CHAPTER 13 Code Word Practice #2
I never had figured out what Uncle Alan had wanted with Jack.
For all I knew, he’d been calling about wanting to take his nephew to a baseball game or something.
Still, the sound of the Voice, which I hadn’t heard in weeks, but hadn’t been able to forget, either, had me wondering all over again.
How was it that Jack’s father was the head of what basically amounted to a terrorist cell, but Jack’s uncle was part of the CIA?
And, perhaps more importantly, what did this say about Jack?
The Voice continued laying down the facts in a cool, calm manner, oblivious to my line of thought, and I forced myself to pay attention to the case at hand, tucking all questions and objections concerning good old Uncle Alan neatly away for the time being.
“The data you sent us yesterday has proved invaluable, Brooke. Hector Hassan has been taken into custody, officially as a suspect in Jacob Kann’s death.”
And unofficially, I filled in, because of the calls he’d exchanged with terrorists the night before.
“What about the email address we sent you?” Brooke asked, slightly appeased by the fact that despite demanding to talk to all of us, the Voice had still made a deliberate effort at recognizing her as our leader.
“We’re still tracking down the alias,” the voice answered. “Whoever this guy is, he knows how to cover his tracks.”
Somehow, it escaped everyone’s attention but mine that uncovering tracks like those was more or less my forte.
“In the meantime, you girls don’t need to worry about uncovering the identity of the seller, or the details of the biological weaponry for sale. We’ve got people on that here.”
I could actually see the effort Brooke was putting in to not frowning at that little announcement.
“What we need you girls to do is stay on the remaining TCIs. With Kann dead and Hassan in custody, Amelia and Anthony are our only remaining links to this case. We’ve got agents in the area, but starting at 1500 hours today, I want two of your teams on each of them.
You girls can get closer than we can, and we can’t take any risks.
These people could be dangerous, and until we can identify the threat and neutralize it, tracking the buyers is our only option.
“I want a fifth team staking out the firm and keeping a complete log of who’s coming and who’s going. If someone’s selling a biological weapon in Bayport and Peyton, Kaufman, and Gray doesn’t have a hand in it yet, I think it’s safe to assume that they will soon.”
And here I’d been hoping that my homecoming date’s father wasn’t involved in the national security risk du jour.
“Understood, sir.” Brooke’s tone bordered on sounding military. “We’ll handle it. Have the results come back yet on yesterday’s explosion?”
“We’re expecting the labs back this afternoon, and that leads me to the point of this conference call.
” The voice paused. I was starting to see where Brooke and Co.
got it from. “This case is sensitive, girls. It’s dangerous.
And we’ve officially designated it a Do Not Engage.
Under no circumstances are any of you to engage your marks.
If you see something suspicious, call it in, and one of our teams will take care of it.
Your mission is strictly observational. Have I made myself clear? ”
For a moment, there was silence, and then at Brooke’s nod, the rest of the Squad, minus me, chimed in. “Yes, sir.”
I said nothing. For one thing, I wasn’t exactly keen on speaking in unison, and for another, I wasn’t about to make any promises I couldn’t keep.
“Toby.”
I jumped in my seat. The Voice actually knew my name. And somehow, he had the freaky ability to ascertain that of all of us, I was the one who hadn’t responded.
“Do you understand?”
I contemplated telling him that what I didn’t understand was his familial relationships, but stayed momentarily silent, causing everyone within a three-foot radius to kick me under the table at once.
“Ow!” I cleared my throat. “I mean, yes.” I didn’t throw the sir on the end, but apparently, that was good enough for the Voice.
“Excellent. Report in tonight, and we’ll have more information for you all tomorrow. And girls?”
“Yes?”
“Congratulations on the homecoming nominations. We’re all very proud.”
And with that, the line went dead, and I was left trying to figure out what part of this exchange (aside from the obvious Jack’s uncle factor) had been the most surreal: the official commendation from the government on being nominated for homecoming court, or the fact that Brooke had chosen the poppiest of pop ringtones to signify a call from the CIA.
“Okay, guys. You heard the man. We’ll meet back here for seventh period and head out from there.” Brooke looked down at her watch. “We still have an hour before class starts. Who’s up for tumbling?”
At that point, I realized something. The most surreal part of this entire morning had nothing to do with ringtones or homecoming and everything to do with the fact that I had enough energy and potential frustration built up inside of me that the physical release of tumbling actually sounded good.