Zeke Bartholomew Read Online Free Page B

sunglasses, I probably looked like a short, nervous burglar. Nice going, Zeke.
    Hastily I put the lids back on the trash cans and turned to head home. Just as I fastened the last lid on, however, a car pulled up in the Lances’ driveway and I was frozen between a pair of ultra-bright headlights.
    This was really not good…
    The car was sleek and black and the windows were tinted. I didn’t know what to do. If I ran, they’d know I was up to something. And if I stayed put, they’d still know I was up to something. So I did what I always do when I get nervous—I got the hiccups. As I held my breath, the passenger door opened.
    The engine was still running when out stepped a man wearing a dark suit and sunglasses. He walked around to where I stood, never taking his gaze from me. I tried to think of a million things to say, some sort of excuse as to why I was there.
    The man walked up to me, stopped, and to my surprise said, “Agent Derek Lance?”
    Agent Derek Lance. I was right. Derek Lance was a spy!
    I could have replied any way I wanted, and to this day I don’t know why I said what I did. I responded with six simple words: “Yes, I am agent Derek Lance.”
    The man nodded and mumbled something into a microphone attached to his sleeve that sounded like “Mr. Safari.” Then he said, “Come with us.”
    The agent opened the back door of the sedan. Another agent was sitting there, along with a driver, both wearing the same suit getup. The man in the backseat nodded. “It’s an honor to meet you, Agent Lance.”
    â€œLikewise,” I said, slipping in next to him. I know you’re never supposed to get in cars with strangers, but something about this felt right. My whole life I’d wanted to be a spy, and even if I couldn’t be Derek Lance, I could at least feel what it was like to be him for one night before they discovered I was lame old Ezekiel Bartholomew. “Medium everything.”
    The car pulled away from the Lance home. The three agents stayed silent. After about ten minutes, I said, “So…where to?”
    The men laughed. “You know where we’re headed, Agent Lance. He’s dying to meet you.”
    â€œOh, I’m looking forward to meeting, um, him too,” I said stupidly. “Just forgot the address is all.”
    â€œUnderstandable. He doesn’t like people to remember where his headquarters is located.”
    â€œRight. Well…he’s done a very good job keeping it hidden.”
    â€œHe works quite hard to maintain secrecy,” the man next to me said.
    â€œ Quite hard,” the driver seconded.
    â€œExtremely hard,” the third man said.
    â€œHe works hard. Got it,” I said.
    â€œBefore we arrive at our destination,” the man next to me said, “we need to be certain that you have the codes.”
    My eyes went wide.
    â€œThe…codes?”
    â€œYes. As you know, Operation Songbird is scheduled to go into effect in twenty-four hours. SirEebro cannot be activated without the codes. That is why you’re here.”
    â€œOf course, SirEebro and Operation Songbird,” I said, playing it off. “But, you know, I’d rather wait until we get there before I give them to you. If that’s okay.” I figured that would at least buy me some time to figure out what to do.
    One of the agents up front spoke into a microphone. I only made out codes…wants to wait…affirmative.
    The man turned back to face me. “Mr. Le Carré understands your concerns. However, he requires you to reveal one of the three codes right now. The others can wait until we arrive, as you desire.”
    â€œRight. One code. Out of three. No problem.” I thought about all the spy books and movies I’d memorized. They always spoke in code. I remembered enough to give it a shot. “Alpha. Tango. Bravo…”
    The man next to me screwed up his