Making the Grade (The Model Spy #2)

Chapter 22 - A Valuable Hostage

It was still dark when we were dropped off in London, on the Westminster Bridge. Just as quickly as the MI6-authorized car got us into the city, it sped off into the dark, just another car driving through the city's labyrinth of roads. The lights of London's ancient buildings rippled in the water of the Thames, sparkling. For a moment, I felt like I was staring into another world I wasn't a part of. The reflection flowing in the waters of the river was a world that didn't have Jayden and Professor Lewis and brutal murders. It was another world, one that I so desperately wished I could visit.

"Now what?" Millie asked, in the similar disinterested tone a child would use when whining "Are we there yet?" She was bouncing on the balls of her feet. "In all of the books, there are car chases and fights." A man on a pre-dawn bike ride wheeled past us at a snail-like pace. We remained silent until he was across the bridge. "You know...excitement."

"There are ups and downs to every job," Fred said flatly just as the cell phone in his pocket began to chirp one of Beethoven's symphonies.

He whipped it out of his pocket so quickly, it nearly fell from his hands and toppled into the river. After a fumble or two, he brought the phone to his ear. He nodded once, though the person on the other end of the line could not see him, and handed his phone to me.

I knew who it was before I heard his voice. It was my turn to be nervous and I worried that the phone would slip from my sweaty hand.

"Laura?" he breathed.

"Zach." It wasn't a question or an exclamation. Just a word, a word that meant a whole lot to me at the moment.

Max and Fred began to stroll down the length of the bridge.

"C'mon Millie." Max held out his hand.

"But-" Millie was watching me, eagerly. "This is getting good. A mysterious phone call.' Max had her by the hand and was gently pulling her away. "Who is it?" she asked me over her shoulder. "Who's Zach?"

"It's a really long story," I heard Max say.

"Too long of a story," Fred added.

I turned away from them and walked aimlessly towards the other end of the bridge, my feet feeling separated from the rest of my body. I so wanted to say something to him, but suddenly my words became lodged in my throat, stuck somewhere between my vocal chords and my usually-big mouth.

"What's up?" I finally said before cringing and wishing I could throw the phone into the water after all. What's up? He had just saved my life, again, and all I could think of saying was "What's up?" A lot was up. A group of serial killers were on the loose somewhere, maybe in London, maybe out of the country. I was in the middle of the city with two secret agents and the daughter of a prominent politician. I, more than anyone, knew what was up, and what was up was not good.

"I hacked into the Department of Transport's database. Professor Timothy Lewis purchased six train tickets for London late last night. His train arrived in London about two hours ago."

"So they are somewhere in the city?" I asked. I leaned against the bridge's railing. So we had to find six people in a city of over 8 million. Had I been in the mood to be sarcastic, I would have said how easy such a feat was.

A pause. "For now," Zach said.

"For now?"

"Professor Lewis purchased six additional train tickets upon reaching London this morning. Six one-way tickets to Paris." He let the name of the city linger between us for a few moments. I didn't think I could handle the irony. "But he bought tickets for an evening train," he continued. "They are still in London. Somewhere in London," he said slowly.