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Authors: F. T. Bradley

BOOK: The Alias Men
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39

SATURDAY, NO IDEA WHAT TIME

“LINC . . .” I HEARD SOMEONE CALLING
my name through a tunnel. Or at least it sounded that way, because my ear was buzzing. “Linc!” There was a tap on my cheek. And another.

I opened my eyes to look right into Kate's.

She smiled and said, “Good, you're back.”

Then I remembered: She was Ethan Melais. I had to bust her and find the Dangerous Double!

I tried to get up, only to realize I was cuffed to a kitchen chair. Ironically, Kate had used Henry's Instacuff.

“Stay awhile,” Kate said. “At least until I figure out what to do with you.” Considering this woman had tried to kill me three times already, I wasn't feeling so optimistic about my chances of survival this time around.

“I brought backup, you know,” I lied. “CIA agents will be busting through that door any second now.”

“No, they won't.” Kate pulled up a chair and sat across from me.

We were in the middle of the kitchen. Behind her were the sink and the dish rack, full of plates and knives. All I had to do was get a knife and I could get out.

“So you've been Ethan Melais all this time,” I said, ignoring the pounding headache I had from her hitting me with the frying pan.

Kate nodded, looking very proud of herself. “It started as a joke, if you can believe it. Nigel and I had just finished shooting a movie in Greece—he hated it, of course, just like all the films he makes. So over dinner one night, I jokingly suggested he put the movie out under a fake name. Directors do it all the time.”

“Alan Something,” I said, remembering my conversation with Savannah.

“Alan Smithee.” Kate nodded. “But that was too obvious. Did you know ‘Alan Smithee' is really an anagram for ‘the Alias Men'?”

I closed my eyes, feeling like the biggest fool ever. Grandpa had figured this out long before—why hadn't I listened to him? “And Ethan Melais is, too.”

Kate laughed. I would like to say it was an evil laugh, but she sounded like a regular, nice person. “The next day, I had some business cards printed, and I came up with a disguise. As a joke.” Her smile faded. “I was sitting in the hotel lobby, waiting for Nigel, who was late as usual, when I saw several men go into this meeting room. Since we had booked most of the hotel, I thought they were with the production company. So I decided to take my prank a little further, and I went inside the meeting.”

I eyed the back door to the right of me, but no one was going to come and save me. And the cuffs were way too good. Thanks a lot, Henry. I had to keep Kate talking, to buy myself time to come up with a plan. “You stole a secret.”

She nodded. “It was a sales meeting, unbelievably boring—but they were selling some high-tech computer chips. They thought I was a buyer, so I left the Ethan Melais business card. I sold the information to the company's competitors and used the money to help Nigel fund his next film. It kept me employed and him making movies.”

“Everyone thought you were real—that Ethan Melais was a real guy.”

Kate nodded. “To throw people off the trail, I started spreading rumors that Ethan Melais was French-Canadian, that he traveled the world and was a master of disguise.” She smiled. “I had a blast creating this character. I figured it was only a matter of time before someone figured out he wasn't real, and made the connection to the ‘Alan Smithee' or ‘the Alias Men' anagram, but . . .”

“No one did.”

“Until you, right now.”

“Actually, my grandpa figured it out.”

She leaned forward and got closer. Her eyes were hard—why hadn't I seen that before? “Those artifacts Pandora holds—I can't wait to get my hands on them.”

“How did you know Savannah had the hat?” I asked, tugging at the Instacuff.

Kate smiled. “I did her makeup tonight and saw the costume. I was never going to kill her, you know.”

“You were just accidentally shooting at her, right.” I swallowed. “I could lie and pretend I won't tell anyone that you're Ethan Melais.”

She let out a deep sigh. “But you wouldn't insult my intelligence.”

“Now what are you going to do with me?” I might as well ask, since there was no way I could break free. Henry's Instacuff was too tight around my wrists.

Kate stood. “I never wanted you dead, Linc.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. You tried to kill me three times!”

“That's because I thought you had the Chaplin hat.” Kate gave me a hard stare. “First I set off the runaway car—that didn't do the trick. You outsmarted me when I directed our chief cameraman, John, to put you in the current—or your brother, Ben, rather. Then you survived the Ferris wheel explosion . . .” She shook her head. “You're a tough kid to kill.”

“I try.” I pulled at the cuffs, but it was no use.

“And I shouldn't have bothered, because Savannah had the hat all along.” Kate went down the hall, and came back with a bowler hat. That was the Dangerous Double! I was so close it was actually painful. Or maybe that was the bump from Kate hitting me on the head.

Kate smiled and turned on the gas stove. “I'm really sorry to have to do this to someone as smart as you. But I need to keep my identity a secret. I need for the authorities to be looking for Ethan Melais like he's a real person. And I need for them to think he's a man, not a woman.”

I could already smell the gas.

“I'll light one of those dry bushes outside on fire, then all I need is for the gas to build up and . . .
boom
.” She lifted the hat, and carefully placed it on her head. “Wish me luck,” she said, and tilted it.

Kate disappeared.

I watched the kitchen door open. And close again.

Leaving me there alone. Tied up.

To die.

40

SATURDAY, 9:05 P.M.

YOU KNOW DURING A TEST, WHEN IT'S
so quiet you want to yell something random just to break the silence? It was even quieter than that in this kitchen. All I could hear were Kate's footsteps, then a car starting and driving away.

Then nothing. There was only the hissing noise of the stove, which wasn't exactly comforting.

I imagined one of the bushes on fire, right outside.

My mind was racing. I had to get out of this Instacuff! I needed magnets.

On the fridge! There were about half a dozen of them, up high. If I could get two of them, I could probably undo the cuff. I was stuck to the chair, but I could walk over. Sort of.

The stove was still hissing. And the place was beginning to smell like a bad fart. I had to hurry.

I reached the fridge and turned around so my back was against it. But the magnets were up too high to reach with my hands.

So I faced the fridge again. And inched one of the magnets down with my chin. But it fell to the floor.

I cursed under my breath. The gas kept hissing—and it was stressing me out big time. Plus the smell was making me sick to my stomach.

Magnet two inched down, and so did magnet number three—I turned to grab them with my hands. All I needed was to put them together and I'd be out of these cuffs.

But then I heard the footsteps on the path. Kate! She was coming back. Maybe she anticipated I'd be making a run for it.

With the magnets clutched in my palm, I backed away from the fridge, but then I realized I didn't care if she knew I was breaking free.

I was going to jump Kate when she walked in. With the chair still stuck to my back, I rushed to the door. Waited for it to open, ready to take down evil Kate.

The door opened.

And I bumped right into Savannah.

“Linc?” She looked over my shoulder. “What happened—who tied you up?”

“Kate did!” I pushed her out the door. “But we have to get out of here, now!”

Behind her, Ben was ready to go inside. “Baker? I should've known you'd start a fire.”

“Out, now!” I yelled.

Thankfully, Ben and Savannah didn't question me—they followed me right up the hill, back toward the mansion. It's hard to hurry when you have a kitchen chair strapped to your back, let me tell you. When we reached the pool, Ben helped me undo the Instacuffs.

We both turned around to look at the house down the hill.

“I guess I could have turned off the stove,” I said, more to myself than to Savannah and Ben.

“What?” I saw Ben mouth. But I couldn't hear him, because there was a giant explosion down the hill.

The house we'd left just minutes ago was now a ball of flames.

41

SATURDAY, 9:25 P.M.

WHILE WE WATCHED THE FIREFIGHTERS
battle the blaze, Ben told me how Savannah came looking for me at the Hollywood Bowl. And how Ben had asked her for a ride to Floyd's house, because like me, he thought Floyd was Ethan Melais. Because Ben had had to debrief Stark and Black, he and Savannah were twenty minutes behind me. They'd gotten here just as the man himself got home with his assistant, Larry. But Floyd had an airtight alibi.

“I've been dealing with the repo men the rest of the afternoon and this evening,” Floyd said. He sat down on one of the fancy pool chairs and kicked off his orange sneakers with a sigh. “It's all gone. The furniture, the house here, and the one downhill.” Floyd pointed at the flames. “Well, that house is quite literally gone.”

I asked Floyd, “So you didn't know Kate created a character, an international thief named Ethan Melais?”

Floyd gave me a confused look. “Does this have something to do with the car crash?”

I nodded.

“And the business with your brother almost drowning? Plus the Ferris wheel mess—Kate was causing all this?” Floyd looked shocked. There was no posing left in the guy, which was kind of nice. “I've been so distracted by the financial trouble. And before that, it was one film production after another. I only worried about the artistic side—the film, my vision. I was just happy when we got cash infusions when we needed them. Didn't ask where they came from.”

I told them about Ethan Melais, the thefts, the money, and how Kate had used this character to go undetected for so long.

“Of course.” Ben groaned. “We were looking for a man all this time.”

“Kate.” Larry sighed. “I thought something was off: the secrecy, the disappearances. I tried to find out more, but she was always one step ahead of me.”

“Like a ghost,” I said.

Larry nodded. “I followed her to your bedroom, Nigel. But then when I snuck inside, she wasn't there—just Linc here.”

“That was you at the party, with the flashlight!” I said. At least I got that right.

Larry nodded. “But I couldn't report you for snooping without explaining why I was there.”

“Who cares about all that?” Ben said. “Our suspect has just escaped! You blew the case,” he said, pointing at me.

“How was I supposed to know Ethan Melais wasn't real, and that our bad dude is really a lady?” I wanted to get in his face, but my head hurt too much.

I called Mom and told her I would be on my way home soon. I lied and told her the performance was amazing. The family was so busy with the car overhaul and the reunion, I knew only Grandpa would be watching the news.

Ben got a phone call. Stark and Black had heard about the fire and were here. Savannah disappeared to tell her driver she was okay. While Ben briefed Albert Black, I met Stark inside the mansion.

“I'm glad you're okay, Linc,” Stark said. “Although I wish you would listen when we say you're off the case.”

“But Kate is on the loose with the Dangerous Double. Now what?” I asked, tightening the straps on my backpack.

Stark looked at me. “You've done an amazing job.” Her voice echoed off the marble floors and the high ceilings. “Even though we only recruited you to be Ben's stand-in, you've done just fine as a junior secret agent.”

Hearing Stark say this nice stuff about me made the whole almost-dying part not so bad. I only wished my parents were around to hear it. “You didn't answer my question.”

“Honestly, Linc, there's no way to catch Ethan Melais—or Kate—in Los Angeles anymore.”

I felt sick to my stomach. “So you're just going to let her steal that drone-system prototype and sell it to those evil terrorists?”

“We'll do our best in Las Vegas, since we know she'll be there.” Stark touched my shoulder. “But until Monday morning's drone-weapon-prototype reveal, there's nothing we can do. Kate's invisible—she could be anywhere. We'll have to hope we can catch her there, using a Double Detector. But it's going to be tough.”

I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry. I know I sound like a baby, but this was my family on the line.

“It's time for you to go back to your normal life.” Stark stepped back. “You're off the case, Linc. For real this time.”

42

SATURDAY, 10:30 P.M.

OF COURSE, GRANDPA DIDN'T LIKE THIS
turn of events at all. After a cab got me back to my aunt and uncle's place, I checked in with Mom before heading upstairs.

Grandpa was waiting for me in our room, sitting in the wicker chair with his crossword puzzle. “No more mysteries to solve?” He slumped a little. “I was just getting warmed up over here.”

“Sorry, Grandpa.” I took off my backpack and sat down on the foldaway bed. “But this secret agent business should really be left to the professionals.”

“Nonsense! You're as good an agent as any of those other guys.” Grandpa wagged his finger at me. “You're better. You have heart, guts.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.” Truth was, I felt a little lost now that I was off the case. My family's lives were at stake. I felt like I should do something to catch Kate.

“So that's it?”

I pointed to the TV. “You and me, we're better off watching some crime shows.” Well, at least Grandpa was.

I told him about the day, and how he'd figured out that “Ethan Melais” was an anagram of “the Alias Men” before anyone else.

“Tell me that part again,” Grandpa said, so I did. The guy deserved the credit for cracking the case, even if I'd been too preoccupied to listen.

After I told the story for a third time, Grandpa got ready for bed, and I snuck down to the kitchen for some food. I'm pretty sure that almost dying makes you extra hungry.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, and from the window I could see the adults outside, talking, laughing, and having a good time. As I ate some crackers and cheese, I thought about Pandora. I would probably never see them again. And I didn't even get to say good-bye to my friend Henry.

Dad walked into the kitchen from the garage. “Hey, buddy.” He looked tired as he sat down across from me and wrinkled his nose. “Did you sit too close to the campfire out there, Linc? You smell like smoke.” Dad didn't realize I'd been gone.

“Sorry,” I said. “Have you been in the garage all night?”

Dad rubbed his head. He groaned. “Rebuilding that Town Car. It's like trying to get your grandpa to behave.”

“Impossible.” I slid my plate toward Dad to share, but he shook his head. “You need some help with the car?” I asked.

Dad looked at me and smiled. “That'd be nice. I missed you these past few days.”

“Me too.” My head was so full with the case, Pandora, and what was at stake. I could use a distraction.

I followed Dad to the garage. The Cadillac Town Car looked perfect on the outside: gleaming black paint, with shiny chrome, and dark-red panels on the sides. The engine was a different story. There were parts everywhere on the garage floor, but it wasn't as bad as I'd seen it before. “So what's first?”

Dad showed me the engine, the water pump, and the battery. It was a mess, but I'd helped him rebuild engines before. And it felt good to work together like always. By the time we were done and I looked up, it was almost two in the morning. “Whoa,” I said.

Dad said, “We should probably wait until daylight to start her up.”

“Yeah.” I realized how quiet it was.

Dad smiled. “You know, let's break the rules for once.” He opened the garage. “Start her up. Who cares if we wake everyone?”

When he tossed me the keys, I knew what to do. I got in and waited for Dad to stand over the engine, with the hood still up.

“Let's do it, Linc.”

I turned the key in the ignition. There was a sputter, a bang. But then there was that familiar hum of the engine. “You did it!” I yelled to Dad.

He shushed me but smiled big. “We did it.”

Of course, it took only thirty seconds for the whole Baker clan to crowd the garage in their pajamas. Uncle Tim high-fived Dad, and Aunt Jenny gave Dad their signature head rub.

It felt good to stand there in the garage with my family, watching the exhaust fumes blow away in the wind. But the Pandora case still nagged me, like a pizza-party stomachache.

“It's good to see you help your dad,” Mom said, giving me a quick hug. “So no more movie business?”

“I'm done.”

“You're not invited to the Academy Awards?”

I was about to remind Mom that it was the same time as the Baker barbecue, when I felt a sudden jolt of brilliance.

Kate! She was going to the Academy Awards—she had to.

“Linc?” Mom asked. “Are you okay?”

“Couldn't be better.” I was going to catch Ethan Melais after all.

All I needed was a plan.

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