Page 41 of One Knight Stand

I glanced around the table. “I’m just glad you guys didn’t change your mind and leave.”

Mike waved a hand, a piece of bacon still between his fingers. “You know, Angel, UTOP isn’t just a competition or a school. We’re training to be operatives, and that means we’re going to be risking our lives, possibly every day. We have to depend on each other in ways we aren’t experienced or comfortable doing. You brought that into focus for me. It’s a lesson I couldn’t have learned in the classroom. So,gracias.”

Frankie snatched a piece of bacon from my plate started eating it. “Mike is right, you know. It’s the epitome of irony, if you think about it. The spy business is all ‘don’t trust anyone,’ when in actuality, most of the time you do have to trust someone. In our case, we have to trust each other, because our lives depend on it.”

Her comment wasn’t lost on a loner like me. The hardest part of spy school so far was the teamwork and trust. I’m still a work in progress, but the fact that I’d asked for help, and they’d responded in the affirmative, was a huge step forward me and for us as a team.

I was thinking what to say to that revelation when Wally staggered into the kitchen, rumpled and bleary-eyed. His hair stood straight up, and his glasses were askew. Like I had, he headed straight for the bacon.

Jax greeted him and dropped a couple of strips of bacon, some pancakes, and scrambled eggs on a paper plate for him. Wally brought his food to the table, sliding into the empty chair next to me.

“Am I the last one up?” he asked.

“Barely,” I said. “I just got here.”

He realized Kira sat across from him and reached up to touch his hair. “I guess I should have combed my hair.”

I bumped shoulders with him. “No way. We like it when you keep it real.”

Everyone chuckled, including Kira, so Wally shrugged and dug in.

“What’s the plan for today, Angel?” Bo asked, coming into the kitchen from the living room. He’d showered and shaved and looked handsome, fresh, and ready to go.

I felt like I’d been trampled on by a hundred horses, and was pretty sure I looked like that, too. I wished I had taken a shower before I came to breakfast, but it was too late now. “Wally, Frankie, and I are working on my dad’s riddle. Mike and Hala are gathering as much information as they can on J. P. Lando, my dad, and the top-secret project. You, Jax, and Kira are working on the best way to get me to the meeting with my dad without being followed.”

Jax dumped the pans in the sink and washed his hands. “I cooked, so someone else is on dishwashing duty.”

“I got you covered, buddy.” Mike closed his laptop and walked over to the sink.

“Time is definitely short,” I said. I quickly ate the rest of my food. “Frankie, Wally, you guys ready to get to work?”

“Absolutely.” Frankie bounced up from behind the table, showing off neon-orange tennis shoes with sparkles. “I’ll go get my laptop.”

“Give me a minute to finish the rest of these incredible pancakes, and I’ll report for riddle duty,” Wally said, forking a piece into his mouth. “This is seriously good cooking, Jax.”

“Fuel for the mind,” Jax said, wiping his hands on a paper towel. “We’re going to need it today.”

I ignored the flutter of anxiety in my stomach. He was right. We had a lot to do, and although I didn’t want to put too much pressure on myself, everything hinged on me.

I paced the living room, my brain racing. Mr. Toodles followed, yipping at my heels, probably thinking I was playing a game with him. “Wally, read it to me again, this time slowly.”

“How many times do you want to hear it?” he asked from the couch, my laptop balanced precariously on his knees.

“As many times as it takes. Sometimes I absorb things better when I hear them. I’m as much an aural learner as a visual one.”

Sighing, he looked back at the screen and read it again. “The title is All About Numbers. Here’s what’s written:

One dark 3-D smooch, not a single kiss more,

Ilion, New York, is starting a war.

Tulinsky, it means something to you,

Check number nine, and you will be through.

“Nope, still means nothing to me,” Frankie said cheerfully.

“And you’restillnot the target audience,” Wally said. Frankie stuck her tongue out at him, but he ignored her and looked over at me. “Anything ring a bell this time, Angel?”

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