Without anyone steering, the rogue scooter continued its shaky path, spearing into one of the concrete barriers where it disintegrated into a thousand pieces.

  Max held on around his sister’s middle. ‘Whoa,’ the boy gasped, thinking that he could have been among the debris if it wasn’t for Kensy. ‘Thanks,’ he yelled.

  She turned and grinned at him, more grateful than ever that her plan had worked and he’d been able to abandon the malfunctioning bike. She shuddered to think what could have happened otherwise. But Kensy wasn’t about to give up on winning the race either. Up ahead she could see there was only Alfie, Carlos and Harper still in contention.

  ‘We’ve got this!’ Kensy turned and shouted to her brother.

  She revved the engine hard and within a few seconds had caught up to Carlos on the corner, where she zipped inside the lad leaving him in their wake. She tore past Alfie and had Harper squarely in her sights. The next three bends saw the lead change three times until they hit the straight and roared towards Mr Frizzle, who was standing atop the platform that jutted out over the track ready to wave the chequered flag. But something had happened to Harper’s bike and she ground to a halt about one hundred metres from the end.

  Alfie hadn’t thrown in the towel either and surprisingly he’d caught up, hitting the finish line at the exact same moment as Kensy. The electronic scoreboard recorded their identical times.

  Kensy slammed on the brakes – perhaps a little too hard as her brother clawed her shoulder to stop himself flying over the handlebars. Alfie slowed down too and turned around at the end of the straight, zipping back towards his friends.

  ‘Well, that was awesome.’ The boy grinned from ear to ear.

  ‘That was a mess,’ Max said as he hopped off the bike and removed his helmet. ‘Total carnage out there. I just hope no one was hurt.’

  Miss Ziegler and Miss Witherbee had taken to the track in the Land Rovers to pick up the children who were dotted around the course.

  While Kensy, Max and Alfie were celebrating their win the others arrived back, some a bit battered and bruised, but thankfully there were no serious injuries. The bikes didn’t get off as lightly though with a number damaged beyond repair.

  ‘What a debacle.’ Carlos was shaking his head as he approached Max. ‘How did you go?’

  ‘Caught a lift with Kensy,’ the boy said, grinning. ‘It was lucky she was there or I think I’d be in hospital now – or the morgue. Everything failed, right at the same time.’

  ‘I thought the saboteur wasn’t allowed to do anything too dangerous,’ Carlos said.

  ‘Me too,’ Max agreed. He’d been thinking about his predicament and wondering if there wasn’t more to it than the sanctioned saboteur – given everything that had happened to him and his sister and their family over recent months.

  ‘At least we know it’s not us,’ Carlos said to his friend. ‘But I have an idea who I’d be putting my money on.’ He glanced towards Alfie and Kensy, who were both talking to Mrs Vanden Boom.

  Max didn’t reply. They weren’t supposed to discuss the potential traitor and he wasn’t about to risk losing any points if they were caught doing so. But Carlos’s comment threw him. Could it really be Kensy? Sure, maybe Alfie, but when would he have had time to get around and interfere with everyone’s bikes.

  ‘Mrs VB said that you’re going to get the same points as me and Alfie,’ Kensy said, bringing her brother back to the moment.

  ‘What? But I didn’t finish. At least not on my own bike,’ the lad said.

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ Kensy said, rolling her eyes. She straightened her shoulders and marched away to find Autumn, annoyed with Mrs Vanden Boom’s unfair decision.

  She wasn’t the only one who thought it strange. There was a raft of chatter among the rest of the students. Max hadn’t earned the points himself so why should he get them at all?

  Following their morning at the racetrack the children were transported back to the stables. After changing into their regular clothes they made their way to the terrace where Song and Mrs Thornthwaite had a barbecue lunch on the go.

  ‘Good afternoon, children, please form an orderly queue,’ Song said. They were given a choice of bacon and eggs rolls, a sausage in a bun or steak sandwiches, all with optional onions and sauce.

  Alfie devoured one of each, despite garnering himself a glare from Mr Nutting.

  ‘Racing is a hungry business, sir,’ the lad said as he stuffed the last bit of sausage into his mouth.

  ‘So why do you think Vanden Boom gave Max the same points as Kensy and Alfie?’ Carlos said to Sachin while they were standing in the line.

  The lad turned and frowned. ‘You don’t . . . think . . .?’ he started but stopped before he said anything that could get him into strife.

  Behind the boys, Yasmina and Misha had caught Carlos’s words too.

  ‘Yeah, there’s something rotten in the state of Denmark, don’t you think?’ Yasmina quipped.

  Sachin wrinkled his nose. ‘But we’re not in Denmark.’

  Misha rolled her eyes. ‘It’s a quote from Hamlet. You know, it’s a play, by Shakespeare?’

  ‘Oh,’ Sachin said, his eyes wide. But all of them were thinking the same thing. Maybe Max was the villain.

  Lunch was followed by a group meeting and a surprise visitor.

  The children were gathered in the common room space, talking about all the craziness of this morning’s race when Mrs Vanden Boom moved to the podium at the end of the room and asked everyone to take a seat and settle down.

  ‘Yesterday you asked me what the prize was for this year’s winner of the Pharos Trainee Spy Games,’ the woman began.

  ‘Is it a car?’ Sachin called out. ‘Because I’d like to place my order for an Aston Martin please, DB11 in silver preferably.’

  ‘You’ll need to learn how to drive first,’ Alfie quipped.

  ‘Bugger off, Dingle,’ Sachin snapped.

  ‘Alfie’s right, Sachin.’ Yasmina rolled her eyes. ‘Who says you’re going to win, Varma? You boys always think you’re better than us, but Kensy showed you today, didn’t she? And Harper almost got there too.’

  Kensy grinned.

  ‘If you’d all pipe down then perhaps I could introduce our special guest, who’s going to tell you what the prize is,’ Romilly said.

  She stepped away from the podium just as Dame Cordelia Spencer entered the room.

  Kensy was about to call out to her grandmother when she remembered this was not family time. She stopped herself and gave the woman a grin.

  Cordelia nodded towards the twins and smiled at everyone. ‘Good afternoon, all. It’s wonderful to have you here at Alexandria for the twenty-fifth annual Pharos Trainee Spy Games. I’ve heard that there have been some fierce contests so far and more to come. I’m looking forward to observing the activities myself this afternoon and tomorrow.’

  Dame Spencer spoke about the importance of doing their best and understanding that the idea of having a saboteur in their rank and file was to keep them on their toes. Finally she got to the good bit.

  ‘The prize for this year’s winner – well, I’m not going to tell you, how about I show you?’ the woman said.

  Spy-style music blared through the speakers and a movie projected onto the screen behind Dame Spencer. She stepped aside as the children watched a montage of action – two people running from explosions, leaping over rooftops, driving fast cars, in hand-to-hand combat, thumping through the waves on jet skis then leaping from the top of a snow-covered mountain on skis with parachutes on their backs. But it was Alfie who spotted the detail first.

  ‘Hey – that was me up there, but now it’s you, Carlos, with Misha,’ the boy called out. The children realised that the actors’ faces kept changing – and each of them was on the screen at various times.

  The music came to an end and the picture faded to black.

  ‘Does the winner get to star in their own spy movie? Like they’re the new junior James Bond or something?’ Dante called out.

  Dame Spencer shook her head. ‘No, the winner and another student, whom the winner will get to choose, will be part of a bona fide upcoming Pharos mission,’ Dame Spencer said.

  The children’s jaws dropped.

  All around the room fists clenched and hearts raced. As trainees they weren’t supposed to be sent on proper missions – although Kensy and Max had gone to Australia on one, but at the time they thought it was just to get them out of danger in London. In the end it turned out to be a fake mission turned real with plenty of twists and danger.

  ‘So we get to have gadgets and stuff and work with other active agents?’ Sachin said.

  Cordelia Spencer nodded. ‘Absolutely. It will be a mission that requires young people to be involved and I thought this was the best way to find out who was up to the task. Even I don’t know what it will entail yet, but we’ll call on you when needed.’

  ‘Woohoo!’ Sachin called out and began to clap. He was quickly joined by everyone else stamping their feet and punching the air. This was the best prize yet by far.

  ‘Well, good luck, everyone. This afternoon’s activity should be lots of fun and will require your brains and brawn.’

  The children looked at one another, wondering what they were in for. It didn’t take long to find out.

  The second challenge for the day involved working in groups of three to solve a series of clues that would allow them to exit an escape room called Song’s Magical Emporium. It was full to the brim with curious objects like skeletons, skulls, orbs that emitted a rainbow of colours, swords, top hats and just about anything else you might see in a magic show. The room was housed beneath the stables and while the children waited their team’s turn they were allowed to play board games and table tennis in the common room, supervised by Miss Witherbee. Once they had completed the test the groups were sent to the front lawn where Mr Nutting had set up a game of football.

  Unfortunately Dame Spencer’s prize revelation had raised the stakes higher than ever and the idea of cooperation had gone completely out the window – despite there being points on offer for just that, as well as solving all the clues and being the fastest team to escape. With so much suspicion, the activity turned into something of a disaster. Max was almost sure that Carlos was deliberately messing up their clues, while Carlos decided that Max was the villain because he said he couldn’t solve the final code. As if. The boy was a genius when it came to that sort of thing. Misha was being a pain too – preferring to play with the magic tricks than offer any real assistance.

  The other groups didn’t seem to be faring much better, with arguments and accusations flying.

  After dinner Mrs Vanden Boom had shared their overall places and, surprisingly, Yasmina had jumped into the lead. She had done the lion’s share of the work in her team to release them from the escape room. Sadly Dante hadn’t been able to help himself and lost fifty points for voicing his opinion to Harper and Inez that Max was the saboteur. The children didn’t know it at the time, but the challenge had been monitored from a secret control room by Dame Spencer, Song and Mrs Vanden Boom. Tomorrow the children would be watched too – from drone cameras all over the estate feeding the footage straight to the room.

  While a couple of rounds of charades before bed improved the overall mood, the children were on edge. There was one final challenge in the morning and everyone wanted to win, though they had no idea what it was. They were all developing their theories about the saboteur too, so the levels of suspicion were currently off the charts.

  Sitting in the covered tray of an old army truck, bumping along in the dark, Max had goosebumps, partly from the chilly morning air but mostly because he was excited about what was to come. He wondered where they were heading. Before they set off on their final challenge, the children had all been given a watch that had myriad uses, from a compass to a torch to a communication device, before being blindfolded and helped into the truck. They were being driven to different destinations all over the estate, equidistant from the first activity. Once there they would be dropped off and given an envelope containing the first set of coordinates and a riddle. They had to wait until exactly ten o’clock before setting off. The event was on a strict time limit too, with three hours from beginning to end.

  Kensy was sitting beside Autumn, lost in her thoughts.

  ‘Stay safe,’ Autumn said to her friend.

  ‘Thanks, you too,’ Kensy replied, then wondered if that was some sort of warning. Surely Autumn wasn’t the saboteur, but maybe she was? Kensy thought she’d seen the girl brush past a couple of bikes in the garage yesterday.

  Silence overwhelmed the truck as the children listened to every gear change and felt every bump in the road. The vehicle came to a stop and they could hear the canvas being peeled back.

  ‘Right, stand up, Alfie. You’re off first. Take my hand,’ Mr Fizzle instructed. ‘And remember you’re not to remove that blindfold until your watch beeps the countdown – at one minute to ten. If I were you, I’d sit down and have a rest. You’re going to need all the energy you can muster for what’s about to come next.’ Elliot Frizzle chortled to himself, which did nothing to erase the nerves of the rest of the children still inside the truck.

  The vehicle continued on its way, driving about the same distance between each drop-off. One by one the children got out. Some sat in an almost meditative state, listening for the countdown, while others – namely Alfie, who had been waiting the longest – had decided to have a nap.

  Meanwhile back in the control room Song was chuckling, ‘Oh Dame Spencer, you must see this. Master Alfie has really done a number on himself this time.’

  Cordelia giggled as they watched the burly lad clutching at his head – he’d accidentally lain in the middle of a stinging nettle, and was now bumping around on all fours.

  ‘Poor dear,’ Cordelia said. ‘Make sure we have some extra treats for him at the end and find some balsam for those stings.’

  Dotted all over the estate the children were on tenterhooks. Suddenly there was a collective vibration of watches and an alarm sounded. They could finally remove their blindfolds as the one-minute countdown had begun.

  Curtis looked around and had absolutely no idea where he was. Somewhere in the middle of the woods. He tore open the envelope and studied the coordinates then used his compass to locate the direction he had to travel. The clue was easy. You’ll need a bow and arrow to hit this target. Obviously they were heading for an archery course. And he knew there was one in the walled garden near the greenhouse to the side of the mansion. Now he just had to find his way there.

  Kensy thought she was somewhere out past the family mausoleum while Autumn was on the other side of the river close to the entrance to the estate – though she knew where there was a bridge she could cross.

  Max looked at his watch. ‘Three, two, one,’ he said out loud, and began to run.

  The children were converging on the walled garden from their various locations – all except Dante, who had managed to lose his envelope somewhere between getting dropped off the truck and the 10 am start. He’d looked everywhere before realising it had blown under a bush. He quickly retrieved it, read the contents and took off some five minutes after the others.

  Yasmina was the first to reach their destination. There were enough bows and arrows for every trainee agent and ten targets. In order to receive the next clue from Miss Witherbee the children had to score a bullseye.

  Yasmina took aim and fired, piercing the outside black ring.

  ‘Argh!’ the girl cried out in frustration as she quickly reloaded.

  Max and Harper raced into the garden, followed by Kensy, Autumn, Misha and Dante.

  Max scored a bullseye first attempt and Miss Witherbee reached into the satchel she was holding and passed Max the next clue. The boy tore it open and frowned, trying to work out what the words meant. It was about flags and flagpoles and trying not to slip. The only flagpole he knew of around here was on the tower atop the mansion. This had to be a parkour test.

  Kensy had now fired three arrows all of which skirted the yellow dot in the centre. It was the fourth go that saw her succeed. She grabbed the envelope from Miss Witherbee and raced after her brother, stopping outside the walled garden to read the clue.

  She ran around to the front of the mansion and considered her options. It sounded like the objective was to collect a flag from the tower and another from the greenhouse roof, which meant traversing from one end of the enormous building to the other then somehow getting across to the greenhouse. This was going to be interesting. Hopefully there was something in place – no one could leap that far between buildings. The activity would be made all the more difficult with a crowd up there. She had to get started before there was a traffic jam.

  Kensy looked skywards and saw her brother climbing like a monkey. He was just about at the top. She scaled a rose trellis that got her to a windowsill on the second floor then used the building’s architectural features – ledges and columns – to ascend higher and higher until she lifted her leg over the top of the roofline and raced to collect a flag.

  Max was on his way down from the tower, flag in hand, and would have to balance like a tightrope walker along the ridge capping to get to the other side.

  Kensy charged off after her brother. As she danced along the roof something, or rather someone, caught her eye. But they hadn’t been on the roof already – had they? And here they were, picking up the next clue from Miss Ziegler, who was standing near the greenhouse door. Kensy’s mind was racing. She’d know that perfect hair anywhere. She dropped to her stomach and peered over the edge, not wanting to be seen. When she stood up again the person was gone and she was about to be run over by a slew of other competitors, who all seemed to make their way to the tower at the same time. Kensy sped away with Carlos hot on her heels.

  Fortunately a flying fox enabled Kensy to collect the second flag from the greenhouse roof and get her third clue within a minute.