Enemy Spy Read Online Free PDF

shaking his head. “Nolan, I had no idea…”

    He was making me feel worse than I already did about having no friends. So I switched the subject. “Thanks for coming here to tell me about my bike, Dad.”
    He focused on me and said, “I didn't actually come here because of that. I came here because… because Sergeant Klubb called me.”
    Uh-oh.
    I tried to act cool. “Oh, yeah?”
    “Apparently he got an e-mail from Shredderman. Sarge wanted to know if I'd made any progress figuring out who he is.”
    Brother. It'd only been half a day. Couldn't any-one give a superhero a break?
    “Nolan?”
    “What, Dad?”
    “You're not denying it? I thought for sure it was some other guy pretending to be you.”
    I shrugged.
    “It
was
you?”
    His lips got tight.
    His eyes got twitchy.
    Finally he whispered, “What do you think you're
doing
?”
    My lips got tight right back.
    I made my eyes into little slits.
    I leaned forward and whispered, “Fighting for truth and justice, like I'm supposed to!”
    We stared each other down for a solid minute. Then he stood and said, “You're coming home.”
    “But—”
    “You're coming home!”
    He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of there. I had my backpack, but he wouldn't even let me get my homework books! He marched me across school, stuck his head in the office door, and called out to Mrs. Holler, “I'm taking Nolan home!”
    “Uh…,”she said, then leaned out the office door, calling, “Wait a minute, Mr. Byrd! Is this for illness, or what?”
    “It's for attitude!”he shouted back at her. Then he hustled me across the street.

Chapter 10
Diabolical Deeds
    “All right,”Dad said when he'd muscled me through our front door. “Show me what you e-mailed to Sarge.”
    I thought about saying no. If he didn't want to help fight for truth and justice, then why should he get to know what I was doing? But I'd never seen my dad this upset before, and I was feeling bad and a little scared. Not of him, but of him not liking me anymore. Maybe I didn't have any friends at school, but at home I had two really good ones.
    Or at least I used to.
    So I led him down to my room.
    There were messages in my Shredderman in-box—one was from [email protected]. Iwas dying to know what Sarge had mailed me, but I clicked on the SENT folder and opened the e-mail I'd sent Sarge instead. “Here,”I said, and let my dad sit down.
    He looked at the pictures and read the words slowly. Out loud. “Why would this guy… Pay this guy… A hundred thousand dollars… For a dozen pages of these? I think you should investigate. And check your snail mail. I'm sending you the classified documents.”He turned to me and asked, “Nolan, who
are
these people you took pictures of? When did you… Where did you…
How
did you…?”He couldn't seem to finish his sentences. But then he practically spit out,
“What
classified documents?”
    “The ones I snail-mailed to Sarge.”
    “The ones you…”
    He took me by the shoulders.
    He looked me square in the eye.
    “Nolan, start from the beginning, and tell me everything.”

    He wasn't looking angry.
    Or even upset.
    He looked worried.
    “It's okay, Dad. They didn't see me! I was getting a drink from the river because I was so, so,
so
thirsty. I'd been lost for hours! I'd been walking, and my backpack was heavy, and I knew Mom would be mad at me, and—”
    “Nolan! The men. Where did you see these men?”
    “At a bridge on the road where I hid my bike. The guy with the trench coat stopped first. I was going to ask him to call you, but he took that boulder out of his car and…”
    “Boulder? What boulder?”
    I took my digital camera out of my backpack, connected it to my computer, and started a slide show for my dad, showing him all the pictures I'd taken of the trench coat guy and the shabby guy, explaining what had happened as I went along.
    When I was done, Dad said, “This is incredible. It sounds like something out of a cartoon. Or a