The Nerdy Dozen #2 Read Online Free

OF THE SAFETY harness locking him in place. It passed across both shoulders and latched into the stiff metal seat beneath his thin legs. Even after a summer growth spurt, his feet didn’t quite touch the floor. He was alone in the belly of a huge cargo plane as Jones assisted with the landing in the cockpit.

    As Neil stared down the row of empty seats, he plucked a piece of crouton from his hair. Before being whisked away by Jones, he’d used a wet kitchen towel to give himself a post-museum shower, but his hair was apparently saving some leftovers.
    â€œInitiating final descent” came a voice through the headset hugging Neil’s ears. The plane dropped, flipping Neil’s stomach. He pinched his nose and popped his ears to equalize the change in pressure, something he’d picked up during the last mission. “Prepare for landing.”
    â€œIf I had a tray table, it would be up,” Neil shouted back over the engine noise.
    Turbulence shook the plane violently, but Neil remained surprisingly calm. As the massive plane’s landing gear made contact with the ground, he was focused on breathing.
    Exhale . . . two . . . three . . . four.
    It was advice he’d found online from a retired Air Force pilot, and one of many professional flying tips Neil was anxious to show off. He’d done some thorough Googling about real-life pilots, and was ready to prove he was one as well.

    The internet stranger, going by the moniker the Invisible Coyote, said that pilots in tight formation would even learn to breathe at the same time. Neil and Biggs tried practicing in a game of Chameleon weeks before, but Neil accidentally hit the mute button and nearly suffocated his friend and fellow pilot.
    â€œAll right, Andertol. Let’s move,” said Jones, emerging from the cockpit.
    The plane rolled to a stop, and Neil heard the rear hydraulic hatch engage and begin to open. Sunlight quickly filled the ship’s cargo hold, casting a long shadow behind Jones’s muscular frame.
    â€œSir, yes, sir, Major Jones,” Neil replied with a nod. He removed his headset and freed himself from his seat’s nylon safety web.
    The camouflaged soldier didn’t reply and stomped down the ship’s metal hatch. Neil followed Jones out onto the runway, jittering with excitement and a completely full bladder. The sun was beginning to set behind a glob of cauliflower-shaped clouds, and the smell of salt water from a nearby ocean brushed past Neil’s nose. Wherever he was, it was far from his landlocked home.

    While a map or travel brochure on his current location would have been nice, he did appreciate the Air Force’s “burlap bag–free” approach they must have recently adopted. A certain amount of trust could be earned when you weren’t blindfolded in a trunk or backseat.
    â€œSo, what’s the mission, Major?”
    â€œFirst things first, Andertol—it’s Major General Jones, now,” the soldier shouted to Neil as they marched away from the roar of the cargo plane’s engine.
    â€œOh, nice! A promotion,” Neil gushed. They headed toward a tall, looming white building. “Do you get any fancy new pins or medals? Do they have a good jangle to them?”
    Jones shook his head and patted Neil’s back with a huge, rough hand. It knocked the gamer’s bony body forward a few inches as they crossed over the still-warm asphalt. They neared the entrance of the giant structure, an obvious aircraft hangar of some kind.
    â€œYou know what? I think I’ve missed you, Andertol.”
    Neil smiled to himself with pride. Those weren’t words he ever expected to hear from someone who seemed to always need a nap.
    As the rickety metal doors of the hangar opened, the last of the day’s sunshine spilled onto the interior of the hangar floor’s taupe-colored concrete. The structure was vast and empty, like a hollowed-out steel turtle shell.

    A