Page 22 of The Valiant (Spy Girl 4)
"About what?"
"You know I'm not supposed to tell you this stuff."
"Okay, that's fine," I say, grabbing the phone out of his backpack, powering it off, and then removing the SIM card.
"You do realize that they could be eavesdropping on every conversation you have. If you continue with the phone, we'll have to start traveling apart for our missions. I prefer not to have my every move tracked by The Society."
"They aren't listening to us," he scoffs, but then he purses his lips, and I can tell he's finally thinking it all through. "They told us that it's their emergency response system. If something dangerous happens in the world, say a terror attack, they will notify everyone and check on the safety of their members. It goes the other way, too. Like, if you ever need help, they will be there for you."
"Do they know about the backpacks?"
"If they do, they haven't told the group. Do you really think The Society is bad?"
"Our mother was looking into the history of the group before she was killed. I'd say that's a pretty good indication that things aren't all on the up and up. When you were at the meeting, did you notice anyone special? Like, in other secret societies, there's a hierarchical system. You have to earn their trust and work your way to the upper echelon. Has anyone mentioned it to you? There's got to be a governing body of some sort, elected or chosen."
"The trustees," he says. "They are the elders in the group. Their role is imparting wisdom, choosing the relevant topics for each meeting, group organization--things like that."
"And who controls the phones?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I don't know the answer to that. I assume the trustees."
"How many of them are there? Did you meet any? Did they meet privately while you were there?"
"Malcolm Prescott is a trustee. They were getting together later today to discuss topics for our next meeting."
"Ari! Why didn't you stay and spy on them? You're supposed to find stuff out. Our father was part of the group, and everyone goes on about how brilliant he was and how he questioned everything. You won't get in trouble by asking. They will find it endearing; they won't think you are interrogating them."
"Look, you're just going to have to trust me on this. There is nothing sinister going on in this group."
"When is the next meeting?"
"That's the other thing the phone is for," he says. "If I don't keep the phone on, we won't know where it is or anything else they know."
"It could blow our cover," I argue.
"We don't have a cover!" he yells back. "We are Huntley and Ari Von Allister. Period. You need to start acting like it."
"Oh, that's it? You find out you really are the heir to billions and get invited to some ritzy all-boys' club, and now, you're too good for the rest of it? Fine. I'll let Black X know you're out and that I can't work with you anymore. I'd appreciate your discretion regarding the matter. I'd hate to have to kill my own brother."
"You'd kill me?" he asks, getting in my face.
"There are bigger things at stake here than just you and me."
"Right, it's all about you and Lorenzo now."
"My feelings for him have nothing to do with what's going on in the world. And he is in fact my mission."
"I met with Intrepid this morning," he says, "and before you ask, I did not take The Society phone with me. He told me about your visit to the museum. How it was as much of a dead end as the rest of the photos your mother sent you. He has real intel on this nuclear situation that we have to act on. You need to get your head in the game now and out of the past. Who gives a shit right now about the Trojan War?"
"It's not the Trojan War," I mumble. "It's what led to it." I hold my hand up, so he won't speak, and I close my eyes.
"What's the big deal about this statue other than it was very brave of him to rescue his dad and son?" I asked our tour guide.
"It's not just about the statue. It's what happened before that's so incredible--how they won."
"How they won?" I asked, intrigued.
"The Greeks and the Trojans had been waging war for quite some time. Even with the help of the gods, the Greeks couldn't overtake the Trojans. Legend says that Odysseus came up with the idea of building a great wooden horse, hiding their elite force inside it, and then fooling the Trojans into bringing it into the city as a trophy--proof that they had defeated the Greeks. The Greeks dropped off the horse, which was the emblem of the city of Troy, and then pretended to desert the war. They left behind one man, who persuaded the Trojans that the horse was an offering to the goddess of war, Athena, and should be accepted. Once the horse was inside the gates, the soldiers waited until nightfall, emerged from the horse, opened the gates, and let in the Greek army."
"So, they tricked them," my mom said, smiling at me.
"Yes," the tour guide said.
"So, when they talk about a Trojan horse virus on the computer--" my mom added.
"It comes from this?" I said.
"Exactly. Trojan horse now refers to subversion introduced from the outside."
"I'm the Trojan horse," I stutter, realization hitting me.
"What do you mean?"
"Black X built the perfect Trojan horse. Me. Well, us. We're intended to undermine The Society and destroy it from within."
"I think you're wrong about that. Trojan horse was one of the words on your mom's list. We weren't there then."
I sigh, knowing he's right. Merde.
He pats my back. "I'm in this with you. Don't ever question that, okay?"
"What do you think the Trojan horse on my mom's list means?" I ask, nodding in agreement.
"By process of elimination, we know that Lorenzo the Magnificent and his brother, Giuliano, created The Society and dreamed of Arcadia. It's possible that the goal of the original Society was to create a perfect world. Their idea of Arcadia, now that I think about it, is sort of what The Society still thinks today. They want to guide the world to keep it great."
"Great is different than perfect and idyllic."
"True," he says. "So, that means your mom either thought The Society had a Trojan horse plan or that one of the men listed was a Trojan horse planted in The Society to bring it down from the inside. I think we can presume now that person was not the former president since he ordered the hit on your mother."
"So, that leaves us with Harrison McClellan."
"Either he's on our side or both men were in cahoots."
"Wait! The Trojan horse could have been Alessandro, right? He was going to bring down Montrovia from the inside, just like Ophelia had planned."
Ari's expression goes from stunned to thoughtful and ends with agreement. "I think you're right. Your mom buried the dollar bill. That was the clue." He nods some more. "Yes. I think we've figured it out."
"Well, we still don't know how they will do it now. But I'd say, besides Marquis Dupree, we need to get to know everything we can about Harrison McClellan."
"Agreed. But, first, we have to go see some jewelry. Who knows? Maybe there is a clue there."
"Ari, you know there is."
He gives me a cat-ate-the-canary grin and shrugs.
Upon arrival in London, we are met by our old friend William Gallagher, otherwise known as Intrepid.
"Did you get the invite?" is the first thing out of his mouth.
"Yes, of course," I tell him, glancing down at the invitation I received while we were in the air. "Tonight. Six o'clock."
"Perfect. I have a car waiting to take us to the museum."
"We enjoyed the ride in your plane as well," I say with a grin. "Speaking of that, Ari, we're going to buy one of our own."
"What?"
"I want a plane and pilot on call twenty-four/seven. Actually, never mind. I'll set it up myself. Let's go see what I can remember."
While we're in the car, I send a text to Lorenzo.
Me: Just wanted to let you know that we've arrived in London. Question: How hard is it to purchase a plan
e and find a pilot/crew I could pay well enough to be on call twenty-four/seven?
I let out a little sigh when I see his name instantly pop up along with the little dots that indicate he's typing his reply. I know I should change his title to The King. Or Lorenzo. Or use an adorable nickname.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It's been just thirty-five days since I was sent on my first mission. Seventeen days since M was killed. Eleven days since I agreed to a formal courtship with Lorenzo. And exactly 2,218 days since my mom died. The time line is crazy when I think about it. All that time. You'd think, after the Alessandro plan didn't work, that the idea would have died along with him. He's dead, my mom and dad are dead, Ares Von Allister is dead, the former president and his son are dead along with Lorenzo's father, uncle, and two cousins; anyone who knew me at Blackwood; and Ari's family.
