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“Why does the school care about cheering in the summertime?” Molly said.

Ms. Holiday blinked. She wasn’t prepared for such a question, even though it was perfectly reasonable. Of course the school didn’t care about cheerleading! What could she say? Mrs. Choi looked as if she could smell a lie from a thousand miles away.

“They think it will help me come out of my shell,” Matilda said.

“I’ve seen you come out of your shell. Tell them you should go back in,” Moses said. This made the other boys fall all over themselves once again.

Molly stood up. “All of you. Go bounce an egg! Out!” she bellowed.

The boys ran out of the room like they were trying to escape from an erupting volcano. When they were gone, Molly returned to her seat. Her eyes locked on to Ms. Holiday’s once more. The librarian could feel the suspicion radiating off her.

“It will also teach me some leadership qualities,” Matilda said.

“Leadership?”

“Sure!” Ms. Holiday said. “It will teach her how to work in a team.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Matilda does not need to know how to work in a team. She needs to know how to lead one. She comes from a family of very strong women. Her brothers will need her guidance. You saw them! What can silly cheerleading give my daughter to make her brothers fear her?”

Ms. Holiday stood up from her chair and straightened her skirt. She couldn’t let this woman get in the way of the security of the world.

“I was a cheerleader when I was in college, Mrs. Choi. In fact, the only reason I went to college was because I won a cheerleading scholarship. When I got there, the other girls pushed me around. But I worked hard, and before any of them knew it I was the captain of the squad, and I made them work hard. Most of the girls learned to respect me and the ones who didn’t learned to fear me. When it was all said and done, my squad won the national championship. You want to know how many disorganized, disrespectful girls I had to manage, Mrs. Choi? Twenty-four! If you let Matilda try out for this team, I think the things she’ll learn about leadership will be more than enough to handle six rowdy brothers. Much more than enough!”

“Ben?” Molly asked.

Mr. Choi smiled. “I’m all for it. Anything that gets Matilda out of those ragamuffin clothes and combat boots she likes so much. Look at her. What a beauty! I say yes.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed and a disapproving crease appeared in between her brows. She shook her head, then stood up and left the room.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Holiday,” Ben said as he got up from his chair. “Matilda’s mother and I rarely see eye to eye these days, but I have to respect her choices even if I don’t agree.”

Ms. Holiday watched as Mr. Choi followed Molly out of the room. “Alexander is going to roar. It drives him nuts that he needs a parent’s permission to send an agent out to save the world.”

“Maybe the Hyena can go in my place,” Matilda said, trying not to look too happy.

Just then, Molly returned with something under her arm. “You cannot go, Little M, unless someone from our family goes along to look after you.” She offered Matilda the little stone statue from her room. “Take old grandfather with you. Keep him in your pocket. He will protect you whether you are cheerleading”—she turned her eyes to the librarian—“or doing something dangerous.”

Ms. Holiday swallowed hard.

Matilda and Agent Brand sat outside the YMCA in Arlington, Virginia. A steady stream of pretty girls stepped through a set of double doors for the tryouts for Team Strikeforce, the elite Junior East Coast Division cheerleading squad that the NERDS believed Gerdie had joined. A thousand girls like Matilda had come from all over the country for what was rumored to be nine vacant spots. Unlike Matilda, they were full of pep and smiles. She wanted to punch them all in the face. She hated her skirt flapping on her legs. She hated the hour it had taken to do her hair and makeup. She hated the pains in her cheeks from smiling. If she was going undercover, it should have been as a bullfighter or a luchador! It didn’t help that these girls went through the doors to the auditorium happy and high-spirited, only to come out sobbing into their hands. It made Matilda nervous. Not about failing or even looking foolish—she sort of expected that. No, she was worried about feeding one of her fists to the judges. Whatever they were saying to the hopefuls was brutal. She hadn’t seen so much blubbering since the time she challenged the men of the Alpha Sigma Phi fraternity to a punch fight.

Mr. Brand seemed even more nervous than Matilda. Most of the time the former spy was unflappable. Matilda had heard he once fought off a dozen assassins with only his fists and a bottle of champagne. But today he kept tapping the heel of his right shoe on the marble floor like a jackhammer. Perhaps he was just uncomfortable out of his tuxedo. Today, to keep a low profile, he was dressed in linen pants and a white shirt.

“Why isn’t the Hyena here to give me pointers?” Matilda said, hoping to distract the spy from his tapping. “You weren’t a cheerleader, were you?”

Mr. Brand shook his head. “The Hyena has other responsibilities.”

“Yeah? What are those, exactly?”

Brand stiffened. “Sorry, but you don’t have security clearance for that kind of information.”

Wheezer was stunned. “I have the highest security clearance in the country. I have higher security clearance than the president!”

Brand’s face told her not to press the issue. The Hyena’s mission was a secret for another day.

“Ms. Holiday cheered in college. Why didn’t she come?”

“Ms. Holiday was transferred to the team just days before the Mathlete’s mom moved them to Ohio. They spent very little time together, but if Gerdie were to recognize Lisa, our plan would fail,” Brand said.

“Oh, she’s Lisa, now?”

Brand blushed. “Ms. Holiday and I have become … friends.”

“Friends that kiss and hug?”

Matilda could tell the man was uncomfortable. He kept tugging at his collar as if it were strangling him.

“Ms. Holiday sent along a list of tips and a cookie,” he said, shoving them into her hands.

Matilda quickly put the cookie aside. Ms. Holiday was a wonderful lady, but her baking bordered on dangerous. The cookie was as hard as a manhole cover. She opened the letter. “‘Dear Matilda, Here is my best advice for your tryout. First, you have to be positive. No one wants to see a grouchy cheerleader.’”

“She told me to practice smiling with you,” Brand said. “Flash me your best smile.”

Matilda smiled.

Agent Brand cringed.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to look happy when you smile.”

“Well, give me something to smile about.”

“Think about ponies. Girls love ponies, right?”

Matilda frowned. “I don’t.”

“Ribbons?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Doll babies?”

“I’m almost twelve!”

“Then what do you like?”

“Hmm … demolitions, explosions, bonfires,” Matilda said. “I like to watch barroom brawls. I love sports that involve an ax and pretty much anything to do with pro wrestling!”

“I see,” Brand said. “Imagine you and one of these pro wrestlers went to the park. What a beautiful day it is. The sun is shining. There isn’t a cloud in the—”

“And we found some bullies and gave them all head butts! While they were dazed, I climbed up in a tree and leaped onto their heads for a superatomic dog. Then, when they were down, we smashed a steel chair across their backs!”

“Why was there a steel chair in the park?” Brand asked. Then he sighed. “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that you are smiling, but you might want to work on it. I suspect they don’t want a cheerleader who looks like she’s an escaped mental patient.”

Matilda glared and then returned to Ms. Holiday’s list. “‘Second, make eye contact with the judges. They want to feel like you are cheering right to them.’”