entered the back of the command center and calmly sat down at a computer console. No need even for a code word to get access. The machine had been left on by the person who'd been operating it. That person was staring up at us, eyes wide, mouth even wider.
With my acute tiger's hearing I could hear through the glass.
"Is that a bear?"
"Yeah."
"Is it mopping the floor?"
"Uh-huh."
"Have we gone nuts?"
"I'm not nuts. It's the bear who's nuts. That's carpeted up there."
"Why does it have sneakers around its neck?"
A few people screamed. A few ran. Most just stared as we cavorted around, having a fine time.
"Marco winked," Tobias reported. "They must be doing okay."
"Two more minutes, then we get out of here before someone down there thinks to call in security^ I said.
"Too late," Cassie reported. "Here they come! Two guys with handguns."
"0h, man. Okay. We'll try and scare them off first." Two men in gray uniforms came racing around the corner into view. They had guns drawn. They
didn't even notice Cassie, they just stared in horror and confusion at the lunatic scene of a hawk, a bear, and a tiger, all seemingly involved in mopping a carpeted floor.
I set the bucket down.
R R R R ROOOOOAAAAAR R R R!
One of the men dropped his gun, turned around, and ran. "Ya-ah-ah-ah!"
The other one was shaking, but he held on.
"Y-y-you animals g-get out of here. You're not a-a-a-authorized to be here!"
"You have to admire the guy," Rachel said. "He must know that little popgun wouldn't stop either of us for a minute."
"Yeah, well, it would stop me," Tobias said darkly. "l'm just a birdie."
"D-d-don't make me shoot!"
"0kay, Cassie," I said. "l hate to do it, but take him out before he decides to shoot."
Cassie turned her back to the guard. She raised her black-and-white tail. She turned her cute little face to look back over her shoulder.
Then she dropped the tip of her tail.
If you ever see a skunk go through that sequence, leave. Leave, go far away, don't look back. The guard didn't know that.
"Fire," I told Cassie.
She fired.
The guard, who had stood up to a grizzly bear
and a tiger, either of which could have turned him into raw hamburger, had had enough. No one, but no one, can be brave when he's been hosed by a skunk.
"Aaaaarrrggghhh!" He dropped the gun and ran.
"0kay, now let's bail!" I said.
"That was kind of fun," Rachel said.
We ran, dragging our cheap tennis shoes along. We spotted an elevator.
Tobias flew over and punched the button with his beak. People looked out of doorways at us. We roared and they went back inside.
The elevator door slid open. There was an executive and a bike messenger on it. They decided to get off when we crowded into the elevator.
Rachel jabbed a claw at the button for the lobby. And by the time we got there, the only people on the elevator were four kids wearing tight clothes and cheap shoes.
Heavily armed city cops dressed in SWAT team black were marching into the lobby carrying automatic weapons. Marco and Ax were already standing in a corner, acting like fascinated observers.
"Did you kids see a bear?" one cop asked.
"Yeah, right." Rachel laughed. "A bear."
We hooked up with Marco and Ax and went outside. I breathed a sigh of relief. "How'd it go?"
"We had no difficulties, Prince Jake," Ax said.
"Yeah, No problem," Marco said. But he looked concerned. Maybe a little sick.
"So, what's the matter?"
He shrugged. "No biggie. Once we got into the system it was a breeze. We had plenty of time. So I figured why not check out one or two extra screen names."
"Not exactly the reason we were there," Tobias said.
"This girl whose screen name is PrtyGirl802. She like sends me these very flirty kind of E-mails and IM messages. You know. Like she likes me and all."
"So you found out who she is?" Cassie asked. "That's not very nice."
"Yeah, no kidding it wasn't nice. I found out my online girlfriend PrtyGirl802 is actually a seventy-three-year-old retired postal worker."
We had to memorize the list of names we'd gotten. There was no way to carry them. For the most part the names meant nothing to us. They were just names. And I'll only use the first names.
Except for the one name that really stuck out.
Joe Bob Fenestre. "Fitey777" was, in reality, the billionaire owner of Web Access America.
"No way," Marco said. "That guy hangs out in chat rooms? If I were him, I'd spend my day rolling around in big stacks of hundred-dollar bills, paying Michael Jordan to come over and teach me how to improve my three-point shot -"
"You have no three-point shot, Marco," I pointed out.
"- and having the female cast members of Baywatch apply suntan oil to my muscular body."
"So you'd have bought some muscles, too, huh?" Rachel said. "Didn't know you could do that."
"When you count your money in billions you can buy anything," Marco said. "Including happiness. Assuming that your idea of happiness involves a private jet, supermodels, and your own Papa John's pizza restaurant down in the basement."
"Be sure and leave your brain to science when you die, Marco," Rachel said. "After all, they're the ones with the microscopes it'd take to find it."
I laughed. Marco cocked an eyebrow at me, like I'd betrayed him.
I shrugged. "Sorry, but that round goes to Rachel."