Read Online The Final Curtain by Deborah Abela - Free Book Online

benches lined with microscopes, lasers and computers, neatly packed glass cabinets and tall, quietly whirring machines. They found Quimby with an eyepiece bending over her main workbench.
    â€˜Professor Quimby, your special agents have arrived.’
    Quimby spun round. Max shrank from what she thought was an eye patch covering her eye socket. ‘I’m sorry about your eye,’ she said. ‘I’ve been a bit jumpy because of these dreams about Blue, and when I saw the waiter with the gun I thought …’
    Quimby took a cylindrical contraption from her eye. ‘This is a super magnifier so I can do final checks on your tracer bugs. My eye, and the rest of me, is fine.’
    â€˜Luckily,’ Toby muttered.
    â€˜But I ruined your –’
    â€˜The demonstration didn’t go quite as I expected.’ Quimby smiled. ‘But not much does , working in this business.’
    â€˜Especially with Max around.’
    Max threw her hands on her hips. ‘Why don’t you –’
    Steinberger stepped between Toby and Max. ‘All get fitted into your suits so we can explain the task ahead?’
    â€˜Excellent suggestion, Steinby.’ Quimby wheeled a covered rack closer to them and pulled off a large sheet. ‘These are the Super Suits for today’s training exercise.’
    Quimby handed each of the agents a green camouflage-pattern suit.
    â€˜Last night Toby paraded the “Formal” version of the suit, but these are called our “Forest Special”. You can change over there.’
    The three spies disappeared into the change cubicles Quimby pointed to. Toby was out first, bursting through the curtain in his most practised action pose. The cargo-style pants, equipped with pockets and zip-off legs, fit perfectly beneath a button-up, long-sleeve shirt and cap.
    â€˜Okay nature, come and get me.’
    Linden was next with an equally well-fitting suit, but without the action pose.
    They waited for Max’s curtain to slide open.
    And they waited …
    Max?’ Steinberger crept closer to her cubicle. ‘Are you okay in there?’
    The curtain was flung aside and Max shuffled out. ‘Good fit,’ Toby sniggered.
    â€˜Sorry, Max,’ Quimby apologised. ‘I did ask to have one made in your size, but it looks like they’ve added a little extra material.’
    â€˜A little?’ Max’s suit was made for a person twice her size. Possibly more.
    â€˜If you roll up the sleeves and the cuffs of your pants, it’ll fit perfectly,’ Steinberger offered.
    Max stared at him as she put on her cap and it fell over her eyes and ears.
    â€˜Almost,’ he added.
    Quimby reached into her pocket and pulled out some hairclips. ‘These should help keep it in place.’
    The suit dripped off Max from every angle. It drooped from her shoulders, pooled past her ankles and slid down her waist. She squatted to the floor to roll up her pants before standing and pulling up the waist.
    Steinberger continued with the training instructions.
    â€˜In a short while, we will be dropping you at different points in a forest near London. The forest is off limits to the public and used exclusively by Spyforce, sometimes for office picnics but mostly for training. Your task today is to reach the centre of the forest and be the first to claim the Spyforce flag. The position of the flag is marked on a map I’ve sent to your palm computers. The map also comes with a compass to give you your bearings. The real task, however, will be to evade each other and specially chosen Spyforce agents, who will betrying their best to stop you reaching the flag.’ He smiled. ‘Your Super Suits and a few select gadgets should help you achieve your task. Quimby?’
    â€˜For today’s training exercise, we have included super-slim laser guns that will shoot out a bright red beam of light. When the laser strikes your suit it will set off an