Family of Spies, page 11
Gavin laughed. “Cake first? Nice.”
“Why not? We have no grownups to tell us what to do.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Bon appétit,” she said, in an Oscar-worthy imitation of their waiter and returned to her meal.
Ford smiled at his brother. “I see you have taken the dessert-first option as well.”
“You are our fearless leader, after all.”
Ford’s smile grew larger. Their leader. That was a first. With every bite, he felt more up to the task.
Ellie gulped down her soup. Ford shovelled cake into his mouth.
Gavin sighed. “Pretty sure you are the first spies in history to challenge each other to a lunch-eating contest. I have never seen James Bond speed-eat cake.”
Minutes passed, the only sound filling Ford’s ears was cutlery clanking on plates and slurping of café au laits.
“Done,” Ellie said, laying her fork on her plate.
“Huh, you beat me,” Ford said, nearly through his soup. “Give me a second, I’m almost done.”
Ellie pulled out her phone. “I’ll get ready.” She then slid the creased photo of the café from the stack of Great-Granddad clues and laid it on the table next to Ford’s soup bowl.
Ford’s heart fluttered as he swallowed his last mouthful. He pushed down his nerves.
“All right,” he said, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.
Time to get his spy on.
“Wait. We can’t have Ford slipping into a vision surrounded by all these people, just like that,” Gavin said. He slid out a tall menu that lay underneath his plate. “I think you should hide behind one of these. Pretend like you’re reading it and we can be your lookout.”
Ford propped up a menu in front of him. “Good idea, Gav. It can be my literal cover as I go undercover.”
Gavin laughed. “Exactly.”
Ellie passed Ford the photo. “Now remember, speak clearly, but not too loudly. We don’t want anyone eavesdropping.”
Gavin’s smile quivered. “Good luck or break a leg or whatever.”
The moment Ford’s fingers touched the paper, his vision blurred, but the café didn’t vanish like in his other visions. Rather, the café merely changed, ever so slightly. The tables crammed with tourists on iPads and phones morphed into Nazi soldiers crowded around tables brimming with coffees and pastries.
“I’m still here on the patio, but back in 1944. The place is crawling with Nazis. Not a lot of civilians in sight.” Ford looked around. “There’s just the waiters, a handful of men in business suits mingling with the soldiers, and a few women walking very quickly down the street.”
Ford turned and looked through the café window into the restaurant. “So far, no Great-Granddad.”
He sat back in his chair and watched soldiers sipping coffees, eating decadent pastries, and laughing with each other. “It’s like the Germans are on some sort of holiday but it’s the middle of the war.” How could Nazis act so…normal?
Ford swivelled around and stared down the boulevard. A man in a tan trench coat flanked by two officers approached. “I think it’s him.” The men came closer. The civilian tipped his hat at the maître d’. His blue eyes flashed. “Yup, it’s Great-Granddad. He’s here.”
The three men traipsed straight into the restaurant and out of sight. Ford leaped to his feet and dodged through the jam-packed tables, trying hard not to walk through anything or anyone.
Ford came too close to a large soldier and stepped through the man’s foot. Hot pins and needles burned up his leg. “D’oh! Nazi vibes.”
Ford raced through the doorway and scanned the restaurant. “There. I see him. He’s at a table with a bunch of officers. The two men he arrived with are sitting down, but he is just standing there talking.”
What were they saying? Ford walked closer, into earshot, but it was no use. They were speaking German.
“Heil Hitler,” Great-Granddad said loudly, saluting the men. He turned quickly and strode across the restaurant.
Heil Hitler? What? Stunned, Ford followed his great-grandfather, who disappeared down a set of stairs. Ford picked up his pace, not wanting to lose him. Great-Granddad entered the men’s room at the bottom of the steps and Ford ran and squeezed into the bathroom before the door closed. He could still feel that soldier’s aura tingling in his leg. He didn’t want to add walking through a mahogany door to his uneasy sensations.
Great-Granddad looked in the two bathroom stalls. They were empty. He spun and picked up a tall, metal garbage can and placed it on an angle against the door. The lid fit tightly under the doorknob. “That’ll keep out the stinking ratzis.”
“We’ve come down to the washroom in the basement and he’s blocked the door,” Ford said.
Great-Granddad gripped the porcelain sink and stared into the mirror. He whispered to his own reflection. “No time for second-guessing. We only have two days. If owl is going to evade capture, contact must be made.”
“He’s muttering something about an owl. It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Ford whispered, trying to speak so Ellie could still understand what he was saying.
Great-Granddad climbed onto the sink and reached to the top left corner of the wall panel. He pushed hard on the bottom of the inlaid square tile. A click echoed through the room as the top of the tile popped forward, revealing a hidden compartment. He pulled a package from his inside pocket and a piece of paper fell into the sink.
“Crumbs!” he said jumping to the floor. He snatched the paper from the wet sink and blotted at the water with his sleeve. “Owl should still be able to read this. At least he better be able to, otherwise…”
Ford gasped. Owl is a person!
Ford stepped closer to Great-Granddad and peered around his elbow to read what he was so carefully drying.
“Great-Granddad is hiding some sort of instructions behind a panel in the men’s room and it’s for Owl—who is a man—maybe another spy? Anyway, the note is really strange. There is a drawing of an owl, then it says 13:50 and finally inside a box there is the following: a drawing of a lady—wait,” Ford paused. It looked familiar. “It’s that famous painting—the Mona Lisa, and then the number 2, and after that a sun and a moon. Is it some sort of code?”
Ford stepped back as his great-grandfather folded the note in half and then half again. He began stuffing it inside the manila envelope, but stopped suddenly. He stared at the blocked bathroom door, his head cocked.
Ford stared at the door too. Was someone there, on the other side? His great-grandfather silently stepped to the door and laid his ear as close to it as possible without touching the wood.
Ford’s heart raced. “There might be someone at the door,” Ford whispered. “He’s checking.”
Ford held his breath, not wanting to make any noise, which he knew made no sense. After what felt like eternity, Great-Granddad stepped away from the door, tucked the envelope between his teeth, and leaped back onto the sink. Without delay, he stuffed the package inside the hidden compartment and pushed the panel back into place. Jumping to the floor, he raced to remove the trash can and set it back where it belonged. Taking one last glance at the hidden nook, he whispered, “I should have pulled you out earlier, Owl. Stay safe.”
Chapter 21
As his great-grandfather left the bathroom, Ford’s vision clouded. He staggered, reaching out to the sink to steady himself, but the sink quickly vanished. He lurched forward. Something cool and plastic smacked him on the forehead.
He blinked, clearing his sight completely. It was a menu. He was back. He pushed away from the table, his face ashen. Adrenaline rushed through his body.
“I need to use the washroom,” he said.
Ellie dropped her menu on the table. “Are you going to be sick?” She rose from her chair. “Do you need help?”
“No, I’m good. I just need to check on something.”
“I’m coming with you,” Gavin said. “Just in case. Ellie, you keep a lookout.”
Ellie sat back down. “You’re going to look for that secret compartment, aren’t you?”
Ford’s mouth quivered a bit, hoping he didn’t look as rattled as he felt. He needed to keep calm, draw no attention to himself. “Yeah.”
“No fair. If it wasn’t in the men’s room I’d rock-paper-scissors you for it, Gavin.”
The brothers hurried through the outside tables, into the restaurant, and down the stairs—two at a time. Ford was following his instinct, just like Mme. Bellerose suggested. Following his gut, just like Dad suggested. He barged through the doorway and across the small washroom, looking for other customers.
“No one’s in here. Hardly anything has changed since Great-Granddad was here,” Ford said, glancing up at the far corner of the washroom. “I wonder if his hidey-hole is still here.”
Gavin followed his gaze. “Only one way to find out.” He leaned against the door. “I’ll make sure we aren’t interrupted and—”
“I’ll check it out.” Ford finished his brother’s sentence. He climbed on top of the sink and reached across the wall. “This is the one.” He pushed on the bottom edge just as his great-Granddad had in Ford’s vision.
A half-click ground behind the wall and the tile moved forward only a fraction of an inch. As Ford pulled down on the top edge, a rusty creak echoed in the empty bathroom. Excitement filled him as he peered into the compartment. It was quickly replaced by disappointment.
“It’s empty.” He pushed the tile back into place and jumped to the floor. “I thought that if we were meant to see Great-Granddad put the package in here, it must be important and I really hoped the package would still be here.”
“Actually Ford, it’s a good sign that the compartment is empty. That means Owl got his package and it doesn’t mean this memory isn’t important. We still don’t have a complete picture yet. We still don’t know why you are seeing these memories. We can’t rule this one out. We have to think like scientists and not discount anything.”
Ford nodded, unable to shake an uneasy feeling. It was more than an uneasy feeling. It was worry. For Owl.
“Anyway,” Gavin continued. “We better head back up. Knowing Ellie, she won’t wait patiently for much longer. Last thing we need is her barging in here.”
“A thirteen-year-old girl infiltrating the boy’s washroom is definitely unforgettable.”
Ford’s stomach growled. “Man, I could eat a second lunch.”
“Don’t tell Ellie. She’ll freak.” Gavin placed his hand on the doorknob. “Race you to the top!”
He yanked the door open and Ford leapt through the doorway and into the chest of a tall, thin man in a navy suit. Sunglasses fell from the man’s breast pocket and clanked onto the tiled floor. He glared at Ford, but didn’t say a word.
“Oh, pardonnez-moi!” Ford said.
Gavin picked up the man’s glasses and handed them to him. “Je suis désolé,” Gavin said, pulling Ford past the stranger. Ford could feel the man watching them as they climbed the staircase. When they got to the top, Ford turned to look back. The man was standing at the bottom, staring up at Ford. A prickle of fear ran through him. Instinct told him to run.
“We gotta go. Now,” Ford said, pushing Gavin toward the front door.
They ran to Ellie who was counting money onto the table. “Just paying the b—”
“We’re being followed,” Ford interrupted her, his voice a hushed whisper. He grabbed his backpack and led them through the tables of diners. “Which way to the Louvre?” he asked Ellie as they reached the sidewalk.
Ellie pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Follow me. Mastermind at the helm.”
They jogged along the sidewalk for a while, dodging around pedestrians, then slowed to a hurried walk. A wave of dizziness passed over Ford. He needed to eat. He twisted his backpack around and unzipped it, searching for food.
Ellie checked her phone and pointed straight ahead. “This way. So, what happened back there?”
“We came out of the bathroom and ba-bam I ran right into this guy,” Ford explained. “I think he was spying on us.”
Gavin looked behind them, panting. “I—don’t think—we’re being followed.”
“Was he thin, really tall, with blond hair?” Ellie asked. “And did he have sunglasses?”
Ford nodded, yanking a squashed bag of pretzels out of his bag. They were from the plane trip from Canada. He was so hungry he would’ve eaten a two-day-old tuna fish sandwich. “Yeah, in fact he dropped his sunglasses when I smashed into him.” Ford ripped open the bag and tipped pretzel crumbs into his mouth.
“That may be the same man from the library parking lot. I didn’t get a very good look, but it could be the driver of the car,” Ellie said, her words fading away as they approached a busy intersection. She glanced at the map on her phone. “We need to cross and walk along the Seine until we get to the Pont des Arts footbridge and then we’re literally three minutes from the Louvre museum.”
“Good,” said Ford, swallowing down dry pretzel, as they darted across the Quai Malaquais Boulevard. He looked behind them. His arms prickled with goosebumps. “Because I am getting that feeling I got in the library parking lot—someone is watching us.”
Gavin flung his arm across his brother’s chest and pushed Ford behind them. “Ellie, you bring up the rear. No one is getting to Ford.”
Ellie did as instructed, never slowing. “I know you’ll probably blow out your lungs, Gav, but we have to pick up the pace. If we’re being watched, we need to get to the Louvre at lightning speed. And Ford, put away the food already. We just ate.”
“Right. More running,” Gavin said, breaking into a run. “We’ll have covered half of Paris by the time we’re done.”
“At least you’ll be in great shape by the time we’re through our European adventure,” Ellie said and laughed.
Ford wished he could laugh along with her, but his mind was too busy trying to figure out why these undercover agents were so focused on tracking them. Why did poking around in their great-grandfather’s war records trigger an alarm? What exactly did these agencies not want them to find?
Ellie overtook Gavin as they raced across the footbridge and down the steps. “Follow me,” she said as she ran across the street. Gavin puffed hard, but didn’t slow as they darted between clumps of pedestrians. They got tangled in a group of American backpackers, but freed themselves without too much delay.
Ellie pointed to the Louvre. “There!” They slowed as the crowd thickened before them.
Ford relaxed, all tension disappeared from his shoulders. “Hey, you guys. We lost them.”
Gavin wiped his forehead with his hoodie sleeve. “How do—you know?”
“Instinct. I can’t sense them anymore. They just vanished when we were on the bridge.”
“Huh. That was easy,” Ellie said.
“Yeah, maybe too easy,” Ford agreed. “How could three teenagers shake professional secret service agents off our tails, unless—” Ford came to a halt. “That’s it! They aren’t interested in catching us at all. All they’ve done so far is watch us. If we get too close to them, they back off. Like back at the library when you ran after them, Ellie and when I literally ran into that man at the restaurant.”
They slowed to a crawl, forcing people to squeeze past them.
“Hey, yeah. If you ran into the arms of a spy, why didn’t they detain you?” Gavin asked.
“Because they want us to continue and they want to watch our every step. Whatever we are hoping to find out, whatever secret is lost in the past, they want to know it too.”
Ellie smiled. “That is it. They need us to keep running from clue to clue, so they can—”
“Find out what Great-Granddad did during the war,” Gavin chimed in, then he frowned. “But, wait that doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t they know what their own spy was up to?”
“Well, we don’t know which spy agencies are following us,” said Ellie.
Ford stopped walking altogether. His mouth dried. A horrible thought came to mind. “Or maybe it’s because Great-Granddad went rogue.”
Chapter 22
“What? No way did he go rogue. Our great-grandfather was a hero. Just ask my mom. Or your mom,” Ellie said. “I mean, he earned the Member of the British Empire medal. They don’t give those to just anyone. You get it for extreme acts of courage.”
“I agree with Ellie. No way did he side with the Nazis. He wasn’t a traitor.”
Hold on. I’m not saying he went to the dark side, I’m saying maybe he did something that wasn’t in keeping with the S.O.E. or his mission or…”
“Or what?” Ellie asked.
“I don’t know.” Ford thought of Great-Granddad’s words from the café vision. “Back there, at the restaurant, he said he should have pulled Owl out sooner. He sounded worried that Owl was in danger.”
“Sounds like he was responsible for Owl’s safety. I bet he was a mission leader,” Ellie said.
“A mission controller—a spymaster. Maybe…” said Gavin. “Maybe that’s why he got that medal.”
“Sounds likely, but I still have a feeling that something else happened. Something bad,” Ford said.
“Hmmm,” Ellie peered through the crowd. “How about you keep thinking that over while we walk? We still have to get through all these people to actually reach the Louvre.”
“So what did you guys think about that coded message he left Owl?” Ford asked as they wound their way through the tourists, inching their way closer. “What was it again, an owl and a sun and moon and…the Mona Lisa?”
Ellie whipped out her phone. “Let me see what I wrote down…” her words died away as she scrolled down her screen. “Here! You said there was an owl, then 13:50 and inside a box was a drawing of the Mona Lisa painting, then the number 2, and after that a sun and a moon.”
