(Jenny's POV)

The Year Elevens and I are putting up the finishing touches for the upcoming Valentine's Day dance that's happening tomorrow. Now normally when Valentine's Day comes around, I would associate it with a holiday that is perceived to exist primarily for commercial purposes, rather than to commemorate a traditionally or historically significant event. Not to mention that I was single and not in a romantic relationship. But since I am now in a romantic relationship and engaged to the most amazing man in the world, I plan to celebrate Valentine's Day as a holiday that's about love and life.

Anyway, the Year Elevens and I have spent the week decorating the assembly hall into a lovely display. We've set the scene for a heartfelt Valentine's Day with pretty pink and rosy red heart garlands, foil spray centrepieces, confetti, cute heart cutouts, and banners. The food and drinks will arrive on the day of the dance.

"I hope you guys have your costumes ready for the dance tomorrow," I tell Oscar, Rose and Carrie who is helping me put up the banners. I forgot to mention that the dance is a fancy dress event.

Oscar and Rose nod in response.

"My costume is coming sometime today," says Carrie. "I'm gonna shop for accessories after school. This dance is going to be dynamite. And 'Love Through the Ages' is such a sweet valentine's theme."

"Do you know who you're asking to the dance?" I ask.

"There are a few spare boys here and there that I can ask. What about you, Oscar? Who are you taking?"

"I'm not really taking anyone to be honest. I just want to enjoy myself and have a good time," he says.

"But there must be someone," I say. "What about Avril? She's been pining after you for months. Why don't you take her? You two can go together as friends."

"Well… I suppose." Oscar rubs the back of his neck, thinking whether or not to ask her.

"What about you, Rose? Have you got someone to ask?"

"I can think of a certain someone," Carrie says teasingly. "A certain tall, dark and brainy someone who works as an inventor for the research and development division of MI9."

"Carrie," Rose says, giving her a nudge and blushing furiously.

"Now, now, girls," says Oscar, coming between them. "Carrie, stop teasing Rose about Zeke. You know how much she hates it."

"Thanks, Oscar. Besides, it's not like I can ask Zeke to the dance. Mrs King won't allow it. The person has to be someone from the school."

"Don't worry, Rose. I'm sure there's someone who will love to escort you to the dance," I tell her. She smiles gratefully in response.

I'm about to reach for another banner when I feel my watch-communicator vibrating and I hear the beeping from the team's pencil communicators.

"It's mission time," I say. "Let's do it."

I slide down the ladder and follow the team out of the assembly hall and start heading for the caretaker's cupboard. But as we round a corner, Oscar accidently bumps into someone.

"Oh! Sorry," he says. But his eyes widen when he see who he has bumped into. Ms. Holland, the science teacher. The most feared teacher in the entire school, on a par with Aunt Hermione. She is incredibly strict – and it's mostly with the male population in the school and there's a reason for that. About a year before I came to St Hope's, her marriage ended in a bitter and messy divorce when her husband of thirty-three years left her for some, and I quote, 'young, peroxide blonde-haired, Oompa-Loompa tart from Essex'. Now she raves about how her husband left her, or about men in general who are selfish, untrustworthy and would abandon their female companions after the best years of their lives.

This behaviour and hatred of men passed on to her teaching, where she would give lower grades to male students, and distort even basic school science knowledge by including negative references to the male sex. This sort of gender discrimination would have gotten her fired from her job, but since Mr. Flatley is shit-scared of her, the Man Hater, as I call her, is here to stay.

Ms. Holland is middle-aged, but has aged quite well. She has very sharp facial features including a notably large hooked nose with pronounced creases on both sides of it. She has grey hair (with a small light grey streak in the middle) tied in a prim and proper bun. Her ensemble includes tasteful houndstooth pencil skirt, a white blouse, and black waistcoat. A red bow tie, black sheer tights, black Mary Jane shoes and half-moon spectacles complete the ensemble. Despite her misandry damaging her ability to teach, Ms. Holland seems to have some sense of pride in her work.

"You stupid boy! Didn't anyone tell you not to run in the corridors," the teacher snaps, her green eyes flashing with anger.

"I've told him that time and time again," I say, jumping into Oscar's defence. "But you know what men are like, eh? They never listen. I'll see to it that he's punished."

Ms. Holland grunts in responds and after giving Oscar the stink eye, she stalks down the corridor in her usual huffy manner.

"Don't worry, Oscar, you're not getting punished," I say. "But I would advise you to keep out of her way for the next few days."

"If only I could," he says. "But I have double lessons with her after lunch."

"Ouch. I'd hate to be in your shoes."

"I don't think anyone in the world would like to be in the shoes of male population in this school," says Carrie.

"Erm, guys? Wasn't we making our way to HQ?" says Rose.

"You're right. We better get there, pronto," I say.

The four of us hurry down the corridor – while being careful not to run into anyone else. We arrive outside the caretaker store cupboard with me sliding the light switch panel open and placing my thumb on the biometric panel to gain access. Carrie opens the door and we pile in the cupboard. When the door is closed, Oscar pulls the level and we descend down the lift to HQ.

Frank is already waiting for us when we arrive. "Ah, team – there you are," he says. "I was starting to get worried."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I say. "We had a run-in with the Man Hat– er, I mean Ms. Holland."

"I see. Well, you're all here now, so let's get down to business." Frank switches on the middle computer monitor that shows a large six-storey building. "This is the Nickerson Technological and Engineering Centre – a research and development facility located in Middlesex. Last night, it was broken into. The only problem is we don't know what was stolen."

"Do we have footage from inside the building so we can see what the person looks like?" Rose asks.

"Unfortunately, no – all security cameras were taken out."

"So it might be an inside job," Oscar ponders.

"That's what you need to find out."

"Got any gadgets for us?" Carrie asks.

"Just this." Frank holds up a pair of black framed Ray-Ban glasses. "The Digital Camera and Video Glasses. Slip on these high-tech specs and you can record videos or take photos of your surroundings. The hidden embedded camera will begin to record or take photos with a simple click of a button – which is on the right temple of the glasses. The glasses can take up to twenty minutes of video or one thousand, five hundred photos."

"Ooh." Carrie tries on the glasses. "Now this is the true definition of geek chic."

"Better save that for when we get to the facility," I say. "Let's get going."

The team and I collect our Jetpack Backpacks and head out of HQ. When we get to the surface, we exit the store cupboard and carefully zig-zag our way through the corridors and out of the school. Then we strap on out jetpacks, launch ourselves into the air and fly over to Nickerson.

xxoOoxx

We arrive at Nickerson a short time later. We land outside the fenced perimeter as the facility is being prominently guarded – front and back. Beyond guards, the area is populated by other individuals, most likely employees.

"So how are we doing this?" Carrie asks. "The place is crawling with guards."

"Hmmm…" I say thoughtfully, trying to think of a way to infiltrate the facility. But Rose's voice calls me out of my thoughts.

"Hey! Over here!"

Carrie and I go over to Rose and Oscar who are standing by a large manhole cover.

"We can enter Nickerson via the sewers," says Rose. "I checked with my Spy-Pod."

"The sewers? Really?" says Carrie, her face scrunching up.

I don't want to do it either, but I don't have time to agree with Carrie. We've got a job to do.

"Well, we can't exactly go through the front door," says Oscar. He bends down grab hold of the manhole cover. I help him out as the lid is heavy. It takes all our strength to pull it up and we do so, a blast of nasty stench hits us in the face. The manhole cover clangs as Oscar and I drop it and we cover our noses in disgust – so do Rose and Carrie – and we find ourselves looking into a black hole that stretches further than daylight can reach. I activate my torch with the watch-communicator and shine it into the hole. It goes down by about fifty metres.

"OK, team," I say. "As disgusting as this is, we've got a job to do. So… let's do it."

A rusty ladder runs down the side of the shaft. I check that no-one is looking and climb into the hole. I descend until at last my heel strikes the ground and I know I have reached the bottom of the sewer.

I move my light ahead of me, pointing the way ahead and throwing pure, white light on to my immediate surroundings. I'm at the middle of a long tunnel. The floor is covered with sewage sludge that's an unattractive shade of brown and green and a horrible, damp smell hangs in the air. It's cold in the sewer. I zip my catsuit up to my throat. Thank God Zeke made the catsuit using a material that's a thick insulating cloth, protecting me from the cold and wet, while being fire retardant.

"Coming through!" I hear Oscar say. I move out of the way for him. Rose is next, followed afterwards by Carrie and we find ourselves suddenly in a tight space that leaves little room to breathe and even less to move.

"When we find the person who stole from this place," says Carrie, "they're gonna get the ultimate beating from me for forcing me to be in this small, cold, smelly, disgusting sewer."

"That makes two of us," I say. "Let's get this over with."

"I can use my Spy-Pod to lead the way," says Rose.

We walk along down the long and dirty sewer, with me and Rose in the front and leading the way. Carrie and Oscar are walking closely behind us. It's horrible here. It's like being buried alive, and it takes all my strength to force myself forward. As we walk I can hear Carrie shivering and muttering.

"Is it a bad time to mention that I'm claustrophobic?" she asks, her voice small.

"You're claustrophobic?" I ask.

"I didn't know that until just now," she says. "Are the walls moving? I feel like they're moving."

"Easy, Carrie," says Oscar. His voice sounds so kind when he talks to her. Come to think of it, he's been kind and sweet towards Carrie for some time. Could it be that… he likes her? "I'll hold your hand tight and I won't let go. I promise."

Rose and I share a glance at each other with raised eyebrows. Yep – Oscar definitely likes Carrie.

We continue to follow the tunnel. There is absolutely no sound in the sewer apart from our squelching footsteps in the sludge, dripping water and unfortunately, the resident rats. I hear Carrie give a little squeak.

"Scary, huh?" I hear Oscar say. "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

I smile to myself at that sweet moment. Maybe I should hook those two up like I did with Blane and Daisy.

The air is starting to warm up as we move deeper in the sewer. When we round a corner, I can feel a rush of warm air streaming towards me to the point where I unzip my catsuit. (Not completely all the way – I'm only showing the top on my cleavage!)

"We must be under the building now," I say to Rose.

"Hm," she replies with a nod. We move cautiously, wondering what we're about to come to. We turn a corner and find something that catches my eye. I aim my torch and see that there is a ladder leading to a manhole cover on the ceiling.

"Wait here," I whisper to the team, and approach the ladder. I climb up the metal rungs until I reach the manhole cover. Tentatively, I reach out and press upon the grille, but it's screwed on tight. I take out my Laser Lipstick and cut around the grille, praying that no-one on the other of the room can hear what's happening.

When I finish I take the grille with both hands and push. It lifts up. I slide the grille silently aside and carefully climb through the hole. I beckon the others to come and I help Rose through the hole, followed by Carrie. After Oscar comes through the hole, he reaches for the grille and sets it back in place. Provided nobody looks too closely, they won't see anything wrong.

"I wonder where we are," says Carrie.

"We're inside Nickerson," Rose replies.

"I know that! I mean, I wonder what part of the building we're in."

I deactivate my torch and look around the room. It is of considerable size, filled with pipes, pumps and valves, machinery, heaters and tanks, a boiler.

That's when I know where we are.

"We're in the boiler room," I tell Carrie. I check for cameras, and then cross to the door. It's unlocked. I open it, one centimetre at a time, and peered out. The door leads to a short corridor with a door at the end of it.

"Come on, the coast is clear," I tell the team. We walk out of the boiler room and head for the door. I grab the handle, turn and pull.

It won't move.

"Anyone got a hairpin?" I ask.

"I've got a paperclip," Oscar says, fishing it out of his pocket. He goes to the door and clicks the lock with almost zero effort.

"Wow," Carrie breathes, impressed. "You need to teach me how to do that."

"Maybe later," says Oscar. "Right now, we've got a mission."

"But we can't do it without a disguise," I say, and use my watch-communicator to change into a green caretaker outfit with matching cap, along with mop and a bucket full of water. The others follow.

"That's better," I say. "I think we should stick together. That way if anything goes wrong, we can leave together."

The team nod in agreement. "According to my Spy-Pod, there's isn't many people on the fourth floor, except for the five people huddled outside a lab on that floor," says Rose. "I think that's where the robbery took place."

"Then that's where we're heading."

The four of us leave the small corridor and enter a wider one where the employers are going about their daily business. The team and I make our way through the long corridor and head for the elevator. After we pile ourselves inside, Oscar presses the button for the fourth floor.

When we arrive on the floor, the four of us walk down another long corridor before turning a corner – and being stopped by a security guard.

"You cannot come here. This area of the building is off limits," the lean, fair-haired figure says, his face blank.

"But we've cleaned all other floors," Oscars says in an Eastern European accent to further his disguise. "Please, sir – you will not know that we're here."

"Did you not hear me the first time? I said this area is off limits. Now clear off, all of you." The guard stares us down and the team and I have no choice but to turn and retreat back the way we came.

"Hmph! Rude much?" says Carrie, crossing her arms. "Did he forget to have his bowl of manners this morning or something?"

"He's just doing his job, Carrie," says Oscar.

"Yeah – and we've got five security guards who are just doing their jobs around that corner," says Rose. "Now what do we do?"

I go into thinking mode. I look around the corridor and notice that the security cameras are all destroyed. I also notice that there's a vent in the ceiling. I suddenly get an idea. If this was a cartoon, a twenty-five-watt light bulb will appear over my head.

"I've got it," I say. "What if someone crawls through the vent to get into the office where the guards are at while the rest of us stay here and clean so we don't arouse suspicion?"

"Carrie and I can go," Rose offers. "I can use my Spy-Pod to get the directions and Carrie can use the Digital Camera and Video Glasses to get the evidence."

"All right, then. First we need to get you into the vent."

"I've got this," says Carrie. She takes a few steps back and runs down the corridor. Suddenly, she leaps up, grabs the grille of the vent and pulls it down, opening it. Then she flips into the vent feet-first.

"I'm in!" she says, poking her head out.

"There's no way I can do that," says Rose.

"Don't worry, Rose, you won't," I say. We head over to the vent, and I squat down and tell Rose to get on my shoulders. She climbs on my shoulders and I slowly stand up. Once I'm up, Rose is pulled into the vent by Carrie and at the last minute, she reaches for the grille and closes it.

"Right, that's them off to do their jobs." I turn to Oscar. "Now let's do ours." We immediately get to work and start cleaning the floor with our mops.

"I really don't know how Frank does it," says Oscar after a moment.

"Hey, you know what they say – it's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it," I say. Oscar smiles in responds and carries on cleaning. As we clean, my mind wanders back to the sewers when Oscar was comforting and reassuring Carrie while she was fighting off the sense of claustrophobia and freaking out over the rats. I decide to use this opportunity to coax Oscar into confessing his feelings about Carrie.

"You know, Oscar… it was very kind of you to comfort Carrie while she was stressing out in the sewers earlier," I say.

At this, his face flushes red. "Yeah, well, um… I was… I was just helping out a friend, that's all," he stammers.

"Right," I say slowly. "And here's me thinking that you were only comforting her just so she can hold your hand." There is a little silence. "Oh, come on, Oscar! I've seen the way you look at Carrie. It's been going on for weeks. You like her, don't you?"

"Ssh! Not so loud!" says Oscar, looking around the corridor to see if anyone else heard. He's going red right to the tips of his ears. He lets out a sigh. "You're right, OK? I might have developed… feelings for Carrie. I've liked her for quite a while. She's carefree and sweet, with a great big smile on her face and a sunny disposition on life. And at the same time, she's a skilled gymnast and martial arts expert who can probably kick a man's head clean off. But…"

"Let me guess – she doesn't know that you like her?"

Oscar nods. "I don't know if she likes me back or if she sees me as just a friend."

"Mm-hm." I say, nodding like I'm a therapist. "Well… if you want my advice, I say you should bite the bullet and tell Carrie how you feel."

"Oh, I don't know, Jen…"

"Come on, Oscar, you've got to. Otherwise it'll eat you up inside and you be wondering why you never made a move. So when we're done with this mission, you're gonna ask Carrie to the dance and while the two of you share a slow dance, you're gonna man up and tell her how you feel. If she likes you back, hurrah. If she says she wants to remain friends, well at least you tried, but you'll better that you told her. So… does that sound like a plan?"

A few seconds goes by before Oscar gives a small smile and nods. "That sounds like a very good plan to me," he says.

"There you go! Carpe diem. Seize the day. Put aside all your fears and worries, and just go for it."

This gives Oscar an even bigger smile, and we both get back to mopping.

"Hm. Speaking of Carrie, her and Rose should be back right about now…" I begin – and stop when I hear a commotion from around the corner. Oscar and I check it out – and find two security guards dragging out Rose and Carrie from the lab!

"Looks like cleaning time is over," I tell Oscar. "Let's go."

We burst into action and charge at the guards, armed with only our mops.

"Hey, meathead!" I call to the guard who turned us away. As soon as he turns around, I leap in a forward turning motion and swing-smacks my mop downward as I land, knocking the guard out.

Another guard, who is short and muscular and black, charges towards me, but I use the mop handle to smack his head in a simple up-down, side-to-side motion before swinging the mop, golf-style, knocking him to the ground… by several feet.

"All units – we have trespassers on the fourth floor…" a fit, dark-haired man tells his colleagues on the radio. I rush over to him and use the tip of the mop handle to hit him, hard, under the chin. The guard gets knocked off his feet and lands flat on his back, the radio falling out of his hand and sliding down the corridor.

After I take him out, I turn to see if Oscar needs help – but he's got the situation covered. He's already knocked out one of the guards, and with the last one – who he seems to be playing tug of war, only with the mop – Oscar lets go of the handle, so the pole smacks itself hard into the guard's face, incapacitating him. Ouch.

"Nice job, Oscar," I say. I turn to Rose and Carrie. "Are you two OK?"

"We're fine," Carrie replies. "We've got everything that we need."

"Then let's get out of here."

"How? It won't be long before more security guards get here," says Rose.

"I've got this," says Oscar. He runs to the end of the corridor and activates the fire alarm. Then he runs back to us. "With people rushing to get out of the building, the guards will be swept up in the commotion, giving us time to escape!" Oscar yells over the screech of the alarm.

"Good thinking, Oscar!" I yell back. "Let's vamoose!"

The team and I take off for down the corridor and head for the large EXIT sign hanging over the door. We shove it open and we're greeted by a large group of workers rushing down the stairs to leave the building. We throw ourselves in and hurtle up the stairs, barging into people, zigzagging past those who won't budge, bumping and jostling, until I see two security guards at the top of the fifth floor staircase. One of them tries to make a grab at me, but I dodge – making him grab Carrie instead, who lets out a scream.

"Carrie!" I scream as she struggles in the guard's grip.

"Let her go!" Oscar yells, and palm strikes the guard on the nose. His grip on Carrie is lost as his nose starts gushing fountains of blood.

"Why you little…!" the other guard begins. He reaches for Oscar, but I jump in front of him and I poke the guard in his eyes. While he's screaming and holding his eyes in pain, he and his nosebleeding partner are swept down the stairs by the crowd.

"I've got you, Carrie," he says, grabbing her hand. He's got the right idea, so I grab Rose's hand and together, the four of us start running up again, pushing and shoving and dodging, up until we reach the top of the staircase. I take one look over my shoulder. More security men are clattering up the stairs with only a floor or so to spare.

"Keep moving!" I tell the team. We race down a short corridor, shoving through the door and out onto the roof.

We quickly change back into our spy suits, activate our Jetpack Backpacks and launch into the air, flying away from the building. In the distance, I hear the single word "Stop!" call out. Then there is a crack and a bullet whips past. The team and I rise higher into the sky, the guards becoming smaller and smaller, angrier and angrier.

I take a deep breath. "That was a real close call, wasn't it?" I say. "Let's get back to St Hope's. We can all do with a rest."

The team nod in agreement, and the four of us sail back to school through the sky.

xxoOoxx

By the time we land at St Hope's, the team and I are absolutely knackered, but we use the last of our strengths to get into school and head down to HQ, where Frank is waiting for us.

"Welcome back, team," he says. "How was it?"

"Well, other than walking through a sewer, masquerading as caretakers, beating up security guards and escaping with our lives, I say the mission went well," I say.

Carrie whips out the Digital Camera and Video Glasses. "I got some pictures of what was taken," she says, handing the glasses to Frank. He takes a USB plug and connects it with the glasses and the computer and starts to go through the photos.

"Hey, Oscar," says Carrie. "Thanks for saving me from that guard. That was awesome what you did."

"It was nothing," he says, smiling shyly and sporting a bright blush.

I jab him in the ribs and clear my throat while jerking my head towards Carrie at the same time, as if I'm telling him that there's something he needs to do – which he does, if he has the courage.

"Well, um, actually, Carrie, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he says.

"Fire away."

All right, Oscar. It's time for you to seize the day.

"I was wondering…" he says. "You know the valentine dance everyone's been talking about? Tomorrow? I just thought I'd ask… um… d'you think we should go? Me… and you?"

Carrie and Rose stare at Oscar, stunned. Even Frank, with his ears pricking up, seems intrigued. Oscar is turning a deeper shade of red to a point where I think he might pass out.

But Carrie's grin is a mile wide and she says, "Sure. I'd like that."

It's now Oscar's turn to smile, mentally sighing in relief. Rose raises her eyebrows in amazement, while I give Oscar a small pat on the back and sit by the computers. I watch as Frank goes through blueprints of some sort of device that looks like a virtual reality headset.

"So," I begin, "what have you found?"

"They're blueprints to a machine that can read minds," Frank replies. "It's called the Brainwave Scanner. According to the blueprints, the device works by flashing a series of images in the mind of the subject and records their reaction. Soon the Scanner will have a 'library' of the subject's thinking patterns. The Scanner then reads the subject's mind and projects the images on a monitor."

"So it's obvious that the person who stole the Scanner is planning to use it for devious needs – like getting the combinations to the vault at a bank. It's just finding out who that person is."

"I might have something," says Rose. She takes out a tore piece of black cloth. "While Carrie was taking pictures, I scooped around the lab and saw this snagged on the workstation. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to analyse it."

"Don't worry, Rose. I can scan it right here…" Frank stops when his phone rings. He sighs and stands up. "It's from Mrs King. I have to go – I'm afraid the analysis will have to wait."

"I'll come too," I say, standing up. "I need to shower at least three times to make sure I don't smell like a toilet after going through that sewer."

The three young spies nod in agreement, and the five of us exit HQ.

xxoOoxx

The day drags on. After school Frank and I head back home where I go upstairs to do some marking while Frank gets dinner started. I come down an hour later, and we eat and talk about the Valentine's Day dance tomorrow, as well as the mission and of course, the wedding.

After a few hours of watching soaps and trashy TV, Frank and I head upstairs and get ready for bed. I change into my PJs, brush my teeth and snuggle down into the bed. I give Frank a quick kiss before he flicks out the lights. After a few minutes of lying awake, I close my eyes and fall fast asleep…

Br-r-r-r-ring!

I wake up with a jolt. The sound is coming from the table next to the bed. My mobile phone. I curse quietly to myself for not putting it in silent mode. And as the phone continues to ring, I curse again when I look at the time it says on the screen. 4:02 A.M. I kiss my teeth and end the call and put it on silent. Who the hell is calling me at this time? Probably anyone. Well, that anyone can call me in the morning – when I'm fully awake.

I lie back down, close my eyes and drift off back to sleep…

Only for the phone to start vibrating a few minutes later.

Once again, I wake up with a start. "You've got to be kidding me," I mumble. I'm ready to give this person a piece of my mind. Without hesitating I answer the call. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" I whisper sharply.

And the last thing I remember is hearing white noise on the other end, followed by a voice who says the following in a rasping whisper that hurts my ear: "You are now under my control…"