Page 15 of The Dauntless (Spy Girl 5)
“Well, how does it feel to be part of a story on the front page of every newspaper around the world without getting any credit?” Intrepid asks me.
“I think you know I prefer it that way.”
“I heard about Lizzie and Lorenzo. I’m sorry. But I am calling with some good news. We’re tearing Dupree’s company apart. Not only did you stop the nuclear threat, but you also helped shut down one of the biggest prescription drug rings in all of Europe.”
“Does that mean I’m gonna get invited to Buckingham Palace, so I can steal a robe of my own?”
“That’s the reason for my call. Because of what you did, I’m being knighted. I think it’s only fitting that you be my guest for the evening.”
“You’re not asking Dr. Kate?”
“That would signal a level of seriousness that I’m not able to commit to.”
“I’d love to go then. When is it?”
“Next Thursday.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll be in town for the Von Allister board meeting and the British Grand Prix. Sir William Gallagher does have a nice ring to it.”
“And how is the mission going?”
“I quit, so—”
“You’re giving up?”
“I’m not giving up. I’m just done with working for Black X. I don’t trust them, so I’m going on a personal mission instead.”
“What is it?”
“Remembering my mother,” I say simply.
“And what about Montrovia?”
“I’ll let Lorenzo and Lizzie handle that.” Yes, it’s hard to hide my snarky tone.
“I can understand your reasoning. So, how are you really? And I’m not talking about Montrovia. You need to tell me what happened with Dupree.”
“Maybe, someday, I’ll tell you, but I’m honestly hoping I will forget before then.”
Intrepid lowers his voice. “I’ve been through it, Huntley. You are good at what you do. Don’t let it shake you. I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”
“If you need someone to save the world again, please, don’t call me.”
“The map you left on Dupree’s desk. The one with eight European locations. They were geographically significant. I’ll leave it at that. If you want back in, let me know. Until then, enjoy Omaha and give Daniel my congratulations on his qualifying so far.”
“William, is British intelligence watching me?”
“No. Why? Are you being watched?”
“Yes, and they are really good, practically a ghost.”
“Trust your instincts and be very careful, Huntley. Holy s—” Intrepid says suddenly. “Hang on.”
“What happened?”
He doesn’t respond, and I wonder if we’ve lost our connection until he comes back on the line.
“There’s been a possible terrorist attack.”
“Where?” I ask, my heart instantly concerned about Montrovia.
“The Strait of Malacca. It’s one of the busiest and narrowest shipping routes in the world. Numerous ships are on fire. Officials from Malaysia, Singapore, and Indonesia are trying to figure out what happened.”
“William, I looked at the map and saw the locations marked were not Montrovia, but I didn’t pay attention to where they were. Is there a pattern?”
“Our strategists seem to think so. If those locations had been hit, it would have devastated key European military installations.”
“Taking away their ability to fight back. If something happened in Montrovia, Europe would be the first to come to its aid, right?”
“Britain and their allies have bases all over the world. No one could stop us. Especially not with a few nuclear backpacks.”
“Maybe, for whatever is planned, they don’t need to stop you, just slow you down.”
“We’ll talk more about this when I see you,” he says quickly. “I have to go. This is going to be a day. We also just got word that the chairman of the International Financial Committee’s plane went down.”
The Ghost’s phone buzzes in his breast pocket with a call from the leader of Black X.
“Two things have just happened simultaneously.”
“I heard about the explosions in the Strait of Malacca,” The Ghost states. “They showed a news update in between heats. What else is going on?”
“The chairman of the International Financial Committee’s plane just went down. He’s dead.”
“Do we care?”
“Yes, we do. It’s not publicly known because the board operates in a behind-closed-door fashion and does not allow the public access to their discussions or decisions, but I happen to know that, last year, the committee passed a resolution allowing the chairman the power to close all the stock exchanges in the world in the case of an impending worldwide financial crisis in extreme cases, such as nuclear war, alien invasion, or any catastrophic event. Upon his death, the vice chair will move up to take his place.”
“Duh, nuh, nuh, nuh,” The Ghost hums, like a movie soundtrack would to show impending doom.
“It’s not funny,” the leader says. “The new chairman is Rutherford Elingston, meaning they have control of Tartus, have successfully shut down the Strait of Malacca, and now not only control the world’s banks through Rut’s family holdings, but also the financial markets. Is it just me, or do you see a trend here?”
“Things are starting to happen fast.”
“And we need to act fast,” the leader states firmly. “We must stop them.”
“If we knew their ultimate plan, we might have a shot at it, but that’s been the problem from the beginning. We don’t know by what means they will create Arcadia. It also doesn’t help that she quit, and you ordered everyone at Blackwood Academy, who might have been able to help, to be killed. Any word on where Josh is? If we could find him, maybe we could use him as leverage against her.”
“No,” the leader says, thinking. “We might have to threaten someone she loves.”
“Are you saying you’re considering killing her brother or the King of Montrovia? You do
that, and she’s going to come after you with a vengeance.”
“That’s exactly what we need from her—vengeance. Only against them. We need to give her a new mission.”
“She visited the Georgia Guidestones yesterday,” The Ghost offers.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” the leader says upon hearing his first good news of the day.
“Because I wasn’t sure what it meant.”
“It means, she hasn’t really quit. She’s gone rogue.”
“Shall I take measures to bring her in?” The Ghost asks.
“Absolutely not,” the leader says, a proud smile forming on his face. “She’s doing exactly as she was trained—to thrive on her own, to avoid emotional entanglements, and to not confuse duty with love. She’ll figure it all out. I know she will.”
“Hopefully, before we’re all dead.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Grandma Spear says to Daniel, pinching the spot on his cheek where his dimple likes to hide, after he just won the one-hundred-butterfly semifinal. “My grandson is on his way to winning more Olympic medals. You know, the newspapers are speculating that, at your age, you could take the record for number of medals for a single athlete in all of history.”
“Nothing like a little pressure,” Daniel teases her back.
“Well, it does impress my gardening and book clubs. No one else can brag about that.”
“Are you saying that you don’t brag about me?” the President of the United States fires back. “I’m the leader of the free world.”
“Maybe, if you led with your shirt off, the ladies would be more impressed,” Grandma says seriously.
“That’s all those hen clubs are for,” Grandpa Spear says. “Gossiping, day-drinking, and ogling young men.”
“Oh, you can’t talk,” Daniel’s mother counters. “There’s a reason all the waitresses at your golf club look the way they do.”
“That’s just good business,” Judge Spear amicably fires back.
“Huntley and I are dating,” Daniel says. “Seriously dating.”
“Well, that’s nice, dear,” Grandma replies. “Thank you for sharing.”
