A/N: Sorry this is short! I thought it would turn out longer...ah well, please read the chappie.

It was the day of the re-interrogation. Smith was being escorted by Fillmore and Ingrid into the gray, mirrored room at the back of the HQ and seated him at the table. They noticed that he didn't seem to feel as threatened as he did at the first interrogation; this time he looked solemn, as if he knew he was going to regret revealing the information he had been keeping secret for so long.

Once seated at the table, Smith raised his eyes to the two of them and murmured, "I'm ready to talk."

Ingrid hesitated briefly, wondering if the boy was for real. "Ok," she began. "The last time we talked you said something about the heist 'not being about the bumper stickers.' If that's true, then what is it about?"

Smith sighed. "If you want to know the whole truth, I guess I might as well start now so you'll be in time for lunch…

"I used to be a member of this club. I only joined it because I thought that it was just a group of friends that trade cards and stuff, but it was a lot more than that. This was a bunch of kids who valued power in huge doses. They were determined to gain control over all of the students at X, but I don't think any of the agents knew why.

"Oh, yeah…the founders of the club had hired agents. The agents were supposed to make sure that no one found out about the club until they gained full control of X and spread around evidence that there was someone around who would be everyone's ruler. I was an agent…but they considered me as something like an amateur, so they never let me in on any big plans. All they had me do was spread the evidence and perform minor jobs."

"They call stealing the entire school's supply of bumper stickers a minor job?" Fillmore asked quizzically.

"I didn't steal the bumper stickers…it was a bunch of other agents in the so-called 'upper-class'," Smith muttered. "I was stuck with the little jobs, like sliding that note under the door. But before that I had eventually found out what they were really trying to do."

"And what might that be?" Ingrid questioned.

Smith averted his eyes to the gray tabletop. "They're trying to steal the five thousand dollar reward to the school," he replied.

Fillmore and Ingrid exchanged glances. So that's what Smith had meant before. Of course they hadn't wanted the lousy bumper stickers—they were in for the cash. "Would you mind telling us where your club meets?" Ingrid prodded.

"Not like you have any choice or anything," Fillmore added swiftly.

"And not like I've got anything to lose." Smith sighed again, and slid a piece of paper with writing on it across the table. "It has the address of the clubhouse. But listen, do not get caught going inside. They have the place wired, and believe me, you'd rather not like to know the reason why when most kids come in they don't come out."

After school that day Fillmore and Ingrid met at the front entrance. "The address is Sycamore Avenue," Ingrid informed her partner, reading off the paper. "Supposedly it's located a remote part of the neighborhood."

"So we'll probably have to look for it," Fillmore murmured. "Well, let's head out and find the clubhouse before it gets dark…"

The teens eventually reached Sycamore Avenue and once there the first thing they noticed was a large field of tall trees lined up at the end of the road. It looked as if a forest had once covered the entire area but the people who had built the houses had decided to leave that patch of wilderness where it stood.

"Now, who's betting that the clubhouse is somewhere in there?" Fillmore wondered aloud.

"Let's go," Ingrid urged.

Fillmore and Ingrid broke into a jog and sped towards the trees as fast as they could. After they made it past the first few trees they could see acres and acres of more trees ahead of them. "Ok…this will probably take a while," Ingrid muttered. "Should we call for backup?"

Fillmore shook his head. "Only if we really need them," he replied. "We could scope this area by ourselves easily."

Ingrid looked slightly defiant, but the two began searching anyway. They poked through the brush and greenery, looking for any evidence of a clubhouse or hideout.

It had been almost an hour when Ingrid, feeling tired and very dirty from practically sifting the dirt on the ground, noticed a wooden fence surrounding a large tree. Stumbling towards it as fast as she could without tripping over the underbrush, Ingrid peered up at the top of the tree to see a tree house perched upon the branches. "Fillmore!" she called excitedly. "I found it!"

Within seconds Fillmore was at her side. He looked up at the tree house, then at the tall fence. "Looks like we'll have to climb over it," he observed. "Let's go…"

The two of them ran to the fence and began to pull themselves up. But just when they reached the top a loud alarm suddenly ripped through the silence of the woods.

Fillmore panicked. "Jump to the other side!" he commanded. He and Ingrid dropped down to the other side of the fence, but just when they touched the ground it instantly caved from underneath them. After those few seconds they found themselves trapped in a tiger trap.

Ingrid felt something made of hard plastic bounce off the top of her head. She quickly recovered the object. "A cereal box motion detector," she muttered. "How quaint."

Fillmore stood up and looked up at the hole above them. "At least we got in," he stated. "All we have to do is get inside the clubhouse."

"Yeah…" Ingrid began; "But…how do we get out?"

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I had been working on finals at first but then a little while after vacation started I realized that I had to work on this fast! I think this chappie came out well—but tell me what you think.

Teaz