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第3章 Access Granted

TOP SECRET DOSSIER

CODE NAME: BIGFOOT

REAL NAME: PEGGY GRUNT

YEARS ACTIVE: 1994-99

CURRENT OCCUPATION: FOREST RANGER

HISTORY: PEGGY'S AWKWARD

STAGE, FROM THE AGE OF TEN

UNTIL FOURTEEN, WAS ONE OF

THE WORLD'S MOST DISTURBING.

SHE HAD ARMS THAT HUNG

NEARLY TO HER FEET AND AN

UNFORTUNATE UNDERBITE THAT

RENDERED MUCH OF WHAT SHE

SAID UNINTELLIGIBLE. SHE CAME

TO THE TEAM'S ATTENTION AFTER

SHE WAS CAPTURED BY HUNTERS

WHILE ON A SCHOOL FIELD TRIP

TO COLLECT LEAVES. WHEN THE

HUNTERS TRIED TO SELL HER TO

A CIRCUS, NERDS RESCUED

HER AND OFFERED HER A

PLACE ON THE TEAM. SHE

WAS A FAITHFUL SPY UNTIL

SHE TURNED FIFTEEN AND

SUDDENLY WENT FROM

UGLY DUCKLING TO

SUPERHOT BABE.

UPGRADE: BIGFOOT PRODUCED A

PHEROMONE THAT CAUSED BOYS TO

FALL IN LOVE WITH HER, MAKING

THEM HIGHLY SUGGESTIBLE TO

HER REQUESTS.

4: 38°52' N, 77°6' W

The team assembled at the mission desk in the Playground and waited for the principal to arrive. Heathcliff hunkered in the shadows. He knew he was forbidden from taking part in mission briefings, but he just couldn't help himself. Being a spy was exciting, and it frustrated him that he wasn't allowed to help. Plus, he wanted to be ready for the day when they invited him back on the team.

"Another mission?" Matilda cried. "This is ridiculous!"

"If Ms. Holiday is behind this one, I'm going to scream," Duncan said. "We just stopped her from melting the polar ice caps last week!"

"Don't forget the man-eating plants that attacked Birmingham," Jackson added.

"And when she poisoned the world's supply of corn dogs," Flinch grumbled.

"The earthquake machine was no day in the park, either!" Duncan said.

"They know we're only twelve years old, right?" Jackson roared.

Heathcliff understood their frustration. The team had been working eighteen-hour days for months, keeping the world from exploding or falling into chaos. They were understaffed and underappreciated.

Ruby stood up and raised a hand to calm everyone. She was a natural-born leader and the team's spokesperson. Heathcliff and Ruby had knocked heads many times when he was on the team, but he always respected her.

"I'll handle this," she said. "The principal will understand. I think that a few staff additions will make a huge difference. We need a gadget tech to teach us the latest stuff coming out of the science team. We need a surveillance expert to go over what's happening around the world. We need an information specialist and a historian-"

"-and a new Benjamin!" Duncan said.

Ruby nodded. "Yes, a new Benjamin would be helpful, plus a pilot for the School Bus now that the lunch lady is the principal. I don't feel comfortable flying around in a remote-control rocket."

"Um, hello?" Jackson said, raising his hand. "I'd be happy to train for that job. I have excellent eye-hand coordination and I look hot in aviator sunglasses."

"We can't have a child flying a supersonic jet," Matilda said.

"Oh, but we can have one jumping out of it to fight robots and mad scientists?"

Just then, the principal walked into the room, and the team turned their anger on him. The five of them were like a pack of angry dogs, yipping and barking at the bewildered man.

"What in the world is wrong with you people?" the principal asked.

"We're tired!"

"We're overworked!"

"We're frustrated!"

"We haven't been in a classroom in months!"

"The snack machine is out of taffy!"

Everyone looked at Flinch.

"Well, it is," he said defensively.

Heathcliff knew it was time to act. "Maybe I can help," he said as he stepped into the light.

The principal frowned. "Listen, Heathcliff, we're having a team meeting and-"

"Just hear me out, OK?" No one argued, so he continued. "I know how to fix this team. You're outmatched. Ms. Holiday is springing one world-ending scheme after another on you. Some days you even have to split up, which weakens the team. That's not how this group is supposed to work. The team is falling apart."

"Duh!" Matilda said. "Tell us something we don't know."

This was more than Matilda had said to him in weeks, and Heathcliff faultered. They thought he was criticizing them. He had to find the right words to win them over.

"You guys are the best of the best," he said. "I believe Ms. Holiday is intentionally trying to wear you out. Her schemes are outlandish and impractical. You've stopped most of them without much effort. They're not supposed to be hard. They're supposed to be frequent."

"No one would know better about end-of-the-world scheming than you," Jackson said with a chuckle. The others gave him an angry look and he blushed.

Despite Heathcliff's ravenous hunger for information about his past, he brushed the clue aside. He had to stay focused on his goal. "What I'm saying is, you could use some help, and I think I can be that help. I want back on the team."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. It was not the response Heathcliff was hoping for, but he wasn't giving up.

"You wouldn't have to train me. I remember all the fighting styles, the code-breaking, even how to free-fall from the School Bus. All you would need to do is put me in the upgrade chair and-"

The principal shook his head. "Heathcliff, you are helping-by manning the communication link."

Heathcliff frowned. "You could have a monkey do that job. You need another agent. I'm smart and have tons of experience."

His former friends didn't have to say no to him. Their faces shouted it from across the room. Why were they so resistant to letting him help? It had to do with the missing year and a half of his life, but what was it?

"I don't get it. You let Jackson Jones onto the team. He's got to be the worst person in the world. No offense."

"None taken," Jackson said.

"What could I have done that would be worse than the torment he's been dishing out since kindergarten?"

"For the record, I think I've changed," Jackson mumbled.

"Heathcliff, this isn't the time for this," Ruby said. "When things have settled down a little, maybe we can talk-"

"-and until then I'm a prisoner-"

"You are not a prisoner," the principal interrupted.

"Really? Then I can go home?" he asked, knowing full well the answer would be no.

"Heathcliff, I've explained this to you before," the principal said. "We had to erase your parents' memory of you."

"But you haven't told me why!"

He watched Ruby wrestle with an explanation.

"No one thought you were going to come back," Matilda said.

"Where did I go?" Heathcliff shouted. He could hear the echo of his anger bounce around the room.

"We're working on a way to reverse the memory wipe," the principal said. "Until then, you just have to be patient. What we're trying to do to your mom and dad has never been done before, and we get only one chance. I assure you it will happen soon, but right now you have to stay here. If you need more books or magazines to keep you occupied, I can-"

Heathcliff threw up his hands. "Books and magazines? No. You know what I need? Some friends!"

He stomped out of the room, desperate to get back to his little cot before he started crying. He felt so useless, so hated, so homesick, and so alone.

5: 38°53' N, 77°5' W

"Sugarland Academy," Ruby said as she and her teammates stood at the entrance to one of the country's most elite private schools, tucked away on fifty acres in Arlington, Virginia. With high, sweeping glass walls, an observatory, an Olympic-size swimming pool, tennis courts, and a private golf course, it provided every possible opportunity for its students. While the rest of the team complained about the school's starchy uniforms, Ruby grew more and more envious the more she learned about it. A year's tuition at Sugarland was almost the same as a semester at Harvard Law School, but the staff was made up of elected officials, former CEOs, and world-renowned scholars. It was also founded by the man who invented the personal organizer. The school's motto was "An organized mind is the seed of success." Ruby thought she had died and gone to heaven.

"Why make a school this fancy?" Jackson said, eyeing the building warily. "If the kids who go here are anything like they are at our school, they'll just cover it in spit wads."

Ruby shook her head. "These kids aren't like the baboons we go to school with, Jackson. They pride themselves on being serious. They grow up to run everything."

"You sound like you'd like to be one of them," Duncan said as he yanked at his uniform collar.

"I'd never make it here if I had to wear this getup all the time," Matilda said, struggling with her skirt. "Reminds me of going undercover as a cheerleader. I never want to wear a skirt again."

"It's prestigious."

"It's itchy."

"But look, Matilda. There's a scary griffin sewn onto the sweater," Jackson said, pointing at the school's crest in burgundy and gold. "It looks like it wants to murder something and then eat it."

"Grragggh!" Flinch said, aping a scary monster. The rest of the team laughed.

Ruby scowled.

"I assume everyone saw the Secret Service agents," the principal said.

"There are a few on the roof, and I saw one in a tree," Jackson said. "What I wouldn't give for a carton of eggs right now. There's nothing so fun as tossing eggs at someone who has climbed up a tree."

"Yeah, I remember you doing that to me. I just don't remember it being fun," Duncan said, rolling his eyes.

"Does everyone know their cover stories? Jackson, your father owns the Cleveland Browns. Duncan, your mother made a fortune on an Internet startup where people could purchase their groceries online. Matilda, your mom is the CEO of Suckerpunch Mixed Martial Arts, Inc., and Flinch, your dad invented Raisinets."

"Don't I wish!" Flinch cried.

"Pufferfish, you're the heir to a squirtable-cheese empire."

"Huh?"

"Your mission is to protect Tessa Lipton," the principal said, ignoring Ruby's confused expression. "Oh, and keep your upgrades off-line."

"What? No powers?" Matilda cried.

"Not unless you want one of those government workers to go back to the office and tell their bosses that a bunch of kids with superpowers helped keep the president's daughter safe."

Once inside, Ruby marveled at the floors, which were waxed to a mirror shine. Photographs of famous Sugarland Academy alumni decorated the walls, many of whom Ruby recognized from the world of politics. Two of them were former presidents. But it was the students who truly impressed her. They walked to their classes in single-file lines, spoke in hushed tones, and behaved like grown-ups. Not one of them had drawn a mustache or a goatee on any of the portraits. There was no goofing off, no pulling pranks, and no shoving people into lockers. Ruby felt like Dorothy Gale, swept away by a twister and dropped into a magical world, except, unlike Dorothy, Ruby didn't want to go home.

She couldn't help but feel that this was where she was supposed to be. Sure, she loved her friends, but sometimes she wondered if being a spy was really all it was cracked up to be. Her life was so chaotic, every day a new disaster. Even when they did beat the bad guys, ten more popped up to take their place. Plus, she was missing a lot of classes in order to save the world, and she worried about the long-term effects of going to school without really going to school. Once she turned sixteen, the team would cut her loose to fend for herself, but if she went to this school, the bastion of intellect and planning, she would be prepared for a life of power and prestige. Maybe she should transfer. Sure, she would have to give up her upgrades, but she'd get to go to a school that taught a class on "the art of sitting still"! She wasn't sure if a person could have a school for a soul mate, but she was certain she was falling in love with Sugarland Academy.

The principal escorted them to the main office, where they met Ms. Turnston, the school secretary. Turnston was a bony woman who couldn't have weighed more than the paperweight on her desk. Her serious, tight-faced expression seemed to suggest that laughter was something that should be eliminated for the safety of others. Oddly enough, Ruby found the woman's lack of humor comforting. It was nice to be around people who took life seriously.

"Are these the five new students I was informed would be arriving today?" Ms. Turnston asked sourly.

The principal leaned in close. "Yes, and I hope you'll use your discretion. These children have very important families."

The secretary's frown deepened. "Sugarland's student body is made up of the upper echelon of the elite of Washington, D.C.," she snapped. "Discretion is this school's top priority."

Her sermon made the principal take a step back. "Very good," he said, nodding.

The NERDS were required to read and sign several codes of conduct. One strictly prohibited silliness, and another threatened expulsion for "the passing of gas, the picking of boogers, or the digging for earwax." Ruby saw her friends bristle at all the rules, but she secretly loved them, especially the pamphlet on the proper steps for asking a question.

The principal and the children took a brief tour of the grounds, including the school's greenhouse, film production studio, art museum, and rock climbing wall, then Ms. Turnston gave them their class schedules and a farewell scowl. "I trust you can find your way from here, and, please, stay off the grass. It's imported from Iceland."

"Wow, even the grass is fancy," Jackson said.

"Remember, no upgrades," the principal said after wishing them luck. "Don't let Tessa out of your sight, and stay in touch."

He slipped away, leaving the children alone.

"We should probably not hang out together," Ruby told the others. "People will notice that the five new kids are suddenly best friends."

Matilda nodded. "Makes sense."

"I'll keep an eye on the cafeteria. I hear they have a pastry chef on staff!" Flinch said, licking his lips.

"And I've got the outside of the school covered," Duncan said, removing a remote control from his backpack. He flipped a switch and a dozen floating pods materialized in the air. "I brought the Hovercraft Robotic Surveillance L-114a's."

"Um, the what?" Jackson said.

"Don't you guys have any interest in the gadgets our science team creates for us?" Duncan said, sighing. "These are floating cameras with a space-age camouflage mode that makes them invisible to the naked eye. They're whisper-quiet, too."

He pushed a button and the machines vanished as quickly as they appeared.

"I have them positioned all over the campus," Duncan continued. "If Ms. Holiday shows up, we'll see her coming a mile away."

"Smart thinking, Gluestick," Ruby said. "All right, let's keep our real eyes on Tessa, and remember, she's a person surrounded by dignitaries and royalty. If you must talk to her-and I highly recommend that you don't-but if you do, try not to act like morons and idiots."

Her teammates stared back at her, offended. Then they scowled and walked away, leaving Ruby all alone.

"Not that you act like morons and idiots…all the time. Just some of the time!" she called after them.

Ruby stalked Tessa Lipton. She followed her down hallways and into bathrooms, and hovered while Tessa drank from the water fountain. It wasn't long before Ruby had a pretty clear picture of who the first daughter was: the queen of Sugarland Academy. Tessa held every student in the palm of her hand. Kids raced to get her lunch. They rubbed her tired feet. They carried her books to class. One even offered to chew her food. At first Ruby chalked up Tessa's popularity to her being the daughter of the most famous person in the United States, but when she was told the son of the country's most famous actor and the daughter of the world's biggest-selling hip-hop artist also went to Sugarland, she realized that was too simple of an explanation.

There had to be another reason, and Ruby was determined to discover it. She decided to do recon at lunch, so she invited herself to eat with a trio of girls whose table had the best view of Tessa's "permanent" seat. Their names were Deonne, Charlotte, and Mary Alice, and as luck would have it they were the best of friends, notorious gossips, and overly impressed by wealth and fame.

"You're the daughter of Harvey Pickens-the squirtable-cheese billionaire? Wow! You are so lucky. At my house, our servants are forced to slice the cheese by hand!" Deonne said. She was as thin as a flagpole, with a set of braces that even Jackson would find unsettling.

"My father says it is unbecoming to feel sympathy for the help," Charlotte whispered. She wore sunglasses and said everything in a hushed tone.

"Oh, Charlotte. We're not barbarians," Mary Alice said. She had long, luxurious red hair and more freckles on her face than there were stars in the sky. "If cheese can be squirted, the servants are wasting valuable time best spent running our baths and attending to our ponies."

"I guess you are right," Charlotte said.

"So, I hear the president's daughter goes here," Ruby said.

"Oh, yes," Deonne replied. "Tessa. Quite a lovely girl."

"Lovely," Charlotte peeped.

"A true gem," Mary Alice added.

Ruby was suddenly envious. "So you're friends with her?"

"Oh, no," Mary Alice said. "She's horrible."

"Horrid, really," Deonne agreed.

"Foul," Charlotte said, then looked around to make sure she was not heard.

"I'm confused," Ruby said. "I thought you said she was lovely."

"To look at," Charlotte whispered. "But her personality is awful."

"She's mean! And rude!" Mary Alice added.

"She's what my yacht captain would call 'insufferable,'" Deonne said. "But you didn't hear that from us."

"She has a lot of power at this school," Mary Alice said.

"You don't want to cross her. Last year she was so mean, a girl fled the country and sought asylum in Iraq," Charlotte whispered.

When Ruby ran into Flinch in the hallway, his face was covered in blueberry pie.

"THIS SCHOOL HAS A BAKERY!" he shouted, barely able to control his shaking body.

"I told you it was a special place," she said. "But you need to stop eating sweets. You're going to freak out, and besides, you have pie all over you."

"I didn't eat this pie. Tessa Lipton shoved my face in it. She's vicious. She stomped on my lunch. Twenty-five oatmeal cream cookies died an early death because of her. What am I supposed to eat for my fifth desert today? I didn't bring a backup treat!"

"I'm sorry about your cookies. Just keep your distance. Be subtle."

Flinch beat on his chest and bellowed. "I am the KING OF SUBTLETY!"

Later, Jackson was waiting for Ruby after her class on the History of Quiet Amusements. They found seats in the back of the library and spoke in whispers.

"If Ms. Holiday needed an inside man to help her kidnap Tessa, she wouldn't lack for volunteers. All the students hate her guts," he said. "Most of the teachers, too. Apparently, little Ms. Lipton runs this place like a dictator, only with a lot less mercy. The last principal quit because Tessa kept sending her mean texts."

"I know, Flinch told me," Ruby said gloomily.

"You're disappointed with her?"

"No, I'm disappointed with the school. I thought it was different."

"Sorry, Puff. Every school has a bully, even a school with a space shuttle and a hospital attached to it. You don't belong here, anyway."

Ruby blushed. It was as if Jackson had read her dreamy thoughts about being a Sugarland griffin.

"Everyone here is too bossy," he continued. "Who would you tell what to do?"

Pufferfish growled, but Jackson just laughed. "Do you think that maybe we've got this one wrong?" he asked. "Kidnapping isn't Ms. Holiday's style. Most of her stunts are giant robots and mutant bunnies."

"I don't think we know anything about her anymore. When she clobbered Agent Brand and tried to kill Flinch, I chalked it up to her being infected by the villain virus. But when we destroyed the corrupted nanobytes, she was still evil and crazy. She's obsessed with taking over the world, and kidnapping the president's daughter is probably a good way to do it. President Lipton would hand over anything to save his kid."

Jackson sighed. "Ms. Holiday was the coolest adult I knew. I'm sure you guys would have kicked me off the team if not for her."

"We did kick you off the team," Ruby reminded him.

"Yes, but luckily I am charming and friendly and a valuable asset," Jackson replied.

Just then, Matilda stormed in, receiving a big shush from the librarian. Wheezer ignored her and approached her teammates.

"The president's daughter called me a pigface," she said. "I'm going to kill her and before you tell me no, let me remind you that our mission is to keep her from being kidnapped. Technically, we succeed if she's dead."

"You can't kill her," Ruby said.

"What if I put her in the hospital? Nothing serious-just a broken face."

All three agents sneezed simultaneously. Gluestick was on the com-link. "If Tessa gets kidnapped, how bad would it be if we didn't try to rescue her?"

"You had a run-in with her, too?" Ruby asked.

"Yes, and so did my underpants. I'm going to be pulling them out of my behind until I'm old and gray. Her forearms have monkey strength!"

"Listen, team, this isn't the first time we've had to protect someone who was intolerable," Ruby said.

"Yeah, but Tessa isn't a swimsuit model like the last one," Jackson grumbled.

"Luckily, Tessa is probably safe," Duncan said. "The day is almost over and we haven't had as much as a whisper from Miss Information."

Jackson nodded. "We should call the principal and let him know we're going to be following the First Jerk around again tomorrow."

Suddenly, Ruby felt the floor begin to shake. She held on to her seat and watched as several books fell off the shelves and tumbled to the floor. "Duncan, what's going on?" She asked. "Are there tanks outside?"

"There's nothing outside," Duncan said. "I have no idea where that noise is coming from."

The sound was getting louder and the shaking more intense. "What about a helicopter?" Jackson asked.

"What kind of helicopter cracks marble floors?" Matilda asked.

"The walls in the main office are crumbling like crackers," Duncan said.

Pufferfish, Braceface, and Wheezer ran out of the library and toward the noise. In the hallway there was an explosion of snapping wood, pulverized concrete, bursting pipes, and boiling steam.

"Maybe it's an earthquake!" Flinch cried as he joined the com-link.

Ruby shook her head. "It's not an earthquake. It's her, and she's not coming from the sky or outside. She's coming from underneath! Where is Tessa right now?"

"She's in pre-algebra," Duncan shouted. "Room 111-A."

"Go!" Ruby shouted, and she, Jackson, and Matilda dashed off to find the classroom. As they turned the corner, Flinch appeared like a lightning flash in a thunderstorm. The hall was empty so no one spotted his superspeed. Duncan joined them outside of Tessa's class, but it was too late. They could see through the window in the classroom door that the floor was buckling, being thrust upward as a large, metallic drill broke the surface.

Ruby threw open the door. "Everyone listen up. Get out of this room now!" she shouted, but the students were far too shocked and terrified to follow instructions. "Listen to me! All of you are in danger. I need everyone to get up from their desks and-"

She didn't get to finish. The drill shot up out of the floor like a whale breaching the waves. It fell down hard on its side, knocking students and desks over in a massive shock wave.

The agents leaped into action when the large machine fired a rocket directly at them, a plume of black smoky death trailing behind it. Ruby barely had time to shout a warning and dive out of the way before the missile crashed into the very spot where she and the NERDS had been standing. Ruby staggered to her feet and squinted through the black air for Tessa Lipton. She couldn't let Ms. Holi-no, Miss Information-take the president's daughter, but she couldn't see and her ears were buzzing like they had been colonized by honeybees.

But Ruby "Pufferfish" Peet didn't need any of those senses. She had a sixth sense her doctor called "overactive allergies." She closed her eyes and tried to tune out the screech in her ears. Instead, she listened to the messages her body was telling her. Her puffy glands and runny nose were speaking loud and clear.

A row of red sores appeared on her forearm. She knew what that meant-goons. She was allergic to goons, and by the number of bumps she could tell there were eight of them spilling out of a hatch in the machine. A sudden swelling in her right big toe meant one was in striking distance. She swung, made contact, and felt the bad guy slump to the floor. Now there were seven bumps, so only seven goons. But where were they? The itching of her ear allowed her to play a game of hotter/colder. The closer she got to the next villain, the more her ear itched, and soon she was whacking him in the jaw. Six bumps.

A phlegmy cough meant there was someone behind her. She was allergic to being snuck up on. A quick turn matched with a swift kick to the goon's groin sent him toppling over in pain. Wait-puffy lips! A fast elbow behind her, right into the Adam's apple of another of Miss Information's toadies. Four bumps left.

"Pufferfish, are you OK?" Duncan shouted through the noise. "We can't see you!"

"I'm fine," Ruby said, smashing another goon in the face. "Find Tessa!"

But then there was a ridge of red, hot sores sprouting up her back. She was allergic to betrayal. The only explanation: Miss Information had arrived.

"I can't let you do this, Ms. Holiday," Ruby cried, forgetting her old friend's alias in the panic of the moment.

"Don't call me that!" the former librarian bellowed. "My name is Miss Information-or Master, if you want to get a head start on what the world will soon be calling me."

Even through the mask Ruby could hear the woman's rage. Why did she hate to be called by her real name? Was she really that disconnected from reality? If only Ruby could reach her, take her by the hand, and let her know they still loved her. Unfortunately, she had more immediate problems. A stinging pain in her ears told her that the other goons had surrounded her. She was allergic to being surrounded.

She swung at one, clipping him in the temple, and he fell over with a thud. Her right leg shot out behind her and nailed a second thug in the belly. She could hear the wind exploding out of his mouth even if she couldn't see his face through the smoke. There was only one punk left to worry about and then she could deal with Ms. Holiday, but he had abandoned the fight and snatched Tessa. He dragged the poor, screaming girl into the bizarre drill machine while Miss Information looked on.

"Don't do this, Ms. Holiday!" Ruby begged.

The villain stood motionless, staring at Ruby. She tilted her head as if trying to shake something loose from her brain. For a moment, Ruby believed she had gotten through to the former librarian. But then another rocket fired out of the machine, and Ruby was forced to leap for her life once more. By the time she had recovered, the drill was spinning and the machine was slipping back into the massive sinkhole. There was nothing Ruby or anyone else could do to stop it.

6: 38°46' N, 77°4' W

Even though Miss Information had technically kidnapped Tessa, she still wanted to make a good impression. So when her goons brought the frightened, tired girl to meet her, she had a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies ready.

"Have a cookie, sweetie. I made them myself," she said.

Tessa eyed the treats suspiciously. "You're in big trouble, lady! My father won't rest until I'm found. He'll send the military, the Secret Service, the CIA, and the FBI. If he has to, he'll even send the Boy Scouts!"

"Oh, honey, you know that's not true. Your daddy is far too concerned with his next election to make a big scene out of getting you back. How would it look to voters if he can't protect his own daughter? No, I think what will most likely happen is, he'll quietly do everything to find you, and then he'll attempt to negotiate your return at a bargain price. He likes being president, and he's not about to let you ruin it for him."

Miss Information watched Tessa's face fall. She got no pleasure in hurting the girl's feelings, but young Ms. Lipton needed to see the truth if she was going to be of any use.

"I know how it must feel," Ms. Holiday continued. "You're not his top priority, and that's heartbreaking. But he does have a long history of disappointing you, doesn't he? When he was the mayor of Arlington, he missed your preschool graduation. When he was the governor of Virginia, he went to a campaign fund-raiser lunch instead of your ballet recital. He was a no-show at your soccer team's championship and even a couple of Christmases. You're a very forgiving person to let him get away with it, Tessa. You're a much stronger person than me."

"You don't understand. His job isn't easy," Tessa snapped.

"That's what your mother says to make you feel better, right? I'm sure she's very worried about you, but she'll keep quiet. She's really not a wave-maker, is she? So sad. You're just not on their list of priorities."

"How do you know that?" Tessa whispered.

"I know lots of things, Tessa. After all, they do call me Miss Information. For instance, I know that your kidnapping has been completely covered up."

"Impossible! All my friends saw you take me!"

Miss Information snatched a remote control off a nearby table and aimed it at a wall of television screens. Every major news channel was broadcasting live. Not one of them was talking about Tessa.

"That's kind of odd, don't you think? The president's daughter is taken against her will in front of her classmates and there's not a peep on the news? What's on CNN? Oh, a report about a squirrel that water-skis. Well, that's huge international news, right? Watch this-he's going to jump a ramp. Wow, that animal is fearless."

Tears began to well in Tessa's eyes. Miss Information's plan was working perfectly. Now it was time to be a friend. She got up from her chair and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Now, now, there's no need to cry."

Tessa pulled away from her angrily. "He'll come for me and you're going to go to jail forever."

Miss Information frowned. "I guess we're going to find out, Tessa. In the meantime, you look like you could use some rest. Guards, take Ms. Lipton to her room-not the cell. Run a hot bath for her and then send in the massage therapist and the manicurist. Also, find out if there is anything she would like to eat. Ms. Lipton is our guest."

"So I'm not a hostage?"

"No, you're still a hostage. Did I say 'guest'? I meant…well…what's a nicer word than prisoner? Captive? Detainee? Oh, it doesn't matter. Honey, the point is: Get comfortable. We're going to be here awhile."

END TRANSMISSION.

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