‘At least we know it’s not you, eh, Pepper.’ Carlos grinned at the lad, who smiled back and raised his eyebrows. Carlos’s smile melted. ‘Oh heck, maybe it is. You’d be sort of least likely so that would throw everyone off the scent.’

  Curtis raised his arms and held out his palms. ‘I’m as surprised as the rest of you about that news. Though it stands to reason when you’re training to be a spy, suspicion becomes a way of life – I just can’t imagine anyone here being a saboteur. They’re all so nice.’

  ‘Not all the time,’ Carlos replied.

  ‘Yeah, a snapping rope and a fall into the mud is one thing, but I’m a little more concerned about what this double agent has in mind for the racetrack. Hopefully there won’t be any fiery endings like the first time Kensy and I got acquainted with Esmerelda. We could have been killed,’ Max said.

  Curtis swallowed hard. ‘That won’t happen. Mrs Vanden Boom said there were limits. They’ll probably just put water in the fuel tanks or something like that.’

  But the very idea of foul play put a dampener on the boys’ enthusiasm for tomorrow’s driving challenge.

  ‘We’ll just have to do a thorough check of the cars before we hit the track,’ Carlos said.

  The boys quickly changed into their pyjamas, brushed their teeth and hopped into their beds – rows of bunks around the perimeter of the large room.

  ‘Goodnight, all,’ Max said as he snuggled under the covers.

  His words were echoed by the other boys until finally the room was silent before Alfie made an announcement. ‘Sorry, lads.’

  The others were wondering what he was apologising for when a sound – as if the sheets were tearing apart – ripped through the room, followed by a pungent odour that had all of the boys diving under their duvets.

  ‘Oh gross!’ Dante chided. ‘That’s feral.’

  ‘You’re a beast, Alfie!’ Sachin said then started to laugh.

  By now the boys were all cackling loudly and gasping for breath. The door opened and Gordon Nutting entered the room. ‘Oh dear lord.’ The man covered his nose and gagged. ‘I suggest whoever was responsible for that vile smell cut down on the baked beans for breakfast.’

  ‘It was me, sir,’ Alfie confessed proudly.

  The man shook his head and switched off the light. ‘Night, boys. And good luck surviving Alfie and his poisonous gases.’

  On the other side of the common room the girls were already in bed by the time Romilly went to check on them. The woman bade them goodnight and pulled the door closed.

  ‘So a double agent, hey,’ Yasmina said.

  Kensy leaned up on one elbow. ‘It could be you.’

  Yasmina was on the top bunk opposite her, but it was too dark to get a read on any facial expressions.

  ‘It could be anyone,’ Yasmina replied. ‘But I guess that’s the whole point. We never know when one of our own might be out to get us – and that’s probably the most difficult part about being an agent.’

  Kensy lay down, thinking about what her friend had said. She and Max knew all too well that there could be someone in the organisation out to get them. Following a string of attempts, first on the twins then the broader family – via explosions, kidnappings and the like – they were under no illusion that there was a potential killer in their midst. Perhaps this exercise would help them learn some tactics to flush out the assassin or, at the very least, arm them with the right skills to uncover who was trying to kill the Spencer family and why.

  The convoy of open-topped Land Rovers pulled up in the pit lane of Alexandria’s racetrack. Apart from only having a small grandstand, the facility rivalled that of professional tracks like Silverstone or Monza. The whole thing was cleverly disguised by a giant hologram, so that anyone flying overhead thought they were looking at sheep and fields below – this wasn’t the sort of place Pharos wanted the general public to know about. The children spilled out of the cars, keen to see what they would be racing. But the long row of garage doors, behind which was essentially one huge workshop, were shut and there were no vehicles anywhere apart from the ones they had just arrived in – not even Esmerelda, the self-driving car who was responsible for teaching all of the trainee agents to drive. After Kensy and Max’s horror crash she’d been completely rebuilt with a sleek new Maserati body, that was nothing like the old Ford Fiesta she used to inhabit.

  ‘So what are we racing?’ Carlos asked what everyone else was thinking.

  Romilly grinned at the lad, giving nothing away. She walked to the winners’ podium, which consisted of three conjoined plinths of differing heights – the tallest in the centre, the second tallest to the right and the lowest on the left. Romilly climbed onto the third-place level, high enough to stand above her charges. Mr Nutting was hovering about on the other side when suddenly he jumped up onto the first-place position and raised his arms in the air, then clenched his fists together as if he’d just won a race. The children clapped and cheered and the man took a bow, at least until he spotted his colleague’s face and sheepishly stepped back down to the ground.

  ‘Come on, Rom. Lighten up,’ he said and gave her a grin.

  The woman rolled her eyes but at least she smiled.

  ‘Good morning, everyone, and welcome to day two of the Pharos Trainee Spy Games. Although it seems Mr Nutting is already a winner.’

  The children clapped and cheered again, but didn’t take too long to regain their composure.

  ‘As you are now all aware, there is a rat among the ranks, so to speak, and one of you is not like the others. I don’t wish to hear any speculation – you know the rules, but you will need to be especially observant. Today’s challenge will be unlike any you’ve experienced,’ Romilly said.

  There was a whirl of whispers around the group, everyone eager to know what they had to do. Max looked to his left then to the right, trying to decide if anyone was behaving differently to usual. Kensy was doing much the same, desperate to work out who the saboteur could be.

  ‘I hope you all paid attention in class recently,’ the woman said, as the row of garage doors opened simultaneously and the challenge became apparent.

  In front of them were the stripped-down chassis of motor scooters – the same as the Vespa they’d been pulling apart and putting back together at school for the past several weeks.

  Kensy clenched her fists. ‘Yes!’ She grinned. This challenge was right up her alley.

  Alfie’s shoulders slumped. ‘Okay, Kensy, how much will it cost for you to build mine as well as yours?’ he said, and was only half joking.

  The girl’s penchant for gadgets and mechanics had become somewhat legendary since she’d shared her insect drone inventions with her classmates.

  ‘Stop being such a wuss, Dingle,’ Romilly said. ‘You can do it. Anyway, the machines are identical – they all have the same parts. Select one at random. Once you have put your vehicle together, you will hit the button on the plinth beside your motor. That will determine the winner of the first section of this challenge. When everyone is done, we’re off to the racetrack.’

  Inez raised her hand and Romilly pointed at the girl. ‘Will you be checking our bikes to make sure that they’re safe?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘No. You are entirely responsible for your own vehicle – so take care and don’t rush.’

  There was a collective gulp from most of the students. Messing this up could get, well, messy.

  Gordon Nutting held a starter’s pistol in the air. ‘To your disassembled chariots!’ he chuckled then fired the gun and the children raced into the building.

  ‘Come on.’ Kensy grabbed Autumn’s arm and the pair sped through the nearest entrance. ‘We want to be next to each other so we can share tools.’

  ‘Really?’ Autumn said, raising her eyebrow, catching Kensy off guard.

  ‘I thought so,’ Kensy replied, suddenly unsure if that was a warning or Autumn being suspicious of her.

  ‘I’m just kidding.’ Autumn grinned.

  The girl stood guard over their parts while Kensy raced to grab spanners and screwdrivers from the huge tool kit in the centre of the rear wall. At least four metres long, the professional set comprised dozens of drawers with everything a mechanic’s workshop would require. She rushed back to Autumn and handed her a screwdriver.

  The pair began to assemble their respective vehicles – handlebars and steering column first, taking extra care not to cut any of the cables. Kensy knew exactly what she had to do. Autumn was fairly confident, but glanced across at her friend just to make sure that she was on the right track. Next up the rear rack had to be fitted, then the seat and lastly the wheels, which required the body to be raised up on a jack so that the tyres could fit underneath. The engine was mostly put together already but did require some attention to ensure everything was plugged into where it needed to be. Kensy was making swift progress.

  Mrs Vanden Boom and Mr Nutting walked around the garage, watching as the students assembled their steeds, impressed by the children’s skills and ability to remember what went where.

  Kensy was just about to finish screwing the seat to the chassis when she turned and saw Harper kick her bike, sending the whole thing clattering over.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked the girl, whose eyes welled with tears.

  ‘I can’t do it. I don’t remember what comes next.’ Harper clutched her hands to her head. ‘My brain hurts.’

  Kensy was surprised to see her friend like this. Harper was usually so cool and collected. She wondered if this was an intentional distraction and while she didn’t want to be taken for a ride, as far as she could tell she was miles ahead of everyone else and could spare a couple of minutes to have a look.

  ‘What are you having trouble with?’ Kensy asked as she walked over to her friend.

  All of a sudden, in the middle of the garage, there was a loud shout from Alfie. ‘Give that to me!’ The other children stopped and turned to see what was going on.

  ‘I didn’t take it!’ Sachin yelled. ‘It’s mine. You snatched it from me.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Alfie’s face was bright red.

  He pushed Sachin’s bike over and it crashed to the concrete floor. ‘How dare you?’ Sachin yelled and leapt onto Alfie’s back as the boys began to wrestle. Almost everyone was distracted and put their tools down to watch the melee. Alfie threw Sachin over his shoulder then jumped on top of him, pinning the lad to the ground.

  Max’s eyes were wide as he watched the lads fighting, wondering if this was a deliberate diversion, then he spotted Mrs Vanden Boom and Mr Nutting speeding towards them.

  ‘Stop that at once!’ Mrs Vanden Boom roared.

  Gordon Nutting grabbed Alfie’s collar and hauled the boy to his feet while Romilly took Sachin’s arm and pulled him up.

  ‘What on earth were you doing? Behaving like a pair of imbeciles! Right, you lose ten points each from your scores. This behaviour is absolutely appalling. The rest of you get back to your bikes,’ the woman snapped.

  Alfie and Sachin were left fuming. Not only about their loss of points but that they still believed the other was in the wrong.

  ‘Sorry, Mrs Vanden Boom,’ Sachin said, hanging his head.

  ‘Yeah, sorry,’ Alfie mumbled. He eyeballed his foe and when the woman momentarily looked the other way, he mouthed a silent threat.

  Romilly turned to the boys. ‘Well, you might as well get on with it. You can still earn some points if you finish.’

  Sachin had already scurried to the other end of the garage to find a replacement part while Kensy had just completed the final checks on her vehicle. She hit her personal buzzer to stop the clock and the teachers hurried over to inspect her work.

  ‘Well done, Kensy,’ Gordon Nutting said, grinning.

  Seconds later Max’s buzzer went off and he was ready too.

  ‘Nothing like a bit of sibling rivalry,’ the man said. He directed Kensy to wheel her scooter outside where Miss Witherbee and Miss Ziegler were ready to fill the petrol tanks.

  It would be a little while before everyone was finished, but Kensy was happy to wait. She was thinking about the tactics she’d need to employ to make sure that she was first past the chequered flag.

  Surprisingly only twenty minutes had passed by the time the last students, Alfie and Sachin, emerged with their scooters. Mr Nutting walked alongside the pair tsking and tutting to himself.

  Carlos nudged Max. ‘Hope Alfie doesn’t take his frustrations out on the track. He could do us all in.’

  Max glanced across and caught sight of the big fellow.

  Alfie’s rugby prowess was legendary – every team in the competition was terrified of him. Armed with a motor scooter he was potentially lethal. After a short briefing – where Mrs Vanden Boom basically told the children it was a race, go fast and take no prisoners, which in itself was somewhat alarming – they were instructed to don their helmets, gloves and goggles. They were already dressed in full fire-retardant race suits with special boots. The bikes had been lined up at the end of the pit lane and, rather than having time trials to determine poll positions, as soon as Mr Nutting fired the gun the children were to run to their bikes and do five laps of the track.

  To put it bluntly, the start was a free-for-all.

  In a surprise move Curtis Pepper was the first to get to his machine. He pressed the button to fire the ignition and was quickly away, with Max close behind and Autumn on their tails.

  Kensy pressed the ignition button on her bike but nothing happened. She tried again and again with the same result, watching helplessly as her peers streamed off ahead of her.

  ‘Stupid bike!’ the girl shouted as she jumped off and kicked the front tyre.

  Kensy then took a deep breath and calmed herself as she ran her eyes over the frame and lifted the seat to check the engine, immediately spotting the problem. She was certain she’d put that plug in but here it was, now dangling.

  ‘Aha!’ She fixed it and tried again. This time the bike started first go. She hit the throttle and tore off. Kensy was now some distance from the pack, but there were five laps and at this point anything could happen.

  She entered the chicanes, leaning left and right as she began to gain ground. Up ahead Max was willing his scooter to go faster.

  The track wound its way through a wooded area and up a small hill. Kensy was catching Dante – although something was clearly wrong. She watched in horror as the boy’s bike began to wobble. It was weaving all over the place and Kensy’s mouth gaped open when the lad’s front wheel shot across the track, narrowly missing one of the other riders. Without a tyre, his bike skidded along, leaving a shower of sparks before it finally fell over with a thud.

  Kensy zoomed up to the lad then slowed down. ‘Are you okay?’

  He gave her a thumbs up and got to his feet.

  She revved the engine and took off. When Kensy rounded the next corner she was surprised to see several more of her peers stranded on the sides of the track, either furiously trying to get their bikes restarted or kicking them. Autumn was one, holding her handlebars in the air with a forlorn expression on her face.

  There was still a long way to go. Kensy hit the straight and was gaining ground. She could see Alfie, Yasmina and Max too, but it looked as if Curtis Pepper was still in the lead.

  On the second lap Kensy saw Misha Thornhill shoot off through the grass and whizz along until her bike came to a stop in a huge sand pit – one of the track’s safety measures.

  Lap three and four yielded movement in the placings, with Carlos overtaking Curtis, and Inez right behind the boys. But it was Harper who shocked them all, sneaking past and dashing into the lead. Kensy threaded her way through the field until she finally caught up to her brother. Max looked sideways and spotted her, aghast that she had gained so much ground.

  Up ahead something was wrong. Curtis’s bike had slowed and the boy puttered to a stop at the side of the track.

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ Max shouted as he raced past with Carlos firmly in his sights then it was Inez and Harper. However, no one had counted on Alfie. The burly lad resembled an elephant riding a tricycle, but he was fast and his gear changes were on point. He zipped around Kensy and Max. Everyone was falling by the way, including Inez, who let out a scream as she lost control of the steering and fortunately managed to pull up seconds before impending disaster.

  As the children began their last lap Kensy shouted, ‘Max, your tyre!’

  The lad looked down. He couldn’t see anything wrong at the front, but he could feel something wobbling and that didn’t bode well.

  Max’s stomach lurched as he realised his predicament. He hit the brakes but nothing happened.

  ‘You have to pull over!’ the girl shouted.

  The boy tried to, but quickly discovered the throttle was jammed and, no matter how many times he applied the brakes, he wasn’t slowing down. Someone had got to his bike and all he could think was that this would end in the same sort of fiery disaster they’d experienced with Esmeralda.

  ‘I can’t stop!’ the boy yelled. He felt the sweat trickling down from his temples onto his cheeks.

  By this time Max was doing top speed – just over one hundred kilometres per hour. If his wheel fell off and he crashed, he was done for.

  Kensy couldn’t let that happen. She was beginning to hate this track, despite a deep love of racing. It seemed like the place was out to get her and her brother. She sped up alongside as close as she dared, in case he lost control and swerved into her. When she was next to him, Kensy called out. ‘Jump!’

  Max looked over and shook his head, but the wobble was getting worse. He steadied the steering as best he could and gingerly stood up on the seat.

  Kensy pulled back then saw what he was doing and veered close again.

  ‘Do it!’ she shouted.

  Max let go of the handles and eyed his target then leapt across, landing behind his sister. He bounced backwards, but caught the rack and managed to right himself.