Feel the Fear. Lauren Child
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had been around five months now since Hitch had walked through the Redforts’ front door and taken up work in their stylish modern home under the guise of ‘household manager’. Ruby’s mom still insisted on introducing him as the butler, even though Hitch had on many occasions more than hinted that he would prefer her not to.
This kind of undercover work would ordinarily be beneath someone of Hitch’s status, but Ruby Redfort was no ordinary assignment. The reason: she was the brightest code breaker to step into Spectrum since the late Bradley Baker. Bradley Baker had begun his career as a boy, had died a man, and was to this day a hero mourned by every agent at Spectrum. Bradley Baker was a legend and – to Ruby – a pain in the derrière.
It was hard to outdo a dead super-agent, but Ruby was certainly in the business of trying. She was ambitious; not just determined to outclass Baker’s code-breaking ability, but also to become at least as good a field agent. Whether she would or not remained to be seen.
So Hitch, for now, was her official protector. He had been a field agent for a long time now and was highly trained in many disciplines. It hadn’t exactly been his idea of a whole bunch of fun. Watching over a school kid was not without its frustrations, particularly a school kid with a big mouth. But Ruby grew on him. That was the thing about her – you just found yourself wishing she were there even when you wanted her to go jump in a lake.
She was sharp as a tack and keen as a knife; determined, hardworking, loyal and – luckily – pretty funny with it. There were few Spectrum agents Hitch could say all that about.
Hitch got a beep on his watch. He took the call through his earpiece and Ruby had no idea what was being said. All she knew was that three seconds later they were heading back in the direction they had come and were now making their way once again to the downtown city centre.
‘What’s the deal?’ asked Ruby.
‘I guess Spectrum are ramping up security,’ said Hitch. ‘They’ve moved the “way in” again.’
‘Something happened?’ she asked.
‘Something’s always happened,’ he replied.
Downtown all the buildings were tall, even the short ones. Imposing heavy-stone department stores, offices, government buildings, banks and apartment blocks. Skyscrapers rose up hundreds of feet, and when you looked up the city tapered away into blue. The older Twinfordites often referred to this part of the city as Mini Manhattan or Little-L.A., because it bore a certain resemblance to both; a sort of mixture of uptown New York and downtown L.A. Although in terms of square mileage it was not on the same scale as either.
The buildings were by and large attractive, many dating back to the 1920s and 30s. There were newer ones of course, all glass and steel, but when one stood in just the right spot and looked upwards beyond the modern street signage and billboards, one could imagine Twinford City past. This was why downtown Twinford was often used for feature films depicting another age, when 1930s mobsters screeched through the streets and elegantly dressed couples danced through the night.
This part of town was an area that Ruby loved – it was exciting somehow to lose one’s self, to become anonymous, in the crisscrossing streets; ant-like to someone looking down from the top of the gargantuan architecture.
Hitch parked underneath the building known as the Schroeder, in a single empty space among the seemingly endless rows of stationary cars. There was nothing to indicate that this one lone parking spot had been reserved for Hitch’s silver convertible, but Ruby got the impression that somehow it had. The car park ramps spiralled down below them and Ruby wondered just how many vehicles were sitting under this vast building.
‘1,500,’ said Hitch, as if reading her thoughts. ‘1,517 if you count the maintenance team’s trucks. All parked on three underground levels under seventy-seven floors of concrete, steel and glass. Makes the mind boggle, doesn’t it?’
‘Makes the mind wonder if you shouldn’t get out more,’ said Ruby. ‘Maybe call up some of those “fun friends” of yours, live a little.’
They climbed out of the car and walked across to the elevator. Someone had scratched a tiny image of a housefly next to the ‘down’ button, and there was a trail line etched into the steel of the doors as if the fly had just buzzed out. The doors opened and Ruby and Hitch stepped in. Hitch snapped open what seemed to be an invisible panel, pressed some digits and the doors behind them closed and the doors in front of them opened. They exited. On the other side was a dusty old service elevator. Hitch clanged open the concertina metal gate and they stepped into the rough wide box, punched the button marked “−8” and a second or seven later they began to move unsteadily towards the bottom of the elevator shaft, the dark lit up by a single naked light bulb that swung above them, casting eerie shadows as they descended.
How many would guess that this tired-looking elevator with its mean light source might lead to one of the world’s most sophisticated intelligence operations? Well, Ruby Redfort might; she had seen it all before.
WHEN THE DOORS OPENED THEY WERE IN A VERY DIFFERENT SPACE: huge, subterranean and sleek. No dust, no cobwebs, no bugs – of either variety.
‘So what exactly does our boss want to talk to me about?’ asked Ruby.
‘It’s not my business to say,’ said Hitch.
Ruby hadn’t seen LB, the head of Spectrum 8, since before the whole Blue Wolf mission had kicked off.
The thing was, by the time Ruby had been helicoptered off Wolf Paw Mountain and rushed to the emergency room, LB had had her own crisis to take care of; she’d been called away on urgent duty and unable to attend Ruby’s official debrief. That task had been passed to another agent.
‘Will she be in a good mood dya think?’ said Ruby, knowing this was about as likely as LB showing up in a pink trouser suit – LB only ever wore white.
Hitch didn’t answer. He just pointed to a waiting area, with sleek white chairs.
HITCH: ‘Wait here kid.’
RUBY: ‘OK.’
HITCH: ‘Here? You got that?’
RUBY: ‘Uh huh.’
HITCH: ‘That’s a yes, right?’
RUBY: ‘Uh huh.’
HITCH: ‘You’ll be called in about fifteen, OK?’
RUBY: ‘OK.’
HITCH: ‘Don’t move.’
RUBY: ‘Got it.’
Fifteen minutes, thought Ruby. Enough time to drink a soda. And, she walked off in the direction of the Spectrum canteen.
She got herself a can of Fizz and sat down on one of the stylish chairs arranged around one of the many cool-looking tables, all lit by low hanging lights. The effect was cosy and conspiratorial. The Spectrum canteen was no ordinary work cafeteria – like all things Spectrum, it gave the impression of being very pleased with itself.
Ruby took out her book of Rules, a small magenta pink notebook with the word RULES printed in bright red letters across the front.
She’d had this book of rules since she was four years old and it had grown into quite a list over the years. Seventy-nine of them in fact. Now she had a new rule to add.
DON’T STAND ON A WINDOW LEDGE IF YOU AREN’T COMPLETELY SURE WHETHER THE WINDOW OPENS INWARDS OR OUTWARDS.