In that moment there were a lot of fears that came to mind: What if there was some backup security measures that we hadn't neutralized and we were about to be gassed, crushed, drowned, electrocuted, pinned, or trapped?
What if the Circle had tracked me into the depths of our school and, knowing that I was locked away from my mother and our guards, had found a way inside?
What if it was my mother, and we were caught . . . busted?
But despite my crazy fears, there was one thing I knew for certain: someone else was trying to get into Sublevel Two.
"You can do it, Lizzie," Bex shouted up. "Just . . . hurry. And maybe move a little to the
-"
Bex pulled the rope to the right, but either she underestimated her own strength or overestimated Liz's weight, because next I saw a blond blur swing past the shelves and stop to hover somewhere over the section dedicated to the Cuban Missile Crisis.
The mechanic whirring had grown louder, and now we could tell it was coming from somewhere in front of us.
"Are those . . ." Macey started.
"The elevator shafts?" Bex guessed.
"I think so," I said. "Do you think it's -"
"Townsend," we all said in unison.
"But how is he planning on getting around the security measures down here?" Macey asked.
I shrugged. "Either he knows we've already done it for him . . ."
"Or he doesn't care," Bex said, staring at me, and I couldn't tell from the look in her eyes that neither of us knew what was scarier.
A small pile of dust had started to appear on the floor, and I noticed the small hole that was appearing in the stone wall. Agent Townsend was drilling his way out of the shaft and into Sublevel Two.
I spoke over the sound of the drill and the panic of my pounding heart. "We gotta go!"
The operatives realized they were about to have a very hostile encounter with a very angry teacher-slash-possible-enemy-agent, so they utilized a number of highly recommended covert tactics.
1.Operative McHenry said, "Are you ready yet? Are you ready yet? Are you ready yet?"
in rapid succession until Operative Sutton was, in fact, ready.
2.Operative Morgan pushed a shelf in front of the wall the enemy operative was trying to drill through, forming a temporary barricade.
3.Operative Baxter took that opportunity to say some very choice words about the Gallagher Academy's new Covert Operativtions instructor.
"Got it!" Liz said, and in the next second she was sailing through the air, falling, Macey and I caught her and guided her to the ground, but we barely had a second to unhook her -
not a moment to retrieve any of our gear - before Bex grabbed my and whispered, "Run!"
And then we were off, dodging through the shelves as quickly as we possibly could.
Glancing back, I could see the beam of a flashlight playing over the shelves at the end of the massive room. We were well away from the beam's reach, but we were anything but safe.
The cable still dangled from the ventilation shaft in front of us. I watched Macey grip hold of it, latch on to one of the clamps that had brought us down, and shift the device into reverse. A spilt second later, she was rising through the air, hurtling into the shaft, toward the night sky and freedom.
But in Sublevel Tow there were footsteps behind us and coming closer.
He's never been here before, I told myself as I listened to the man make his way slowly through the maze of shelves.
Bex was standing at the base of the cable, hurriedly securing Liz to the device, while I stayed frozen, watching the play of the flashlight between the shelves. It was eerie and beautiful at the same time. A hundred years' worth of covert items lay inside that massive space - blue prints and plans, secrets so explosive the best spies in the world were willing to risk everything to make sure they never saw the light of day.
But right then, there was only one top secret artifact that mattered to me. It was my turn, so I reached for the cable and felt myself faster and faster toward the fresh air of the night.
Chapter Thirty-One
It was a nearly starless sky. Black clouds hung heavy overhead, blocking out the moon.
But after the darkness of the tiny hole, I had to squint my eyes. It was like staring at the sun.
"And just when we thought we weren't going to get to do any CoveOps training exercises this semester," I said I Bex as she yanked me out the hole by my arms; but my roommates weren't smiling.
"What?" I asked. My friends just looked at me. "What?" I asked again, but I never got to hear the answer, because in the next moment the air around us was drowned in light.
Sirens were ringing, piercing the air, screaming that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
The front doors of the mansion were a hundred yards away, but I knew they were our best chance at safety, and Bex and Liz were already running. Macey and I hurried to catch up.
Guards ran from the main mansion to the fences, checking the perimeter, barely able to restrain barking dogs on the ends of long leashes.
Searchlights flashed across the sky. From a distance, it might have looked like a party.
People in Roseville probably had a dozen crazy theories about what was going on at the school right then, but none of them, I knew, would remotely resemble the truth.
The instant my roommates and I pushed breathlessly through the front doors, I heard Professor Buckingham call my name from the top of the stairs.
"Cameron Morgan! Has anyone seen Cameron -"
"There she is!" an eighth grade yelled, and in the next second I was trapped in a crush of bodies. Mr. Smith reached me first. A man from the security department grabbed me from the other side.