RED SCARE
Ryan Rinkerman, 2016
September 9, 2016 is the 30th anniversary of The Wizard's debut. I thought that posting this story today would be a nice tribute to one of my favorite shows.
I do not own the rights to The Wizard. This is by a fan, for all the fans. Please visit the official site and support the people who made this wonderful show possible.
This story takes place in March 1987, shortly after the events of "H.E.N.R.I. VIII".
It was a beautiful Saturday morning in Los Angeles. In an unassuming suburban house on Elm Street lived Simon McKay, a small man with a big brain. Known as The Wizard, the 3'11" Briton made a name for himself as a toymaker, winning award after award, becoming one of the most recognizable faces of the 80s. The riches were nice, but the smiles he put on faces across the country…that was his true reward.
Simon was in his downstairs laboratory, displaying his latest toys to a group of kids, ranging in age from 6 to 17. He wore a white T-shirt with stylized TVs and lightning bolts on it, black pants, and sparkly red sneakers. He held a large red top in his hands. "It's time for the final demonstration of the day. Now, normally, a top needs a hard surface to spin on." He put the top on the floor and spun it, letting it spin wildly for a few seconds. "But this…this is a Sky Top!" He grabbed the top, pushing down on the handle. The Sky Top beeped loudly, and the green lights on top came to life. "Thomas, would you mind helping me with this?" The teenaged boy in the Pee-Wee Herman t-shirt knelt down, taking the top from Simon's hand. "Good. Now just spin the Sky Top right in the air, no need to put it down."
"OK…" Thomas stood up, then spun the Sky Top like normal. The top rotated in mid-air, spinning as if it was still on the ground. The kids oohed and aahed as it whirled around, slowly descending to the floor, continuing its spinning there. When it hit the floor its lights turned off.
"You like that?" Simon asked, smiling. "I've got one last surprise before you go." Simon motioned to a box next to him. "The Sky Tops aren't going to be in stores until the end of the month, but...I'm letting you all have the first batch!" The kids cheered, excitedly grabbing the Sky Tops from the box. "Go on, there's one for everyone! Take it home, share it with your friends!"
Most of the kids ran upstairs excitedly, eager to play with their new toys. The oldest of the bunch stayed behind...a 17 year old Soviet-American named Vitali Matveyev. He was tall and lanky, with a mess of curly black hair atop his head. He wore a yellow shirt with a gray cartoon wolf on it, brown plaid shorts, and well-worn gray sneakers. Vitali was a big fan of Simon's work, having played his ultra-realistic arcade games. He came to Simon's workshop often, always delighting in Simon's latest inventions.
"Vitali, it's so good to see you again!"
"Hello Simon!" He knelt down to get to Simon's eye level. "Jack says hi!"
Simon smiled at the mention of Jack Brooks, the teenager who had worked as Simon's assistant during the summer. He hadn't seen Jack since school started. "How are his classes going?"
"Not bad...he entered the Science Fair last month. His project left a big impact."
"They loved it that much?"
"No...it left a big impact. The explosion left a hole in the lunchroom floor. They are still fixing it."
"He'll get the hang of it. Failure's rarely the end of an experiment. Now he knows which method doesn't work."
"Jack is coming over to my house tomorrow. Maybe you can come over and give him a pep talk."
"I'm sure he'd appreciate that…and I'd enjoy that too. I've got six months' worth of stories to tell him about!"
"So I'll see you then?"
"Certainly." Simon held out his hand, and Vitali high-fived it.
"Farewell!" With that, Vitali got up, grabbing his neon yellow skateboard. He ran up the stairs and out the front door, putting his skateboard on the sidewalk. The young man put his headphones on, turning up the music on his cassette tape. Vitali skated home, waving to his friends as he shot down the sidewalks, expertly avoiding any obstacles. He'd been doing this for years, and by now was quite the expert. He slowed down once he got home, and was surprised by what he saw.
In front of his house were three black SUVs with flashing lights on top. Two tall men in black suits were leading a man out the house in handcuffs. One dark suited man had skin the color of brushed mahogany, with dark sunglasses and a shaved head. The other was fair skinned, and had highly gelled chestnut brown hair. The man they were arresting was buff, with short curly hair and a bushy mustache.
"Father!" Vitali ran over to the three of them. "What is happening?"
The one with the shaved head turned to Vitali. His ID badge had a photo of him smiling…unlike his actual face at the moment…and the name 'Kareem Walker, CIC' in large letters. "Sorry son, your father's been accused of some very serious crimes."
Vitali looked horrified. "No...NO! It's not true!"
"Oh, it's true all right!" The brown haired man's ID badge read 'Darrell Price, CIC'. "Your father has spent the past two years spying for the Soviet Union!"
"I'm telling you, I have done nothing wrong!" Vitali's father protested. "I have no idea what you are talking about!"
"Save it for the judge, Oleg!" Darrell snapped, leading Oleg into the back of one SUV. As the SUVs drove off, all Vitali could do was look on in horror.
Back at Simon's house, the mood was subdued. The radio was on, the weatherman talking about an oncoming rainstorm. The various appliances around the kitchen were broken…it hadn't been long since their last adventure, and Simon hadn't yet found the time to replace them. Alex Jagger, Simon's bodyguard, sat at the kitchen table as he drank his cup of coffee. "Do you know when Tillie's coming back?"
"I just talked to her this morning." Simon sipped his lemonade. "She'll be back on Thursday."
"You're pretty generous with the vacation time, Simon…I'll have to remember that if I feel the need to go to Honolulu."
"Well, it's been a very long time since she's seen her sister. I don't blame her for wanting to stay so long. At least you have Henri to keep you company."
Alex smirked. "Yeah, if he even WANTS my company…we didn't exactly get off on the right foot."
"That would have been impossible." Henri, Simon's robotic creation, rolled into the kitchen. "I do not have a right foot. Only wheels."
Simon chuckled. "You'll have plenty of time to get things back on track. There's sure to be many adventures on the road ahead, and I'm sure both of your talents will prove useful."
Suddenly, the front door was flung open, causing it to crash against the wall. "SIMON! SIMON!" Everyone turned to see Vitali run into the house. "Help me! My father! He's been taken! Arrested!"
"What?!" Simon got up from his chair and hopped off. "Why?"
"They say he is a spy! The CIC, they took him! It CAN'T be true, it just can't!"
Simon rubbed his chin. "Maybe we should give them a call and see what evidence they have. They can give us some insight into all this."
"Let me see what I can do." Alex picked up the phone, calling the CIC office. After two rings, someone picked up.
"CIC, Los Angeles office, Darrell Price speaking."
"Hi, this is Alex Jagger, CIC. I'd like to talk to you about Oleg Matveyev."
Darrell was quiet for a moment. "That's fine. Stop by around 6 tonight. But I can't have you over for too long, I have a very busy night ahead of me."
"All right. What did you find over at Oleg's?"
"Oh, plenty! We recovered lots of papers, and we confiscated his computer. I'll be glad to go over the evidence with you tonight."
"Great, thanks." Alex hung up. "We're good. I'm meeting him at six."
Simon nodded. "Tell me, Alex, what have they done in their investigation so far?"
"They're going through his belongings…and they took his computer."
"Computer?" Henri perked up. "I can give it a look. I know computers very well…as I should, really. I can catch things that may be missed."
Alex shook his head. "No offense, Henri, but I think they'd be a little suspicious of you. The CIC tends to hire humans."
"Ah, I have just the thing to help! Alex, Vitali, come with me!" The three of them descended the stairs into Simon's basement workshop. Simon ran over to one shelf, carefully picking something up with his thumb and forefinger. He appeared to stroke the small object with one finger, then walked back to the other two. Simon extended the palm of his hand; it looked like a fly, only slightly larger. Its body was a shiny silver, its eyes were a bright gold.
"I call it the Computer Bug." The fly flew around the room, making a mechanical buzzing noise as it did. "All you need to do is let it crawl into the disc drive, and it can copy the information on the computer to Henri's hard drive."
"That sounds easy enough!" Alex responded.
"There's just one small caveat. The computer has to be on for the Bug to read the information on it. Make sure that computer is turned on for a while, so we give Henri enough time to receive it all."
"I'll do my best," Alex said as the Bug flew onto his suit, crawling into his pocket.
"Thank you, Simon, thank you!" Vitali said gratefully.
"Any time, Vitali…one way or another, we will get to the bottom of this."
Alex waited by the front desk of the CIC office, wearing a smart gray suit. His gun was holstered…he didn't think he'd need it, but in this business you never could be too sure. After a few minutes, he saw Darrell in one of the hallways, walking briskly towards him.
"Alex Jagger! I've heard so many great things about you…good to meet you!" Darrell shook Alex's hand vigorously.
"Sorry it's under these circumstances. The Matveyev family are greatly distressed over this."
"Yeah, I wish the allegations weren't true, but we found some pretty hard evidence! Come with me."
The two of them walked through the elegant marble halls. "So Darrell, where exactly is Oleg?"
"We're keeping him in a very secure cell nearby. He'll spend the next few nights there while we go over the evidence."
"I see…and what has he been accused of?"
"You've heard of 'Sam and Misha', right?"
"I've heard a few agents talking about that case, yeah. Sam's a guy in America, and he's passing secrets to a guy in Russia named Misha, right?"
"Right!" Darrell responded emphatically. "We believe Oleg's the one calling himself Sam."
The two of them walked into his office. It was very neat, his desk free of clutter or any personal nick-nacks. Two office chairs sat in front of it. Darrell took the computer from atop a file cabinet. It was a portable one; boxy and gray, with blue stripes running along the sides. Darrell opened the front; the lid had the keyboard on the other side. The monochrome green screen was on the left, two disc drives were on the right. That would have to be where the Bug entered, Alex thought. "Do you mind if I look at it?"
"Don't touch it, Alex, we still need to dust for prints! Other Soviet spies' greasy mitts might have been on it!"
"Right, of course." As Alex took a seat, the Bug crawled out of his pocket, up onto his arm.
Darrell put on a pair of latex gloves, then sat down next to Alex. Darrell typed quickly, and suddenly the screen came to life, showing a wireframe model of a jet. "See that? That's the Ibis, a new jet that the Air Force commissioned. It's been kept a secret for over a year, and nobody is supposed to have this. And yet…here it is!"
"You don't say. What about those diskettes over there?" Alex pointed with his left hand as the Bug crawled across his right.
"Oh, those!" Darrell got up and walked over to the box of diskettes. "We're still examining these disks, but so far every one we've looked at has sensitive blueprints on them!"
"And those blueprints are for more American military hardware, I take it!" The Bug walked off Alex's hand, crawling slowly onto the face of the computer.
"Ohhh yes! If this technology made it to the Soviets, the Cold War could really heat up!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex watched the Bug as it crawled into the computer…
...and then Darrell suddenly closed it. "Anything else you need to know about the case?"
"No, it seems pretty open and shut to me."
"I hate to rush you out of here, but I have to meet with another agent." Darrell extended his hand, and Alex promptly shook it. "Great meeting you!"
Meanwhile, back at Simon's house, Simon and Vitali eagerly awaited Henri's assessment of the computer. "I am sorry it is taking so long, but there is no info as of—" Henri looked up suddenly, his eyebrows shooting up. "Oh my…I feel a surge of information! Wait…it is gone now." He looked at the ground sadly.
"Henri, what's wrong?" Simon looked concerned.
"The computer was turned off, and I cannot give you the information until the computer is turned back on. Perhaps Alex can stop by tomorrow…but for now, there is nothing I can do."
Vitali shook his head. "This is not going to be a good night…"
It was now Sunday morning. Simon was over at the Matveyev house, sitting on the couch with Vitali's mother. She was a slender woman with big, poofy black hair and large, square-shaped glasses. She was very clearly distraught, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Mrs. Matveyev..."
"Please, call me Sharon."
"Sharon…tell me about your husband."
"I met him six years ago when he came to America for a gymnastic competition. I was the secretary for the gymnastics studio, he struck up a conversation with me, and it just…went from there. It took a lot of legal work, but he finally moved here to be with me three years ago. We married last year…on Valentine's Day. He already had Vitali…his birth mother died when he was just five. We have had a very good life together until…until this happened…"
"I'm so sorry, Sharon. I promise you, I will find the truth. The truth never hides for long."
"Thank you. Simon…Oleg loves it in America. He told me it's kinder than the Soviet Union. Warmer. Cleaner. He would never do something to betray his new home."
Vitali slowly descended the stairs. He wore a white shirt with a tan cartoon hare on it and red shorts. His eyes had dark circles around them; he clearly hadn't slept well. "Hello, Simon. Any progress?"
"I'm expecting a call from Alex and Henri any minute now. Until then, all we can do is wait."
Alex's gray Corvette pulled up in front of the CIC office building. He walked into the CIC buiding…as luck would have it, Kareem was standing there, amiably chatting with the receptionist. When he saw Alex walk in, Kareem gave him a small wave. "Hello, what can I do for you?"
"Hi, I'm Alex Jagger, CIC." Alex flashed his badge. "I'd like to talk to you about Oleg Matveyev."
"Certainly!" He smiled warmly. "Do you need to look at his computer? I can pull it out from evidence."
"Yes, that'd be great…were you there when he was arrested?"
"Yeah, it was me and Darrell. Unfortunately, he's out to lunch right now. He goes out for Chinese takeout every once in a while. Would you like me to leave a message for you?"
"No, that's OK, thanks…I'll just need the computer. I'll have my boys examine it for you."
"All right. Here's my card, we'll stay in touch."
"That we will. I'll be right back, I need to make a phone call." Alex walked out, back to his car.
Meanwhile, at the Matveyev home, Sharon had retreated to her bedroom, feeling sick. Simon had his open carpet bag next to him on the couch. He was examining a small device…a gray, flat machine on wheels, with a dome and four antennae sticking out of it.
"Simon, what is that?" Vitali looked at the device with wonder.
"This is my mobile hologram projector. The holograms haven't been working as well as I'd like them to, so I'm doing some quick adjustments."
"Can I take a look at the—" The doorbell interrupted the conversation. "I'll get it!" Vitali ran over to the door, opening it wide. There stood his good friend, Jack Brooks. He had brown hair that stood straight up, and was wearing a plaid red and white shirt over a gray tee. He had a bulky red backpack on as well. Jack smiled widely when Vitali opened the door.
"Vitali!"
"Jack!" The two boys high fived each other. Even with how upsetting the past day had been, Vitali seemed genuinely thrilled to see Jack. "I have a surprise for you…look who's here!"
Simon hopped off the couch and walked over to Jack. "Here's a face I haven't seen in a while!"
"Hey hey, Simon! What's been up?"
"Well, we have a new housekeeper now…and a robot…life's just been a series of wild episodes."
"Whoa man, I wish I could have been there for them!"
"Well, our stories are all still being written...perhaps you can come along on the next adventure." Simon smiled at his friend. "How have you been, Jack?"
"Great! I'm dating Debbie Snow now…didn't even need that Instant Tingle vest! Which is good because, you know…tests didn't go well."
"It zapped you, didn't it?"
"Well…yeah. But my hair was already standing up before, so you couldn't even tell anything happened! Oh yeah, and I entered the Science Fair!"
"I heard…what exactly were you trying to make?"
"I call it Flameless Fire! I tried to come up with a new way to create a heat source…something to warm families up without needing a fireplace, you know? But it looks like I have some bugs to work out." He sat down, taking off his backpack and putting it in front of him. He took two boxes out of his backpack, the size of detergent boxes…one was red, one was yellow, and each had a black F painted on the sides. "There's powder in each of them! You just sprinkle both on the floor, and—"
Simon put his hand up. "Uh, it's probably not best to demonstrate it right now. Do you have any other inventions you can share?"
"Oh yeah!" Jack put the boxes on the floor, then pulled out two beige, vaguely humanoid figurines out of his backpack. "Would you believe I still have these?"
"Ah yes, the Puffoam!" Simon chuckled a little. "I don't think I'll EVER forget those things!" The Puffoam was able to grow when it was exposed to liquid. The only problem was the Puffoam grew a little TOO much…as they found out when it was tested in Simon's bathtub.
"I've been testing them…outside…and I haven't found a way to make them go any smaller." Jack said as he put the Puffoam back in his backpack. "But maybe we could still use its big size for something! Think about it…The Instant Boat!"
Simon smiled and chuckled. No matter how badly his inventions failed, Jack was able to find the bright side. That kind of optimism would take him far, he thought. Suddenly, the phone rang. Simon picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Yeah, it's Alex. I got the computer up and running at the lab. Henri's examined every byte on there, and he's ready to tell you what he found!"
"Thank you, Alex." He put the receiver down for a moment. "This is it, guys, the moment of truth!"
After a moment, a calm voice came on the phone. "Greetings, Simon. I have examined the files on Oleg's computer. His taxes from the past three years are on there, as well as bookkeeping from the gymnastics studio."
"When are the earliest files from?"
Henri paused for a moment. "They are from August 1984."
"About two and a half years ago…that lines up with what we know about Oleg so far." Simon nodded as he listened. "Anything out of place? Something that shouldn't be there, perhaps?"
"It's funny you say that. The most recent files do concern top secret American matters, but they were placed on his computer yesterday, at 2 PM."
"2 PM?" Simon looked concerned. "Oleg was arrested around noon...did you check and see if any files had been recently deleted?"
"I did. None of the deleted files had anything incriminating on them."
"So all of the 'evidence' didn't exist at the time he was arrested...it had to have been added after."
"My father is innocent?" Vitali looked up and smiled.
"Oh yes, Vitali, your father's innocent…but someone at the CIC is very guilty!" Simon turned to the phone. "Thank you, Henri. Now, stay home, and stay safe."
"I cannot join you on this adventure?"
"Not this one…you have very important information backed up on you. We need to keep you safe in case something happens to the computer."
"I understand. Good luck, Simon!" With that, he hung up.
"CIC? Military secrets?" Jack looked confused. "What did I walk in on?"
"I will explain later." Vitali turned to Simon. "Is it OK if Jack and I go for a walk? I need the time to clear my head."
"Oh yes, go on ahead. I will be here, I still have some calibrating to do."
Jack and Vitali walked outside, a cool breeze blowing past them. Jack had his backpack on, Vitali had his neon yellow skateboard under his arm. Vitali had filled Jack in on the situation as they walked. "Jack, thank you for hanging out with me. I really needed this."
"Hey, no problem, man! And hey, you got Simon McKay on your side! If anyone can fix this problem, he can!"
The two of them walked, making small talk...Jack did most of the talking, Vitali still feeling too sad to engage. As they walked past a park, Vitali suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
"Jack! Look!" He pointed at the black SUV parked along the side of the road. "This was the arresting agents' car!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! Look, a government license plate. I think one of them is here."
Jack and Vitali walked briskly through the park, looking around. "What are we gonna do if we find them, though?"
"I don't know…but if Simon says that someone at the CIC is involved, maybe we can find one of them doing something suspicious, and tell him!" They walked for another minute, then Vitali stopped in his tracks again. "That's him!" Vitali spoke in a hushed tone. "That's one of the men who arrested my father!" Vitali pointed to Darrell, dressed in a thick gray coat. Even with the reports of rain, he seemed overdressed. His right hand held a bulky plastic bag with a graphic of the Great Wall of China on it. Darrell walked over to a large patch of bushes. He looked around, then went in between two of them.
"I guess he likes having a lot of privacy when he eats." Jack remarked.
"Let's sit on that bench over there and wait." Vitali pointed. They sat on the bench, keeping an eye on the bushes and nearby paths. After a minute of waiting, they saw a tall, slender man with pale skin walking down one of the paths. The pale man wore a black suit and red tie, and held a leather brown suitcase. His brown hair was slicked back, his cheekbones were prominent, and his large nose hooked downward. He too went between the bushes. Jack and Vitali snuck over to the bushes, trying their best to listen in.
"Hello, Sam." The other man had a very thick Russian accent. "Thank you for the Chinese food."
"Any time, Misha." The voice was unmistakably Darrell. "Now that we have our scapegoat, I can go back to the regular assignments, right?"
"Negative. Things are very dangerous now. You must cease the spying activity at once, or it could get us both in major trouble."
Darrell was taking deep breaths. "Tell you what. Next time you leave for Moscow, I'll come with you. When are you leaving?"
"Five."
"Five days? Five weeks?"
"Five in the afternoon."
"Oh…" They could hear Darrell sigh. "All right, have someone come to my house and do some…cleaning…and I'll get everything out of my office."
"Good. You will certainly be rewarded for your help. I think the Order of the Red Star will look very good on your coat. Do svidaniya, Sam."
"Catch ya later, Misha."
Jack and Vitali ran back to the bench. "My father…those are the men who set him up!"
"Oh man, this is bad…Vitali, you get to the police! I'll go get Simon!"
"OK!" Vitali nodded as Jack sprinted away. Vitali was just about to skateboard off in the opposite direction when he noticed the big red backpack sitting on the bench. Jack had left it in his haste. Vitali grabbed it, put it on…
…then felt someone grab his arm. Vitali looked over to see Darrell Price, an angry expression on his face. The pale Russian was behind him, holding the bag of Chinese food.
"You scream, it'll be the last sound you ever make." Darrell sneered. "Misha, change of plans. Take him to the safehouse. I'll meet up with you there."
"Follow me." The pale Russian led Vitali out of the park, to a dark blue Cadillac. Vitali got in the backseat, putting the bulky backpack and skateboard next to him. The pale Russian got in the driver's seat, putting the bag of Chinese food on the passenger seat. He looked back at Vitali, emotionless.
"I recognize you. Sam told me about you and your family. Do not be sad. You will get to see your father very soon."
Vitali put the backpack on his lap. "I…my God, this is so much to take in. I feel so sick. Can I open the window?"
"Fine. But do not try and get out. I was the top marksman at the KGB. Do not make me demonstrate why."
"Thank you." As the car started, Vitali started fidgeting around, rifling through Jack's backpack…
Jack burst through the front door of the Matveyev house, running into the living room. "Simon! SIMON!"
Simon looked up from the couch. "Jack, what's wrong?"
"Vitali and I…we found the real culprit! We saw him talking to this other guy in the park! And we have to stop them soon…they're leaving the country at 5 PM!"
Simon checked his watch, then grabbed his carpet bag. "It's 3 PM. We have to hurry…get to the car!" Simon ran ahead of Jack, to his red Ford Bronco. As Jack was about to run out, he noticed his Flameless Fire boxes were still on the floor. He grabbed them and put them underneath his arm, then closed the front door, sprinting over to the Bronco's passenger side.
"Jack, where's Vitali?"
"I told him to get the cops," Jack said as he put his seatbelt on. "There's plenty of cops walking around the park, he probably talked to one of them."
"I hope so." Simon started the Bronco, preparing to drive off. "Now, the spies…do you think they're still at the park?"
"No…they said they were going to split up. 'Misha' never said where he was going, but 'Sam' said he was going to go to his office. Wait…Alex works at the CIC, right?"
"He does."
"So we can tell him what these people look like! Maybe he'll be able to identify them!"
"A fine idea! Jack, when I get to the park, you look around and see if anyone saw where the spies went. I'll call Alex and pass along the information."
Back at the CIC offices, Darrell packed his things into a silver suitcase, singing a jaunty tune. "Mosssscow! Mosssscow! Come and have a drink and then, you will never leave again! Hm hm hm hm hm!"
"Darrell, can I speak with you for a moment?" Kareem was standing in the doorway.
"No time!" Darrell responded curtly. "I just authorized a prisoner transport. Oleg's been deemed a flight risk, so I'm taking him to a maximum security prison."
"Darrell, this is important."
"So's this! I need to take care of this situation, and we'll have all the time in the world to discuss whatever you want! Talk to you later!" Darrell quickly walked out of the office, leaving Kareem behind.
Jack approached the entrance of the park. He saw a teenage girl, dressed like she was ready for a Madonna lookalike contest, standing nearby.
"Have you seen my friend? Pale skin, kinda gaunt, really big nose?"
"Oh yeah!" The teenage girl said in between gum chews. "He left the park with his son or some junk."
"His…son?"
"Yeah, he looked really rad. Dark hair, gnarly skateboard, and a shirt with some cute bunny on it. I totally should have asked for his number…anyway, I heard the guy mutter some stuff in some other language, and they, like, got in this fancy blue car. It was about fifteen minutes or so ago."
Jack looked upset. "Thanks." He walked back to the Bronco; Simon could see the disappointment on Jack's face. "The Misha guy took him."
"Oh, no…oh, this is bad. We've got to find them. He could be smuggled back to the Soviet Union…or worse…"
"How?" Jack asked. "We have no idea where they are, or where they took him." As soon as he said that, they heard a loud thunderclap. The skies opened up, rain soaking the streets. Jack looked out at the road ahead. "Great. Miserable day, miserable situation."
Simon's expression slowly changed…as if something in the distance was captivating him. "Jack! JACK! Look at the road!" He pointed at the large lump in the middle of the road, which was slowly getting bigger.
"Is that…my Puffoam?" Jack suddenly remembered something. "My backpack! I left it at the park! Vitali must have taken it!"
"And he's left us a trail!" Simon pumped his fists in celebration. "Quick! We haven't got much time!" Simon started driving again, being extremely careful. The Puffoam lumps and wet roads made navigating tricky. Suddenly, the car phone started ringing. "Jack, can you pick that up?"
Jack did, putting the car phone up to his ear. "Hey, what's up?"
"It's Alex. I called Kareem and passed on the descriptions of those spies. We've identified them, and we have APBs out for both of them!"
Jack smiled at that news. "Great! Who are they?"
"'Misha' is actually Andrei Morozov. He works at the Soviet Embassy in Washington, D.C., and he's here on business…or so he said. We've long suspected him of being a spy…looks like we have all the proof we need now."
"And what about 'Sam'?"
Alex took a deep breath. "'Sam' is Darrell Price. One of our own. I just talked to him yesterday…I was wondering why he didn't want me too close to that computer. And you say they're leaving the country?"
"Not unless we stop them! Just get to the park, and from there, follow the beige lumps!"
There was a brief pause. "The beige lumps?"
"It'll make sense when you get there! See ya!"
From there it was an easy ride; Simon driving, Jack helping to navigate. At last, they made their way to a tall, abandoned brick building. The windows were covered with plywood, and graffiti dotted the walls. To the right of the front door was a large lump of Puffoam. "That has to be it," Simon noted as he parked the car. "Jack, get my bag from the back seat." Jack did so, then the two got out of the Bronco. "Now, don't make a sound."
The two looked around as they examined their surroundings. The walls were painted a dark green, and the bottom half of the walls were covered by wood panels. Spider webs were in doorways, and Jack saw a rat scurry past at one point. They came to one door…the only one in the hallway that was closed. Simon put his bag down, digging through it. He took out a small, S-shaped metal tool…a miniature periscope. He lay down on the ground, sticking part of the tool under the door, then looking into the other end. The room was lit by a single bare bulb. He could see Vitali was in the dingy room, tied to the chair, with Andrei watching over him. The yellow skateboard was by the chair, the bag of Chinese food sat in the corner. Simon could hear a conversation behind the door.
"You just had to put your nose into things, didn't you, young one?" Andrei spoke very calmly, almost soothingly.
"You framed my father for crimes he did not commit! You and your friend are terrible, terrible people!"
Andrei shrugged. "Whatever it takes to bring the Soviets ahead. It is about time America fell to its arrogant knees."
Simon retracted the periscope, then walked over to Jack, keeping his voice low. "There they are. We need to find a way to—" Suddenly, they heard footsteps, and someone cursing in Russian.
"We have company! Quick!" Simon motioned to the open room opposite the locked one. Simon and Jack retreated into it, turning off the light. From there they saw Darrell Price, leading Oleg into the room by gunpoint. Darrell opened the door, then closed it behind him. They heard another noise, a mechanical click from the doorknob.
"Locked," Simon noted. "And there wasn't a window in that room...we'll need to find another way to get in. Shame we had to leave Henri home, his lasers would have come in handy right about now."
As Simon and Jack walked back to the locked door, Jack's expression quickly changed to one of delight. "Simon, wait here!" Jack whispered, trying to contain himself. "I got an idea!"
"Jack, where are you going?"
"Back to the car…I left something there…"
Meanwhile, inside the room, Darrell was snickering. "Look at this! What a sweet family reunion!"
"You will not get away with this!" Oleg growled. "They will know what you have done!"
"That's where you're wrong, Oleg." A wicked smile crossed Darrell's face as he talked. "I concocted the perfect cover story. You see, you escaped during the prisoner transfer. You just couldn't stand the thought of being locked away for the rest of your life. So you kidnapped your son and held him hostage, with this pistol right here. I came here to try and save him, but I was too late...you were both gone by the time I got here."
"And you really think anyone's gonna buy that lame story?" Vitali snapped.
"It's not going to matter. Even if they do find the truth, by that time Misha and I will be sipping vodka in the shadow of Red Square." Darrell pointed his gun at Oleg. "Do svidaniya, comrade."
An explosion rocked the room, surprising Darrell to the point where he dropped his gun. He turned to see the door had been blown off. The two Flameless Fire boxes flew in, hitting the wall. Everyone turned to the door to see Alex Jagger walking in, gun in hand.
"All right, you guys, the gig's up!" He aimed his gun at Darrell as Jack and Simon walked in behind him. "Put your hands where I can see 'em!"
Simon tried to undo the knots on Vitali's hands. "If only Tillie were here to untie these..."
"Here, I got it!" Jack came over and started to undo the knots.
"Alex…buddy…" Darrell walked toward Alex, his hands up. "Listen, I'm sorry about all this. But if you just let me go I—"
"Don't move!" Alex kept his gaze fixed on Darrell. "I don't want to use this!"
"It's four against two, Darrell." Simon noted as Jack finished undoing the last knot. "It would be wise to go quietly."
"More like three-and-a-half against two." Andrei suddenly took out a pistol. "And now there will be one less. As you Americans say, catch you on the flip side." Andrei fired the gun six times at Alex. Nothing seemed to happen; Alex's expression was unwavering, as if the bullets were going right through his head.
"Don't move!" Alex shouted again. "I don't want to use this!"
Andrei looked confused. "What the…"
Alex started to blur and fizzle…his skin and clothes looked like they were covered in TV static. Darrell walked over and threw a punch at Alex…and it went right through. "It's a hologram!" Darrell shouted. "We've been duped!"
The four ran out, Vitali grabbing his skateboard. Darrell ran after them, feeling around his coat for his extra gun. He rounded a corner, seeing a red top floating in mid-air right in front of him.
"That's a bomb!" Vitali called out as the other three ran. "You go anywhere near it, it explodes! And a do svidaniya to you!" Vitali darted off.
Darrell stepped back from the Sky Top, waiting for it to round the corner. He pulled the extra gun out of his coat pocket, stepping backward even more as he did so. Once Darrell had the Sky Top in his sights, he fired a bullet into it. The lights instantly went off, and the top crashed to the ground. He waited for it to explode…once he realized it wasn't going to, he pounded the wall in frustration.
"NUTS!" Darrell ran past the top, heading for the front door. He saw the figure of Alex Jagger blocking the way, his arms crossed.
"Hah!" Darrell scoffed. "Nice try, Simon! I'm not falling for a hologram twice!"
Alex delivered a punch, knocking Darrell to the ground.
"Sorry Darrell. I'm real…just like the trouble you're in."
Meanwhile, Andrei had run out the back door, gripping the bag of Chinese food. He ran down the alley to his Cadillac. Just as he was unlocking his car, he felt someone yank the bag away. He looked over to see Vitali skating away on his skateboard, holding the bag.
Andrei got into his Cadillac, starting it quickly and chasing after him. He saw Vitali up ahead, skateboarding up to Simon's Bronco. The right side door opened, and Vitali quickly leapt in, taking a seat in the passenger side. He saw Simon driving, then looked back to see Oleg and Jack in the backseat.
"Andrei did seem rather attached to that bag, didn't he?" Simon asked as he hit the gas.
"Let's find out why." Vitali opened the bag up, seeing three Styrofoam takeout boxes and a clear plastic container of Hot & Sour Soup. He opened two of the boxes; the first contained noodles and beef, the second had shrimp and rice. But when he looked at the third box, he saw ten floppy disks inside. He held them up so Oleg and Jack could see.
"Hey, that's the strangest moo goo gai pan I've ever seen!" Jack joked as he looked the disk over.
Simon stopped at a red light, and Andrei's Cadillac pulled up to their left. Andrei aimed his gun out of the open window. "Give me that bag. Right now."
Vitali rolled down the window. "You want it? You can have it!" He tossed the bag of Chinese food into Andrei's car just as the light turned green. Simon floored it, the Bronco taking off. Andrei hit the gas too, keeping one hand on the wheel as he sifted through the bag. He glanced inside, noticing that one box was gone, and something appeared to be floating in his soup. He took the container out to examine it.
It was a beige, vaguely humanoid figurine.
The Puffoam in the soup expanded at a rapid rate, blowing the doors off the Cadillac. The car swerved off the road, plowing into the side of a building. Simon made a U-turn and drove back. Jack got out, walking over to Andrei's Cadillac and surveying the aftermath. The Puffoam was wedged between Andrei and the dashboard, pinning him against his seat. He struggled to get out, to no avail.
"Boy, that Chinese food can be really filling, can't it?"
Black SUVs surrounded the wrecked sedan. It took hours to get Andrei out of the car, requiring the Jaws of Life. Kareem was leading Darrell to a police car, handcuffs on the traitorous agent's wrists. "I'm very disappointed in you, Darrell. I thought we were friends."
Darrell looked back at him, a hurt expression. "You really felt that way?"
"Yes, Darrell." Kareem solemnly responded. "I did."
Darrell's frown quickly turned into a mischievous grin. "Then I really did my job well, didn't I?"
Kareem shook his head as he opened the door to the back of the police car, where Andrei was already sitting. Simon and Jack watched the arrest from a distance. Jack sat on the curb, Simon stood next to him.
"Thank you, Jack." Simon smiled at Jack gratefully. "We couldn't have done this without you."
"I can't believe my inventions came in so handy…you know, my science teacher actually called my powder the 'Flameless Failure'!"
"Sometimes, what we think are failures are just successes in disguise. Slinkies were invented by accident. So was Silly Putty, Vulcanized rubber. Keep inventing, Jack. And never give up."
"Thanks, Simon. You're the man!" The two high-fived, then looked over at Oleg and Vitali. A blue Oldsmobile sedan pulled up in front of them. Sharon got out of the car, running over and hugging her husband and son, crying out of pure happiness.
Simon sighed. "You know, Jack, I once helped out another family, in a very similar situation. An American father who just wanted to be with his daughter, but the Soviets…well, let's just say they were hard to sway."
"Oh, I bet! Simon…do you think that Russia and America will ever put aside their differences…maybe even become friends?"
Simon looked over at the Matveyevs. "It's possible. Their people can."
THE END
