My head hurt, which probably meant I didn’t remember right away because I’d been shaking off the sensation of having a bunch of hands—er, minds—pushing against mine. Maddy would make it something to do with the cover story, wouldn’t she? She’d been proud of it . . .
“Rosie,” I said, too loud with triumph. I verified the librarian was still busy. And she was, but two other boys in a stack nearby were looking over at me.
“The Riveter,” Maddy said in a softer tone, and swung the door the rest of the way open. “Enter.”
“Remind me never to cross you, Mata Hari,” I said.
“She was World War One, not Two,” Maddy said coolly.
“Then remind me to copy your history notes.”
Devin was already there, his feet propped on a table in front of the muted movie displaying on the wall. And so was James. Though he sat as stiffly as if he’d been marched in at gunpoint.
“Relax, James,” I said. “No one will ever know you’re a sleeper agent.”
I paused next to Devin. I hadn’t seen him yet today. He was staring up at the flickering footage, filmed on an old factory floor and filled with industrious women. Only he wasn’t really watching it. His eyes were simply pointed in that direction.
That was odd.
I nudged his shoulder with my hand. “You okay? Your loyal subjects were still on your side when you made your triumphant return, I bet.”
He shook his head side to side, and then blinked up at me.
“Oh,” he said, “yeah, fine. I didn’t stay in long.”
I wanted to question why he was acting so weird, but we were out of time. A look at the wall clock confirmed it.
“They should have arrived at the Advanced Research headquarters by now,” I said, tossing my bag onto one of the tables and rummaging for the cap that activated the bug and served as receiver. “And be through security, which means we’re on. You want to do the honors?” I asked Maddy, lifting the pen top.
“Go ahead,” Maddy said, though I got the impression part of her wanted to say yes. Playing it cool in front of James, I bet. Someday he’d kick himself for not noticing her.
I shrugged and pushed the little depression on the end of the pen cap, and a red light blinked, a soft beep following. “That door locked?” I asked.
“Yes,” Maddy responded immediately. Which was good, because we would have a tough time explaining this to anyone who happened to klutz into the room.
I set the cap down on the table, positioning it so we would all have a good view. The audio crackled to life first, tinny with footsteps shuffling along a hallway, and to accompany a projection that popped into being, showing the infrared heat signatures detectable by the bug. Walking bodies, beating hearts, shuffling feet . . . Then they were all standing close together. They were in an elevator. Yes, definitely, because a few seconds later a series of regular beeps sounded and right after the last one, they were filing out of the tight space and along another hallway.
James stood and leaned in close to examine it. “Where did you—did you steal this from your dad? Your dad, the very important general who already hates the Scoop?”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “I borrowed it.”
James might have been skeptical, but he didn’t call me a liar. Which was good, because I wasn’t. I had every intention of putting the bug back where it belonged.
“What is it doing?” Maddy asked.
Devin hadn’t said anything. I’d thought he’d be the one interested in the tech.
“Devin, you can probably guess how it works. You want to explain?” I tried to drag his personality out. Maybe he was depressed about losing the castle? But I didn’t want to make the mistake of assuming he wasn’t in the Warheads’ mental crosshairs like Anavi had been.
“That’s all right,” he said, “you go on.”
“Pretty simple, really,” I said. “An audio-only bug is great for conversations, but useless if you might be looking to visit a place later or find something that the target has put in a safe or some other hiding spot in an office. This gen of infrared camera can shoot through fabric and let you see where your target goes within a location, how many bodies are in a room, stuff like that, not just what they say when they get there.”
The Warheads appeared to be filing into a room, and so I was able to avoid any more questions from James by pointing to my ear and then the image. Now we’d discover how Advanced Research Laboratories was molding young minds every afternoon.
“This must be our newest recruit,” a man’s voice said.
The audio was as crisp as if he was in the library study room with us. The tinny quality had vanished. Another feature of this particular bug model: it compensated for noise impurities. Too bad the latest iteration hadn’t been in Dad’s cabinet, because it boasted clearer visuals.
“Sir, yes, sir,” a chorus of voices said in sync.
“The Warheads?” Maddy said.