The Venice Job by Deborah Abela Read Free Book Online Page A

he grumbled. ‘I need to fix them.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Max felt as if someone had taken the trampoline away mid-bounce and she’d landed smack onto the ground. Realising she was in his way, she stepped aside and watched him pass.
    He’d only taken a few steps before he stopped and turned around, clutching the drill like it was his favourite pet. ‘Um … it’s, ahhh … good to see you. Back here, I mean. Ahhh …’ he muttered, unable to look Max in the eye. ‘It’s, ahhh …’
    Dretch wasn’t the world’s best speaker and Max decided to put him out of his misery.
    â€˜Thanks.’
    He groaned and walked away.
    â€˜He’s not staying?’ Linden appeared beside Max with a giant chocolate-covered strawberry.
    â€˜Doesn’t seem like it.’ She frowned. ‘You know, Linden, the scary thing about Dretch is that sometimes he annoys me because he reminds me of … well … me.’
    Linden stopped mid-chew. His cheek bulged out with strawberry and his eyes flicked abouttrying to find something that would get him out of saying anything.
    Max folded her arms across her chest. ‘You’re supposed to say, “No, Max, even at your grumpiest you were never that bad.”’
    â€˜Ohhh aah aah eee oooh.’ For the moment the strawberry saved him from saying anything she might understand.
    â€˜You’d better finish chewing that before you choke,’ Max said with a raised eyebrow.
    Steinberger had finished his call and made his way back to Max. ‘Everyone having a good time?’ He asked nervously, unsure if Max had forgiven him yet.
    â€˜Yeah.’ Max smiled. ‘We are.’
    Steinberger’s tense shoulders relaxed. ‘That’s a relief. A mission should always begin in good spirits, I always say. With your mood lifted high and your …’
    â€˜Speaking of mission …’ Max was keen to avoid another Steinberger talkfest. ‘Shouldn’t we start ours?’
    Steinberger looked at his watch. ‘Yes. Quite.’
    He motioned to Toby who was busy trying out a sample plate of gourmet sausages. Toby quickly bundled a few into a serviette and hurried over.
    â€˜You waved?’
    â€˜It’s time for your mission brief and our journey to the inner sanctum of the Force.’ He placed a hand over his heart. ‘Mr Harrison’s office.’
    Steinberger stood like that for whole seconds.
    â€˜Was it going to be any time soon, because I didn’t get to try out all the sausages.’ Toby bit into another one.
    Steinberger came to. ‘Yes, of course.’ He grinned. A new mission always put him in a high state of excitement. ‘Right now, in fact. Follow me.’

After a ride in an elevator disguised as a terracotta pot that stalled twice and groaned to a slow stop, Toby, Max, Linden and Steinberger plunged past the many secret levels of Spyforce to arrive at Harrison’s office.
    â€˜Have … a … nice … thank you … for … rrrrrr … raaaaa … orrrrr.’ The melodious elevator greeting system slowed to a drawled stop.
    â€˜For a top spy agency, you don’t think you might need better elevators?’ Toby squeezed through the half-open doors.
    Steinberger seemed preoccupied by other thoughts and didn’t answer. He straightened his tie, brushed over his hair and ran his tongue along his teeth before he stepped carefully into the richly carpeted, opulent foyer. Together they passed the glass cabinet with the Original Spyforce Manual and came to the doors of Harrison’s office.
    Steinberger wiped his hands on his hanky before carefully turning the doorknob. They entered a darkened room with tall ceilings and long stained-glass windows. There were sunken leather lounges crowded with cushions, lush red velvet curtains, and a fireplace with twisted marble sides like faded candy-canes. Clinging to every measure of wall