Double Vision (19 page)

Bob was at the back of the plane, obviously ready to take a stand. “I am keeping this,” he said, waving the phone while walking toward the front.

“Give me the phone.” Drake got up.

“You will not get it until you apologize. I am your right-hand man, the brains of the operation, yet you treat me like a fool.”

“Because you
are
a fool. Give me my phone and sit down.” Drake pointed to the empty seats behind me and Françoise. “By the children.” He laughed, and Agent Fullerton joined in.

“You think I'm a joke.” Bob clenched his jaw as he got closer. I glanced around. The exit door was at the front of the plane. “You think I'm a doll you can manipulate,” Bob cried.

“You mean a puppet?” Drake said with a scowl. “You really need to work on your English.”

But then Bob pushed Drake and tossed the phone down, crushing it under his big black boot with a satisfied look on his face. “Who is the puppet now, huh?”

Suddenly, everything happened at once: the plane dropped due to turbulence, Drake fumbled for his gun, and Agent Fullerton went after Bob.

I knew this was our chance. Françoise saw it, too, because she got up and pulled her father along to the front of the plane.

I grabbed my backpack and followed. Agent Fullerton, Bob, and Drake were fighting in the rear of the plane, but I knew that wouldn't last much longer—they would figure out we were trying to escape.

Françoise gave me a look of terror. “There are no parachutes.”

“I have one inside my backpack,” I said, making a mental note to thank Henry.

“But there are three of us!” Françoise said, almost in tears. “Now what?”

I had no good answer, but Françoise's father did. “You kids go. If you hold on to Lincoln, he'll get you down safe.”

“No, Papa, we came here for you.” Françoise clutched his arm.

Jacques Mégère shook his head. He handed Françoise a wooden box, which she stuffed inside her jacket pocket. “You must go,” Jacques said. “I'll be fine—Jules is my brother. I know how to handle him.” He lifted the giant red lever, opened the door, and stepped aside, bracing himself so he wouldn't fall.

I strapped on my backpack, took Françoise's hand, and felt, really, really sick all of a sudden. “I can't do this.” Jumping out of an airplane—that was Benjamin Green's territory. And I knew by now that pretending to be the guy only got me into more trouble.

“Of course you can,” Jacques said. “Remember: just follow the cipher.”

And he pushed us both out of the plane.

I COULDN'T BREATHE, THINK, OR ANYTHING
.
I was flying!
Actually, forget that—
I was falling!

This was not good.

Françoise seemed oddly calm next to me as we plunged through the white clouds. Toward the lights of Paris.

I was going to die. We could fall right on top of a building! Splatter on the French pavement or something. Mom would have to come and scrape me up, and—

Then I thought of the parachute in my backpack. “My chute!” I yelled, trying to grab behind me, lifting the flap to the cord.

Françoise hugged me, which confused me at first. Let's be honest: yesterday, the girl had been ready to choke me with a stick. But then she just yanked the cord, and we both jerked back as the parachute opened to slow our descent.

And it was very peaceful all of a sudden. The clouds cleared, and we had a fantastic view of Paris. The way the main streets fanned out like a star, with all the bright lights—it was breathtaking. And so was the thin air: I felt pretty dizzy as we made our way down.

“Hold on to me,” Françoise said as she put my arms around her waist. She pulled the chute, guiding us toward the Eiffel Tower, and then to the fountain in front of it.

We hit the water, and Françoise let go of me. I rolled, rolled, rolled, until I was wrapped inside the parachute like a cocoon.

“Help?” I asked, trying to see through the white fabric. “Françoise?” She'd pulled another one of her disappearing acts. Where had she gone so fast?

The water was freezing. I heard footsteps all around me. When I finally stuck my head through a hole in my parachute package, I looked right at three faces.

Very angry policemen's faces.

“Bonjour?”
I tried a friendly smile.

The French police didn't smile back. Instead, I was arrested, for the third time in two days. Mrs. Valdez would be shocked by how I'd taken the getting-into-trouble thing to a whole new and international level.

Thankfully, Albert Black showed up to pass cigars to the police and crack jokes in French.

Agent Stark helped me roll up the wet parachute. “Is there anything you can do without getting into trouble? Never mind.” She shook her head. “Don't answer that.”

The French police tore up the ticket. They could be nice when you had a big guy with Cuban cigars and a top secret badge on your side.

I kept looking around for Françoise, but no dice. Still, I couldn't blame my partner in crime for not waiting around to get arrested.

People had crowded near the fountain, trying to see if I was going to be dragged away in handcuffs like on TV, but eventually, they took off. So did Agent Stark, after telling me to keep out of trouble, “and get cleaned up.”

“You just had to use that parachute, didn't you?” Albert Black said with a sigh as we started back to the hotel.

“Why else did Henry give me one?” I got into a cab.

Sitting back in his seat, Albert Black said, “So tell me what happened—the short version.”

I told Black that Agent Fullerton was sabotaging the mission, and how we had to jump from the plane to get away. “And Drake is Jacques Mégère's brother.”

Albert Black chewed on that as our cabdriver navigated Paris's nighttime traffic. “So now Drake is getting the
Mona Lisa
somewhere in Toulouse?” Black asked.

“That was Françoise. She tricked him into thinking that her dad hid it at the family vacation home.”

He laughed. “That girl would make a mighty fine agent, kid. Now when you were on the plane, did Mégère tell you where he put the evil
Mona Lisa
?”

I shook my head. “He just said to follow the cipher, which says it's at home.
Home sweet home
. Whatever that means.”

Albert Black sighed. “We're running out of time here, Linc. That mother of yours is calling all over the place, trying to find out if boot camp will let you come home for Thanksgiving, and if you're eating enough.”

“That sounds like Mom all right. I'll call home and see if I can get her to cut it out.”

Albert Black touched my shoulder, and shook his head. “I'm closing this case.”

“Why?”

“The boss's orders.”

“Ah.”

“We're not exactly undercover here, with you getting into it with the French police every day.”

I thought of arguing that the first arrest was my own fault for trying to skateboard to the arc, but the second time it was Ben's doing, and the third time Drake's. And that it was a good thing I escaped, otherwise I might be chopped into small pieces right about now. But I knew Albert had made up his mind. “What about Ben?”

Albert shrugged. “Had to let the kid go. Long story.”

“Long story?” The cab pulled up to the Princesse, and the driver glanced in his rearview mirror, hinting that our time was up.

“It's almost ten. Time to call it a day,” Albert Black said. He handed the driver a euro bill, and we both got out.

“So that's it?” I couldn't believe the mission was over. “How about my family, the lawsuit?”

“It'll be taken care of. You have my word.”

“Even without the evil—”

“Shhh.” Albert Black cut me off. “Yes. Now get some sleep. We're flying out of here tomorrow at three, Linc. Make sure you're ready when the cab comes at noon.” He smacked my shoulder.

“Sure. Yeah.”

“Tomorrow, you can go say good-bye to the girl, all right? And bring us back a few of the croissants with the chocolate in the middle. I like those.”

TIME: THURSDAY, 1:59 A.M.

STATUS: ABOUT TO BE RUDELY AWAKENED

NOW THAT THE GOVERNMENT PROMISED
to take care of the Baker lawsuit troubles, you'd think I was done, right?

Think again. I mean, Drake's guys weren't just going to give up, I should've known that. Not with five hundred million dollars at stake. But I didn't think about this—I was just sleeping like a bear. I mean, all that excitement had worn me out.

So when my phone rang I didn't even open my eyes to look at the number on the little caller ID screen. I just picked up and cleared my throat. “Hello?”

“Hello, Lincoln Baker.” The voice on the line sounded dark and very awake.

“Who's this?” I sat up, blinking at the clock. “You know it's two in the morning?”

“It's five in the afternoon here in California. Sunny, warm.”

My stomach dropped. I checked my phone's screen. This creep was calling from my house.

“It's a beautiful day for a last-minute doctor's appointment.”

“Who is this?” I was wide-awake now.

“Today, I'm Dave from D.E. Health Services. Those initials stand for Drake Enterprises, in case you're wondering. Your mother was so grateful we could fit your grandfather in for his hearing-aid appointment.”

“You took Grandpa?” My voice was squeaky.

“Just for a few hours. I have a message from Drake.”

I tried to swallow, but I couldn't.

“Bring him the evil
Mona Lisa
.” The guy paused. “And I'll be sure to bring your grandpa home safely.”

“But I don't have it.”

“I'm just the messenger. Oh, and there's another part to the message.”

I waited, too terrified to talk.

“Don't tell the police or your top secret friends, or else.” He didn't need to say more. “And happy Thanksgiving.”

“Leave my grandpa alone!” I yelled, but the line was dead.

You know that part in the story where you think it couldn't possibly get any worse, but it does? This was that point. Only this wasn't some movie.

I got up and paced my room, tripping over my backpack, cursing. Grandpa had been captured by the bad guys as I slept in my Paris hotel room. All this time I'd spent trying to save my family, and look where it got us.

Would they hurt Grandpa? I mean, he was a ninja in the way he snuck up on you, but he's also eighty-three. His ninja skills could only take him so far.

I sat down on my bed, took a deep breath, and forced myself to focus. There wasn't time for me to freak out; I had to stay calm.

I thought of calling Daryl or Sam, but that wouldn't work. I couldn't tell them about the message. Not that they'd believe me anyway, and besides, their parents weren't too crazy about my Linc disasters. Which left me only one option.

I had to find the evil
Mona Lisa
.

I couldn't do anything right then—I mean, it was two in the morning. I at least had to wait for France to wake up. So I spent hours tossing and turning in my now-not-comfy-anymore bed. Thinking of Grandpa. Drake. What was I supposed to do now?

At seven, I took a thirty-second shower and rushed out the door. When I got onto the elevator, I used my room key card and pushed the P button. I needed help.

I needed my friend Henry. And knowing him, he was already hard at work on the next genius gadget.

When I got to the Penthouse floor, the elevator opened to a cluttered room. There were boxes everywhere and a few suitcases. Henry was taping up a box at the dining room table. “Hey, Linc.” He frowned when I got closer. “Dude, you don't look so good.”