Blues revenge, p.4
Blue's Revenge, page 4
This was not their usual assignment.
Max looked at her watch again and wondered what she was doing here. She was a good agent, one of Spyforce’s best, yet here she was nestled behind a blackberry bush playing babysitter to a spoilt rich kid.
‘Ow!’ Her finger sprang into her mouth. ‘If I get stabbed one more time by a thorn, I’m going to sink the next time I go swimming.’
Linden smirked and looked away, deciding it was best not to answer. Max’s mood was nosediving with each thorny prick and even if he’d tried to sympathise, he knew he would only make it worse.
The kid they were guarding was Tobias Reardon, the son of an important foreign minister visiting England to discuss a peace plan aimed at settling decades of Middle East conflict. Many held high hopes for its success, but it was so controversial, the government feared opponents of the plan would do anything they could to ruin the talks. Even kidnap family. And because Tobias had an unfortunate habit of disappearing to explore his new surrounds, Max and Linden were put on assignment to make sure he didn’t disappear for good.
With his miniature, high-powered binoculars, Linden peered into the Safe House Tobias and his family had been placed in. Tobias was reading, while his mother sat at her computer. Nothing suspicious. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The house was an unassuming, three-storey London terrace that sat at the edge of a small green square speckled with benches, trees and neatly swept paths. The sun shone, birds tweeted, old couples strolled and Max counted the wasted minutes of her life that might as well have been flushed down the toilet.
‘If I’d wanted an assignment this exciting, I could have asked to have my brain removed and sent to Siberia.’
‘I hear it’s a nice place.’ Sometimes Linden couldn’t help himself. He was right, though. Answering didn’t help Max’s mood.
‘Is that right? Well …’
‘Hold on, Max.’ Linden refocused his binoculars and flinched at what he saw. ‘He’s gone.’
The words sat in the air between them like a bad smell.
‘Gone?’
‘He must have slipped out.’
When Harrison had given them the mission, he told them that if anything happened to Tobias the security of the whole country, even the world, would be in terrible danger.
Then Linden spied something else. ‘That car. Look.’ A black sedan with tinted windows was parked near Tobias’s house.
‘And I’ll bet that’s the owner.’
Linden pointed towards a tracksuited man sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper. Max and Linden each pulled a silver pen from their pocket. They were designed by Quimby, Spyforce’s head inventor, and contained darts that were guaranteed to put a person to sleep in seconds.
‘We’ll use these to immobilise Tobias and get him to the Spyforce vehicle.’ Max took a brief look at the ice-cream van that was parked in front of them. It may have looked slow, but beneath the old-fashioned exterior was a super-fast car capable of speeds of up to 240 kilometres per hour.
‘If we’re quick, we can get to Tobias before he’s taken on a joyride he may never return from.’ Linden frowned. ‘If we can find him …’
‘There he is.’ Max spied their young charge carefully creeping along the side of the house, but then her breath caught in her throat. ‘Toby?’ What was he doing here? He was in danger. Max had to save him.
But as they were about to leap out from behind the blackberry bush, the doors of the sedan burst open and two men leapt out, grabbed Tobias and dragged him inside.
‘The man with the baseball cap was a decoy,’ Linden realised angrily. ‘Let’s go!’
The two spies ran to the ice-cream truck, and just as they jumped in, Max saw Toby’s sad face peering out of the rear window of the black car. Seconds later, he was gone.
Max gulped down a rising lump of fear as she started the truck. They had to rescue Toby or the world was doomed to chaos, to madness, to unspeakable horrors, to
‘What are you still doing in bed?’ The shrieking cry jolted Max from her nightmare so that she slammed her face into her wooden bedhead.
Her thoughts raced in circles as she tried to focus on what was happening and who the white-gowned person at her door was, with hair swept into a congealed foam pile, face plastered with thick green goo and screaming like a wounded banshee.
‘I woke you up an hour ago. Why are you still asleep? We won’t get there at all at this rate!’
Then she realised. It was her mother. Max had been woken up earlier, but she must have fallen back to sleep. And on the day of the wedding!
‘I’ll make sure she gets up this time.’ Linden snuck under the arm of Max’s mother’s fluffy white dressing-gown.
‘I’ll be ready. Don’t worry.’ Max sat up, rubbing her sore head.
Her mother’s eyes then landed on Linden’s hair, which stared back at her like a hedgehog after a bad fright.
‘You are going to do something with that … aren’t you?’ she said with an obvious streak of horror in her voice.
But before Linden could answer, she spun from the room. ‘We’ll never make it!’ she wailed, her voice fading, until she suddenly spring-loaded herself back into the room and onto Max’s bed. She held her daughter’s face in her hands.
‘I love you, sweetie, you know that, don’t you?’ She blinked away some sudden tears and hugged Max firmly before leaping from the bed and continuing on her cyclonic way.
‘When should I tell her I have done my hair?’ Linden stood in front of the mirror and tried to make a few minor adjustments to his wild hair. ‘I spent a good ten minutes on this do.’ He turned back to Max. ‘Everything’s normal around here, then?’
‘Yep.’ Max sighed. ‘Normal as it gets. One minute she’s relaxed and happy, the next she’s acting like she’s been let loose from the jaws of hell.’
‘Makes for an interesting life.’
‘If by interesting you mean everything sane has been kidnapped.’
Kidnapped … Max’s face fell as she remembered her dream. When she’d called Toby’s house the day she saw him in the park, his aunt told her he was staying late at school. Max knew that wasn’t true but had no choice other than to thank her and hang up. ‘Linden, what would your mum say is happening when you dream about someone?’
He offered her a fake look of embarrassment. ‘Max, are you dreaming about me, again? I guess it’s not your fault, I am a good-looking man.’
Max gave Linden a pained smile. ‘Your mum must have had a theory on it.’
‘She said it meant you had something to sort out with that person. Why?’
‘Nothing.’ She tried to shake the thought of Toby out of her head. Today was going to be hard enough without him on her mind. ‘There’s no getting out of this wedding, is there?’
‘Not unless your mum suddenly comes down with amnesia and forgets who you are.’ Linden stood up to leave. ‘Just remember, we’ve survived plane crashes, death chambers and rooms of jelly and worms, so we can survive your mother’s wedding.’
He gave her a grin that was a Linden special. ‘See you downstairs, chief.’
‘Okay,’ she said, before adding, ‘You look good, by the way.’
Linden ran his hand through his billowing hair. ‘It’s my natural beauty.’
‘And I thought it was the suit,’ Max offered.
‘That’s only part of it.’ He sighed grandly and left.
Max smiled. It was like Linden had this zone of calm all around him – and she knew she needed as much calm as she could get if she was going to make it to the end of the day.
Especially wearing a dress.
She opened her wardrobe door. There it was. Hanging innocently. Staring at her like what she was about to do was no big deal. It wasn’t that Max didn’t like the dress, it was more that she and dresses in general didn’t get along. Her mother had even let her choose it. It was red with a deep crimson pattern of Japanese script embroidered along the neck and hem. Simple, discreet and hopefully would attract very little attention.
Max steeled herself. People wear them every day, she thought. How hard could it be?
At that moment, the three stylists her mother had booked came streaming through her door carrying bags, brushes and hairdryers, as if they were shoppers from an end-of-year sale. For the next hour, Max felt like she’d been pulled into the arms of a hyperactive octopus. She was prodded, brushed, sprayed and covered in face creams, powders and make-up, before being tugged into her dress. The three stylists then proudly held up a mirror.
‘What do you think?’
Max looked down at the floor. ‘Good. Fine. Thanks,’ she mumbled.
She knew no matter how hard they tried, they weren’t going to create a princess out of what they had to work with. And just as quickly as they’d swirled into the room, they gathered their things and left.
Max sighed and raised her head towards the mirror, dreading what she would see. First she saw her red sandals, then the dress. She raised her head a little further and finally she saw her hair, which had been curled just a little.
She stood straighter, happy that what she saw wasn’t a total disaster. ‘Linden’s right. We have dealt with much scarier things than this.’
She took her Spyforce medallion from a hidden compartment in her chest of drawers and tucked it into her dress so it was completely concealed. She then cautiously opened her bedroom door. Down the hall, her mother’s room was spilling over with people and noise. Max watched as designers, hairdressers and men arranging flowered bouquets fussed and fawned. She walked away quickly before she could get sucked inside, and made her way downstairs.
Outside the lounge room door, she heard the sound of Ben and Eleanor’s laughter. It was the sanest noise she’d heard all morning and she rushed in to join them, but when she opened the door, the laughter was replaced by a shocked silence and the three dazed faces of Ben, Eleanor and Linden.
Max’s bravado fell from her like a collapsing building. ‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’
No-one said anything. They just kept staring.
The dress that felt fine before now sat on Max’s skin like it was made of prickles.
‘Someone needs to say something. Quickly,’ she cautioned.
Eleanor scooped her up among her layers of white linen skirts and shawls. ‘Max, you look so … beautiful.’
Ben wore a goofy smile. ‘Every man there won’t be able to stop looking at you. Lucky I’ll be there to fend them off.’
But there was one person who hadn’t said anything.
Linden. He looked like he’d been slapped in the face with a wet fish.
‘Doesn’t she look like a pearl, Linden?’ Ben asked pointedly.
Still Linden just stood there. He opened his mouth and tried to say something, but nothing came out. Ben slapped him on the back as if he’d stopped breathing, and finally Linden said, ‘You look amazing.’
Max just managed to hold back a huge smile. ‘Thanks, but you don’t have to say that.’
‘I know.’
Linden kept staring. Ben and Eleanor exchanged a cheeky smile.
‘Max!’ Max’s mother’s footsteps bounded down the stairs. ‘Are you ready yet?’ She barged into the lounge room with a large white smock over her dress. Half her hair was curled and dotted with flowers, while the other half was still in heat curlers.
Max turned and straightened out her dress, hoping her mother would like how she looked.
‘Oh, hello everyone. Good, you’re ready. Help yourselves to anything in the kitchen. Can’t stay. The cars are almost here.’
She turned and disappeared.
Ben turned to Linden. ‘You in?’
For once, the mention of food didn’t catch Linden’s attention.
‘Linden?’ Ben asked as Linden’s staring at Max went on. ‘Food?’
‘Oh yeah. Right,’ he mumbled and followed Ben out.
Max watched the space where her mother had just been standing and sank into the lounge, feeling small and invisible. ‘She didn’t say anything.’
Eleanor sat beside Max and took her hand. ‘You really do look lovely.’
There were times when Max guiltily wished it was Eleanor who was her mum. ‘I don’t mean to sound horrible, but are you sure you two are sisters?’
Eleanor stroked her niece’s cheek. ‘She’s just distracted. It’s a big day.’
‘I bet you weren’t like this when you got married.’
Eleanor smiled and stayed silent. Max knew this meant she wasn’t.
‘What was your wedding like?’
‘Ben and I got married in bare feet on a beach down the coast. We giggled so much we had sore cheeks for three days.’
Max could see it all. No fuss, no stylists and no expensive dresses, just Eleanor and Ben looking like they always did, except maybe Ben would be dressed better.
Then it struck her. ‘How come you never had kids?’
‘We wanted to but we couldn’t.’ A brief flicker of sadness rippled across Eleanor’s face. ‘Besides, we’ve got you.’
Sometimes Eleanor said things that made Max want to cry, and this was one of those times. Max flung herself into the white, cottony layers of Eleanor’s shawl, just as Ben and Linden came out of the kitchen carrying giant sandwiches that only just fitted on their plates.
‘That is one well-packed fridge. Linden and I think we might move in for a while if that’s okay.’
Linden sat on the lounge, looking awkward, and bit into his sandwich.
The doorbell chimed from the hall and a panicked call sounded from upstairs. ‘The cars are here!’
A tangle of fuss and high-pitched shrieking erupted as Max’s mother and her followers exploded into the hall. They stopped in front of a hanging mirror as hairdressers finished shaping curls, manicurists put the final buff to nails and makeup artists applied the last strokes of lip gloss and waterproof mascara.
Squeals of laughter followed as they then hurried out the door of the apartment. Eleanor saw Max deflate as her mother passed her without a word. She held her face in her hands and gave her one of her doona-warm smiles.
‘Let’s you, Ben, Linden and I have a fabulous day. Deal?’
‘I’ll be in that,’ Ben chirped in. ‘Especially as I am going to be with the two most beautiful women in the whole place.’ His last word got caught in his throat and Max knew that was a definite sign he was going to cry.
‘It’s true,’ Linden let out in a strange voice that sounded very un-Linden-like.
Oh no, thought Max, they’re both going to cry.
An awkward pause bloated around them like an overfed goldfish. Max was keen to avoid any tears and any more of Linden’s staring, which was starting to freak her out. ‘We’d better get going.’
‘You’re right.’ Ben wiped away a tear and followed Max as they hurried down the stairs to the front of the building.
As Max reached the door to the street, she felt relieved that at least for the rest of the day, all the attention would be on her mother. But as she opened the door of the building, she held her hands up to shield her eyes from the lights of what seemed like a million flashing cameras. Every newspaper and magazine had turned up on their front doorstep to get a glimpse of the happy bride. Or, more likely, didn’t just turn up but were actually invited. Max had thought it was her mother’s wedding but suddenly, in the turning of a door handle, it had become the rest of the world’s.
Max blinked into the blinding white light. She put her foot out to find the next step but missed and was sent free-falling through the swarm of camera operators piled onto the stairs.
‘Max!’ Ben pushed his way through to catch her as she toppled downwards.
None of the photographers moved to help as Max somersaulted through the air and stumbled over every step until she landed with an ungracious and final thud at the bottom.
‘Max?’
Ben’s throat tightened as he shoved the camera clickers out of the way. Max lay at the bottom of the stairs, her arms awry and her legs bent at a horrible angle.
After Max had come to a stop and figured out how to make her hands pull her dress down to cover her brand new undies, she felt someone lift her from the ground.
‘Are you alright, sunshine? Tell me what you feel. Have you broken any bones? Can you breathe okay? Where does it hurt?’
Max wasn’t sure where to start. ‘Everywhere, I think. What happened?’
‘You had a bit of a fall.’
The fall. She remembered the blur of white flashes she had fallen past as she tumbled towards the car, and thought how they’d all make a perfect front cover picture for any one of the magazines and newspapers that were there.
Linden and Eleanor finally managed to push their way through the media pack as Ben helped Max to her feet. ‘Is that okay? Do you feel woozy? Do you know who you are?’
‘I know I’m a total klutz and that I have to get out of here before I do anything else to embarrass myself.’
‘Good.’ Linden smiled in relief. ‘She’s fine.’
Ben helped Max into the main car, where she nestled gingerly beside her mother, who hadn’t seen a thing.
‘Sweetie, there you are,’ she said as if she was seeing Max for the first time that day. ‘Sorry about the cameras. I knew there’d be some media but I never thought there’d be as much as this.’
Max shifted slightly on her seat, her left bottom cheek hurting from where she fell. ‘Will this be on the news tonight?’
‘Probably.’ Her mother said it like it was almost as important as the getting married part. ‘Isn’t that great? All your friends at school will see you.’
Suddenly the pain of sitting down was minuscule compared to the one eating into her pride. Great, she thought, as if the kids at school don’t have enough reasons to make fun of me. Max was stuck in the gloom of future embarrassment when she noticed her mother smiling at her. Not a regular smile, but one she hadn’t seen for ages.
