(Jenny's POV)
"Arghhhhhhhhhhhhh," I groan as I hear the sound of 'Love Is Doin' It to Me' when I walk into the music classroom for the last lesson. And there's a reason for it. Jason Beaver. A sixteen-year-old Ken doll lookalike who at this very moment is not only top of the music charts but has three other records 'bubbling under'. To everyone else, he's a suave, kind-hearted, smooth-talking singer, but to me, he's the most annoying piece of turd to walk the Earth since Justin Bieber who, by the way, I hate as well. The media has even dubbed Beaver as 'the British Justin Bieber'. God, if there was going to be a fight between those two freaks of nature, it would have to be a draw because I'm gonna be the one to shoot them both so I don't have to hear or see them ever again.
Davina springs up and goes into a dance routine. "Love is doin' it to me, yeah, love is doin' it to me, love is doin' it (doin' it)," she sings along with Beaver on the iPod.
"Aaaargh, I can't stand it! I can't bloody stand it," I moan.
Davina looks up. "What? What's the matter?"
I point to her iPod Touch. "That. Jason Beaver. Everywhere I've been today, everyone's been playing his stupid song – TV, radio, the Internet, iPod's… I can't get away from it. What is wrong with everyone?"
"But Jenny, Jason Beaver is, like, the hottest new pop star on the planet right now. He sings songs with an upbeat sound and has catchy lyrics. His music is very cool and hip. On top of that" – Davina reaches for her schoolbag to show me a poster of the brown-haired, blue-eyed singer – "He's gorgeous! His face, voice…" She sighs dreamily. "He's like Justin Bieber."
"Oh! So he's a pretentious, arrogant douchebag that I'd like to punch in the face without getting tired of it," I say, walking past the poster and plonking my bag on my desk.
"Wow, Jenny, you must really hate him," says Avril.
"With a burning passion. People like him are the reason why good music is dying," I tell her. "In my day, bands like Boyz II Men, Take That, Spice Girls, Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync were the best-looking people in the music business – with the best music in the world. And the only news you needed to hear from them were what award they won, their engagement and wedding, the birth of their children and their breakup. Now, you've got your Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus, Big Time Rush, One Direction, The Wanted and all those other annoying little pricks literally making a song and dance about what controversy BS they get up to."
"But Jason isn't like that!" Davina protests. "He's kind, he's gentle and he's generous. He never lets his success go to his head and he likes to keep his private life to himself – though, I do know a few things about him. His favourite colour is blue, he likes dancing and he likes spending most of his free time helping people and rescuing stray animals…"
"The makings of a proper, proper, proper arsehole," I declare – and everyone, except Davina, cracks up laughing. "Listen, Davina dear, you may think that Jason Beaver is some charming, confident, and elegant heartthrob who would get your heart pumping when you see or hear him, but soon you're gonna find that he's like any male celebrity – an arrogant and obnoxious douche. Now can you him off so we can start the lesson?"
"But, Jenny…!"
"Now, Davina."
She groans, but does what I say. Normally, I'm a placid, contented person, and I'll let people play music during the music lesson. But since it's Jason Beaver, there's no way I can have that playing in the background during the lesson without me wanting to throw the music player and the person who owns it out the window.
But when the lesson is finished and school is out, 'Love Is Doin' It to Me' starts playing again.
"God," I groan as the song echoes through the corridors, "I can't stand that song. And I sure as hell can't stand Jason 'the Butt-head' Beaver."
"So I take it you wouldn't want his album as a birthday present." I look up to see Carrie standing in the doorway – along with Rose and Oscar.
"If you get me that for my birthday, I will give you detention every night until you leave this place," I tell Carrie – to which she laughs. Just then, my watch communicator vibrates and the teams' pencil communicators go off.
"Time to kick some bad guy butt," says Carrie. "Maybe that'll take your mind off Jason."
"Anything's better than listening to that pretty-boy idol," I say as we head to the broom cupboard. "Seriously, if someone plays his stupid song one more time, I will kill them."
When we get to the broom cupboard, Oscar slides open the light switch and places his thumb on the panel. When the light goes green, Rose opens the door and enters the cupboard with the rest of us following. After the door closes, Carrie pulls the lever, and five seconds after the alarm rings, the floor gives way and the elevator takes us down to HQ.
Let the games begin.
(Frank's POV)
While I wait for the team to come down to HQ, I set up the gadgets needed for the mission, with Jason Beaver playing in the background. I know Jenny can't stick this guy, but he is part of the mission… That's if she's up for it.
SWOOSH!
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" I hear Jenny wail.
"Ah. Team, Jenny, you're here," I say, turning to face them.
"Frank, you have exactly five seconds to turn that bloody racket off or so help me God, I'm gonna smash that radio over your head!" she warns me.
"Better do what she says, Frank," says Oscar. "She said that she was gonna kill the next person who played a Jason Beaver song."
"Besides, you know how much I hate this guy. Why are you even playing his song?"
"Um… w-well… You see…" I falter as I turn the radio off.
Jenny narrows her eyes at me. "Frank, what's going on?"
"Please don't hate me, but…" I turn on the computer screen… to reveal a headshot photograph of Jason Beaver.
"Oh hell no!" Jenny exclaims, looking absolutely horrified. "You cannot be serious!"
"Now before you lose your rag, let me explain what the mission is about."
She has her arms tightly crossed over her chest and she lets out an exasperated sigh. "Fine."
"Thank you. Now as you all know, Jason Beaver is the pop world's latest idol. His meteoric rise to stardom is making fans swoon at his feet all over the UK and his single, 'Love Is Doin' It to Me', is top of the charts."
"So what seems to be the problem?" Rose asks.
"Over the last few weeks, there have been reports of missing people from all over the country. The people who have disappeared all attended a Jason Beaver concert."
"How is he doing it?" Oscar asks.
"That's where you come in. The four of you are going on tour with Jason, disguised, as his support band."
"Wow! Really?! We'll be playing in a band?" Carrie squeals. "This is so cool!"
"It's all very well that we're gonna be playing in a band, but there is one teeny tiny problem… some of us don't know how to play instruments!" says Jenny. "On top of that, some of us don't know how to sing… oh and cherry on top, what songs are we going to sing?"
"I've got a solution to those problems." I hold up a black choker necklace. "The Voice Enhancer – guaranteed to give you the perfect singing voice and" – I open a small case to reveal contact lenses – "the Absorb Anything Contact Lenses – it allows you to replicate any physical motion you witness without having to practice it."
"Awesome!" says Carrie.
I hold up another gadget – a hairdryer. "You also have the Tornado Hairdryer 3000 – it can blow out powerful gusts of wind. It can also work in reverse and vacuum in large amounts of wind. I also have this…" I hold up two large textbooks. "Your How to… Play Musical Instruments books. And finally…" I hand Jenny a black notebook. "A lyric and sheet music book."
She flicks through the pages – then stops on one of the pages. "What the…? 'On the Edge' – lyrics by… Frank London?!"
I go red and clear my throat. "Yes."
"Oh my God!" Jenny shows the others the book. "I didn't know you wrote songs."
"I was in a band at university. It was me, Andy Mills and Sean Reynolds. We were called Throne Island. I was the songwriter… and drummer of the group."
"Well, that's my theory proved – geeks really do have more fun."
I clear my throat again. "Yes, quite. Anyway, you'll be staying with Jason at the Sanderson Hotel in Soho tomorrow. A car will pick you up after school to take you there. So now you're ready… Good luck, team. Or in other words, break a leg!" I laugh – only to stop suddenly when I see no-one else laughing. "No? OK."
"Anyway," says Jenny, swiftly changing the subject, "we better go home and get practising. By the way, since we're going to be a band for the next few days, what are we going to call ourselves?"
"How about 'Throne Island'?" Oscar jokes – and the girls laugh.
Typical.
(Jenny's POV)
The next day after school, I tell Aunt Hermione that I'll be spending the weekend at a friend's house, when in reality, I'm gonna be spending the weekend with the most obnoxiously annoying person in Britain – Jason Beaver. It's a clear, cool afternoon when I step out of the school with my red weekend roller case, more like spring than autumn. I hurry across the playground to the black van that's parked outside the kerb. The front door opens and a black-suited man in sunglasses hops out. He takes my case and puts it in the trunk. Then he slides the back door open and I climb in, where Rose, Carrie and Oscar are already waiting for me. After I slide into my seat, the MI9 agent pulls the van from the kerb and heads for Soho.
"Time for a quick change, I think," I say to the three young spies.
Nodding in agreement, we use our watches to change into pop idols. I change into indigo skinny jeans and a pale blue vest, teamed with a faux-fur-lined blue boots, and a white skinny scarf. A lavender fedora completes the look.
I look to the others and they certainly look like pop idols. Rose has on a dark grey ripped tee with a super-contemporary pink skull and crossbones motif and proclaimed in big black letters: 'HARD ROCK', a pink camouflage miniskirt, black leggings and black hi-top Converse shoes, with big, bold accessories such as the silver dog tag necklaces, the pink sweatband with a black skull and crossbones motif and black cuffs with silver studs, and a stylish pink biker cap. Oscar is wearing a slightly transparent grey T-shirt with a dark denim blue shirt on top, black slim fit jeans and black hi-top sneakers. And Carrie is sporting a jersey lilac dress combined with a matching faux-fur bolero, along with a red chain-link necklace and long, cream boots with a gold stun trim.
"So are you guys excited about meeting Jason Beaver?" Carrie asks excitedly.
"I can hardly contain myself," I say sarcastically.
"Aw, come on, Jen! It's not every day you get to meet a famous celebrity."
"Yeah – a famous celebrity who happens to make thousands of people vanish into thin air." I lean back into my seat and groan. "I can't believe I have to be spending the next few days with this punk."
"There is a bright side to this," says Oscar.
"What's that?"
"If he is really responsible for this, you can be the one to arrest him and tell the world how evil he is."
"Oh yeah!" I sit up. "I never really thought of it like that. Thanks, Oscar."
I spend the rest of journey in a happy thought about how I get to take down the superficial, high and mighty twerp of a singer.
xxoOoxx
We arrive at the Sanderson Hotel forty-five minutes later. We use the back entrance to get in as the front is absolutely crowded with fans – mostly female. But when we step into the lobby, it's extravagant! The main entrance is constructed with steel and glass frontage reflecting architecture of the 1960s, and features a grand staircase which ascends against a huge stained glass mural masking the lift shafts.
"Amazing!" says Rose, gazing around the room.
"Totally super-cool," agreed Carrie.
We go over to the check-in desk and get our room key. Two porters take our bags and lead us up to our room.
"Wow!" I rave, walking around the innovative room. The room is spacious airy well-lit and encompass the height of luxury and style. It features a mostly all-white colour palette designed without interior walls and a floor-to-ceiling glass facade that diffuses natural light through flowing layers of ethereal sheer curtains that divide different areas of the room. Design touches include carpets with Voltaire's handwriting, a paintings bolted to the ceiling above the beds – 'The Cloud' by Swedish painter, Prince Eugen, the Duke of Närke, and a luxurious bathroom, with a separate walk-in shower and a freestanding soaking tub. "It's like a surreal Cocteau-like dream world epitomizing a new luxury that is smart pared down and tempered with a healthy dose of wit and irony. In other words, it's fantastic!"
"Jason Beaver has such a luxury lifestyle," says Carrie.
"The fans down on the street are going crazy for him," says Oscar, standing by the window looking down.
"So this is what it means to be rich, successful and admired," says Rose, sitting on the egg chair.
There's a knock at the door. I go over and open the door. Standing in the doorway is a tall, slightly obese man – though he looks like he works a bit because he's quite muscular. His hair is dark and long, tied into a low ponytail and he has a goatee. He's wearing a black faux leather jacket, a white T-shirt, torn faded blue jeans, and his sunglasses has blue tinted lenses and a golden frame.
"Here they are. My little 'Throne Islanders'! Ha ha!" he says, coming into the room.
"Er… who are you?" I ask, closing the door.
"Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Jay Oz, the tour manager," he says – then he kisses the back of my hand. "How do you do?"
"Oh, hi! Yes, that's us; we're 'Throne Island'. I'm JB; I'm the lead vocalist and lead guitarist." I nod to Carrie. "That's Cassie; she's the bass guitarist of the group." I point to Rose by the bed. "Roz is our other guitarist and Colt" – I point at Oscar by the windows – "is our drummer."
"Jason is really looking forward to meeting you. Let's go up to his penthouse."
We follow Jay out of the room and to a private elevator at the end of the corridor where it takes us up to the very top floor of the hotel. When the doors part open, we step into the large apartment. I gaze in awe at the floor space of the penthouse – it's bigger the rooms of my house! The penthouse also features high-end stainless steel appliances from the luxury kitchen, a granite counter-top and a breakfast bar/island, the finest materials fitting, a luxurious flooring system, a fireplace, and more. But it's the fine view of the city skyline beyond the oversized windows that gets my attention – not to mention the swimming pool, Jacuzzi and an outdoor wet bar on the rooftop terrace.
"Whoa!" I exclaim. "Talk about life on top."
"Ah, here he is!" says Jay. We turn to the staircase next to us and descending down the steps is Jason Beaver. He's wearing a denim blue jacket over a black and white stripe top, dark green skinny jeans and white Converse shoes. "Hey, Jason! I just heard the new song and it's great." Jay gives Jason two thumbs-up.
"Thanks, Jay," says Jason.
"Jason, this is the band that'll be supporting you while you're in London – Throne Island."
"Hey, guys."
"Hi, Jason!" says Carrie. "We're soo excited to be on tour with you."
"After all, you are a megastar, aren't you?" says Oscar.
"Thanks," says Jason. "You're music is great too."
"Anyway, enough chit-chat," says Jay. "We have to get back to work, Mr. Popstar; we can't keep the fans waiting."
"OK."
We all pile into the elevator and head down to the ground floor. As we leave the hotel, we are greeted by thousands of crazy fans desperate for an autograph, a photograph or even a kiss from Jason Beaver. He manages to get a few autographs and a couple of pictures taken before Jay whisks him away to the silver minivan that's waiting for him. We all pile into the minivan and soon speed off to the Hammersmith Apollo.
xxoOoxx
When we arrive at the Apollo half an hour later, we see that the roadies are setting up the stage for tonight. Jay takes Jason to his dressing room while Oscar, Rose, Carrie and I climb on to the stage to practise our opening number. We work out how we can perform to the audience and how we can adapt our stage moves to fill the area. We didn't need to practise a lot as we have the Absorb Anything Contact Lenses and the Voice Enhancer Necklaces to do all the work for us.
"Man, I'm parched!" says Carrie when we finished. "I wonder where we can get some food."
"There may be some backstage," I tell her. "Let's go and find out."
Backstage is insanely busy. The stage managers are showing the music technicians where to put the musical equipment and checking that the instruments are in tune, the audio engineer is setting up the sound equipment, and the lighting technicians are rigging the stage and controlling the artificial, electric lights. I also notice a lot of security/bodyguards hanging outside Jason's dressing room, but I brush it aside as it could be to stop anyone who is not a roadie or a musician sneaking around.
"Hey, look over there," says Carrie, pointing.
There's a large table holding cups fills with juice and bottles of water, along with sandwiches and other snacks. We head for the table and pick up some sandwiches and bottles of water. As we head back to the stage, I knock into one of the roadies by accident, causing me to drop the bottles.
"Oh!" I cry. "Sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you."
"Just watch where you're going, all right?" the man says, leaving in a hurry to the dressing rooms.
"Humph! Rude much?"
"You OK, Jen?" Carrie asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Unlike some people." As I bend down to pick up the bottles of water, something catches my eye. Something glimmering. I turn to the object – and find that it's a CD… and it's glowing in a bright yellow colour! "Hey! That's strange, that CD's glowing!"
"What?!" Carrie kneels down to look at the shining object. "Whoa! That really is strange," she says.
"Let's take it back to Rose. Maybe she can find out why it's glowing."
Carrie picks up the glowing disc and hides it under the plate of sandwiches. We hurry back to Rose and Oscar and show Rose the CD.
"What is going on?" she says, examining the fluorescent yellow disc. "Jason seems normal but his fans are crazy. And his CD's glow."
"Looks like there's more to Jason Beaver than meets the eye," says Oscar.
"Hmm. I'll have to examine the CD more thoroughly after the concert," says Rose, pocketing the illuminating disc.
As she does, I quickly turn to the wing of the stage… but there's no-one there. I could've sworn that someone was watching us.
"Jenny? Is there something wrong?" Rose asks.
"I thought someone was spying on us…" I say. "But maybe it's just my imagination. Anyway, we can't just stand around all day. We've got a concert to perform."
As we get ready for our big night and practise for our debut as Throne Island, I can't shake the feeling that someone was watching us. It's most definitely has to do with the glowing CD that we picked up. And it may have something to do with the disappearances.
Question is who was the person who was spying on us?
xxoOoxx
I'm in my dressing room, putting the final touches of my makeup on when the door opens and the stage manager tells me I have five minutes to finish up before I go on stage.
"Don't be long," he orders. "Can't keep the public waiting." Then he closes the door behind him.
I stare at myself for a long time after he'd gone. I'd never thought I'd be performing at the Apollo. The last time I came here was with my sister back in 2011 to see Jessie J perform.
I push back my chair and taking a deep breath; I stand up and pull off the robe I'm wearing to reveal my outfit for tonight. A black and red goth glam ensemble that features a lace up corset top and a short flared skirt with tons of netting so it stands out around me. Red tartan trims the sides of the corset and peeps from the underskirt. I've also got on vibrant red fishnet stockings, edgy black peep-toe boots, and red tartan fingerless gloves. My black hair has strawberry blonde highlights and is pulled into a high ponytail, and the chunky silver spider necklace that I've got on glinted in the lights around the mirror.
"Time to rock and roll," I say to myself. I pick up my yellow electric guitar that's splashed with black and head out of the dressing room.
The stage manager takes me to the side of the stage where the others are waiting for me, and they look awesome! Rose is wearing a dark blue boob tube with a sweetheart neckline, a silver chain with a pendant, denim blue jeans emblazoned with 'I (heart symbol) Rock n' Roll', and black patent ankle strap wooden platform wedges. Black bracelets dangles from her wrists and she's wearing pink tinted sunglasses on top of her feathered hair, and she has her bright blue guitar with her. Carrie ensemble features a brown and white tulle skirt, a khaki green military-inspired jacket with a silver keepsake pin and black knee-high boots, with a big, bold afro wig and a light grey bass guitar to match. Finally, Oscar is wearing a long-sleeved dark grey shirt over black leather trousers with black boots. The drumsticks are tucked under his belt.
"Hey, guys! You look great," I say.
"Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself," says Oscar.
"When we done with this mission, I am so taking this outfit home," says Carrie.
I peek out of the side of the stage. Wow! Every seat is filled. My stomach is doing jumping jacks. This is definitely different to the shows I do in St Hope's. Just calm down, Jen, I order myself. This is supposed to be fun – remember?
The MC is on stage, talking to the audience, telling jokes and anecdotes.
"OK, guys, before we bring out the main event, I hope you guys enjoy the band that is supporting Mr. Beaver!" the MC shouts into the mike. "I want you to put your hands together and give it up for Throne Island!"
"OK, guys, let's do this!" I say, strapping on my guitar. Rose and Carrie do the same and Oscar takes out his drumsticks. Then we step on to the stage and towards the microphone.
The spotlights are blinding. It all feels so unreal. Just breathe, Jenny, I tell myself. It's going to be OK. Oh God, please don't let me fall over or dry up or forget the words – please, please, please.
"Hello London!" I call. There's a huge cheer. "We're Throne Island. We're here, you're there and we are ready to rock this place!"
There's an even louder cheer than before, and we start our first song 'On the Edge', putting all our energy into the performance… This is our moment. It's going to be all right.
I play the first chords of the song and then we launch into the first verse.
Can't control the music, can't control the song,
When I feel the rhythm I've just gotta sing along!
Livin' on the edge, feelin' wild and free!
Chillin' with my friends, it's the only way to be!
We give the most electrifying performances. Everyone in the arena is soon singing along and clapping.
"Can you believe this?" Carrie asks as Rose launches into a solo riff.
"It's amazing!" I agreed. "If I wasn't a spy, I would be doing this every night!"
I have to admit, this is fun. But performing in front of a mirror with a hairbrush is very different from performing on stage to an audience of thousands! I can never do what the pop stars do – but since I'm on a mission, I really don't have a lot of choice! But like I said before, this is awesome.
At the end of the song, the audience erupts into cheers and applause and I look to the others. Rose and Carrie are high-fiving each other and Oscar holds his drumsticks in the air. It's so totally brilliant.
After that, we launch into the next song.
xxoOoxx
Half an hour later when our set is over, we wave goodnight to the audience and hurry backstage to get refreshments and to rest.
"This has got to be the best mission I have ever been on," Carrie says quietly, taking off her giant afro wig.
"Mmmm," I say, sipping my bottle of water. "The atmosphere out there was electrifying. I feel like I'm on top of the world."
"I'm just glad that it's over and done with," says Rose.
"Amen to that," says Oscar, letting out huge sigh.
"Hey guys!" Jason calls to us. He's wearing a black leather jacket over a plum coloured T-shirt with an extreme low V at the front and black skinny jeans with dark red braces, and white Converse shoes. "I've just heard you perform, and you were all fantastic. Great job, guys! Great job!"
"OK, gang, this is the moment you have been waiting for!" says the MC. "I want you all to be on your feet, chanting his name and clapping your hands until it's sore, it's Jason Beaver!"
"Oh, I gotta go. I'll see you guys later!"
The crowd cheer like mad as Jason walks out to centre stage, everyone chanting his name… "Jason, Jason, Jason!"
He takes his bow, drinking in the ecstatic faces, the hands reaching up in desperation to touch him, as he bathes in the glow of being a celebrity…
"Huh?" I see something at the far end of the room backstage. A muscular, bald-headed, black-suited dark-skinned man wearing dark glasses and one ear pierced is holding an illuminating object in his hand. It's the CD that Carrie and I found earlier on! "Guys, look at that."
"Jenny? What's wrong?" says Oscar.
I point to the bald dark man holding the glowing CD. He plays it in the music system and presses a button on the machine. We look to Jason when the music starts up and he sings 'Love Is Doin' It to Me'. Or so we think…
"He's miming!" Carrie gasps. "So much for Jason being normal."
"The CD that the guy put in the music system is a recording," says Oscar.
"That's not all that's strange. Did you see how the guy was dressed?" I say. "He doesn't look like your normal sound mixer.
"Also, where is Jay?" Carrie asks. "Shouldn't he be here cheering Jason on and buzzing about how money he's making out of this?"
"You're right, Carrie. There's something fishy about this – we better check this out."
"You guys go on," says Rose. "I'll keep an eye on Jason."
Oscar, Carrie and I leave backstage and enter the corridor to find Jay. But as we look for him, we find that there is more security than before.
"Hey, watch it! We're the support band," says Carrie, flashing her ID badge to the bodyguards.
"I wonder why there's so much security," Oscar enquires.
"Maybe it's something to do with the you-know-what that we saw," I tell him, taking care not to say 'glowing CD' in case the security guards get wind of this.
We find Jay in the green room, overlooking the concert hall. But when we enter the room, we discover the strangest thing – we can't hear anything! No Jason singing(!), the crowd screaming and cheering and chanting his name – nothing! The only thing we hear in this room is Jay phone conversation.
"…Everything's fine, Mr. Harlow, sir," he says. "The only problem… is those kids from the support band…" Jay looks up when he sees me, Carrie and Oscar. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll call you later." He hangs up and gingerly pockets his phone. "Oh, hi! What's up, guys? Are you having fun?"
"Sure, the only thing is we must be going deaf," I say.
"Yeah – because we can't hear any noise coming from the concert hall," says Carrie.
"Oh, that!" Jay stammers. "You see, this room is totally sound-proofed."
"Sound-proofed?!" Oscar, Carrie and I cry in unison.
"But why?" Carrie asks.
"You know how it is…" Jay is struggling to come up with an excuse. "Hearing the same song over and over again, you just get tired of it. Plus, the thousands of screaming fans really does my head in."
"OK…" I say slowly. "Well, that's that question answered. Now how about telling us why Jason is miming rather than singing."
After a slight pause, Jay stares into my eyes and says, "People would prefer a recording rather than someone singing live."
Jay continues to fix his gaze onto me, as if to say 'Don't ask anymore questions'.
"Fine," I reply after a long silence. "Come on, guys. Let's go."
I turn and leave the green room, with Oscar and Carrie following behind.
"Are you OK, Jenny?" Oscar asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I murmur. Then I add, "There's something weird about this whole mission. I mean sound-proof rooms? Glowing CD's? And Jason doesn't even sing his songs."
"There's also that guy that Jay was talking to – Mr. Harlow?" says Carrie. "I wonder who he is."
"We can call Frank and ask him about Harlow after the concert," says Oscar.
"Good idea," I say. "Speaking of which, we better head back there. I don't like the looks we're getting from the security guards."
We head back to the stage to enjoy the rest of the concert, ignoring the looks that we are getting from security.
I've been on some weird missions, but this has to be the strangest one so far. Just what is it that Jason Beaver and Jay Oz are hiding? Who was the person who was spying on us? And who is Mr. Harlow?
xxoOoxx
Five hours later when the concert is finished, a very tired Rose, Oscar, Carrie and I clamber into the minivan with Jason and Jay. As we travel back to the hotel, I notice how Rose looks jittery – like she's hardly able to keep still. And she keeps muttering something under her breath.
"Hey, Rose? You OK?" I ask her.
"I have to join the Army," she mumbles. "I have to join the Army."
"Eh?!" I reach out to her but she slaps my hand away.
"Let go of me!" she cries. Then she mumbles the same sentence over and over again: "I have to join the Army."
I look to the Carrie and Oscar who both have confused and worried looks on their faces.
"Is everything OK back there?" Jay calls from the passenger seat next to the driver.
"Yeah," I lie. "Everything's cool." Then I turn to the others. "Something weird is going on here," I whisper. "Rose keeps going on about wanting to join the Army."
"Why would she want to do that?" Carrie mutters.
"I don't know. But Jason Beaver, Jay Oz and the mysterious Mr. Harlow have something to do with this." I glance at my watch. It's half past twelve. "It's a too late to call Frank, and we don't want Jay to get suspicious of us for making a late-night call to someone who isn't working at the Sanderson Hotel, so we'll try in the morning."
Oscar and Carrie nod in agreement, and we sit back in silence for the rest of the journey.
When we arrive back at the hotel, we take Rose – who keeps struggling and muttering – back to our room and to her bed, where we knock her out with a spray. Then we get changed and get ready for bed.
"I hope we're doing the right thing – knocking Rose out like that," says Carrie with a wide yawn.
"We had to, Carrie," I say, snuggling down into my bed. "It's the only way to stop her from wandering into the night, like those poor people who attended tonight's concert are about to do."
"Jenny's right," says Oscar, flicking out the light. "And it's only for tonight. Tomorrow, we'll call Frank, who will send someone to pick Rose up and they'll find out what's wrong with her."
"Hmmm. I suppose so," says Carrie in the dark. "Anyway, goodnight, guys."
"Night," Oscar and I say – and then we drift off to sleep.
xxoOoxx
The next morning, I hop out of bed and head for the bathroom to use the toilet. The clock says 8:30 when I come back. I walk to the window and press my forehead against the cool glass. The sun, still low in the east, is trying to burn through the yellow morning haze.
I stand there for nearly a minute. Then I walk over to Rose's bed to see how she is. The duvet is covering her whole head, so I pull it back to make it easily for Rose to breathe… only to find a pillow under the cover!
"What the…?" I pull back the duvet to find that it's only pillows in the bed. "Oh crap!" I go to Carrie and Oscar's bed and wake them up by shaking them. "Guys, get up!"
"Mmm…?" Carrie stirs noisily and looks up. "Jenny?" Her eyes only half open, her face filled with confusion.
"What's going on?" Oscar asks, yawning. He sits up and rubs his eyes. Then he stares at me. "You OK? You look terrible."
"And you would be too," I say – then I step aside to show Oscar and Carrie Rose's empty bed. "Rose is gone."
"What?" Carrie cries. "But how? The knockout gas was supposed to incapacitate her for at least twelve hours!"
"She must be sleepwalking. But it shouldn't be too much of a problem – if she's wearing her Disguise Watch or has her pencil communicator, we'll be able to track her down, along with the thousands upon thousands of people who attended Jason Beaver's concert."
"Er, actually, Jen, there could be a slight problem." Oscar goes over to Rose's bed and holds up her watch and communicator. "And that's not all – the CD that Rose wanted to inspect is gone too."
"Shit," I curse. "Well, that's just great. Not only is Rose missing – along with the thousands upon thousands of people who attended Jason Beaver's concert – but she's left her watch and communicator here, meaning we can't track her! Not only that, but the only evidence we had on this mission gone as well. Fuck!"
"So what do we do now?" Carrie asks.
I rub my face and sigh. "Pass me my phone – I'm gonna call Frank."
Carrie tosses my phone to me. I contact Frank via videophone. The phone rings for ages at Frank's house. He's probably asleep – it is a Saturday morning after all. Eventually, he answers – bedhead and all.
"Hey. It's me."
"Jenny?" Frank's voice is still choked with sleep. "What time is it?"
"It's early. But putting that aside, we've got problems. Rose is missing."
"Missing?" Frank sits up, wide awake in a moment. "What do you mean?"
"She, along with thousands of people who came to Jason's concert last night, has disappeared without a trace. And before you ask, no, we can't track her down because she's left her Disguise Watch and pencil communicator behind."
"How could this have happened?"
"I don't know. She was fine when we played our set, but after the concert she started mumbling about how she wanted to join the Army."
"The Army?" Frank looks very confused.
"And that's not all," says Oscar. "Jason doesn't even sing at his concerts – he mimes. The recordings of his songs are on this weird, glowing CD, which by the way, is missing."
"Miming singers? Glowing CD's?"
"On top of that, when we went to the green room at the Apollo, it was completely sound-proof," Carrie adds. "Jay said that he couldn't stand hearing the same song over and over again, as well as the screaming fans."
"Who's Jay?" Frank asks.
"Jay Oz is the Jason's tour manager," I say. "He looked very suspicious when we asked him about the green room and Jason's 'singing'. Before we saw him, he was on the phone to someone called Mr. Harlow. He told him that there was a problem with me, Oscar, Carrie and Rose."
"Oh dear. Well, that can't be good. OK, let me do a background check on this Jay Oz and Mr. Harlow."
"What about Rose?" Oscar asks.
"I'll check if she's at any of the barracks in and around London. If she says she wants to join the Army, that's where she must be. We will find her, team, don't worry."
"Easy for you to say," I say. "Thanks, anyway. Call us if you've come up trumps."
"I will."
There's a knock at the door after I hang up. I quickly throw the cover over the pillows while Oscar goes over to the door and opens it. It's Jay.
"Oh, good, you're awake," he says, stepping into the room. "Listen, Jason was wondering if you'd like to spend the day with him. You know, shopping, lunch and all that stuff."
"Er… well… you see…" Carrie starts.
"We'd love to," I say.
"We do?" Carrie and Oscar say in unison.
"Yeah. We don't have anything worth doing today, so yeah, OK."
"Yeah. OK," they say, looking very bewildered.
"Great!" Jay turns to leave when he sees Rose's bed. "Oh, er, is your friend still sleeping?"
"Oh, er, yeah. She was completely wiped out with last night's concert. She looked like she was about ready to tip over."
"OK, then. Well, er, I'll see you guys in about half an hour." Jay leaves our room, closing the door behind him.
"Why did you say we were spending the day with Jason?" Oscar hisses.
"If we say no, Jay will get suspicious of us. He's already doubting us enough as it is already," I tell him. "We have to carry on as normal. We need to know why Jason, Jay and Mr. Harlow want Rose and the concert-goers. OK?"
Oscar glances at Carrie who nods at him. "OK," he nods.
"Good. Now, if you don't mind I'm going to have a shower," I say, collecting my wash bag and heading for the bathroom.
"Don't be too long!" Carrie calls.
After I close the door and lock it, I turn the knob of the shower on. Then I get undressed and step into the hot, steamy glass panelled stall.
"Don't worry, Rose. We will find you – the others, too," I say to myself as I stand under the pounding hot water, allowing my muscles to relax. "And we'll stop whatever plan Jason, Jay and Harlow are coming up with. I promise."