Nataliya Bogoluibova - Never call me a spy. Part one

CHAPTER ONE

Colin ran along the dark and gloomy corridor of the amusement park, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The boy grabbed a quick, worried look back over his shoulder. Sweat was running down his forehead and cheeks. He saw a big grinning clown and heard his creepy bursts of laughter.

“Let’s play tag,” the spooky clown shouted, “Run!”

“Wait a minute! I’m Colin Miller, special agent in charge of the investigation! I should dust the room for prints,” the boy stopped and yelled at the dazed and confused clown. Colin saw him step back. The clown’s scary face dropped, his brows arched. The boy followed him into the darkness of the windowless corridor. That was a huge mistake. Colin felt his legs pumping in midair. He gave a choked cry; his arms and legs were flailing. The fall seemed to take forever…The boy flinched and woke up from the dream. The room was empty.

“Oh, it’s just a nightmare,” he sighed with relief. He couldn’t think about it for long. The minute his eyes snapped open, he remembered about his birthday. He turned eleven! No time to waste! The boy flung off his covers and ran downstairs. He heard someone banging in the kitchen and ran in to find his mother pulling an apple pie from the oven.

“Happy birthday, Colin! Here’s a gift for you,” she said, and handed him a parcel. It might be spy night googles! Colin could never express how much they meant to him! A broad smile came across his face. The boy thought his heart would break with delight when he tore the paper off the parcel. There was a book inside… His face fell, and he bit his lip.

“Thanks,” he said, trying not to show his disappointment.

“I’ve always wanted you to read Conan Doyle. That was my favorite book when I was eleven. I was so fascinated by Sherlock Holmes and his adventures! Enjoy reading!”

“We’re having a party tonight! You may go to the ice cream parlor and get Vanilla or Butter Pecan,” she winked at him and added, “If I were you, I’d check the shelf above the desk for more presents. Just in case. Sorry, got to dash.”

Colin ran to his bedroom and cried with joy. There were spy night googles on the shelf! He took them and darted out of the house to the nearest ice cream parlor. It was overcrowded. The Egyptian summer was tough. Nobody could survive its devastating heat and baking sun without ice cream. The boy got in line behind a gator in a well-cut suit.

“Without ice cream, there is darkness and chaos in my head! I must eat much ice cream to stay cool. Cool as a cucumber,” said a squeaky voice.

“The voice can’t belong to the big gator,” Colin thought. He noticed a meerkat on the gator’s shoulder. The meerkat looked nervous and very on edge.

“I’m burning up. I need some ice cream.” The meerkat wrinkled its muzzle in discontent and whined. “We’re on a secret mission, aren’t we? Let’s throw elbows and push these idle people out of the way! I won’t waste time in line!”

The gator replied, “Behave yourself! We don’t want unnecessary attention! This is a secret mission, remember?”

“Let’s split up then,” the meerkat said. “I’ve got stuff to do. It’s vital for the mission. Get me Butter Pecan. See you.”

He jumped off the gator’s shoulder and left.

CHAPTER TWO

Colin was on his way home when he heard a soft rush of wings overhead. The boy sensed that he was being watched.

“BFI Special Agent Hunter,” someone rasped. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Colin blinked in surprise. There was nobody around.

“Where’re you?” he asked in confusion. “What’s BFI?”

“Bat Flying Intelligence,” the voice hissed from the tree.

Hunter looked like a beast from a surreal, magical world.

The boy shouted in amazement, “Are you a fox or a bat?”

“Both. I’m the red flying fox. We’re tree-dwelling bats.”

“Have you seen any strangers nearby?” the creature whispered, “Any meerkats? Wearing beanie hats?”

The boy asked, “Why are you looking for the meerkat?

“It’s classified information. Are you good at keeping secrets?” Hunter’s lithe voice came from behind.

Colin replied honestly, “I don’t know. Nobody has ever trusted me with top secrets.”

Hunter mumbled, “I think I can rely on you. The meerkat is a criminal and a rogue spy. He spied on the curator and stole the jewelries from the Royal Museum. The meerkat left a mangrove leaf at the crime scene. Have you seen him?”

The boy thought that it would be more prudent to withhold the information that he had seen the meerkat in the ice cream parlor, at least for a while, so as not to harm his secret mission. He looked at the bat and hesitated with the answer.

“Don’t trust strangers. Always recheck the information!” Colin remembered his mother’s words. The boy didn’t want to tell lies, so he smiled at Hunter and tried to change the topic. But he didn’t succeed. He was dealing with an experienced and cunning sleuth.

“You may decline to answer my questions,” said Hunter with a smirk, “but I have to warn of the hazardous situations that you’re unable to spot.” His eyes narrowed dangerously.

“If you meet the meerkat, you’ll never guess that he’s a dangerous creature. He gives the impression of a goofy chatterbox. One of his strengths is that he always evokes sympathy. He could look miserable, wearing ridiculous sunglasses and a ragged beanie. It’s the perfect spy disguise! Don’t be tricked,” Hunter advised, and looked intently at the boy. He added, “The meerkat can’t resist Butter Pecan Ice Cream. That’s his weak point.”

“Does he have any spy gadgets?”

“He might have the entire gadget collection or nothing at all. It doesn’t matter. A real spy meerkat can turn a pencil into a killing machine!”

The boy wondered, “What’s about jewelries?”

“The meerkat likes shiny things. I won’t be surprised if he’s wearing something bright from the collection he stole.”