Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the 39 Clues. But I wish I did! Then I'd be rich…

Chapter 1 Ian's birthday

Vesper One's message came three days ago. Amy and Dan were running across the continents. They had only 23 hours and 36 minutes to go until the deadline came.

In Attleboro Ian Kabra was alone in the comm. center. Evan was in school and Sinead had gone downstairs to the kitchen to get something to eat. And Ian had locked the Egyptian Mau in Evan's room. That would keep the annoying cat out of his sight for a few hours until it found its way out. So Ian wasn't worried about anybody interrupting him at the moment, he wanted to study that scrap of paper from the DeOssie factory. For the past few days he'd been too busy to even think about it, but now he felt it was important. The Lucian crest on the paper, it looked strangely familiar.

Then he remembered that there was another person here: Michele Wang, the Chinese-American girl who had been recommended by Erasmus to help out at the comm. center.

Sinead had grilled Michele for hours before letting her into the comm. center. Even though Erasmus had assured them that he'd known Michele for five years and that she was completely trustworthy, they knew that anybody could be a Vesper in disguise.

Sinead at least approved of Michele, but Evan clearly didn't like her. Probably because of the suits she wore all the time.

Ian didn't dislike Michele, but he wasn't interested in her either. She, like him, was a Lucian, but unlike him, she was considerably rich, having earned the money herself by writing novels using a pen name. He was only slightly irritated by her fine and (as he supposed) expensive suits. He knew she didn't mean to insult him, she'd walked into the door of the mansion dressed like that. He wondered what Natalie would think of Michele's choice of wear.

The DNA tests had proven Michele as a Cahill, but Ian thought she was more of a Janus /Lucian.

When she'd first set foot in the comm. Center she had proven herself to be at least worthy as an organizer by sorting out all the paper notes they'd stuck onto the wall and strings into detailed categories. (Under the supervision of Sinead) Ian had to admit that the comm. Center had looked a lot better after Michele's arrival; the notes were being printed out and put into folders.

He had just opened the notebook to examine the scrap of paper when Sinead appeared at the door. He quickly slammed the notebook shut and crammed it pack into his pocket.

"How's it going, Ian?" Sinead asked as she opened one of the computers while still drinking a cup of juice. "Any new breakthroughs?"

"Not at the moment." Ian replied, "Where's Michele?"

Sinead opened a program on the computer, "She left me a message telling me that she was going to meet her editor to discus her next novel. I don't know if she's telling the truth."

"You should have planted a tracking device on her." Ian told her as he scrolled down the Cahill message board, nothing new.

"Already done that, I'm checking now." Sinead clicked on a page and squinted at the screen, "She's at her editor's office. I'm sure she won't notice the gadget."

She spun her chair around to face Ian, "but that's not what I wanted to tell you, do you know what's special about tomorrow?"

Ian frowned, "Vesper One's deadline?" Nothing else was on the Cahill calendar.

Sinead sighed, "That's only part of what happens tomorrow. Seriously, Ian, can't you remember why tomorrow is so special?"

Ian shook his head, "Besides that it might be the last day one of the hostages will live, there aren't any important events that I know of."

"Tomorrow's your birthday, Ian!" Sinead exclaimed exasperated, "And we're going to hold a party for you. I know it's not the time, but we do need to have some fun and relax."

"Really, Sinead, "Ian grumbled. He'd forgotten that he'd be 17 tomorrow; Isabel had always told him and Natalie that only the people who didn't have enough money to enjoy luxury everyday celebrated birthdays. "There really isn't time for one now."

"I've already got everything ready," Sinead said sternly, "Jonah and Hamilton will come, and Evan will too. I'm contacting Michele now." Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed the message. "Oh, and Erasmus might come too."

There was a long silence in which Ian just stared at Sinead's computer screen. Only Sinead would think of holding a birthday party at a time like this.

After some time Michele's message came:

Thanks, but tomorrow the novel will be published and I'll have to be there to sign the papers. I'm really sorry. I'll drop off Ian's birthday present tonight. What would he like? I'll buy the cake if it's convenient. Please tell Ian that I'll drop in later to say Happy Birthday. Michele W.

Ian chuckled quietly after he read the message. Actually, he sort of liked Michele. Her kind of thoughtfulness was so different from Evan's or Sinead's. And even more different than Amy's sometimes-thoughtfulness. He had to admit that it was some what…charming.

"So what do you want for your birthday present?" Sinead asked as she began to type back a reply, "Now you'll just have to celebrate. For the cake…chocolate, or…?"

Ian shrugged, "Just tell her to get anything."

Sinead smiled as she pressed the SEND button. "I can't wait to see what she comes up with." And she laughed.

Michele sighed as she stepped out of her editor's office after two hours. Adjusting her suit slightly she walked out of the building into the cold atmosphere outside.

She took out her smart phone and looked up the best cake stores around. Then chose the closest one and studied the address.

After five minutes she was standing before a fancy looking bakery store. Walking inside, she was greeted by the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries. While on her way to the cake section she spotted a jar filled with almond cookies. The kind that she'd eaten before eight years ago. In China.

Instinctively she reached out to rub the jade pendant on her necklace but stopped herself as she tore her gaze away from the jar.

She marveled at the variety and, of course, the price. She'd never gotten used to the luxury stores. After all she'd only been rich for three years, before that she had only a few hundred dollars with her when she finally got a letter acknowledging the acceptance of her first novel.

The cakes were all so delicate and beautiful, so what did that boy Ian like?

"may I help you?" The voice of the saleswoman almost made her jump.

"Yes. Thank you." she said smoothly, "Tomorrow is my cousin's birthday I'd like to order a birthday cake for his birthday party." It was the truth.

If the saleswoman was curious about why a girl who was only 15 years old was wearing a finely tailored suit she didn't show it. "What kind of cake would you like?"

Michele chose not to answer her question. "He's a year older than me." She said simply, hoping that the saleswoman would pick up the hint.

Te saleswoman showed her a row of cakes farther down the shop.

Michele sighed quietly as she scanned the row, then a certain one caught her eye, it was shaped like a chessboard with all the playing pieces made out of frosting.

"That one would be fine." She said as she pointed to the cake. "Can it be sent to this address at 7 o'clock tomorrow morning?"

The saleswoman had her fill out an order and Michele prepaid the whole amount.

Two days ago when she'd gone to the comm. Center to continue with the note sorting she saw Ian playing chess on a computer. And the skill…she'd made a mental note to be careful if she ever played chess with him.

She stepped out of the store and thought about the birthday present. She spotted a fashion store and remembered the suits that Ian wore. Hoping he wouldn't take it as an insult, she hailed a taxi and told the driver the address of a certain store.