'

‘Oh, real herbs and spices.'

‘Go through that door and keep walking until you reach a round room. There you'll find someone who will tell you where you can find everything you need. And with Blue being a little more informed about us than we'd like, you better take your packs.'

Ella and Linden excitedly fixed their packs as Max dragged herself across the kitchen to hers.

‘Don't forget they are bottomless bags, so you can carry everything back in them. And take this so you don't get hungry.' Irene gave them a small fruit pastry and a wink before adjusting her microphone and moving into the heart of her kitchen.

‘Okay, people. Let's create taste sensations! We've got a lot of hungry spies out there. Now where are those crocodiles and roos?'

There was an increased hustle of chefs and kitchenhands as Max left her pastry and grabbed her pack. She was too nervous to eat and wanted to
be on alert for anything that might lead them to Blue.

They headed through a small stone archway, into a narrow corridor lit by candles nestled in rocky alcoves. As they walked, Max thought about Alex and wished she was with her now. They'd make a good team, she was sure of it. She remembered Alex's brave feats from the
Guide to Spyforce Missions
. Chasing bad guys on icefloes in Norway, diverting speeding trains in Russia, defeating villains on camels in deserts …

‘How does she do it?' she wondered out loud.

Linden finished the last of his pastry. ‘Not sure, but she's good.'

‘I guess it just comes naturally,' Ella added.

‘She must have trained really hard.' Max thought back to her own dismal training sessions and knew she had a long way to go.

‘Yeah, training.'

Linden imagined Irene cooking with some of the world's best chefs, while Max's head was full of images of Alex swinging from suspension bridges, climbing buildings with extra-grip gloves and being lowered into pits of snakes.

‘Yep, Irene sure is one of the best.' Linden sighed, wiping a blob of custard from his cheek.

‘Irene?' Max wasn't sure what he was talking about.

‘Yeah. Have you ever seen anyone so talented when it comes to food?' Ella added.

‘We're in the middle of possibly the most dangerous time for Spyforce and you two are talking about food?'

Linden and Ella realised perhaps Max hadn't been talking about Irene.

‘Who were you talking about?' Linden's puzzled face did nothing to improve Max's bad mood.

‘Alex, of course.'

‘Oh yeah. Alex is great too.'

If this was a test of her patience, Max thought, it had better end soon because she was in big danger of failing.

They came across the round room where Irene said their contact would be. Apart from a few barrels, Max thought it looked like an ancient torture chamber. Thick bars covered thin slits of windows and chains with metal rings hung from every wall.

‘This is the place, but I can't see anyone.' Max's hands shot to her hips as her voice echoed around them, making the room even creepier.

Just then a squirt of something that smelt
like vinegar burst out of one of the barrels labelled
Pickled Onions
and splurted over Max's pants in one long stream. A voice bubbled out of the barrel.

‘Aahh, that's better. I've been in there for two hours and not a peep.'

‘Agent 31? Is that you?' Ella asked, remembering the contortionist talents of the hidden Spyforce agent.

‘Well it isn't Captain Ahab.' The lid of the barrel flew off, splashing even more pickled water over Max.

‘Agent 31!' Ella and Linden called out. The last time they saw him was in a garbage bin in a London park surrounded by soggy sandwiches and mangled banana peel.

‘Irene didn't tell us it was you we were meeting,' said Ella excitedly.

‘Yeah. Yippee.' Max's sarcasm was almost as thick as the food juices were making her trousers feel.

‘How can you hold your breath so long?' Linden was amazed at how Agent 31 could fit into the pickle barrel.

‘I owe that to a course in underwater yoga I did on a small island off Malaysia and, of course, to my Physical Origami lessons I took for added flexibility.' He shook his head, sending bits of pickled onion
scooting through the air like overactive mosquitoes. ‘The ancient arts are mysterious and wise.'

Ella was impressed. ‘I've read about underwater yoga.'

Of course she has, thought Max.

‘They say it's very hard.'

‘Once you've mastered the control of your breathing you feel like a fish.'

‘What, slimy and smelly?' Max asked.

‘No. Able to breathe underwater,' Agent 31 answered, missing her sarcasm completely.

‘Right.' Max sighed.

‘How long can you hold your breath for?' Linden's fascination continued as the strong vinegar smell irritated Max's nose.

‘The longest was in a sea chest at the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea. I was on assignment off the coast of Turkey. Down there for four days I was, before the enemy agents made an appearance.'

‘Four days! You're like Houdini.'

‘He's my cousin,' Agent 31 said like it was nothing.

‘Harry Houdini, the legendary master of escape, is your cousin?' Linden goggled.

‘Twice removed on my mother's side. Nice bloke he was too.'

‘Wow!' Ella and Linden's voices echoed like a pair of annoying galahs.

Max fumed. The very existence of Spyforce was in danger and she was surrounded by people talking about food, yoga and some guy who used to escape from boxes for a living. ‘Are you the agent we're supposed to talk to about supplies?' She tried to get them back onto the mission.

‘That's me. Head of stock dispersal in the lower chambers.'

He said it like it was the most important job he'd ever been given when all Max could see was an agent pickling in some vinegar with a whole lot of onions.

‘What do you know about the mission?'

‘Oh, the mission,' Agent 31's face fell a few notches on the happy meter. A sudden burst of wind toyed with the flame of a candle. ‘It's just about the deadliest threat to Spyforce the organisation has ever known.'

‘And?' Max had to know more. She was desperate to save the Force from a threat she'd helped create.

‘That's all I can say.' Agent 31 scooped a pickled onion skin from behind his ear and went quiet.

Max probed further. ‘Is there anything we
should know so we don't jeopardise the mission?'

‘The only thing I can say is if you see anything untoward, let another agent know immediately.'

It was obvious they weren't going to get any more information out of Agent 31. Suddenly they heard what sounded like miniature applause.

‘Something must be happening upstairs.' Agent 31 reached across to another barrel and slid a secret panel sideways to reveal a TV monitor.

‘I didn't want to miss out on all the fun,' he explained as the screen relayed the events of the awards ceremony upstairs.

All four spies leant into the monitor, but it was Max who leant in closest when she realised what was happening.

‘And it is my great pleasure to announce our annual Lifetime Achievement Award,' said the head of the Awards Committee, speaking from the main stage.

‘This award goes to the agent who has, throughout his or her career, performed consistently above and beyond the call of duty. An agent of extraordinary courage, skill and heroism.'

‘This is my favourite part.' Agent 31 was munching excitedly on a pickled onion.

‘And this year's award goes to …' he paused for
effect as agents all around the room focused on the gold envelope in his hand. ‘… Agent Maximus Dretch from Spyforce.'

There was another burst of muted applause as a spotlight picked through the crowd and found the mangled figure of Dretch. He looked like he'd just had his favourite TV show cancelled. He stood up reluctantly, tugged at his coat and dragged himself to the podium.

‘What, are they crazy? How can they give it to him? What did he ever do to deserve it?' Max gasped.

They watched as the announcer read through an impressive list of achievements. There was also archival footage of Dretch's daring feats.

‘I guess that should answer your question.' Linden looked at the monitor as Dretch begrudgingly prepared himself to make an acceptance speech.

‘I've got nothing to say except thanks to Spyforce and Harrison for being the family I never had.'

Tiny clapping squeezed its way out of the small monitor. Agents stood to create a human guard of honour as Dretch made his way back to his seat.

‘Maybe we were wrong about him.' Linden frowned.

‘Yeah. Maybe he's just a lonely old man who's had some bad experiences and now finds it hard to deal with people,' Ella added.

‘Thanks, Oprah,' Max snapped. ‘Next you're going to tell me all he needs is a really good cry and hug from his mummy and he'll be a changed man.'

She took out Irene's list, eager to stop talking about Dretch.

‘Where do we find the supplies?' Max's head was like a chestnut on an open fire about to explode.

‘Oh right. Through this door, along to the next chamber and down a few steps until you see a guy at a desk. He'll tell you where to find everything.'