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It was Sunday afternoon, a little after three.
Twelve-year-old Zachary Taylor was waving goodbye to his parents. He carried a large duffle bag over his left shoulder.
As his parents watched from the doorway, Zach walked down
the sidewalk to the long black limousine parked by the curb. He paused to wave
one last time, and then handed his bag to the limo driver. The driver opened the
rear passenger door, and Zach stepped through the opening into the rear of the
limo.
The passenger compartment of the limousine had two
full-length seats facing each other. The seats were separated by over three feet
of plush maroon carpet. Zach’s friends Annie Johnson and Moose Jacobs were
already inside, facing the rear.
Annie was small and full of energy. Her long brown hair was
tied back in a ponytail. Moose was larger and quieter. His thick black hair was
combed forward over his eyes. Both were wearing t-shirts and shorts, and Annie
had on a Chicago Cubs baseball cap.
“Hey guys,” Zach said to his friends.
They nodded back at him, excitedly.
Across from Annie and Moose sat a burly red-haired man in
his mid-thirties. He welcomed Zach with a smile and a big hug.
“Well, kiddo,” said the man, in a big, booming voice.
“Ready for a new adventure?”
“You bet, Uncle Mike,” Zach replied.
He slid in beside his uncle, facing Moose and Annie. Then
he buckled his safety belt as the limo driver settled into the front seat.
Within minutes the long black limousine was winding its way through the village of Glen Ellyn, Illinois.
“So what’s up?” Annie asked as the limousine turned
onto the freeway. “All we know is that we’re going to spend a week at Disney
World with you guys. When will we find out what this is all about?”
“Be patient, little lady,” answered Zach’s uncle,
with a chuckle. “The Director will be conducting a full briefing in just a
minute.”
Zach’s friend Moose had a puzzled look on his face.
“Here?” he asked, looking around the passenger
compartment of the limo.
“Yes, Moose — here.” Uncle Mike motioned to Moose and
Annie. “If the two of you would be kind enough to turn around slightly, we can
begin the briefing.”
Annie and Moose looked at each other and shrugged their
shoulders. They scooted to either end of the large passenger seat, then turned
sideways to look towards the front of the limousine.
At the same time, Zach’s Uncle Mike pressed a button
concealed in the passenger door. A tinted glass panel rose between the passenger
and driver compartments.
When the panel was fully in place, Uncle Mike pressed
another button. The center of the panel slowly lit up to reveal a full-color
video screen embedded in the panel.
After a short burst of video static, the face of a
gray-haired gentleman came into focus. His face was tall and narrow, with
prominent cheekbones and deep crows-feet around steel-blue eyes. When he spoke,
it was with a clipped British accent.
“Ah, there you are,” the man on the screen began. He
was staring straight into the camera. “Agent M2, I see you’ve gathered all
the troops, hmm? Are we ready to begin the briefing?”
“Yes, sir,” Zach’s Uncle Mike replied.
The outside world knew Zach's uncle as Michael McManus,
globe-trotting management consultant. In reality, he was Agent M2, a high-level
operative with The Agency. The Agency was a top-secret government organization
dedicated to thwarting unusual criminal activity worldwide. Agent M2 took his
orders from the man on the screen, who was known only as the Director.
Annie stared at the video screen for a moment. Then she
started looking around the passenger compartment.
“You can see us?” she asked out loud. “Is there a
camera in here somewhere?”
On screen, the Director smiled.
“Ah, Miss Johnson. Always the curious one, hmm? If
you look carefully, you will notice a small video camera mounted in the ceiling
directly above the video screen, and another above the right-side door. The
signals are transmitted to Headquarters via a small satellite antenna integrated
into the boot of the automobile.”
Zach turned to his uncle and mouthed the word, “Boot?”
Uncle Mike smiled, and whispered into Zach’s ear.
“‘Boot’ is British for ‘trunk.’ The antenna’s
built into the trunk lid.”
The Director cleared his throat with a soft harrumph, and
everyone in the car turned back to the screen.
“If we can dispense with the technical preliminaries,”
he continued, “you are probably wondering why I gathered you here
today.”
Zach and his friends all nodded.
“As you are no doubt already aware, you are in an Agency
limousine en route to O’Hare International Airport. There you will board a
commercial flight to Orlando, Florida. The cover story given to your parents is that Agent M2, in his guise as a
management consultant, has been retained by Walt Disney World for a week-long
consulting project. As part of the terms of this particular project, Mr. McManus
has been furnished with a suite of rooms at Disney’s Grand Floridian Beach
Resort. He has also been provided four free passes to all attractions on the
Disney property, and has been encouraged to bring his family down for a short
holiday. Not having any children of his own, Mr. McManus chose to invite his
nephew and two of his friends to share the accommodations and partake of the
amusements while he completes his consulting project with the Disney
organization.”
The Director paused for a second, to make sure that
everyone understood so far.
“That is the cover story — which you will continue to
observe during the upcoming week. In actuality, Agent M2 and Agent Zed are on
assignment for the Agency. The two of you,” the Director nodded to Moose and
Annie, “will be assisting them as special operatives.”
Moose looked at Annie, then at Zach’s Uncle Mike. Before
he could ask, Uncle Mike whispered to him, “The British say ‘zed’ for the
letter ‘Z.’ Don’t ask why.”
“Now, to the assignment,” the Director said from the
video screen. “Two days ago the Agency raided a Chicago-based cell of a
suspected terrorist organization. This organization calls itself the White Dove
Liberation Front. Rather ironic, isn't it — naming themselves after a bird of
peace, hmm? In any case, we discovered some very unsettling information. Agent D
was in charge of that operation, and he will provide additional details. Agent
D?”
On the video screen, the face of the Director faded out and
the face of another man faded in. This face was thin and craggy with deep
Basset-hound eyes.
“Sure thing, chief,” Agent D began. “We been
following this bunch of crazies for a few months now. Our boys tracked them down
to a house on the south side of Chicago, blue-collar neighborhood. There was nothing suspicious about them, just a
bunch of regular Joes as far as the neighbors was concerned. We just kind of
settled in, watching and waiting. The we got this tip that something big was
going down, and the crazies were gonna be bolting on Saturday morning. So we
raided the joint Friday night, before they could get packed up and moved. There
was five of them, a bunch of long-haired radicals. Committed to overthrowing the
capitalist establishment, or something like that. Buncha hooey, if you ask
me.”
The thin man paused for a moment. He flashed a thin smile,
and then continued.
“Don’t matter what I think, anyway. I mainly care about
what they’re trying to pull off. In this case, they were sloppy enough to
leave their plans on a personal computer, hidden behind a false wall. Not hidden
well, though. Our boys sussed it out in about five minutes. Their files were
hiding in plain sight in a folder on the PC’s hard disk.”
“Anybody with any smarts would have encrypted those
files,” Annie commented.
Onscreen, Agent D nodded his head.
“You’d’ve thought so, wouldn’t ya? Well, doll face,
this bunch was a few slices shy of a loaf, if you get my drift. In fact, it
looks to me that whoever put together the plans must’ve known that these
crazies were the weak link in the chain. They didn’t trust them with a whole
lot of anything. All we found was enough information for them to do their part,
without knowing what anybody else was supposed to be doing. Just a piece of the
puzzle, that’s all they had.”
He paused for a moment, then continued.
“Anyways, the piece we found was scary enough. It seems
that this White Dove bunch is planning some sort of terrorist attack in Orlando sometime next week. We don’t know what it is or when it will be. All we know
is that they intend to make a statement by killing as many people as they can.
‘Thousands of dead tourists for the cause’ was how they worded it.”
“Did you question the terrorists you caught?” Zach
asked. “Were you able to get any more information out of them?”
Agent D slowly shook his head.
“Sorry, junior. They were as quiet as a bunch of mice at
a cat convention. All we got outta them was name, rank, and serial number. And
one other thing..."
“Which was?” Zach prodded.
“We found out that someone from this group is supposed to
meet up with a contact at Walt Disney World. The contact is someone who was
planted on Disney’s staff last Monday, the 14th. That’s all we
know.”
On the video screen, Agent D’s face was replaced with the
face of the Director.
“Thank you, Agent D, for that colorful description,”
the older man said. There was just a hint of disapproval in his voice. “So
this is what we know. White Dove is planning a major terrorist act somewhere in Orlando, sometime next week. They have planted someone inside the Disney organization,
someone who was hired Monday the 14th. This person presumably
is coordinating the attack. Your assignment is to locate the contact, then track
that person back to White Dove, uncover their plans, and neutralize them.”
Zach looked at his Uncle Mike, then at his friends.
“No problem,” he said confidently, “for the Junior
Spy Team.”
The Director seemed to be looking directly at Zach from the
video screen.
“I certainly hope your enthusiasm is warranted, Agent
Zed. On your arrival at the Orlando airport you will be outfitted with the
appropriate equipment. You will then coordinate with the local operative, Agent
O. Past that, you’ll be fairly much on your own. Our resources are already
stretched thin with this blasted space shuttle assignment next Wednesday. Just
too much happening in that bloody state in a single week, hmm?”
He paused for a moment.
“Agent M2, you will report directly to the Assistant for
the balance of this assignment. I expect to have a progress report by end of day
Monday. Any questions?”
The group in the limousine looked briefly at each other.
Then Agent M2 spoke, for the entire group.
“No questions sir. We know what we need to do.”
“Very good, then,” said the Director. His steel-blue
eyes stared straight into the camera. “Good luck, and God speed. Thousands of
lives are depending on you.” |