The author of this story would like to thank fellow 'Totally Spies' writer jettmanas, who was kind enough to create some new cover-art for this adventure.
It was a cold, foreboding night at the London Institute for Advanced Scientific Research. Inside the building, Professor Mark Parsons, one of the leading authorities on dark matter, was in his office, finishing typing up some notes on his laptop. He paid little attention to the howling wind that relentlessly battered against his window like a swarm of angry ghosts that were trying to get in and seize his soul.
Parsons leaned back in his comfy suede chair, feeling quite pleased with himself. He had just completed the last notes he needed for his upcoming lecture on the fabric of the universe, which he knew full well would utterly baffle and bewilder his students. He did so enjoy showing just how smarter he was compared to the majority of the world and he also felt that this kind of speech would encourage those attending his lectures to study a bit harder, just to get some indication as to the nature of the weird science he had spent three hours babbling to them about!
His musings were abruptly interrupted by a loud knock on the office door. Annoyed by the interruption, he irately got to his feet, walked across the room and opened the door. He found himself facing a short man in a big dark trench coat with a wide-rimmed hat on his head, the shadows of which hid the top part of his face, while a cold, cunning smile could be seen underneath.
Parsons made a really big mistake at this point. If he had watched more movies in his spare time, he would know that mysterious men who obscured their faces, like the one currently before him, have a tendency to be quite villainous and that the wisest course of action would be to perhaps slam the door shut, lock it and call for security. Instead, he decided to directly challenge the stranger. On reflection, this was an unwise move to make.
"Yes, can I help you?" he asked rather tetchily.
"Indeed you can, Professor," chuckled the man maliciously. "Indeed you can."
Before Parsons could react, the man suddenly pulled what looked like some kind of ray gun from his large coat pocket and fired a beam of bright green energy, which completely enveloped the unfortunate professor. Seconds later, the beam dissipated and the professor had completely vanished, leaving only his clothes, which lay crumpled on the ground. As he put the gun back into his coat pocket, the man smirked to himself and pulled a crumpled list out of his other pocket.
"Five down, four to go," he chortled to himself as he took a pencil and crossed off a name on the list. Suddenly, at that moment, a security guard came round the corner and spotted what was happening.
"Hey, what's going on down there?" he yelled. The man in the coat did not bother to respond. Instead, he spun on his feet and dashed frantically for the exit, not realising until too late that in the confusion he had dropped his list. Grumbling heatedly to himself, the man charged through the door and out into the busy streets, where he soon lost himself into the crowd.
The guard was just starting to take pursuit, when he was distracted by a small voice called out "Help! Get me out of here!" The guard looked around for a second, before realising that the voice had come from the pile of clothes lying in the office doorway. To his total astonishment, a small furry mole poked his head out from under the professor's shirt and looked directly at the guard.
"Don't just stand there, man!" snapped the mole. "Do something!"
The shocked guard did indeed do something. He rolled his eyes and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.