I raised my hands the same way O'Cyrus had, hoping he knew how to get us out of this mess—and do it quickly. Due to my innate sense of time, I was well aware there were only two minutes and thirty seconds left until the dynamite blew.
If O'Cyrus was worried, though, he didn't show it. He simply squinted into the darkness at the Odd Squad agent who had spoken and asked, "O'Rafferty, is that you?"
"That's affirmative," Agent O'Rafferty replied.
"Who's that?" I whispered to Orica
"Grandad's old partner though he used the deage-inator instead of retiring" Orica whispered back.
O'Cyrus said, "Think we could lower the gadgets and continue this discussion a bit farther away from here? This lighthouse's rigged to blow in a couple of minutes."
"Yeah, right," O'Rafferty said. "I'm not falling for that old routine. You think I'm an idiot?"
"I don't think that at all," O'Cyrus said. "I know you're an idiot."
O'Rafferty sputtered angrily, then exclaimed, "I'm not the one who defected from the Odd Squad and then illegally infiltrated a top-secret defense base!"
"I did no such thing," O'Cyrus shot back. "Don't you think it's suspicious that you showed up here exactly when I did? Let me guess what happened. About fifteen minutes ago, you received a classified Double-A red alert detailing my arrival here along with a warning that I'd left the Agency to pursue some evil scheme or another. Furthermore, this alert told you exactly where and when to find me."
"Er . . . yes," O'Rafferty admitted.
"Does that sound like something that I'd do?" O'Cyrus demanded. "After everything I've done for the Odd Squad? I would never betray the Agency! I'm on a classified mission, hunting down the subversive group that has rigged this lighthouse to blow. That same group sent you the red alert, not the Odd Squad! And by keeping your gadgets on us right now, you're playing into their hands. They've set us all up."
For a moment, O'Rafferty almost looked convinced. But then he shook his head. "The alert I got couldn't possibly have been a fake. It had an official code that checked out."
"These guys have infiltrated the Odd Squad!" O'Cyrus exclaimed. "One of their moles sent that to you!"
O'Rafferty shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Listen to yourself, O'Cyrus. You're saying I'm a fool to think you'd go join the enemy—but instead, I should believe some top-secret evil organization has infiltrated the entire Odd Squad?"
O'Cyrus sighed, then muttered to us under his breath, "Like I said, he's an idiot. How much time till detonation, OJ?"
"Fifteen seconds."
"Get ready to run for that convenient boat over there." O'Cyrus returned his attention to O'Rafferty and the Odd Squad. "Agents, most of you know who I am and what I stand for. I swear, I'm telling you the truth. So before you back O'Rafferty over me, there's one thing you ought to know . . . ."
At which point, the lighthouse exploded.
O'Cyrus, Orica, and I were prepared for it. Or at least, we were as prepared as you can possibly be for an entire building to detonate beneath your feet.
The other agents were completely caught by surprise. Apparently, none of them had believed O'Cyrus's warning.
A column of flame erupted behind us, shredding the lighthouse and sending huge sheets of rusted metal cartwheeling through the air. The ground trembled as though an earthquake had hit. Cracks spread through the earth at our feet and fractured the soil into pieces.
Many of the Odd Squad agents were thrown to the ground by the blasts. Others were temporarily blinded by them. Most of the rest scattered, gibbering in fear.
I ran for the boat as I'd been ordered. Orica and O'Cyrus were right there with me. We barreled past the startled agents blocking our way. Two regained their wits long enough to try to stop us, but O'Cyrus and Orica made quick work of them. There was a sudden flurry of arms and legs, and the next thing either agent knew, they were on the ground, wheezing in pain.
A little farther away, a third agent was wheeling toward us with his gadget.
I defended myself with the only weapon I had: my grapple-inator. I fired the air gun, launching the metal grapple at the agent. I'd been aiming for his head, hoping to knock him unconscious, but as usual, my aim was off and I nailed him in the groin instead. It worked, though. The agent dropped his gadget and doubled over, whimpering.
"That's not exactly the recommended way to use this," Orica chided, snatching the grapple off the ground as we ran past.
"You know a better way to take out children with a grappling hook?"
"Watch and learn."
The ground was collapsing behind us, forming a crater where the lighthouse had once been. A huge chunk of the building sheared off and tumbled inside. We sprinted as fast as we could, trying to stay ahead of the expanding hole. Lit by fire and flame from within, they looked like volcanos sprouting on the beach.
By now O'Rafferty and a few of the other agents had realized we were on the run. They came after us, steering clear of the craters as well. O'Rafferty shouted something that might have been "Curse you, O'Cyrus!" though I couldn't hear it clearly over all the noise.
Orica reloaded my grapple-inator, then fired it at a nearby tree. The grapple whipped around a low branch and held tight. Orica then jammed it into the crook of another tree, yanking the wire tight across the path five feet above the ground. She did this so fluidly, she didn't miss a step. Even with all the explosions and fires around, the thin wire was almost invisible in the night. You'd only notice it if you knew to look for it.
O'Rafferty and the other agents didn't know to look for it. They were too focused on us—or on the exploding beams of forcefield energy or the flaming craters or the random smoking objects that were now beginning to plummet from the sky. Behind us, I heard O'Rafferty yell, "If you don't stop, I will order my agents to . . . Waughhhh!" There was a metallic twang as he and all his agents caught the wire in the chest simultaneously and were knocked flat on their backs.
Orica flashed me a cocky smile. "See? You only took down one person with it."
We kept on running, leaving the imploding building behind as quickly as possible. Oshton woke as we climbed into the boat, still woozy from the sleep-itosis, and blinked in confusion at the fire and chaos down the beach. "Ooh!" he said groggily. "Fireworks! Is it Victoria Day already?"
"And he wonders why I never invited him on a mission before," O'Cyrus grumbled.
Orica grabbed Oshton by the arm and helped him to his feet. "C'mon, Dad. We have to go."
"On a boat ride?" Oshton asked. "Sounds delightful!"
Oshton tumbled in face-first, his legs sticking up in the air.
O'Rafferty and his agents had gotten back to their feet and were charging our way again. Down the beach, I saw them readying their gadgets. O'Cyrus revved the motor and we roared away, kicking up a huge rooster tail of water just as the Odd Squad opened fire.
I breathed a huge sigh of relief and sagged into my seat.
"Stay alert!" O'Cyrus warned. "We're not out of this yet!" He pointed behind us.
The Odd Squad had called for backup. Three boats were coming right at us. Gadgetfire erupted from them. Blasts of energy stitched the surface of the water behind us.
Orica grabbed for her gadget to return fire, but O'Cyrus shook his head. "No shooting back. They're fellow agents, not the enemy."
"We're agents too," Orica protested. "And they're shooting at us."
"They've been hoodwinked by THE ORGANIZATION," Cyrus said. "And THE ORGANIZATION would probably like nothing better than for us to do their dirty work for them and blow one another away. But we're not playing that game."
"What game are we playing, then?" Oshton asked. "How about Parcheesi? I love Parcheesi!"
"If we can't fight back, what's our plan?" I asked.
"Out of all the conveniently placed boats I didn't get this boat because it looked pretty," O'Cyrus explained. "I got it for the speed. We ought to be able to outrun them."
"And them, too?" Orica asked, pointing to our port side.
More boats were coming. It was hard to tell in the dark, but it looked like the police had mobilized their marine division as well.
"Dang it!" O'Cyrus growled. "THE ORGANIZATION wasn't taking any chances with this. We played right into their devious little hands." He yanked hard on the wheel, veering away from the police boats as well.
"How's that?" I asked.
The motors were roaring so loud, O'Cyrus had to shout his response. "There's no way the TPS would have boats out this fast if the Odd Squad had just called them. The lighthouse went up only a few minutes ago. That means THE ORGANIZATION probably tipped them off well ahead of time too, the same as they did with the Odd Squad."
"You think they have moles inside the police too?" Orica asked.
"No," O'Cyrus replied. "I don't think they're that big. They probably just phoned in a tip and got the police on their toes, so when the lighthouse blew up, they were ready to roll."
"But with the Odd Squad, they definitely used an inside man?" I asked.
"O'Rafferty wouldn't have been able to mobilize an Agency team that big unless he thought word was really coming from on high." O'Cyrus shook his head, looking annoyed at himself. "THE ORGANIZATION played us just like they played you. They fed us a single crumb—Cherry Beach—knowing that we'd bite. Then they rigged the lighthouse and set us up so that we'd take the fall for it. They probably hoped we'd all get killed in the blast, but this still works out for them just fine. We're the only ones who know THE ORGANIZATION'S exists—and now they've got the Odd Squad chasing us, freeing them to pursue their evil plans. It's deviously brilliant, really." I glanced back towards land, wondering what could be going on. I was sure that I'd encountered some clue or another as to THE ORGANIZATION's ultimate plans during my time at Hidden Forest. Unfortunately, I hadn't made sense of it yet.
"All right," Cyrus said determinedly. "Time to shake these guys."
We had reached the narrow gap between Kensington Market and Center Island and the going suddenly became much more treacherous. There was a lot more traffic: fleets of fishermen and pleasure boats returning home after a day out on the water, as well as massive container ships and a large yacht on their way out to sea. We were a minnow beside these whales and were probably supposed to give them right of way, but we didn't have time for that. Instead, O'Cyrus slalomed through them, trying to lose our pursuers, resulting in some terrifyingly close calls. We barely avoided being flattened by one outbound freighter and nearly got pureed by the rear propellers of another.
"Woo-hoo!" Oshton yelled.
Behind us, the Odd Squad and the TPS got lost in the shuffle. Only one boat—the lead for the Odd Squad—managed to follow us through, only to get clipped by the yacht. It was as though a kid had capsized his bathtub toy. The Odd Squad boat was flipped on its side, catapulting the agents into the water.
Cyrus chuckled to himself. "That ought to keep the Agency off our tail."
"But what about the coast guard?" Orica asked, pointing ahead of us.
I looked in that direction and groaned. I think O'Cyrus might have even done the same.
Sure enough, the Canadian Coast Guard had been alerted about us as well, and they were coming in full force.
Hang on," O'Cyrus warned. "This might get dangerous."
"Now it's getting dangerous?" I gasped. "What was that before?"
"Mildly treacherous." O'Cyrus suddenly veered wildly to starboard. This kicked up a wall of water, which temporarily shielded us from view while O'Cyrus quickly switched direction again. We blasted through our own wave and bore down on our attackers, aiming for a narrow gap between two boats.
They shouted warnings at us through their bullhorns, and when we didn't stop, they opened fire.
We dropped onto the floor of the cockpit and curled up tight.
Bullets raked both sides of us as we zoomed between the boats. I could hear things cracking and splintering above my head. It was somewhat strange being shot by something that wasn't a gadget.
And then the shooting stopped. We were through the gap and the other boats were struggling to pull U-turns and come after us. I sat up to find the neon blue paneling of our cigarette boat shredded, the windshield riddled with holes, and one engine trailing smoke.
"Hey," Oshton said, his haze finally dissipating. "Those people were trying to kill us! This isn't fun at all!"
"Nice of you to join us." Cyrus turned towards land but now saw there were reinforcements coming from that direction. A lot of reinforcements. Twelve boats in all.
Oshton's eyes grew as big as golf balls with fear. "They've cut off our escape route!"
Without an escape route, we can't escape!" Oshton babbled. "What do we do now?"
"Keep your pants on. I have a plan." O'Cyrus kept his eyes locked on ahead.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Leave the getaway to me," O'Cyrus said. "You focus on figuring out what THE ORGANIZATION's up to. Without that, everything we're doing here is for naught."
I racked my brain, struggling to make sense of everything I'd seen and heard over the past few weeks. It would have been difficult under normal circumstances, but I found it almost impossible to concentrate with the bullets flying and the boat jouncing over the water and Oshton whimpering and the constant threat of death everywhere around us. The fact that Orica was staring at me expectantly also didn't help.
After a mere fifteen seconds had gone by, she asked, "Well? Any ideas?"
"No," I admitted. "None."
"Then think harder."
"What is that even supposed to mean?" I snapped. "How could I possibly think harder? That's like telling someone to see harder or taste harder. The problem isn't that I'm not thinking hard enough! It's that your stupid plan to send me undercover wasn't any good!"
Orica's cold stare grew even colder. "Our plan was perfectly fine."
O'Cyrus sliced directly behind another container ship, which had left a cavernous wake in its path. We launched into the air, sailed across it, and came down hard on the far side. One of the boats pursuing us wasn't as lucky. It plunged into the trough and flipped stern-over-bow, landing upside down.
"THE ORGANIZATION never believed I was really working with them!" I argued. "They knew I was a mole the whole time. Any information they fed me was false!"
Orica shook her head. "They might have suspected you were a mole, but they weren't sure. They wouldn't have brought you in merely to set us up. That'd be far too risky. They wanted you for something."
"No, they didn't. I was just a patsy."
One of our motors coughed and died, cutting our power in half. The pursuing boats quickly started gaining on us.
"You weren't a patsy!" Orica told me. "THE ORGANIZATION wouldn't have put you on the potential recruits list in the briefcase if you were a patsy. Because you're not as incompetent as you believe you are! So think! What did they want you for?"
"I don't know!"
"Did they train you for anything special?"
"No!"
"Did they ask you to do anything unusual?"
"No! I haven't done anything for the past few weeks except workouts and math problems!"
The moment the words were out of my mouth, I had a sudden flash of understanding. Everything that had happened at Hidden Forest fell into place. Everything I hadn't grasped instantly came into focus.
Orica seemed to sense this. "What is it?"
"I know what THE ORGANIZATION's up to . . . ," I said.
But that was as far as I got. As we passed Burlington, another police boat ambushed us. This one was built like ours, and it came up fast, looking to broadside us. O'Cyrus wrenched us to the right to avoid it, but with the other boats closing the gap, there was nowhere for us to go.
"Abandon ship!" O'Cyrus yelled.
"What?" Oshton cried.
O'Cyrus slammed into him a second later, lifting him up and over the side of the boat. Orica lunged for me in the same way, although I was already moving when she hit me.
The engines blew as we jumped. The shock wave sent us cartwheeling through the air. I saw the city skyline flip over twice and then the surface of the water smacked me in the face. It was like being punched in the head. I was dazed, only vaguely aware of the cold embrace of the water and the fact that I was sinking. I tried to swim, but something heavy snagged around my foot, dragging me down toward the bottom.
Above me, at the surface, I saw the bright flare of the explosion, the churn of the bubbles as boats raced overhead, and a vision of a woman's face . . . all fading quickly as I was pulled farther and farther away.
And then the darkness swallowed me.