Rose glanced around the classroom, hoping to make eye-contact with anyone in the room, looking through the familiar and not so familiar faces of her classmates; however, the only person that looked mildly suspicious was Timothy Hinklebottom, whose fur coat was three sizes too large and whose glasses were a vibrant orange that had made her blink several times in order to clear her vision and had strange slits slanting across his eyes. Just as she made to look away, the boy stood up and abruptly left the room, his posse following him obediently.

She glowered at the classroom in frustration for a moment before turning around, looking almost reluctant to cease her angered motion, but her attention was soon redirected toward Mr Flatley as he stood in front of the class. Rose clamped her mouth shut instantly as the register began.

"Welcome back, boys and girls. New year and a new term," said Mr Flatley, smiling widely. "Now for the register." Cracking open the leather bound book that sat in his hands, Flatley began the call that brought every morning to a new beginning, a new day to provide the students with a chance to prove themselves.

"Davina Berry?" Flatley said finally, breaking the still silence. A bored-looking girl set down her magazine, her manicured nails picking impatiently at the edges as she looked dully at Flatley, her very aura challenging those around her to speak a word that might cause her irritation. "Yes, sir," she said, shaking her head as she picked up her magazine once more, her plastic lips curving into a smile as she examined the new clothes she might buy on their next shopping trip.

"Donovan Butler?" Flatley continued dutifully. A boy in similar, popular clothes looked up at Flatley, as if the incompetent man had asked something that did not bring any interest at all; his hands plucked up the shoulders of his slacks and he looked at him almost challenging before finally saying, "Yeah," and picking up his magazine, an issue based on money and its uses, once more.

"Oscar Cole?" Rose looked around the classroom; she was sure she had heard it mentioned once before. A boy, his form hunched over his desk, looked up from the food he was pushing into his mouth to give a gruff, "Yes sir," before digging right back into his lunch. His dirty blond hair was mussed and in various states of disarray, sticking up at unnatural angles that informed Rose that this boy was very stressed; his thin, slightly scrawny form was hunched in a state that gave her the intel that he might have had to run for his life once or twice before. His eyes looked like they had seen too much.

"Avril Franklin?" A girl looked up from the drawing she was creating, her dark eyes dull and questioning, her dark purple hair framing her face, her eyes half-lidded from either sleep or disinterest. The girl clenched her fist and dropped the marker she had in her hand onto the page, drawing Rose's attention to the scribble that she had created artfully. "Yes," she said quietly, her eyes averting as she looked back down almost immediately.

Flatley paused and smiled. "Rose Gupta?" His kind eyes found hers and her lips tugged upwards into a smile, her hands twisting in her lap as she sat up straighter, eager to please the headmaster. "Yes sir," she said keenly, beaming at him. He grinned at her and continued, "Hello there, Rose." She grinned back.

"Timothy Hinklebottom?" Rose heard a snigger from beside her, and she turned to glare at the source of the noise, a petite girl who was attempting to hide her face behind her hand as she innocently glanced around the classroom. After all, it wasn't the boy's fault that he had such a terrible name that was, without a doubt, rather embarrassing and degrading; she pitied his parents.

There came the sound of weak processional music from the corridor, and two boys, one with dark skin and a dull smile that would most likely have been fake, the other pale and looking like he had been forced into it, entered the room. "The upstanding," began the dark skinned boy, his fake grin widening, "Scoop Doggy!"

Behind them, a boy wearing an over-sized fur coat swaggered into the room, his body dripping with arrogance as the sound of applause came through the phone. Rose winced; maybe he had deserved the name after all. "I'd like to chill but I'm," he slid on his glasses, grinning widely, "picking up the poison here." He hasted to swagger into the room, but his shoelace was undone and he stumbled into Rose's desk. Sniggers resounded throughout the room as Scoop and his posse hastened to the back of the class.

"Adara Smithson?"

Rose turned her gaze around the classroom, narrowing her eyes as her eyes met the dully interested dark blue eyes of the girl sitting in the desk behind her as she dropped the Rubik cube she had been working on. "Yes, sir," she said brightly, flipping some of her hair off her shoulder and turning her attention back to the puzzle, her tongue poking out between her lips. "But… if you really want some future advice worth remembering," her tone had dropped and was now a silky, dangerous hiss, "you might want to remember that anyone who calls me Adara is going to end up with their head squashed into unnatural shapes. My name isn't and never was Adara. My name is Dare."

"Alright then," said Flatley faintly, marking something on his register as the dark-haired girl turned her attention back to the cube, now fully interested in the puzzle. "Carrie Stewart?"

"Here!" said a bright voice from behind Rose, and she turned around to face the dark-skinned gymnast as she switched her mild attention span back to the medals she was presenting to the blonde girls sitting on either side of her. "This one I got in a competition against the French…"

"Frank must've been joking," Rose concluded, looking around as Mr Flatley tucked away the register. Suddenly, she felt a familiar buzzing in her pocket and allowed a smile to stretch her face. Then, an idea in mind, she put up her hand, internally scheming as no one else in the classroom had done the same. "Sir, I have to take this month's rainfall readings," she reported.

"Alright, Rose," said Flatley mildly, gesturing towards the door. She slid out of the classroom and harried down the corridors towards the caretaker's store cupboard.

Pausing outside to glance up and down the hallway, Rose began impatiently tapping her communicator against her thigh. The glower was on her face and the impatience she had inherited from her mother was shining out now that she had a reason to show it.

Just as she was about to give up, the sound of the door opening halted her in her tracks. Rose looked up, hoping desperately that no one in that classroom had been chosen for this as they were surely hopeless.

Lady Luck was not on time. Dare Smithson, Carrie Stewart and Oscar Cole were swaggering down the corridor, smirking at her bemused and dumbfounded face; she still had a speckle of hope, however – they might have just been following her to see where she went, she conceded.

This observation, however, was squashed when Dare leaned past her, sliding open the scanner; Oscar finished the motion, pressing his thumb onto the scanner as Carrie laughed. "It's called deep cover – you should try it sometime," said Oscar smartly, sliding in through the door.

"I do!" Rose gave in to the frustration, following the other teenager into the lift. Carrie and Dare shared an amused glance before following their two teammates into the lift shaft.

"You do a poor job, then. You looked not at all suspicious looking around the classroom like that," Dare hummed. Rose's reply was cut off once Carrie leaned over and pulled on the broom handle.

The buzzer cut through her voice and suddenly the foursome were speeding downwards underneath the school, the walls flashing with blinding lights; Rose squinted through the darkness to see their faces as their clothes were replaced with the latest spy gear, their hair styled appropriately; none of them were fazed by the sudden change in clothing. She sighed; it appeared she would be the babysitter for this team.

Just as the lift doors slid open, Rose found herself coolly analysing the lab for any sign of distress; to some degree, she found that her team members were doing the same. Maybe they weren't so incompetent after all. As one, they moved cautiously into headquarters, their eyes sharp as they glanced around for any sign of Frank.

"Hello?" called Carrie, shaking her head.

"Over there," hissed Dare, her eyes sharpening. Her fingers gestured towards the far left corner, but none of the others had much time to react after her observation. There was a loud explosion and then Frank was striding forwards with his trademark grin smeared across his face and a slightly strange looking radio-like object in his hands.

"I never could get one past you, Dare," he said pleasantly, smiling. "Controlled explosions – Blane and Daisy weren't the only ones to be reassigned." He threw the radio behind him carelessly. Rose rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Where're they anyway?" asked Carrie curiously.

Frank smiled. "They're heading up to Unit Alpha, training other young spies like yourselves to join MI9 one day," he gestured to them and Rose felt a sudden, proud feeling swell up in her chest. "We may be a new and untested team," Frank continued proudly, "but the spies at SKUL won't know what hit them. Rose's brilliant mind has already saved the UK on countless occasions," he gestured to the smug spy standing in front of him.

He continued, "Carrie's not only a top gymnast, but if you put her up against an army of kung-fu mugs, and she'll eat them for breakfast." Carrie smiled.

"Only if I'm hungry," she interjected, grinning.

"Oscar speaks fourteen languages, specialises in surveillance, an expert in deep-cover ops; his mum was one of MI9s top spies!" he grinned as Oscar shifted uncomfortably, clearly not wanting the attention. Rose's eyes widened… clearly they weren't so incompetent after all.

"Your mother's a spy?" Rose asked, unable to keep the shock out of her tone. She hadn't expected so much from these three people.

"So's mine. Just… not for the government," Carrie interjected, shifting.

"Dare's been working with MI9 for the past three years. Her parents were the top pair in MI9 history; her mum was a scientist and her father was one of the best agents we've ever had – surely she's not some stranger to danger. Her senses and reflexes are the strongest that we've had in a century. Once she's gotten your scent, she knows exactly where you are whenever you're within three miles of where she is! She can see for a mile radius!"

Dare's grin was blinding. "You're exaggerating, Frank," she said, but then added, "It's two miles both ways."

"A – A mile? That's scientifically impossible!" Rose gaped at her.

"No, not if science was the cause for it," said Dare quietly, shaking her head. Oscar cocked his head and opened his mouth, but their handler intervened.

"Alright! Don't you want to know about your first mission together?" Frank rubbed his hands together. He leaned over and pressed a button on the monitor. "The world's monuments are being defaced and you're the only ones who can save them. They're being covered in provocative artwork," he pressed another button and the screen changed, the images of sacred buildings turned into a giant canvas for a sickened man pounding into her head. "It either mocks the host country or suggests the UKs got something much better."

"Do we have a suspect?" Rose asked, down to business.

"They're all signed by a British graffiti artist widely known as Kranky."

"He's the guy that's famous for no one knowing who he is," Carrie informed. Rose nodded, Oscar agreed and Dare's eyes narrowed, her nose twitching.

Rose's eyes widened. "The nations involved are angry at Britain?"

Frank nodded. "Very! And we can't have that because there's a major world conference coming up."

Dare froze. "It's the Anti-SKUL treaty, isn't it, Frank?" she asked quietly, shaking her head. "Oh, the world is screwed."

"The countries need to work together to defeat the Grand Master."

"The UK wants everyone to sign an Anti-SKUL treaty," Oscar continued, clearly having done the reading behind the mission before it having been issued. They weren't incompetent or haphazard, it appeared.

"And that's not going to happen if everyone's blaming the UK for the damage done to their monuments," Dare realised. "There's no chance!"

Carrie blinked. "So you want us to find Kranky?" she summarised.

Frank nodded, continuing, "And stop him and his aerosols," he made a wild gesture with his hand; Dare ducked the flying fist aiming for her face and slid neatly out of the way, instead standing beside Oscar, smiling. "To help, MI9 has sent this new gadget; this is great. Attach it to the palm of your hand and it sends secret text messages. There's a small vibration alert." Carrie had peeled one of them off and had already stuck it on her palm, and Frank was grinning; there was the sound of skin vibrating and then the other three were leaning in to see Frank's work: 'COOL EH?'

"That is so clever," Carrie breathed, awed.

"Yes." Frank turned serious, his face grave and forlorn. "The Anti-SKUL treaty needs to be signed in the next six hours. It's a tight deadline – let's go."


"Kranky's graffiti is made with an aerosol." She presented an aerosol, lifting it up in her left hand; it felt uncomfortable, but it would have to be in order for this demonstration to work and pass on the message. "The particle distribution pattern tells me he is left handed. He always sprays the same distance from the object, nought point three metres; everything's done with a Zambro brand car spray with an ultra-fine nozzle."

"Wow," said Carrie, nodding. It was clear she was impressed. "Rose, that's amazing."

"I'm sorry," Oscar cut in, arching an eyebrow at them. Frank had turned back to the computer screens, disinterested with her findings; Dare shifted and shook her head; Carrie was smiling faintly as she plucked the can from Rose's hands and began examining the aerosol. "But it doesn't prove anything. It could easily be someone faking Kranky's style."

"He kind of does have a point," interjected Dare, her smirk vanished and leaving a strangely serious expression on her face; Rose decided that it didn't suit her like it did the grin had done moments before. "It's not difficult. Anyone with even three brain cells could do that, Rose."

"Thanks," said Rose, huffing as she crossed her arms, glowering at the pair. "And I thought I knew a little bit about spying."

"Yeah. But so do we. We passed our training exams with flying colours," he pointed out, shaking his head.

"But that's not fieldwork," insisted Rose.

Dare growled and slammed her hand down onto the table, calling the attention away from the squabble. "First of all, can we all focus here? This is our first mission together – there is going to be many more. Do you really think that fighting amongst ourselves will accomplish those missions? Second of all, Rose, you've only done fieldwork because you've been given a chance. Now you have to give us a chance of proving ourselves instead of assuming that, because we were undercover in tutor, we're incompetent fools when actually we're the best that attended the academy for the past three years," she pointed out. "Third, Oscar has a point. We are not saying that you don't know anything about spying. We're merely pointing out all of the possibilities that could be there. This mission must be done perfectly and by proving you wrong we don't mean to damage your oh-so-precious ego. We are right and you just don't know how to handle that. Now, why don't the both of you shut the hell up and actually do your jobs – which, by the way, are definitely not attempting to kill each other," Dare snapped.

Oscar nodded assertively, Rose recoiled, Carrie cracked a small smirk, Dare clenched her fists and then dropped them once more, and their handler grinned.

"She does have a point," said Frank decisively. "Arguing won't get us anywhere. Let's focus on the mission."

"I'm confident that the artist making the graffiti is Kranky," Rose snarled, a dull flush creeping up her cheeks.

"If Rose is right, then we need to flush Kranky out," said Carrie, ending the argument with a tone of finality.

"Before he sets the whole world against us," finished Frank.

The team exchanged glances and turned back to their work, each one more determined than before.


"Hours of research, and all we've come up with is that Kranky's allergic to seafood," Carrie insisted, shaking her head as she threw her hands into the air. Dare snorted and shook her head, typing something into the computer with surprising speed and hunching over the desk once more, focusing her attention on the screen.

"And that his middle name, according to an anonymous source, is Albert," added Dare, scowling at the screen. "None of this is useful in the slightest."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "We might find out a little bit more if one of us went around with Scoop Doggy and his posse," she pointed out, hoping to redeem herself from her childish outburst hours beforehand. She had been far more helpful and slightly easier to work with than she had been before Dare had knocked her down a peg; she was attempting to bring up their opinion of her as one of the more responsible members and, in Rose's mind, it was really not working in the slightest now that they had an impression of how impatient and demanding she could be.

Oscar snorted. "Scoop? He can't even write his own initials. We're looking in totally the wrong circles."

"You've got a better plan I suppose," Rose snapped, giving away how frustrated she was with her three teammates. Dare subtly reached into her pocket and passed a five pound note to Carrie, grumbling incoherently under her breath. "What was that about?" she asked, slightly hurt, but they just flushed and didn't answer.

"Actually, I do," said Oscar, turning the attention back to him. "Kranky's first piece was called 'Wardrobe, With Attitude'; he's always regretted selling it on the market. I've arranged for it to be put on display with some of his other work – he won't be able to resist the temptation of going to see it, not with the way that Dare's been advertising it."

Dare smiled. "Why, thank you, Oscar… really, it was only an advert on eBay," she stage-whispered to Carrie, who laughed quietly.

Rose allowed the corners of her lips to twitch upward. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.


Dare sighed, picking up a plate and moving about the room. She had been elected, along with Rose and Carrie, to play waitress among the young art critiques as they browsed the artwork, while Oscar posed as the manager of the artwork company. It was a simple role to play, as she merely had to distribute snacks among the guests, but Rose was grumbling in her ears most of the way there and now that the exhibition had begun she was glad to get away from the grousing. Carrie, however, was still working at the table; every few minutes Rose would sweep back along and grumble to the other girl – Dare was glad to be away from her, even if it did sound a little mean.

"How come Oscar gets to be the manager?"

Dare caught this as she was walking past the table at the far end of the room; she smirked as she spotted Carrie's long-suffering expression and Rose's sour one, instead moving past them to stand beside Oscar, who leaned backward slightly to catch her anxious hiss of, "What if he doesn't show up?"

Oscar made a disinterested noise and shook hands with another admiring couple, faking a smile at their praise. "He'll show up," he said from the corner of his mouth. Dare nodded, a bare movement, and then began to wander back among the guests.

"Right," said Rose as soon as she came back to the table to restock on snacks, having passed them out already. "Have you got the gadgets?" Both Carrie and Dare nodded, reaching into their pockets and taking out the small slips, sticking them onto the palms of their hands as they subtly leaned over the table, plucking various snacks as they did so. "Activate them… now. Frank's got his on back in HQ. He'll be able to read them just as the four of us can. Now go."

"Alright," Dare murmured, picking up her plate and wandering back among the ground; she could see Rose and Carrie just ahead of her and turned the other way, heading back towards Oscar's direction. She received a shock when she almost walked into a young man, his suit slightly ruffled and looking haphazard. He was no suspect of theirs, but he certainly looked suspicious, and she resigned herself to keeping an eye on him for the rest of the exhibition. "I'm sorry, sir. Would you want one of these? They're completely free," she explained.

She could see, out of the corner of her eye, Carrie approaching an older man in his late fifties. The two exchanged words that she should have been able to distinguish, but the attentions of the young man before her distracted her; unlike most women, she could not multitask very well.

Dare felt a buzz on her left hand and allowed the young man to pluck something from her tray. Once the tray vibrated atop her hand, the man looked at her oddly, but she blushed and leaned forward to murmur, "I've got my phone underneath the tray. Don't tell my boss." He chuckled, nodded and picked up the biscuit, walking away from her. She decided she needn't keep an eye on him any longer.

"Alright then," she hummed, lifting up her hand, pretending to inspect her nails when really she was inspecting the message that one of her teammates, most likely Oscar, had sent to them. 'SUSPECT THREE O'CLOCK'. Dare looked up and met Carrie's eyes, nodding once and then gesturing towards a college student, his hood drawn over his face, disguising his body. She felt another buzz and then the reply, one that was meant for Rose, as she was closest, 'SEE IF HE'S LEFT HANDED'.

Rose gave the barest of nods before turning to the man, offering him the tray. He looked anxious for a moment and then Dare immediately zoned in onto the conversation. "Can we help you?" said Rose, forcing the tray towards him.

His nose twitched, a sure-fire sign that he was nervous. "I was just trying to score a few snacks," he admitted. "I'm a student. Sorry about that." Rose nodded once and smiled at him, assuring him that it was alright. He plucked a biscuit from the tray and disappeared into the crowd. Dare's heart settled in her chest, where it had been beating erratically – he had been right handed.

She could feel Oscar's heart miss a beat and looked up towards him, concerned, but he just looked disappointed; it appeared that their teammate had sent them all a message. Sure enough, once Dare glanced downwards, she spotted the 'HE'S RIGHT HANDED'.

Deflating, Dare continued through the crowds, hoping for a change and that Kranky would show his face.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Oscar's eyes narrowed as another hoodie walked through the door, his hood drawn up over his head as he chanced anxious looks around the room. He connected eyes with Dare, whose eyes had sharpened and whose posture had straightened. She was moving towards him purposefully, her strides long and determined. He wanted to lunge forward and handcuff the man straight away, but a subtle shake of Carrie's head told him no.

He felt his palm buzz and he looked down. 'DARE'S GOT THIS'. He smirked; she was probably the most threatening person on the team. Of course she did.

"Hi!" said Dare brightly, appearing at his side in an instant. "Snack?" she offered him the tray, beaming at him.

"Result!" Carrie grinned. "He's left-handed!"

"Yeah. Now let's see about his seafood allergy," he grinned. "I've hidden prawns in those olives."

Carrie smirked, and then they both watched the young man cautiously take on of the olives from the plates. Oscar's eyes sharpened as Dare's ears pricked. A slow smirk crept over her face and he knew that he was about to blow; suddenly, the young man doubled over, spitting out the olive; success.

"You alright?" Dare offered sweetly, frowning in a mockingly concerned movement. They were anything but concerned. The young man chanced her a glance and then seemed to piece it together.

His eyes widened and then he was running, sprinting towards the exit. But Oscar wasn't going to let him get away.

Oscar grabbed a hat from a nearby exhibit and threw it across the room; his arm twisted at an angle that would strike Kranky in the head instantly. He fell to the ground once the aim struck true. Carrie and Dare hurried over to him, and he and Rose followed almost immediately… unfortunately, so did the crowd. "Performance art," he came up with it quickly, so he was surprised when the audience began to clap.

And, as he exchanged grins with his new team, he was sure that this was the start of a beautiful friendship.


Kranky was hunched over the table, his eyes fixed on the metal as his head bobbed slightly to music that was unheard by the rest of the team except Dare, who was smirking to herself and wondering how quickly the rest of them were going to understand why he wasn't responding to the feeble interrogations of Carrie and Oscar. "We have some questions for you," said Oscar quietly, leaning across the table as he looked at Kranky.

"We just want to help," insisted Carrie, smiling weakly.

Dare smirked from her position in the corner of the room, crossing her arms. The darkness fell over her so that Kranky couldn't see her but her teammates would; he was supposed to feel her eyes on him and feel intimidated, but he really wasn't paying attention to the interrogation anyway and she doubted he would feel her if his ear buds were pounding out the music.

"It'll be easier for you if you just tell us everything you know," said Carrie after a moment of silence and no reaction from Kranky, whose head was now bobbing slightly to the music. Dare found herself attempting to smother laughter, instead morphing it into a cough as she hid her face behind her hand.

"Because if not, we have ways of making you talk," Oscar backed her up, shifting.

"We know you've wrecked a load of monuments, Kranky," said Carrie once more, attempting to grab his attention.

All of a sudden, the door was flung open and Rose stalked inside, her expression utterly furious, slightly amused and, most of all, quite deadly. She rounded on Kranky, yanking down his hood and the earphones out of his ears. Once her mission had been accomplished, Rose faced Oscar and Carrie, her hands on her hips and her lips pressed into a thin line, her left eye twitching slightly as she fought with the urge to throttle them. Dare smirked; she could hear Rose murmuring to herself under her breath, attempting to calm herself down.

"It's simple procedure," she snapped, finally breaking. "How could you have not checked? I thought you passed! And you," she whirled around to face Dare, who held her hands up as she moved forward. "If your senses are so strong, why didn't you pick up on the music?"

"Don't mess with me, Rose. I did pick up on the music, actually. It was, however, rather amusing to see you blow up like that. I believe that Oscar now owes Carrie five pounds. And I didn't stop him listening to it because, either way, he was going to be on the receiving end of your temper, and I simply made it easier for him," Dare snarled right back, putting her hands on her hips. "But, remember that I have faced far more dangerous things than the receiving end of your temper and I will continue to do what I see fit until your leadership skills improve and you refrain from trying to make myself and my teammates feel beneath you. Now – get on with the bloody thing."

Rose sniffed and sat down in the nearest chair, ignoring Carrie's smothered snort. Oscar was grumbling under his breath as he handed Carrie a five pound note and Dare shrank back into the corner, watching both Rose and Kranky with sharpened eyes. Rose cleared her throat and began, "So, Kranky…"

"What makes you think I'm Kranky?" asked the young man, sitting back in his chair as he casually unwound the earphones from around his neck. Dare's ears pricked and she leaned forward, faking a cough as she began to type out a message on the gadgets.

Meanwhile, across the room, Oscar looked down at his hand. It was from Dare. 'HE'S NERVOUS. TURN UP THE HEAT REAL QUICK, I WANT TO SEE HIS REACTION – DARE'. He smirked and leaned forward, grinning. "We matched your DNA against the trace on one of your paintings," he replied easily, noting the uncomfortable way that Kranky's left hand twitched under Carrie's scrutiny. "You are definitely Kranky."

Kranky looked between Oscar, Rose and Carrie for a moment, attempting to detect any trace of lying between them, but he seemed to give up after a moment. "Very clever," he said after a pregnant pause, waggling his finger at them, almost as if he was an adult telling off a naughty child, in a condescending manner. "And I like the edgy uniforms, too. You'd be like spies if you weren't about twelve years old."

Dare snorted, walking from the corner of the room. "We may be young, Kranky, but we're far more dangerous than we look. Didn't your mother ever tell you that looks can be deceiving?"

"Are you working for SKUL?" Oscar added, looking down to the point and frustrated.

"SKUL? Never 'eard of him," dismissed Kranky. Dare's ears pricked up and she shook her head. He was telling the truth, sincere down to the point of no lies in his tone. He wasn't playing them around; he was Kranky, yes, but, as Oscar had pointed out beforehand, it could be SKUL faking his style in an attempt to stop the Anti-SKUL treaty being signed.

Carrie gave an impatient sigh and fumbled in a folder, scattering images of the monuments that Kranky had defaced within the last few weeks. "Defacing all these beautiful monuments. Doesn't that bother you?" she asked, attempting to tempt the answer out of him, making him feel comfortable around four teenagers who 'couldn't do any harm'. That was the façade that they had attempted to put up beforehand, but it appeared that Dare had had enough of him underestimating them and had broken cover.

"No," said Kranky, picking up the image of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, now branded with his name. "I think it's quite clever what this bloke's doing. He's making people stop and think."

Rose, Oscar and Carrie shared a look, standing up and retreating out of the room. Dare looked back at Kranky for a moment before dutifully following them out of the room and into headquarters. She slammed the door behind her, making a show of locking the door with nimble fingers.

Oscar was attempting to sway Rose and Carrie. "Just let me alone with him," he was saying. "It's an interrogation technique the Romans used."

"A bit of the Eiffel Tower's toppled off, just missing a bunch of tourists," said Frank gravely, tucking away his phone. Dare's eyes widened and she leaned forward to look at the screen, hoping to catch an image of the scene before it turned. However, the screen had flickered to a new, and it was declaring, in block letters, WALL FALL DOWN. Underneath was an image of the now defaced Great Wall of China. "The graffiti's not just about insults. It's actually corrosive." He pointed at the screen.

"It's the same with the Great Wall of China," Oscar realised, his eyes wide. "The paint's… eating into it."

"All the other countries are blaming Britain." Rose looked shocked. "We've got to do something."

"No one will sign the Anti-SKUL treaty now," Carrie said, shaking her head.

"They will if I have something to say about it," Dare snarled, sinking into a chair and crossing her arms, glaring determinedly at the wall ahead of her.

"It's time Kranky knew what's really going on," Rose said suddenly, reaching for the microphone. Oscar glanced around the room, his eyes narrowing on Dare's form, hunched over the computer desk. Her eyes were shut, her smile relaxed, her ebony hair fanned out around her head as she slept. She looked far more peaceful than she did when she was awake and he decided that he preferred her this way, however horrid it sounded. Carrie was perched in the chair opposite him, her eyes tired as they searched the screen she was browsing and her fingers shaking slightly from hours of use. Frank was pacing behind him and Rose was now speaking directly about Kranky.

"Not only has he destroyed beautiful monuments, but the graffiti looks terrible. Kranky will only be remembered for wrecking things," Rose said, taunting the young man now alert and looking around the room for the source of her voice. The glass window was only one way – they could see inside, but he couldn't see outside. "The Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty – kids in the future will never get to see them. How sad is that?"

Kranky was on his feet and hammering on the window within moments. "Hey! No way is this down to me! I didn't destroy nothing, 'cause my work's been framed!"

Carrie, Oscar and Rose now walked into the room, each giddy with their new findings. "I haven't done no damage," he added, trying to appease the three spies.

"So you'll help us catch him then?" Dare asked from the door, looking pleased.

"Totally! This SKUL guy's well out of order!"


I'd like to say hello to everyone out there who's reading this. I'm trying my hand at fanfiction before something happens and I've gone past the call of the void. I hope that everyone is appeased by the massive length of all of the chapters and that I'll be updating once a week at best. I hope that you appreciate that this is my first story and that I'm quite panicky and paranoid about updating. Please read and review and I'll update as soon as possible!

Love,

Olivia