The Antagonist—a.k.a. Dumb Vinci—was behind bars. Sherman Stoop got his job back on the security team. Mr. Miniature returned to his job at the supermarket. Justin Maines resumed his life as a dead body on television shows. Even Ms. Dove came to her senses, but not before she was transferred to a middle school in the darkest, coldest reaches of Siberia. Mama Rosa returned to her sweet, lovable self—and even apologized to Mrs. Valencia for years of bitterness.
And slowly the world returned to normal.
But Brand could not return to normal. When he finally did get back to the Playground, he was changed. The soft edges Ms. Holiday had been sculpting on him were sharp once more. His ability to see his agents as more than children was gone.
In one final act as director of the NERDS, he hired Wyatt, Hooper, Toad, and Jessie to be part of a new team called the Troublemakers, which had only one other member, a former assassin turned spy named the Hyena. Then he quit. He didn’t say good-bye to the children or to Dr. Kim or to the lunch lady. He was just gone, and no one, not even General Savage, knew where he went.
YOU DID IT! NOT ONLY ARE YOU A SUPERIOR PHYSICAL SPECIMEN, YOU HAVE LITTLE REGARD FOR YOUR OWN PERSONAL SAFETY AND HEALTH. THUS, YOU MAKE A FINE CANDIDATE TO BE A SECRET AGENT.
JUST BETWEEN YOU AND ME … WAS THE BEAR SCARY? I MEAN, I JUST MADE THAT UP OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD AND TOSSED IT INTO THIS BOOK. I NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D ACTUALLY DO IT. I BET IT HURT WHEN HE BIT YOU ON THE BUTT AND THOSE BIG CLAWS RIPPED YOUR FACE OFF. WELL, DON’T WORRY. MOST PEOPLE WILL HARDLY NOTICE THAT YOU DON’T HAVE A FACE. BESIDES, WHO NEEDS A FACE WHEN YOU ARE BUBBLING OVER WITH COURAGE?
Heathcliff lay in his bed, drifting off to sleep. It was nice to be around such friendly people who all seemed very concerned about him. Maybe one day soon he would get his memory back and remember them, but until then he would take it easy, just the way that nice Dr. Kim had suggested.
He was starting to dream when he felt something odd in his nose. On the table next to his bed was a box of tissues, and he snatched one. Even blowing as hard as he could, he couldn’t dislodge whatever it was, and worse, it seemed to be getting bigger.
He crawled out of bed and walked over to the washbasin at the far end of the room. There was a mirror hanging on the wall, so he flipped on the light and gave his nostrils a scan. Whatever was stuck up there was moving on its own, and it was starting to hurt. He could see it was pushing under the skin like a big round ball. Desperate, he blew his nose once more and this time something popped out.
With watery eyes he tried to focus on the thing, but he couldn’t get a clear glimpse. He could only tell one thing: It was getting bigger—much bigger. In a matter of seconds it was as big as a dog, and then as big as a little boy. Finally, it rose to its full height and Heathcliff realized what it was—a woman. Or least he thought it was a woman. She was wearing some kind of suit—like for traveling in space—complete with a huge helmet. The figure removed the helmet to reveal a black mask covering her face. The mask had a big white skull painted on the front of it.
The woman glanced around the room as if getting her bearings. “I’m back! How long have I been gone?”
“Who are you?” Heathcliff stammered.
The woman chuckled. “Why, sweetie, I’m the lady who’s going to take over the world.”
A supersecret thank-you to my nerds and the true heroes of this series: my two editors, Susan Van Metre and Maggie Lehrman, who help turn these funny, little story ideas into a real book; Jason Wells and his team, who market and publicize and help me get to the airport on time; Chad W. Beckerman, whose keen eye and brilliant designs make this series into something very special; my wife and agent, Alison Fargis, and everyone at Stonesong—thank you, Alison, for keeping me grounded and reminding me that I, too, am a great big nerd; Nick Herman, Mariah Molina, Na-Quanda Chavis, Eileen Schorr, Bonoki-Oscar, Kari Smith, and the staff at Starbucks #11807 in Brooklyn, N.Y.; friends; family; and of course, my favorite little nerd, Finn.
About the Author
Michael Buckley, a former member of NERDS, now spends his time writing. In addition to the top-secret file you are holding, Michael has written the New York Times bestselling Sisters Grimm series, which has been published in more than twenty languages. He has also created shows for Discovery Channel, Cartoon Network, Warner Bros., TLC, and Nickelodeon. He lives somewhere (if he told you where exactly, he’d have to kill you).
This book was art directed and designed by Agent Chad W. Beckerman. The illustrations were created by Agent Ethen Beavers.
The principal of Thomas Knowlton Middle School was working at his desk when the ninjas attacked. They wore black masks and held sharp swords over their heads. One crashed through the door with a high-pitched wail, his deadly weapon slicing the air, but he was stopped in his tracks when the principal karate-chopped him in the Adam’s apple. Ouch! Another ninja climbed through the window, but his head was crushed when the principal slammed it shut. Oof! A third ninja dropped from an air duct in the ceiling. His nunchucks swirled in deadly arcs, wrapping around the principal’s beefy forearm. But that was a mistake the ninja would forever regret, because the principal used the nunchucks to yank the ninja forward for a skull-splitting head butt. Lights out!
When it looked like the attack was over, two more ninjas popped out of the drawers of a steel file cabinet and attacked using their fists and feet, knocking the principal backward onto his desk. They held him down and, chuckling arrogantly, removed gleaming daggers from the folds of their clothes. But the principal was trained in several martial arts and highly proficient in the monkey, snake, and crane fighting styles. Plus, he was Irish, so he knew his way around a street fight. He snatched a stapler off his desk and slammed it into one ninja’s forehead and then the other’s. Both men cried out in agony and stumbled backward, onto the bodies of their fallen brothers.
The principal stood over the pile of broken villains. Then he started to applaud. “Thanks, guys,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah . . . ,” the men groaned as they staggered to their feet.
One of the ninjas took off his mask, revealing a chubby face and a large bald spot in the center of his curly brown hair. He didn’t look like a ninja. He looked like an accountant.
“Did we at least surprise you this time?” he groused.
The principal nodded. “Absolutely, Randy. I was completely taken off guard. I didn’t see the file cabinet thing coming at all. That was a nice touch.”
“He’s just saying that because he doesn’t want to hurt our feelings,” another ninja groaned. Underneath his mask he had bright red hair and a face full of freckles.