Special Delivery

Author's note: I finished "A Redhead's Lunch," so I can work on this story now. I'm anxious to play this through to its end. I usually wait until my regular reviewer, Mat, has reviewed my last chapter before I make the next, but who says I have to do that?

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Chapter 2: Let's Begin
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Several things happened in the days that led up to Saturday. I became reporter and photographer for the high school newsletter, Spy Kids.
Sam aced her history exam, as usual. Alex rented some James Bond videos to watch later that week. Clover and Mandy tied for first place in the local fashion competition - who'd have thought?

Finally, the big day came. I was confident in my plan, and Clover was WOOHP'd ahead.

SATURDAY 05:14 PM - CARLSBAD APARTMENTS PENTHOUSE
There was a knock at the door. Marvin heard it and, realizing that it couldn't be the pizza delivery because he hadn't even ordered the thing yet, opened the door.
It was Clover, dressed as a cleaning lady just as I'd requested. "Hello. I'm the cleaning lady. I need to clean up this penthouse immediately. Don't worry, I'll try not to get in your way, and if I do, just let me know."

Marvin permitted Clover to start cleaning. As she went about her business, she struck up a conversation with Marvin. "So, what have you been doing recently?"
"Oh, the usual," Marvin responded. "It took all week, but I've planned an excellent joke to play on the pizza delivery boy or girl- I don't know which yet- who comes here today."
"You sure? I hear they've got a new pizza delivery team out that's more skilled than any pizza delivery boy or girl. You'll have a tough time getting by them."
"I doubt it. The day any pizza delivery person gets the better of me is the day that a blizzard hits the Sahara Desert."

"Well, what have you got planned today?"
"The works. I'll do everything I can think of. That new team doesn't stand a chance."

About fifteen minutes later, Marvin noticed the time. It was right around 5:30, time to call. He picked up the phone and dialed the number for Prince Pete's Pizza Parlor.

AROUND THAT SAME TIME
Having been WOOHP'd once again, Sam, Alex, and I "arrived" at Jerry's limo. The license number, WOOHP1, was what gave away its identity to us.
Our gadget packs were in the back seat. We retrieved them, stopped at Prince Pete's Pizza Prarlor, Pince Prete's, Prince Pete's Prizza, well, that pizza place to get the pizza Marvin ordered, and were driven to Carlsbad Apartments.

At that moment, Clover rung us up on her earring communicator. "Bad news, spies. Marvin's going to give you the works, or so he said. Be prepared for anything."
"We're ALWAYS prepared for anything," I snapped back. "That's part of being a WOOHP spy."

Jerry remembered something crucial as we rode. He sent a countdown to the girls' X-powders and my "X-DS" that showed us how much of the guaranteed 30 minutes, to the 1/10 second, remained.
"29 minutes, 38.2 seconds," Alex read. (Henceforth this countdown will be displayed with the all-caps location headings.)

CARLSBAD APARTMENTS - 29:13.3
Jerry's limo pulled up to the front door. We stepped out wearing our jumpsuits and gadget packs. Alex was carrying the pizza.
As Alex rushed up to the front door, Sam stopped her. "Wait, Alex. Marvin probably expects us to come that way. Let's use an alternate route. Say, up."

We all activated our jetpack-backpacks and flew up all thirty floors of Carlsbad Apartments to the penthouse floor.

Clover saw us. "Marvin, could you open the window? It's, uh, getting a little stuffy in here. The air is so stale."

Marvin was happy to comply, but not without seeing us. He leaned out the window. "Hello, Miss Green, Miss Orange, and Mister Gray. You must be the new pizza crew. I admit, I certainly didn't expect you three to come up this way. You get points for that."
Alex smirked. "Really? Well, we have your pizza. Go on, take it."
"Heh heh heh … Did you really think it would be that easy? I don't think so."

We flinched as Marvin slammed the window shut. Clover opened it again, but Marvin grabbed Clover's spray bottle and knocked Alex away with a blast of cleaning foam. Sam and I quickly joined her.
"Okay, THAT attempt was a bust," I decided. "Maybe we should just use the front door after all."

Having little choice, we went down to the front door. Alex stopped short of opening it. She faked an entrance, and a trap door opened below. We took a running start and leaped over it.

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What's next? Wait to find out!