I was so surprised by her presence, I didn't sit down right away. Instead, I stood crouched in the back of the SUV, facing the rear seat, gaping at the Little O in amazement. So when the driver hit the gas, I pitched forward. The very first thing I did in front of the leader of the Odd Squad was sprawl facedown at his feet.

O'Cyrus rolled his eyes.

O'Cyrus was even harder to please than his granddaughter; although I'd been on a successful mission with him, I still felt I had yet to earn his respect. Now that he was an "emeritus agent" (meaning he was unofficially still working for the Odd Squad), he had stopped wearing suits. Today he wore sweatpants with a matching fleece and a fanny pack.

The Little O graciously leaned forward to help me up. "Oopsie," she said, somehow even making that word sound dignified. "Guess we caught you off guard."

I tried to say "yes" but was still so surprised, all that came out was a squeak of air.

The Little O pressed an intercom button built into the armrest next to her and spoke to the driver. "Careful, Orkney. Our guest isn't buckled in yet."

Orkney reflexively hit the brakes. Now that I'd made it halfway to my feet, I was pitched backward into the rear-facing seats.

Orkney checked to make sure I was all right. "He's fine," O'Cyrus told her, and Orkney started driving again.

I quickly buckled myself in.

The SUV pulled out of the front gates of the academy and headed downtown. We made it a whole meter before getting stuck in traffic.

I stared at the Little O and finally managed to form some actual words. "How are you out in the world like this? Why aren't you using the tubes?"

The Little O laughed. "THE ORGANIZATION is probably monitoring the tubes. If I want to be incognito, I travel this way." SHe pointed out the window.

Sure enough, none of the pedestrians or fellow drivers gave our car a second glance, completely unaware of who was inside.

"Without your security force?" I asked.

"I doubt we'll encounter any trouble, but if it happens"—the Little O nodded toward the driver—"there's nothing Orkney can't handle."

I glanced over my shoulder through the glass partition. Orkney was a kid of slight build and didn't look particularly dangerous, but then, neither did Orica, and she was capable of wiping out a platoon of spider cats.

Orkney's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. There was something in her gaze that said that if I tried to do anything to the Little O, she would kill me without a second thought. Then she went back to inching forward in traffic.

I returned my attention to the Little O. "So you do this often?"

"No. In fact, I almost never do. But I needed some privacy and the Big Office isn't the best place to get it. No one except those in this car knows I'm here. My staff thinks I'm taking a nap."

"A nap?" I echoed.

"I need them sometimes. It's not easy being the leader of the Odd Squad—and I'm always getting woken up in the middle of the night to deal with some disaster. Anyhow, O'Cyrus and Orkney arranged for me to sneak away. So here we are. It's interesting to be out here, moving around in the world like a normal person."

"Do you miss this?" I asked.

"Heck no," the Little O said. "I haven't had to stop for a red light in years. Being stuck in traffic like this sucks."

The Little O spoke in a bubbly way that made me feel extremely comfortable. I had already forgotten all about being awed by her and was about to make more pointless small talk when O'Cyrus held up a hand, silencing me.

"I apologize for interrupting, Little O, but we have far more important things to discuss than traffic."

"Of course." The Little O gave me a grave stare and started reading notes she had written on the back of her hand, "OJ, a tremendously serious matter has been brought to my attention and Agent O'Cyrus here assures me that I can trust you to help take care of it."

I glanced toward O'Cyrus, surprised he had said anything remotely nice about me at all. Instead of confirming this, he merely handed me a dossier.

I tried to crack open the secure seal on the file. Only, the seal turned out to be a lot more secure than I'd expected. I struggled with it for a few seconds but made no progress.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," O'Cyrus muttered, then snatched the dossier back from me and tried to open it himself. It turned out he couldn't do it either.

The Little O put a hand over his mouth, trying to hide the fact that she was laughing.

O'Cyrus threw the dossier on the floor. "You know what? We don't need to open this blasted thing anyhow. I know everything that's in it. The headline being this: We have reliable intel that THE ORGANIZATION is planning to assassinate the Little O."

I sat up in my seat, worried for the Little O; if anyone could determine how to get around all her security and take her out, it was THE ORGANIZATION. I was also worried because I was with the Little O. If SPYDER decided to kill her right then, they'd have killed me, too. "What kind of intel?"

"We've picked up chatter on various channels we've been monitoring," O'Cyrus explained. "Enough to make us believe this is a credible threat."

His tone indicated he expected me to be satisfied with that answer and not pester him with any more questions. However, there was still one I had to ask: "Who's we?"

"My team," O'Cyrus said.

"Who is . . . ?"

"Classified."

"I mean, is this an official Odd Squad operation?" I asked. "Or is it another unauthorized mission?"

O'Cyrus lifted his eyebrows, apparently surprised I had dared to ask this.

O'Cyrus said "As you know, I have expressed concerns before about the degree to which THE ORGANIZATION has infiltrated the Odd Squad. With the exception of you and Orica, I don't believe there is anyone at the Agency we can fully trust."

"Not even your son?"

"There are two definitions of trust," O'Cyrus explained. "You can trust someone not to be a traitor—and you can trust someone to handle things competently. I know my son isn't working for THE ORGANIZATION. But as far as his competence is concerned, I'd rather rely on a monkey."

I knew this to be true—although Oshton had managed to fool the entire Odd Squad into thinking he was actually a good agent for years. His single greatest skill was lying about how great his other skills were. In practice, Oshton was well-meaning but inept, careless, and prone to knocking himself unconscious. "Do you trust the principal?" I asked. "He was just informed that I was to be activated."

"The principal wouldn't know what was going on even if he was here with us right now," O'Cyrus said. "Yes, I told him THE ORGANIZATION was active so he'd authorize your mission without any delay, but I lied to him about everything else. He thinks you're infiltrating a prep school in Punkeydoodles Corner. And if THE ORGANIZATION's tapped his phone lines—which they probably have—then hopefully they bought it too."

"So, this mission isn't authorized?" I asked.

"The priority of this mission is to protect the Little O at all costs," O'Cyrus said, deftly avoiding answering my question.

"Are we working with the Big Office Security Force?"

"No," O'Cyrus replied. "THE ORGANIZATION may have infiltrated them as well. As far as I'm concerned, about 46% of agents are really moles for THE ORGANIZATION."

I looked to the Little O, wondering if O'Cyrus might be overstating things. The Little O shrugged. "Agent O'CYrus thinks THE ORGANIZATION may already have a mole in the Big Office—either on my staff or in my security detail—and that this mole may be part of the assassination plot."

"Can't you just swap out your staff, then?" I asked.

"The Big Office has far more employees than most people realize," the Little O answered. "On an average day, there are more than one thousand Security agents on the property, not to mention hundreds of staffers, plus cooks, butlers, landscapers, and who knows what else. I have three full-time florists working there. And every one of those people is an Odd Squad employee, which means it'd take a ton of paperwork to boot even one of them."

"Plus, it's still only a hunch that there's a mole in the first place," O'Cyrus added. "All I know is that THE ORGANIZATION is plotting to assassinate the Little O. I have no idea how they're planning to carry it out. Having someone inside—or several people—merely seems like a good way to do it. Which is where you come in, OJ."

I glanced out the window. We were moving slowly through traffic. Very slowly. Still, we seemed to be heading directly toward the Big Office, which gave me an idea as to what O'Cyrus's plan might be. "You want me to spy inside the Big Office?"

"Exactly," Cyrus replied. "And we're going to keep your profile at The Big Office as low as possible. Hopefully, THE ORGANIZATION won't notice. After you helped destroy their headquarters last month, THE ORGANIZATION isn't quite as powerful as it used to be. Its leaders have scattered around the globe and their intelligence operations are fractured. If we're careful, there's a good chance they'll have no idea you're on the case."

"How?" I asked. "I'm not technically an agent yet. I'll be the only one in the building without a uniform"

"You won't be the only non-agent inside," the Little O told me.

I tilted my head confused.

"My cousin Jason is visiting for the week," the Little O replied. "Jason is your age. He's been inviting friends over for the last 3 days instead of playing with me. It won't seem unusual to have you in the Big Office."

"Of course, you'll need to stick close to Jason to sell this," O'Cyrus added. "However, Jason himself has been briefed and is eager to help out. After all, his own cousin's life is on the line. You will present yourself at the BIg Office today—"

"Today?" I repeated.

O'Cyrus frowned, annoyed by the interruption. "THE ORGANIZATION's plans are already in motion. When did you think we were going to start investigating? Next month?"

"No," I said. "Sorry. This is all just happening so fast. . . ."

"A good agent must always be prepared for activation, anywhere, anytime," O'Cyrus informed me. "Your cover story is that you and Jason met through online gaming and hit it off. So he has invited you over to the Big Office for a playdate this afternoon."

I cringed. "Agent O'Cyrus, I'm a little old for playdates. Can we call it something else? Like 'hanging out'?"

O'Cyrus gritted his teeth. "You have a date to play together. It's a playdate. End of story. Now then, all visitors to the Big Office present themselves at a Building right outside the forcefield on the west side of the property. Jason has already placed you on the guest list. I trust you have your student ID with you?"

"Yes, sir." I took it from my wallet and showed it to him. He pulled out a gadget and zapped it. The Odd Squad Academy Logo at the top quickly changed into "Stuart Pidley's school for the gifted". However, my name remained the same.

"I don't get an alias?" I asked.

"Oh for Pete's Sake," O'Cyrus asked grumpily. He zapped my ID again and my name changed from OJ to AJ.

"Do my parents know I'm going to the Big Office today?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes," Cyrus said. "And they're very excited about it."

I pulled out my phone. I had been so distracted that afternoon, I hadn't checked it in an hour. During that time, I had missed four phone calls from my parents and received three dozen text messages from them as well. My mother wanted me to get a selfie with the Little O and my father wanted to know if I could get any cool Odd Squad swag.

We were still stuck in traffic. It seemed to be agitating the Little O far more than the knowledge that a THE ORGANIZATION was plotting to kill her. "This traffic is crazy," she groused. "If we go any slower, we'll be moving backward."

O'Cyrus pressed the intercom button so he could speak to Orkney in the front seat. "Pull over. OJ will take the subway to the Big Office from here."

"I will?" I asked.

"You certainly can't show up with the Little O," Cyrus said. "The Little O doesn't chaperone playdates. You need to approach the Big Office the way a civilian would. The subway shouldn't take too long."

"it'll be way faster than driving," the Little O said. "can I take the subway too?"

"Negative," Orkney replied, edging the SUV toward a red zone. "May I remind you, ma'am, that people are trying to kill you? It would be incredibly unsafe for you to be on public transit."

"Maybe no one would think it was actually me," the Little O suggested hopefully. "Who would ever expect the Little O to be on the Metro?"

"I'm afraid that can't be done, ma'am," Orkney said. "We're going to have to drive back like normal commuters."

"Ugh." The Little O frowned and slumped back in his seat. "Being normal stinks."

O'Cyrus told me, "Once you're through security at the Big Office, you'll meet up with Jason, and he'll take you around from there."

"If there's anywhere you want to go, just ask him," the Little O said. "He's been told to do anything you need to help."

"Keep your eyes and ears open," O'Cyrus ordered. "The moment you learn any actionable information, I want you to contact me. I trust you still have my cell number memorized?"

"Yes." My gift with numbers was my one great asset. There had been plenty of times when I would have preferred better fighting skills—or the ability to shoot straight—but being able to remember every phone number or location coordinates I'd ever heard and do complex computations within seconds would be extremely helpful when I graduated.

Orkney finally reached the red zone and pulled over.

"I'll expect a report once you're done at the Big Office today," O'Cyrus told me, then reached to unlock the door.

"Wait!" I said. "Is there anything else you can tell me about THE ORGANIZATION's plot? Who you think the mole might be? Or if it's a man or a woman? Anything at all . . . ?"

O'Cyrus groaned, as though I were being unreasonable with this request. "If I had more intel, I would have shared it with you already. We're deep down the mineshaft on this one."

"Down the mineshaft?" I repeated.

"In the dark," O'Cyrus explained. "Anyone anywhere could be the mole. And if THE ORGANIZATION senses we're onto them, this whole thing could go very bad very quickly. So don't screw anything up."

O'Cyrus might have been a great agent, but when it came to giving pep talks, he was awful.

"Good luck," the Little O told me.

"Thanks," I said. After that, there didn't seem to be any other option except to get out of the car. So that's what I did.

Hundreds of pedestrians swarmed the sidewalks, but none seemed remotely interested in the black SUV. The only person paying any attention to it was a meter man, already writing a ticket. "You can't park that here!" he barked. "It's a red zone!"

Orkney lowered her window and glared at him. "I'm not parked. I'm idling! That's allowable."

"Hey a kid shouldn't be able to drive!" yelled the meter man

Orkney quickly ducked below the Meter Man's view and slipped on a fake mustache before raising her head again

"Oh uhh sorry sir" the meter man huffed. "According to District Code 46a, subsection D, there is to be no blocking of the red zone for any amount of time for any purpose at all. . . ."

"How about the fate of the world?" The Little O asked, rolling down her window. "You see, I'm the Leader of the Odd Squad."

"And I'm the queen of Sweden," the meter man declared sarcastically. Unaware that he was facing the actual Little O, he dramatically ripped off the ticket and handed it to Orkney.

"Jerkwad!" Orkney yelled at him, then pulled back into traffic.

I headed for the Metro station, trying to stay calm. Less than an hour before, I had been in the midst of another normal school day. Or, at least, as normal a day as there was at the Odd Squad Academy. And now, suddenly, I was being sent undercover on an unauthorized mission against the very same evil group that had attempted to kill me. Without the backup of Orica.

It sounded extremely difficult, daunting, and dangerous.

And it was going to turn out even worse than I'd feared.