Because the last chapter was short…and really kind of bad…

Cammie's POV:

We hiked through the graveyard, listening to Sam explain what was going to happen next, "We're in Cmentarz Powązkowski, or the Powązkowski Cemetery, established in 1790, designed by Dominik Merlini, the royal architect to King Stanisław August Poniatowski. A lot of the important people in the King's life are buried in the catacombs…which are where we're going to now. I'll take you to the next meeting place and leave you off there."

We had reached an area of the cemetery that was sort of isolated and we stopped directly in front of a mausoleum with a large stain glass window depicting a sunset over what looked like a desert…the strange part was that there was a pine tree in the picture. The door read:

Ricki Lake

April 31, 1809 - February 29, 2010

A True Life Form in A World of Fakes

What's Wrong With This Picture?

A List By Cameron Morgan, Alex Rider, and Zach Goode

1. Nobody lives to be 201 years old.

2. There's never been an April 31st.

3. This year wasn't a leap year…so there was no February 29th.

4. Pine tree in a stain glass desert? Enough said.

5. True life form?

6. Ricki? And what gender would that be?

*The final question was one posed only by Operative Morgan. The other operatives would not take credit for it.

Sam was smiling at our somewhat lost looking expressions, (Yes, even Zach!), "Do you like it?"

"What is it?"

"It's our entrance to the catacombs…see the name, Ricki Lake?" Sam points, we nod, "It's Cockney slang for fake… Eric's idea."

"And the dates?" Alex asked.

"We use them as a commemorative and a combination. April has five letters, it stands for the fifth month, May… Thirty-one is three plus one equals four…so on May 4th, 1809 this entrance was first used. We change the current year every year and so the combination changes too, also marking how long the entrance has been in use."

Alex looked a little worried, "But isn't the year a pretty easy combination?"

Sam smiled as he stepped toward the door, "Yeah, but I never said it was the combination," Glancing around to make sure no one but us was around, Sam moved so that he was obscuring whatever he was doing. A second later there was a loud click and the stain glass window slowly creaked backward, revealing a steep set of stairs inside of a tunnel that was about two and a half feet wide and six and a half feet tall.

"Another quick question," I said, causally craning my neck to see if the numbers had changed at all, "Hasn't anyone ever noticed that 'Ricki Lake' is 201 years old?"

Sam shook his head, "Nope, most people don't come back here anyway…it's where the really old graves broken down graves are…and any tourists or the locals are either visiting relatives or the Avenue of Merit, that's where are the famous people are ," Alex and Zach were to trying to be covert and figure out how the lock worked too I noticed.

Meanwhile, Sam reached toward a crevice in the left wall, pulling out four candles and a red BIC lighter. He held up one of the candles and flicked the lighter but the wind was too strong. I glanced up at the sky just as the first snowflakes started to fall, the wind starting to howl.

Sam muttered at the candle then said to us, "This isn't going to work; we're going to have to get to the first room without them."

"In the dark?" I clarified.

Sam smiled (He was much more at ease without the rest of his gang around him), "Yeah, in the dark. But it's okay; I know the catacombs and like the back of my hand."

I nodded and faked looking convinced that I was okay with going down some steps in the pitch black nothingness (where there probably no cell service….and maybe no MI6/CIA service) with three guys I didn't know all that well in the middle of a snow storm in a foreign country…because a Gallagher Girl's gotta do what a Gallagher Girl's gotta do.

Sam lead the way, "Watch your step everybody, we'll all take a tumble if one of us trips," He went down four steps, motioning the rest of us to follow, "And Zach, push that red stone on the left, it'll close the window back up."

I looked past Alex toward Zach as we all watched the window slowly, ever so slowly, creak shut until the only light was from the crack at the very bottom…turns out it was more of a door then a window.

"Everyone ready?" Sam's voice floated back to me from just ahead of me in the darkness.

"Another question," I stated, "Why can't we light the candles now?"

"Afraid of the dark, Gallagher Girl?"

I glared over my shoulder in the direction of the voice while Sam answered, "It's not really safe to pass candles back when your shoulders can barely squeeze through. Plus it's hard to keep a candle lit in this drafty old tunnel on a good day, much less one like today." As if to illustrate his point, I felt a strong wind whistle past me.

"Gotcha." And with that we slowly started our way downward and into the unknown…for me, Alex, and Zach at least.

Counting, Catacomb Style:

By Cameron Morgan

Number of times really cold water dripped on my head and down my back: 8

Number of times Alex managed to step on the heel of my shoe even though my backpack is like a foot deep and therefore should put some distance between us: 5

Number of times I wondered what Macey would have say about that afore mentioned heel-stepping-on-ness: 5

Number of times I heard Zach and/or Alex curse the width of the tunnel: 15

Number of times I cursed the steps and/or tunnel: 19

Number of times I almost killed Sam and I by almost falling: 2

Number of times I felt something crawl across my hands as I moved them down the wall: 3

Number of times I didn't scream at the crawly things (Even though I really wanted to): 3

Number of times we almost lost Sam: 1

Number of minutes this trip lasted: 19

"Here we are," Sam's voice echoed through the darkness followed closely by the click of the lighter. He quickly lit the candles and handed them out. As he did so, I posed another question and took in the room we were standing in.

"Why couldn't we have used flashlights? The wind won't put them out."

"You need batteries for flashlights and batteries die. Also if you drop a flashlight and it goes out, you lose it and if someone finds a flashlight in a catacomb that no one has been in for three hundred years, it might cause some unwelcome investigating. We only use the lighter because if it gets damp, it'll still work, unlike matches."

I uttered a distracted answer of understanding as I fully took in the semi-circular room. The stone ceiling above my head looked like sandstone, a light tan sandy color. I guessed it went up as high as twelve feet high and the door we had come from was one of eight just like it. Between each of the doors was a large stone plaque with alternating drawings and writing so old it had worn almost completely away.

Everyone but Sam gazed around the room in awe but Zach brought us back to reality, "We need to go," he said quietly.

Sam nodded and led us quickly toward one of the doors. We made our way as fast as our candles would allow. About five minutes later we arrived in another chamber, this one long and rectangular with the same stone and more plaques, these ones I was sure were grave markers…a wee bit creepy, yes?

But we didn't stop there. We when through the door at the opposite end of the chamber, then down two more flights of stairs. There the tunnel shrunk so that we had to crawl, our back packs pressing down on us. After fifteen minutes of cursing, grunting, and sweating, we arrived in a room where we could stand up. In the room there was a stone casket and a door blocked with long metal bars. There weren't any other exits.

While we stretched and dusted off our clothes Sam spoke for the last time, "Well, this is where I send you off. This casket will lead you to the sewer; at the end of the tunnel behind the third brick down in the second row on the right side you will find a flashlight and batteries. Take them and walk exactly 100 paces eastward from the doorway you exited from. Hopeful your contact will be there…if he's not you'll have to walk to the next doorway downward and follow it to the end…you'll come out in Prague...it's not one of the best areas; you'll need to be careful. From there, you'll call this number," He paused and handed Zach a piece of paper which Zach placed in his pocket, "And that's where you get more instructions."

We all nodded solemnly , and as Alex and Zach pushed the heavy lid back, I said, "Thanks a lot Sam," and stepped forward and gave him a light peck on his dusty cheek…and he blushed.

"Ahh-" Zach cursed as the second candle went out, leaving only Alex's.

We had been walking for five minutes with the single candle when we got the first whiff of the sewer and I tried not to gag. Thankfully I spotted the outline of the doorway, "Hurry, let's find the flashlight, the smell is killing me."

Ten minutes later, we were counting steps as fast as we could, "Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!" Alex finished.

We screeched to a halt, glancing around for our contact, "No one is here," I pointed out.

"Patience, Gallagher Girl," Zach said, shining the flashlight around the doorway where our contact should have been waiting.

"I don't have much patience when it comes to sewers," I muttered to no one in particular.

"Hey, look at this," both Zach and I turned toward Alex. He was pointing toward an envelope taped to the wall.

"What's it say?"

" 'To Whom It May Concern'…I'm guessing that's us," Alex shrugged as he pulled the envelope down, "Who else would be walking around a sewer?"

Zach held the flashlight and I watched anxiously as Alex tore open the envelope. The noted looked something like this:

To Whom It may Concern:

If the weather caused delay go through the tunnel to the left of where this note was left. Then go to Warsaw Wschodnia and the look for the man with the pink fedora. Tell him you like his magenta fedora. Be there by 3:45 p.m.

If you cannot make it by this time call this number:

+48 22 345 45 90

It was signed with what looked like a silver bullet…like that tells you much about who wrote the note.

"So apparently someone couldn't stand the smell either," I tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a tired cough.

No one said anything about my attempted humor, "Come on, let's get out of here," Zach said, already turning toward the tunnel.

The tunnel as it turned out, was actually one connected to all of the city's street drains. I wasn't really sure where it was going to, but after twenty seemingly endless minutes of dodging the questionable looking puddles (Thank goodness it was cold and everything was frozen so nothing was dripping through the drains) we arrived at the end of the tunnel, literally. In front of us there was a long rusty ladder leading up to what looked like the bottom of a man-hole cover.

"Ladies first," I said as I strode toward the ladder. I was already half way up it before my companions could say anything.

When I reached the top I gently pushed up and took a peak outside. The man hole was located in a dark alley that seemed to be empty. I signaled to Alex and Zach to follow me as I pushed the cover up and soundlessly placed it on the ground. I pulled myself up and out, taking in the surroundings more clearly.

We were somewhere behind a large tenant sort of building in dingy red brick. There was trash scattered around it smelled pretty nasty….although not as bad as the sewer by a long shot. I turned back just as Alex was pushing the man-hole cover back, Zach was looking at his watch, "It's almost three now…we need to get directions to the train station."

I was already heading for the street, "What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

There was some sort of snooty comment made and laughter, but I chose to be the mature one and ignore it. Some boys just never grow up…

How To Get Lost in Warsaw in Three Easy Steps

By Cameron Morgan

1. Ask a man wearing a jacket that has seen better days for directions…aka a hobo.

2. Follow said directions.

3. Take thirty-five minutes to realize that you are in fact lost.

* Optional Step 4: Spend the next 30 seconds cursing out the hobo before finding someone else to give you directions. *

The middle aged mother was a much better direction giver then the hobo. It actually turns out that we were only about ten minutes away from our destination…to bad that we only had two minutes to find the Pink/Magenta Fedora.

"I don't see any pink…let alone a pink fedora," Alex muttered sarcastically as we rushed through the station.

"Well, we're almost screwed anyway," Zach said, anxiously craning his neck around.

I was pushing past a pack of skinny kids in ugly black uniforms when I spotted a flash of pink. I did a one-eighty, "There he is!"

I took off toward the guy, Zach and Alex hot on my heels, "Excuse me, sir?" I called.

The man turned toward me. He was about 50, wiry, had glasses with thick black frames, and (from what I could see) was completely bald, "Yes?" he said in English, smiling lightly.

"I like your magenta fedora," I said, making direct eye contact.

Suddenly his face became serious, "Here," He pulled three tickets out of his pocket, "Take these, get on the 3:45 to Moscow. From there you will get on the connecting train to Vladivostok. Use these passports," He pulled the passports from his other pocket. You'll be met there." He shoved all the stuff into my hands and pushed me toward the train closest to us, "Go now, the train is getting ready to leave!"

"Thanks!" I called over my shoulder as our trio raced toward the whistling train.

"Wait!" Zach yelled, "Czekać!"

The conductor in the last car looked back at us, yelling something I didn't get, probably telling us we had missed the train, but we weren't giving up that easily. Alex was in front of me, he jumped on to the train first, landing in a graceful crouch. Zach was right behind him, hitting the ground inches from Alex's hand. The conductor was still yelling but I wasn't watching him…because I had been closest to the fedora guy, I was the furthest from the train…and now the train was speeding up.

I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers, hoping Gilly Gallagher, my dad, and all the rest had their eyes on me, and flung myself from toward the train. It seemed like I was suspended in the air for an eternity, but my feet hit the train's steps with a thud and I felt Zach and Alex grabbing for my arms to keep me steady.

The conductor was still yelling as I handed him our tickets, something about kids these days…but I was okay with that. It had just hit me that I was on my way to Russia, that the Circle hadn't been anywhere near me since Belgium and I might actually be safe.

But I knew better; I knew I wouldn't be fully protected until I had reached the safety of my school's walls, I knew deep down inside of me I might never be safe, least not until I found out why the Circle was after me…but most of all I knew that all I knew that the Circle was everywhere, ready to striker at a moment's notice. And I knew I had to be prepared.

And I was prepared, because hey, I'm a Gallagher Girl.

Sooooo, what do you think…did you see how fast I updated? TWO DAYS! And did anyone notice that in TWO weeks, it'll be a YEAR since I started this story? Wow, time flies! I don't know when I'll update again yet, but I might just save up several chapters and update a bunch on the 21st…so look forward to that! And it might be nice to have like…a nice round number of reviews…like 200…y'all who don't have accounts can review more than once and the rest of you could go back and review other chapters, if you want…

Please review like this amazing people did:

LivieLi

cocky-gurl

foesizzle13

Alexis Taylor

untitledwings11

Love all my readers but a special hug to all my reviewers!

And like I said, my pen pal helped me…but I researched the catacombs by myself and made 80 % of it up…so if you're in Poland, don't go looking for a Ricki Lake!

~Agent Striker