Continuing Transmission

Numbuh 1 sighed, his eyes darting from one end of the large computer screen to the other. New anonymous information had been sent to him, and he was reading it to make sure of its authenticity.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" he cried. "This is getting ridiculous!" Even for him, this kind of information was getting outright outlandish. Who would believe that a bunch of adults were going to blow up a pizza parlor, anyway?

He began to type some commands into the keyboard, about to delete the message, when a thought entered his mind, causing him to stop. Would it be possible to trace the message from the source?

He growled then, remember that that kind of ability was something that wasn't stored in his own mind. He shook his head, clicking one of the keys and erasing the message.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 'There must be some explanation for all this information,' he thought to himself. 'Where is it all coming from?'

There was a sudden beep from the computer, and Numbuh 1 looked up at the computer screen.

'A video message?' he wondered. Curious more than anything else, he pushed the button, allowing the message to come through.

A very familiar face appeared on the monitor, a tuff of blond hair covering his eyes, as a familiar, older voice rang through, saying, "Numbuh 1? Are you there?"

Numbuh 1's eyes shot up to greet his fellow KND operative, but the expression on his face quickly changed to surprise. "Numbuh 274?" he asked aloud.

The older operative smirked. "That's right."

Numbuh 274, the greatest KND operative in history.

After a minute of being awe-struck, Numbuh 1 cleared his throat a bit to regain his composure. "Greetings, Numbuh 274. Um…What can I do for you today?"

"Numbuh 1, I've been looking through your sector's mission log…"

Numbuh 1 cringed slightly. "Um…About that…"

"It seems to me that you're having trouble with something."

The younger boy looked up, nodding slightly. "Are you at KND IHQ right now?"

"Yeah. Luckily, no one else decided to go through you're records, or else you'd all be in some trouble."

Numbuh 1 nodded again.

"So what's been going on over there, Numbuh 1?"

"I…" He let out an exasperated sigh. "I really don't know. Lately, I've been receiving false information from an unknown source."

"An unknown source? Numbuh 1, you know that we're not supposed to take cases like that."

"I'm very aware of that, but what if what they were saying were true? What would I do then, ignore them? Our mission is to help kids. Even if those were totally untrue information, I couldn't risk not seeking them out in the possible event that they were right."

"But then there's always the possibility that they were wrong, just as you've found out…what? 5 times now?"

Numbuh 1 nodded gravely.

"That's why we're only supposed to take missions that the KND satellites pick up."

"I know, but… Isn't our job supposed to help kids anyway? If there are kids who need help, something that isn't detected by our satellites, what are we supposed to do then? We can't ignore them. That isn't what kids do."

Numbuh 274 sighed, knowing full well that Numbuh 1 had a point. It was natural for a kid to yield to a plea for help. It was something that they just did.

"I know, Numbuh 1, but…" That's when the older operative noticed that Numbuh 1 seemed to be distracted by something else. Even with the sunglasses, Numbuh 274 could see the slight hurt in his eyes.

"So, what's wrong?"

Numbuh 1 looked up. "What?"

"This isn't about the missions anymore, is it, Numbuh 1? Something else is bothering you."

There was no point arguing against it. "You could tell, huh?"

"Yeah. So, what's going on? Problems in your sector?"

"I guess you could say that," Numbuh 1 replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I see. So what's going on?"

Numbuh 1 looked down at the computer consul. "Well, because of the false missions, my teammates are becoming a little bit…frustrated…with me."

"I see."

"And…I heard them talking about me…and saying how I was a bad leader…"

"I get it. They're finding it a little hard to trust in you after all these false missions."

Numbuh 1 nodded. "I want to be able to change, and to become a better leader for them, but they refuse to talk about it when I'm around. How can I know what they want from me as a leader if they don't talk to me?"

Numbuh 274 scratched his head. "Can I ask you something, Numbuh 1?"

"What's that?"

"Do consider your teammates just 'teammates'?"

The younger boy looked up at his fellow operative, confusion sweeping his face. "What?"

"Do you consider your teammates just that, or do they mean more to you than that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you just treated the others as your teammates, then you would have more problems than if you treated them as your friends."

Numbuh 1 stared up at him.

"Friends listen to each other, right? They value each others opinions, and they respect each other. Whereas a leader with his teammates, a leader would just do whatever he wanted, without listening to the others, and they would get fed up with their leader."

Numbuh 1 nodded. "I think I understand. But what am I going to do about it?"

"Well, the others are your friends, aren't they?"

"Of course they are."

"Then listen to them, and get them to listen to you. That's what friends do. I'll tell you, Numbuh 1, you are so lucky to have friends like those."

The younger operative looked a bit puzzled. "Lucky?" he asked.

"Yeah, you are."

"Well, what about you? You're one of the most well known and respected operative of the Kids Next Door. Everyone wants to be like you. You even have your own merchandising. All operatives would feel honored and privileged for the chance to meet you."

Numbuh 274 nodded. "That's true. But I would trade all of that for friends like yours."

Numbuh 1 stared in disbelief. "You would?"

"Yeah, I would. When I first became an operative of the Kids Next Door, I had decided to become a lone operative. But I soon realized what a mistake that was. And as I watch other teams, I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I had a team of my own."

The leader couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Then couldn't you request one? Couldn't you find other operatives to be part of your team?"

Numbuh 274 disregarded that statement with a wave of his hand. "Sure, I could, but you know how long that takes. That's time that I don't have. Plus, you know the procedure that new recruits would have to go through. It's a long process, and someone from the KND IHQ would have to go over there and see what they're like, we'd have to gather information, process that in the main IHQ computer, create a file, and all that stuff. I can't do that, I don't have time for that.

"But for you…You're team is already there with you, and they will be for as long as you all are part of the Kids Next Door. They'll be there to help and support you. They'll be there for you."

"But they're angry with me!" Numbuh 1 reminded him. "What am I supposed to do about that? What can I do?"

"Listen to what they have to say, and get them to listen to you. That's the only thing you can do."

"But what if they don't listen to me?"

"Then you'll have to rethink the way you act towards them. Find ways to be a little less like a controlling leader, and more like a friend."

Thinking about it for a while, Numbuh 1 nodded and smiled slightly. "Thank you for the advice, Numbuh 274. I think I understand. You've helped me a great deal."

Numbuh 274 smirked then. "It's what I do," he replied, and suddenly, the screen went blank.

Pressing a button, the computer was turned off, and Numbuh 1 pushed the chair away from the consul. Rubbing his chin, his eyes wandered around the control room, until they settled on a gray file cabinet.

Getting up, he slowly walked toward the file cabinet, opening the second drawer. Inside the drawer were folders, a name written on the tabs of each folder.

'Why are they in alphabetical order?' he wondered as he thumbed through them. 'Beatles, Wallace "Wallabee", Gilligan, Hoagie P. Jr., Lincoln, Abigail "Abby", Sanban, Kuki…'

He stopped when he reached his own file. 'Uno, Nigel.' Pulling it out, he closed the drawer, and looked through his file. As his eyes rested on one of the pages, they widened.

'Friends listen to each other. So, what are my friends telling me?'

Something clicked in the back of his mind, and it spread throughout, until he finally grasped it, accepting it.

Grabbing a clipboard, he exited the room. He needed to talk to the others immediately.

Transmission Interrupted