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agents have searched every last classroom, locker, and backpack.”
    â€œBut they can’t do that,” one of my classmates shouted. “What about, like, our human rights and stuff?”
    As other kids made similar protests, I stared at the back of Danielle’s head, several rows in front of me. She did not turn around, which was smart. But I desperately wanted to ask her what we were going to do. Because as I thought of my backpack, sitting in my locker with the fugitive hard drive inside, I realized that I certainly hadno idea. I’d almost broken down into tears by the time I decided that I had no choice but to act. I had to do something .
    I stood up and started walking calmly toward the front of the classroom, passing Danielle without looking at her. I was afraid she’d try to stop me if I did.
    â€œCarson, back in your seat,” Mr. Kittson said.
    â€œI’m just getting a Kleenex,” I said, pointing at the box of tissue on top of the marker tray near the door.
    Mr. Kittson hesitated and then turned his attention back to the questions still flying at him from the stunned, excited, and nervous students.
    I reached the door and pulled a Kleenex from the box. I pretended to blow my nose and then dropped the tissue next to the trash can, missing on purpose. As I bent down to pick up the Kleenex with my left hand, my right hand reached up and grabbed the doorknob. I opened the door and tipped over the trash can in front of it, all in one motion. Then I ran from the room, leaving behind a stunned Mr. Kittson with a minor obstacle in his way. His few seconds of shock and a few more untangling the door from the trash can would hopefully be just enough time for me to get to my locker.
    After that . . . I had no idea what I’d do. I obviously hadn’t had much time to lay this plan out in my head. But it didn’t matter either way.
    I didn’t even get close to my locker.

CHAPTER 7
URINE—A SPY’S BEST KEPT SECRET WEAPON
    A FTER RUNNING DOWN JUST ONE SHORT HALLWAY, I TURNED the corner and crashed right into Agent Chum Bucket’s stained and smelly white T-shirt. I bounced off his deceptively muscular gut and landed on the floor with a grunt.
    He looked down at me in surprise and then threw a small slip of paper onto my lap right before two NSB agents tackled him from behind.
    All three of them went sprawling to the floor beside me. I scooted back against the lockers, subtly closing my hand around the small message Agent Chum Buckethad passed along. I quickly slid it behind the tag on the underside of the tongue of my shoe and then planted a shocked and scared expression on my face.
    A backpack Agent Chum Bucket had been carrying had flown off his shoulder during the takedown. The contents were now spilled out across the hallway floor as he struggled with the two agents detaining him. The backpack wasn’t mine, but among the contents was the hard drive I had just stolen from Principal Gomez’s office.
    My stomach dropped. Agent Chum Bucket must have been trying to sneak it out of the school before the NSB could search my locker. Now his cover would be compromised and the mission would fail. My head fell onto my knees, and when I looked up, there was a large hand in front of my face.
    I recognized the guy in the suit standing above me as NSB Special Agent Loften, one of the men who had arrested Mr. Gomez earlier that morning. He was tall and skinny, yet still looked like he could wrestle a grizzly bear and win. But at the same time, there was something strangely comforting about the concerned look on his face.
    â€œCome on, up you go,” he said as I grabbed his hand and he helped me to my feet.
    The two agents who had tackled Agent Chum Bucket were putting him in handcuffs now as two more collected everything that had fallen out of the backpack and placed it in a black duffel bag with the letters NSB stenciled onto the side.
    â€œDo I know you?” Agent