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Authors: Gordon Korman

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Mr. Martinez was at a complete loss about what to do. “He has a bill of sale —”

“So he says,” Savannah scoffed. “I haven’t seen it. And even if I do see it, I won’t believe it, because it’ll be fake!”

Mr. Nastase made an elaborate show of checking his watch. “My goodness, where did the time go? Oh, yes, it was wasted on slander and accusation. Your tour is over.” His brow clouded menacingly. “Now.”

Savannah looked beseechingly at her teacher, but Mr. Martinez shook his head sadly. “I want to help you, but the school can’t get involved with this. You’ll have to talk to your parents.”

“Cleo can’t stay here!” Savannah protested. “This place is a germ factory! She’ll get sick! All these poor animals will, if they’re not sick already!” She grabbed the door of the monkey’s cage and began to heave on it. A padlock held it in place. In growing agitation, she tried to pick up the
entire cage. It was bolted to the bulkhead and wouldn’t budge.

The zookeeper watched her with alarm. “
Klaus!
” he called.

The man who came running was at least a man and a half, with huge hands and enormous feet. Size 22 construction boots pounded the deck with every step.

“Escort our guests ashore, please,” Mr. Nastase ordered. “And make sure they get back on their bus.”

Klaus frowned at the clock. “There’s still twenty minutes to go,” he rumbled in a voice that sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

“Not for this lot,” the zookeeper said coldly. “They’ve already caused disturbance enough.”

Mr. Martinez gently but firmly pulled Savannah off the cage. Klaus began herding the visitors back through the exhibits toward the gangway.

As they disembarked, they must have appeared totally cowed, because they drew stares from the student group waiting to go in next.

“You guys are in for a treat,” Darren assured them.

Savannah seemed to be planning a bull run back onto the paddleboat. “I can’t leave her!”

Mr. Martinez held on to her arm. “I understand you’re upset,” he said firmly. “But maybe you were seeing Cleopatra there because you wanted it to be her. Going back will only create more of a scene.”

Savannah shuffled and looked torn, offering neither excuse nor apology.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by Griffin. “Mr. Martinez, I don’t know much about monkeys, but I know Savannah. If she says that’s Cleopatra, that’s good enough for me.”

Ben stepped forward. “Me, too.”

“They’re right,” said Pitch. “There’s no way that Mr. Nasty understands animals like Savannah. He’s got the crummiest zoo I’ve ever seen!”

One by one, the students all expressed support for their classmate. Her record as an animal expert spoke for itself.

Even Darren was supportive. “Much as I hate to agree with these knuckleheads, my money’s on Drysdale. That guy jacked the monkey.”

All this only served to make Mr. Martinez feel more defensive. “I’m not disagreeing with any of you. But I’m not a policeman, and the school is not the Supreme Court. Savannah, you’re going to have to take this up with your parents. They’ll decide what to do.”

Savannah was silent as the class boarded their bus for the drive back to Cedarville. Her eyes never left the scratched window and, beyond that, the paddleboat, where she knew Cleopatra was being held captive.

Griffin watched her, a gnawing feeling deep in his stomach. Mr. Nastase said no, so it was no. Mr. Martinez said no, so it was no. Didn’t Savannah have rights?

Beside him, Ben let out a tremulous yawn.

Did any kid?

6

T
he SmartPick™ Rollo-Bushel threaded its way through the obstacle course of orange cones that its inventor had set up in the garage.

Mr. Bing came to a halt and hopped off, looking pleased with himself. “You see? The platform swivels so it’s more maneuverable in the tight space of an orchard.”

Griffin sat on one of the other prototypes that were lined up against the back wall. “Awesome, Dad,” he said listlessly.

His father’s brow clouded. “So why doesn’t Daria Vader see that? She’s dragging her feet on submitting the paperwork. She thinks the Rollo-Bushel needs to be more unique to get approved by the patent office.”

Griffin didn’t look up. “Great … great …”

Mr. Bing frowned. “Guess I’m not the only one with problems.” He perched on the workbench beside his son. “All right, out with it.”

“Oh, nothing,” Griffin mumbled. “I was just, you know, thinking.”

Mr. Bing nodded. “I talked to Mr. Slovak last night —” Griffin looked up in surprise. “Yeah, I have a life, too. I don’t spend all my time in here with my nose buried in electric motors. You’re worried about Ben going away to boarding school, right?”

“It’s not fair, Dad. Nobody asked him if he wants to go to some academy in New Jersey.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “Did it ever occur to you that Ben
needs
that academy?”

“He
doesn’t
need it!” Griffin insisted hotly. “He’s doing fine. He takes a fifteen-minute nap at school every day, and he’s as awake as anybody. None of the kids even know about it. They think he goes to the nurse for allergy meds.”

Mr. Bing nodded. “You’re right. Ben’s not doing too badly — now. But no one stays eleven forever. What if he can’t drive a car because he might fall asleep at the wheel? What if the condition gets worse? Ben is going to have a completely normal life with no
limits, but it might take some doing. He can’t pass up the chance to work with the very top people in that field.”

Griffin was too unhappy to be logical. Dad could talk from today until tomorrow and make it seem like the most sensible thing in the world, but there was only one reason why Ben was going to this dumb sleep school: because he didn’t have the power to say no. He was a kid in an adult world, and that was a powerless thing to be.

There was a tapping at the metal door, and Mrs. Bing poked her head into the garage. “Griffin, your friend Savannah is waiting for you in the den.”

“Thanks.” He followed his mother into the house. It was the day of the big meeting. The Drysdales had gone to see their lawyer in New York City to talk about Cleopatra and how to get the monkey back. They had been unable to identify “Eleanor” as Savannah’s missing pet during their own visit to the floating zoo. But they had complete faith in their daughter’s knowledge of animals. Everybody did.

Savannah sat on the couch watching
Shark Week
, an expression of deep distaste on her delicate features. “It never ceases to amaze
me what people will do to make money off animals,” she complained. “They’re acting like sharks are
dangerous
just to get high ratings for their TV show.”

“Never mind that,” said Griffin. “How did it go with the lawyer?”

Her face crumpled, and for the first time he noticed the circles around her eyes. “I think Cleo’s going to have to live on that awful boat.”

Griffin was horrified. “The lawyer said that?”

She nodded miserably. “He said a bill of sale is legally binding unless I can prove that Cleo is mine.”

“So prove it, then!” Griffin insisted. “Call that friend of yours — the animal scientist!”

“Dr. Kathleen Alford. She’s Curator of the Long Island Zoo.”

“Surely she knows how to identify a stolen monkey!”

Savannah shook her head sadly. “I tried that. Dr. Alford said the only way to prove that Eleanor is really Cleopatra is through DNA. I’d have to go through her blanket and find a few of her hairs. Then I’d have to send them away to a lab. It takes weeks and costs thousands of dollars. Even then,
we’ve still got nothing unless we can match it to a DNA sample from the real Cleopatra — like Mr. Nasty’s going to give us permission for that. We’d have to get a court order. Even if we won, it would take over a year. Cleo is a gentle, sensitive creature who thrives on companionship and love. Who knows if she could even survive that kind of mistreatment for so long?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You’ve got to help me, Griffin! I don’t know what’s left to try!”

Griffin stared in genuine alarm. This was Savannah, tamer of Luthor. Where animals were concerned, she was the toughest kid in town. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her cry before.

“What can I do?” he said honestly. “What do I know about monkeys that you don’t?”

“But you’re the guy who gets things done! The Man With The Plan!”

The more Griffin thought about it, the more it drove him crazy. This should have been a no-brainer. Cleopatra was missing, and Cleopatra had been found. Happy reunion, right? Wrong. Standing in the way of justice: a procession of adults — Mr. Nasty, Klaus, Mr. Martinez, lab people, lawyers, even
Savannah’s own parents, telling her it couldn’t be done.

It was the Ben thing all over again — kids’ lives being jerked around by the adult world.

Savannah grabbed his arm, hanging on like a drowning sailor. “I wouldn’t ask if it was just for me, Griffin. We need a plan to save Cleopatra!”

“But — she’s just —”

“Just a monkey?” Savannah finished angrily.

Griffin shut his mouth and sealed it. That was exactly what he’d been about to say. And saying it to Savannah was a good way to be fed to Luthor.

Savannah’s face flamed red. “So it’s okay for her to be kidnapped and held against her will? Why, if Cleo was a person, the police would send the SWAT team to storm the zoo boat and rescue her!”

“Too bad there’s no SWAT team for animals,” Griffin put in lamely.

Savannah was resentful. “Well, there should be.”

And suddenly, as it was with all truly great plans, Operation Zoobreak appeared, fully formed, in Griffin’s imagination.

7


W
hat’s a zoobreak?” Ben asked in bewilderment.

“Shhh!” Griffin looked around. The two were in the middle of the parade of Cedarville kids heading to school the next morning, but nobody appeared to be eavesdropping. “I came up with it, but it was based on something Savannah said. Think prison break, only with animals.”

Ben stared at him. “You mean busting the monkey out of the zoo boat? You’re not serious! No, I take that back. You’re
always
serious.”

“I’m no animal nut like Savannah,” Griffin said evenly, “but how can we leave Cleopatra there? She’ll end up skinny and moth-eaten
like every other animal on that garbage barge! Besides, Savannah’s our friend.”

Ben was adamant. “Yeah, I feel bad for her, too. But this — is it even possible?”

“Everything
is possible,” Griffin lectured, “if you’ve got the right plan.”

“Come on, Griffin, we’re just kids —” No sooner had the words passed Ben’s lips than he wished he could cram them back down his throat. This was the last argument that would ever work on his best friend.

Griffin drew himself up to his full height, towering over Ben. “I know a bunch of kids who were swindled out of a million-dollar baseball card. And you know what those ‘just kids’ did? They put together a plan and took back what was rightfully theirs! We did that on our own, and we can do it for Cleopatra. It’s the same thing.”

“It’s
not
the same thing!” Ben argued. “The Babe Ruth card was right here in Cedarville! The Rutherford Point Preserve is miles away. Not to mention that we could have gone to jail for that Babe Ruth card and almost got killed about fifteen different ways.”

“I never said it wasn’t going to be hard,” Griffin reasoned.

Ben looked miserable. “You know I have problems. If I get caught boosting a monkey, that’s just one more reason for my parents to think I’d be better off at boarding school. I can’t get mixed up in anything like this.”

Griffin grew solemn. “That’s exactly why you
have
to get mixed up in this. Don’t you see? It could be the very last chance for the two of us to work on a plan together.”

Ben shook his head. “You don’t fight fair!”

Griffin jumped on this. “So you’re in?”

At last, Ben nodded reluctantly. “But we’re going to need a lot of help. There’s no way you, me, and Savannah can do it on our own.”

Griffin smiled. “It’s time to get the team back together.”

8

OPERATION ZOOBREAK

THE TEAM:

ANTONIA “PITCH” BENSON

Specialty — climbing

Objective — scale 25-foot fence

G
riffin and Ben motioned Pitch down from her usual spot at the summit of the climbing apparatus in the gym.

“I’ll have to take another look around the preserve,” she told them after hearing the
plan. “I can probably get myself over. The rest of you might be a problem.”

Griffin nodded. “We’re working on finding someone to take us back to the preserve on the weekend. We’ll need to do more scouting before we can finalize the plan.”

Pitch grinned. “My dad is bored stiff because he’s off climbing till the swelling goes down. I’ll bet I can talk him into driving us.”

MELISSA DUKAKIS

Specialty — computers and high tech

Objective — electronic surveillance of
All Aboard Animals

The lights flickered in the computer lab as Melissa downloaded the new software she had designed at home. She agitated her head, parting her stringy hair to reveal eyes wide with wonder. “And you want
me
to help?”

“Nobody knows more about technology,” Griffin told her. “At least, not around here. How can we spy on the zoo boat?”

Melissa stared into the distance for what seemed like a long time. Finally, she said a single word: “webcams.”

Griffin jumped on this. “You mean we plant them around Rutherford Point?”

“How would we plug them in?” asked Ben.

“They make wireless ones with built-in transmitters,” Melissa explained. “The batteries last a week. Can we act fast?”

“We have to,” Griffin informed her.
“All Aboard Animals
sets sail for their next location on April tenth. The clock is already ticking.”

LOGAN KELLERMAN

Specialty — acting

Objective — Klaus control

“Control
that
guy?” Logan was so shocked that he stepped out of the spotlight, something that almost never happened. “I’m an actor, not a sumo wrestler!”

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