TS: Kersplat.
#1: Sweet Jesus, what have I done?
TS: Kersplat?
#1: Kersplat indeed.
~
True to her word, Triple Six was up before dawn the next morning. She could hear the occasional snuffle or snore from her team-mates' rooms as she made her way down the stairs and along a back corridor that would take her out the back entrance of the treehouse.
She had equipped herself with the essentials, changing her tunic for a practical black ninja-like costume. She wore the same sort of jetpack boots now that Numbuh One always wore, and had all her tools in her backpack.
Padding swiftly and silently down the corridor, she glanced back one last time at the warm atmosphere of the treehouse. She was undertaking a singly dangerous mission, and wasn't sure she would make it back.
"Triple Six!" A voice from behind her came. She jumped with fright, passing a hand over her shaking heart.
"Numbuh One!" She stuttered, breathing heavily. "What are you doing here at this abysmally early hour of the morning? Sane people sleep at this time!"
"Well then, I must be insane." The British agent said with a smile. "Triple Six, if you wish to cancel the mission we shall of course accept. We do not expect you to undertake it."
"Aw, get lost. I wouldn't miss it for the world, mate."
"Here. Um... I did it last night... it's not completely accurate, but it may help..." Numbuh One shuffled uncomfortably, holding out some paper to Triple Six, who took it and unfolded it.
"A map! Brilliant!"
"Um..." Numbuh One began, "we haven't really talked much about this... um... that thing in my room... um... I'm really sorry about it, I don't know what came over me..."
"Hell, it doesn't matter." Triple Six replied, studying the map. "In fact, you beat me to it. I was going to apologise to you for running off like I did. I'm sorry about that."
Numbuh One was visibly taken aback.
"What? It's my fault, I kissed you! You shouldn't be apologising at all!"
"You kissed me, sure, but I enjoyed it and then acted like a selfish cow, running off without a 'by your leave' or even a thankyou!"
"You... you... enjoyed it?" The section leader faltered. Triple Six smiled kindly back at him.
"Yeah. It was... brilliant... but... I'll be behind schedule if I hang any longer... see you later, maybe."
Triple Six kissed Numbuh One on the cheek and sprinted away down the corridor, hugging the shadows.
Numbuh One stood still, watching her go. He couldn't comprehend what had just been said. Surely she couldn't have enjoyed it? But... she kissed him! On the cheek, but it was a proper kiss! Subconsciously he raised his hand to his face and brushed his cheek with his fingertips where she had kissed him.
"Good luck, Triple Six..." he whispered, before wandering back to his room in a daze.
~
Triple Six had encountered no problems getting over to the Delightful's mansion; the jetpack boots she wore were adequate transport. Now she understood why Numbuh One wore them all the time.
Looking round for danger, she unlatched a top floor window and slid silently in, turning off the jetpacks as soon as she landed on the soft carpet. Looking around she realised she was in a small room, much like a storage cupboard. She tried the door, but it was locked.
"Bugger." She muttered to herself, rummaging in her backpack for a thin knife, which she inserted skilfully into the lock. She twizzled it round one, twice and – click. The door swung open. Triple Six slotted the knife in her belt and glanced furtively about before padding silently down the corridor, her black clothing blending perfectly with the shadows.
She saw light coming from an open door and sidled up to it along the wall before peering inside. What she saw caused her to gasp in surprise before she clamped her hands over her mouth. The man the Delightful Children called "Father" was on the phone, shouting at the receiver on the other end. Luckily he had not heard her. Whipping out a notepad and pen, she scribbled some notes on the phone call, which may be useful later.
"What do you mean 'no trace'?" came the enraged voice from the other room. The Irish agent did not have to strain her ears to hear the man, that at least was a bonus. "I pay you well, do I not, and I do not expect a sloppily done job, is that clear?... Well, you try again and again until the results are positive, do you hear? No, I insist it take maximum priority. Now you listen to me, I shall file a complaint. Don't say I didn't warn you!"
There was a click and a thud as the receiver slammed down. Triple Six's breath caught in her throat as she heard the heavy footsteps coming towards the door – if he left the room there was no way he could miss her.
Thinking quickly, she brought the small knife from her belt and thrust it in the wall, about waist height. She carefully tested her weight on it and, finding it to hold, hoisted herself up so one foot was standing on the blade and the other was not touching the floor.
Now if she strained she could just reach the wall lamps that were set on permanent dim, and she grabbed the nearest two and used them to pull herself further up the wall and thus out of sight.
She barely drew a breath as the dark man prowled past her. She waited until he was out of sight around the corner and then half a minute after that to make sure he wouldn't come back before letting herself slowly to the floor, breathing a sigh of relief.
She tugged at the knife handle, trying to extract it from the wall. Unfortunately, however, the strength at which she had forced it into the wall combined with her weight on it had lodged it firmly into the plaster, and it was not going to budge. She shook her head in resignation and carried on down the corridor.
After traipsing silently down numerous corridors and two flights of stairs, she came to what she was looking for: the cells. A series of dark, crumbling rooms with heavy iron doors that were used to secure prisoners lined up a damp corridor. Triple Six suppressed a shudder as she made her way down the eerie place, looking through a small barred window on each door as she passed.
None of the cells had an occupant, which confused her even more. If it was not the Delightfuls who were responsible for the disappearing children, who could it possibly be?
She silently moved down the hallway, almost wraith-like. The door at the end was locked shut, and the Irish girl cursed silently; her knife was still embedded in the wall two storeys up. She took a thin length of wire from her pocket and carried out the same procedure on the lock as she had with the knife.
As the door opened and she stole swiftly in, she was stopped by sickeningly familiar voices.
"Father? Is that you?"
Triple Six turned her head, dreading what she may see. There they were, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane, though Triple Six noted that there was something different about them. They were staring expectantly at the door, but could not see Triple Six as her dark clothing camouflaged her with the shadows. She swiftly closed the door and locked it, and the four enemy children slumped backward dejectedly.
... Four?
Triple Six did a quick scan of the room, which confirmed her suspicions. There were only four of the Delightful Children – the boy who always wore the football helmet was nowhere to be seen.
She snapped back to her current predicament. She was trapped in a room with her arch-enemies, who even now were advancing curiously towards her, though they could not yet see her. If they came any closer, however, there was no way they could avoid bumping into her. It looked as though she would need her specially developed weapons: the S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T.s.
~Kids Next Door: S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T. – Super Tiny Implement Calmly Konnects A Person On Roof Tiles.
Triple Six was equipped with four S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T.s, one on each hand and one on the sole of each boot. She used them to climb up the wall and then she crouched on the ceiling, watching her enemies and calculating her escape.
One of the Delightfuls tried the door handle, only to find it was locked again. As one being the four children walked over to the single, small window in the room. Triple Six looked at it too, wondering if she could use it to get away.
Suddenly one of the S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T.s detached from the ceiling.
"Oh, f – " Triple Six's cry was cut off as her landing winded her. The Delightful Children's heads whipped round to look at her sprawled on the floor.
"What the – ?" The four collective voices gasped. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?"
Triple Six picked herself up off the floor and backed into the corner, bringing a F.R.E.E.Z.E. gun out of her pocked.
"Don't move! Stand still, or you really will freeze!" She ordered, training the weapon on the advancing children, who stopped moving and raised their hands.
"Where's your mate?" The Irish agent asked, indicating the space where the missing Delightful should have stood.
"We beg your pardon?"
"The guy with the helmet, you stupid rats! Where is he?"
The Delightful Children pondered this a moment and then answered with a single word:
"gone."
All of a sudden a red lamp flashed and an alarm blared. Triple Six jumped with fright, before swallowing and trying to get over her respective shock, surveying the room quickly for an escape route. The man known as "Father" burst through the door, not bothering to unlock it. He flung the knife expertly and it embedded itself in the floorboards at Triple Six's feet, quivering. The Delightful Children, making the most of the girl's distraction, knocked the weapon from her hand and trained it on her. The positions had reversed in the space of a minute.
"Father" surveyed the captured spy, his voice laced with gloating as he spoke.
"Never leave your weapon, it may cost you your freedom." He indicated the thin blade, which was still quivering slightly in the floor. "You may now tell us where you have hidden him."
Triple Six had no idea what he was on about, so she remained silent. Already a plan was formulating in her mind. It was risky, but it was her only hope.
"Come on, you stupid girl! It's obvious you've got him and have come back for another!" The shadowed man hissed, sounding quite aggravated. After a pause, the Irish spy finally spoke.
"Never give your enemy's weapon back to them, they may use it to escape." And with these words she put her plan into action.
She grabbed the knife from the floor, cleverly using the flat of the blade to deflect an energy beam from the F.R.E.E.Z.E. gun. She activated the jetpacks on her boots and used them to dodge "Father"s lunge. She flew to the window, stopping just out of their reach.
"So long, suckers! Thanks for the info!" She taunted, laughing at the anger on her nemeses' faces. She executed a somersault in midair to avoid another beam from the F.R.E.E.Z.E and, before any more shots could be fired, sped away back towards the treehouse.
#1: Sweet Jesus, what have I done?
TS: Kersplat?
#1: Kersplat indeed.
~
True to her word, Triple Six was up before dawn the next morning. She could hear the occasional snuffle or snore from her team-mates' rooms as she made her way down the stairs and along a back corridor that would take her out the back entrance of the treehouse.
She had equipped herself with the essentials, changing her tunic for a practical black ninja-like costume. She wore the same sort of jetpack boots now that Numbuh One always wore, and had all her tools in her backpack.
Padding swiftly and silently down the corridor, she glanced back one last time at the warm atmosphere of the treehouse. She was undertaking a singly dangerous mission, and wasn't sure she would make it back.
"Triple Six!" A voice from behind her came. She jumped with fright, passing a hand over her shaking heart.
"Numbuh One!" She stuttered, breathing heavily. "What are you doing here at this abysmally early hour of the morning? Sane people sleep at this time!"
"Well then, I must be insane." The British agent said with a smile. "Triple Six, if you wish to cancel the mission we shall of course accept. We do not expect you to undertake it."
"Aw, get lost. I wouldn't miss it for the world, mate."
"Here. Um... I did it last night... it's not completely accurate, but it may help..." Numbuh One shuffled uncomfortably, holding out some paper to Triple Six, who took it and unfolded it.
"A map! Brilliant!"
"Um..." Numbuh One began, "we haven't really talked much about this... um... that thing in my room... um... I'm really sorry about it, I don't know what came over me..."
"Hell, it doesn't matter." Triple Six replied, studying the map. "In fact, you beat me to it. I was going to apologise to you for running off like I did. I'm sorry about that."
Numbuh One was visibly taken aback.
"What? It's my fault, I kissed you! You shouldn't be apologising at all!"
"You kissed me, sure, but I enjoyed it and then acted like a selfish cow, running off without a 'by your leave' or even a thankyou!"
"You... you... enjoyed it?" The section leader faltered. Triple Six smiled kindly back at him.
"Yeah. It was... brilliant... but... I'll be behind schedule if I hang any longer... see you later, maybe."
Triple Six kissed Numbuh One on the cheek and sprinted away down the corridor, hugging the shadows.
Numbuh One stood still, watching her go. He couldn't comprehend what had just been said. Surely she couldn't have enjoyed it? But... she kissed him! On the cheek, but it was a proper kiss! Subconsciously he raised his hand to his face and brushed his cheek with his fingertips where she had kissed him.
"Good luck, Triple Six..." he whispered, before wandering back to his room in a daze.
~
Triple Six had encountered no problems getting over to the Delightful's mansion; the jetpack boots she wore were adequate transport. Now she understood why Numbuh One wore them all the time.
Looking round for danger, she unlatched a top floor window and slid silently in, turning off the jetpacks as soon as she landed on the soft carpet. Looking around she realised she was in a small room, much like a storage cupboard. She tried the door, but it was locked.
"Bugger." She muttered to herself, rummaging in her backpack for a thin knife, which she inserted skilfully into the lock. She twizzled it round one, twice and – click. The door swung open. Triple Six slotted the knife in her belt and glanced furtively about before padding silently down the corridor, her black clothing blending perfectly with the shadows.
She saw light coming from an open door and sidled up to it along the wall before peering inside. What she saw caused her to gasp in surprise before she clamped her hands over her mouth. The man the Delightful Children called "Father" was on the phone, shouting at the receiver on the other end. Luckily he had not heard her. Whipping out a notepad and pen, she scribbled some notes on the phone call, which may be useful later.
"What do you mean 'no trace'?" came the enraged voice from the other room. The Irish agent did not have to strain her ears to hear the man, that at least was a bonus. "I pay you well, do I not, and I do not expect a sloppily done job, is that clear?... Well, you try again and again until the results are positive, do you hear? No, I insist it take maximum priority. Now you listen to me, I shall file a complaint. Don't say I didn't warn you!"
There was a click and a thud as the receiver slammed down. Triple Six's breath caught in her throat as she heard the heavy footsteps coming towards the door – if he left the room there was no way he could miss her.
Thinking quickly, she brought the small knife from her belt and thrust it in the wall, about waist height. She carefully tested her weight on it and, finding it to hold, hoisted herself up so one foot was standing on the blade and the other was not touching the floor.
Now if she strained she could just reach the wall lamps that were set on permanent dim, and she grabbed the nearest two and used them to pull herself further up the wall and thus out of sight.
She barely drew a breath as the dark man prowled past her. She waited until he was out of sight around the corner and then half a minute after that to make sure he wouldn't come back before letting herself slowly to the floor, breathing a sigh of relief.
She tugged at the knife handle, trying to extract it from the wall. Unfortunately, however, the strength at which she had forced it into the wall combined with her weight on it had lodged it firmly into the plaster, and it was not going to budge. She shook her head in resignation and carried on down the corridor.
After traipsing silently down numerous corridors and two flights of stairs, she came to what she was looking for: the cells. A series of dark, crumbling rooms with heavy iron doors that were used to secure prisoners lined up a damp corridor. Triple Six suppressed a shudder as she made her way down the eerie place, looking through a small barred window on each door as she passed.
None of the cells had an occupant, which confused her even more. If it was not the Delightfuls who were responsible for the disappearing children, who could it possibly be?
She silently moved down the hallway, almost wraith-like. The door at the end was locked shut, and the Irish girl cursed silently; her knife was still embedded in the wall two storeys up. She took a thin length of wire from her pocket and carried out the same procedure on the lock as she had with the knife.
As the door opened and she stole swiftly in, she was stopped by sickeningly familiar voices.
"Father? Is that you?"
Triple Six turned her head, dreading what she may see. There they were, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane, though Triple Six noted that there was something different about them. They were staring expectantly at the door, but could not see Triple Six as her dark clothing camouflaged her with the shadows. She swiftly closed the door and locked it, and the four enemy children slumped backward dejectedly.
... Four?
Triple Six did a quick scan of the room, which confirmed her suspicions. There were only four of the Delightful Children – the boy who always wore the football helmet was nowhere to be seen.
She snapped back to her current predicament. She was trapped in a room with her arch-enemies, who even now were advancing curiously towards her, though they could not yet see her. If they came any closer, however, there was no way they could avoid bumping into her. It looked as though she would need her specially developed weapons: the S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T.s.
~Kids Next Door: S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T. – Super Tiny Implement Calmly Konnects A Person On Roof Tiles.
Triple Six was equipped with four S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T.s, one on each hand and one on the sole of each boot. She used them to climb up the wall and then she crouched on the ceiling, watching her enemies and calculating her escape.
One of the Delightfuls tried the door handle, only to find it was locked again. As one being the four children walked over to the single, small window in the room. Triple Six looked at it too, wondering if she could use it to get away.
Suddenly one of the S.T.I.C.K.A.P.O.R.T.s detached from the ceiling.
"Oh, f – " Triple Six's cry was cut off as her landing winded her. The Delightful Children's heads whipped round to look at her sprawled on the floor.
"What the – ?" The four collective voices gasped. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?"
Triple Six picked herself up off the floor and backed into the corner, bringing a F.R.E.E.Z.E. gun out of her pocked.
"Don't move! Stand still, or you really will freeze!" She ordered, training the weapon on the advancing children, who stopped moving and raised their hands.
"Where's your mate?" The Irish agent asked, indicating the space where the missing Delightful should have stood.
"We beg your pardon?"
"The guy with the helmet, you stupid rats! Where is he?"
The Delightful Children pondered this a moment and then answered with a single word:
"gone."
All of a sudden a red lamp flashed and an alarm blared. Triple Six jumped with fright, before swallowing and trying to get over her respective shock, surveying the room quickly for an escape route. The man known as "Father" burst through the door, not bothering to unlock it. He flung the knife expertly and it embedded itself in the floorboards at Triple Six's feet, quivering. The Delightful Children, making the most of the girl's distraction, knocked the weapon from her hand and trained it on her. The positions had reversed in the space of a minute.
"Father" surveyed the captured spy, his voice laced with gloating as he spoke.
"Never leave your weapon, it may cost you your freedom." He indicated the thin blade, which was still quivering slightly in the floor. "You may now tell us where you have hidden him."
Triple Six had no idea what he was on about, so she remained silent. Already a plan was formulating in her mind. It was risky, but it was her only hope.
"Come on, you stupid girl! It's obvious you've got him and have come back for another!" The shadowed man hissed, sounding quite aggravated. After a pause, the Irish spy finally spoke.
"Never give your enemy's weapon back to them, they may use it to escape." And with these words she put her plan into action.
She grabbed the knife from the floor, cleverly using the flat of the blade to deflect an energy beam from the F.R.E.E.Z.E. gun. She activated the jetpacks on her boots and used them to dodge "Father"s lunge. She flew to the window, stopping just out of their reach.
"So long, suckers! Thanks for the info!" She taunted, laughing at the anger on her nemeses' faces. She executed a somersault in midair to avoid another beam from the F.R.E.E.Z.E and, before any more shots could be fired, sped away back towards the treehouse.