Mission: Lullaby Read online

  “Look out,” said Fangs in a mocking tone. “Assault with a deadly sausage at three o’clock.”

  Doris carefully placed one sausage on each of our plates.

  “Would it be possible to get an egg with that?” asked Fangs. “And some toast, if you don’t mind.”

  Doris glared at him. “I haven’t got time to waste making fancy breakfasts for the likes of you,” she snapped. “Especially not dressed like that! I’ve got a bed and breakfast to run.”

  “Derek…” I said as Fangs pushed his sausage around his plate with a fork. “Have you ever sung to your mum?”

  Derek blushed beneath his mask. “No, of course not.”

  “Well, why don’t you try it now?”

  It took a few moments for my idea to sink in, but eventually Derek smiled and began to sing Zombie Feasting Time in a soft, melodic voice.

  “When I invite you round to dinner, I just know that you’ll get thinner, You’re losing precious pounds each passing course…”

  The effect was instant. Doris sank to the floor, sound asleep!

  Derek placed a cushion under her head and smiled down at her as she snored softly. “Sleeping beauty,” he sighed.

  Fangs pulled a face. “Well, sleeping, anyway… Now what say we upgrade this breakfast?”

  Twenty minutes later, the three of us were tucking into a breakfast fit for a king: bacon, eggs, sausages, black pudding, tomatoes, mushrooms and more, all accompanied by a huge pot of tea. Doris was still sleeping happily on the carpet next to the sideboard, thanks to Derek keeping up the verses of his song in between mouthfuls of bacon and egg.

  “Well,” said Derek through a jawful of fried bread. “Now what?”

  “Now we do something that will attract the attention of GLOVE,” I said.

  “But we can’t just go out singing on the street and taking people’s wallets once they’re asleep,” said Fangs. “That would be like busking for pennies. We need to go for something big.”

  I grinned. “I think I’ve got an idea…”

  Thursday 0937 hours: National Bank, Blackpool, UK

  We stepped out of the bright morning sun and into the cool, air-conditioned building of one of the town’s busiest banks. Derek took one look at the queue of customers and the cashiers serving them, and froze.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “There are so many people here,” said Derek, clearly nervous. “What if they recognize us?”

  Fangs tugged at the mask Derek had given him. “With these great disguises? No chance.”

  “But what if we get caught?”

  “Doing what?” I asked. “All you’re going to do is sing the customers and staff a little song. Fangs and I will do the rest. We are your henchmen, after all.”

  “You can’t back out now,” said Fangs. “You want your mum to be proud of you for making something of yourself, don’t you?”

  Derek nodded. He took a deep breath, and began to sing…

  “I’ll bite your spleen and sup your bile,

  Chew your kidneys for a while,

  Still got your appendix? Baby, pass the sauce…”

  One by one, the customers began to wobble, then their eyes fluttered closed and they sank to the floor, sound asleep. It took a few seconds longer for Derek’s hypnotic voice to reach the cashiers on the other side of their glass screens but before long, they too were happily dozing on their desks.

  I gestured for Derek to continue singing. We didn’t want people waking up in the middle of our robbery. I pulled the Smartphone Cube had given me from my pocket and launched an app that would give me the electronic combinations for the locked doors that separated the cashiers from the rest of the bank.

  Once they were open, we left Derek singing while Fangs pulled a black plastic bag out of his pocket and began to scoop handfuls of money from the cashier’s drawers into it. I turned my attention to the bank’s safe. After pressing one of my werewolf ears against the door, I turned the lock until I heard the clicks and whirrs which meant the steel rods inside were drawing back, one at a time.

  If we weren’t so thoroughly on the side of good, Fangs and I might have made a successful pair of bank robbers!

  There was a final SLAM! as the safe door unlocked. I swung it open to reveal stacks and stacks of money inside. There had to be over a million pounds here. This was sure to get us noticed by—

  A leather glove clamped down over my mouth and the world turned black.

  Thursday 1552 hours: GLOVE HQ, Location Unknown

  I woke to the rancid taste of chloroform in my mouth. I’d been knocked out!

  I tried to sit up, only to discover that my arms and legs wouldn’t move. I twisted my head to the side and found that I was flat on my back and strapped to a table. Fangs was similarly fixed to a table beside me – but he wasn’t awake yet. I began to study my surroundings in an effort to work out where we were.

  We were in a large, square room with a circular window in the centre of each wall. The glass was cloudy, so I couldn’t see out to get my bearings, but my sensitive werewolf ears were able to pick up the sound of heavy traffic. It was likely we were in a major town or city.

  The ceiling rose high above us, and there was something circular up there. Not a window but some sort of opening. Chains snaked away from it to end at huge cogs and wheels that clicked and turned at a slow but regular pace.

  CLUNK!

  Could we be inside the belly of some incredible machine?

  “No… I don’t wanna wear the ballet shoes, Mum… The other vampires laugh at me…”

  Fangs was starting to come round.

  His head lolled from side to side and he was muttering to himself. “Hey … that’s my tutu! Get your own.”

  “Fangs,” I hissed. “FANGS!”

  “Wha– Wassa?” My boss’s eyes flickered open and he turned towards me, struggling to focus. “Puppy?”

  “It’s me, boss,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

  Fangs groaned. “Like someone’s been dancing inside my head.”

  “You mean like ballet dancing?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  Fangs tried to move and failed. Then he blinked hard and looked around the room. “Where did the bank go?”

  “We were drugged,” I said. “Chloroform.”

  “That explains why my mouth tastes like a pair of zombie’s underpants,” Fangs moaned. “Where are we now?”

  “I could tell you exactly where you are,” cried a tiny, high-pitched voice. “If I wanted to!”

  “Shh,” said Fangs. “Did you hear that? A kind of squeaking noise? I think there may be a mouse in here.”

  “No, it’s not a mouse,” the voice said.

  “There it is again! And it sounded like it was trying to talk that time.”

  There was a click!, and both our tables began to tilt, dropping us, feet first, until we were at a 45-degree angle. We were facing a large throne, silhouetted against one of the round windows.

  CLUNK!

  The machinery above us turned again.

  “I must thank you for all your hard work,” said the throne. No – there was something, or someone, sitting on it, although I couldn’t see against the window’s glare.

  “Puppy,” hissed Fangs. “I think I’m still suffering from the effects of the chloroform. The mouse just thanked us.”

  “I am NOT a mouse!”

  A row of spotlights above the throne burst into life. For the first time, we could see who was talking. It was a leprechaun dressed in a green suit and hat. Shaggy red hair spilled out from under the hat’s brim. It matched the beard that jutted from the creature’s pointed chin. I’d met several leprechauns during my time as a supernatural spy, but never one so tiny. He was standing on the seat of his luxurious chair, but didn't even reach over its arms.

  “The name’s Enigma,” said my boss. “Fangs Enigma. Who are you?”

  “I am the head of GLOVE,” squeaked the lepr
echaun. “You may call me Mr Big.”

  Fangs erupted into laughter. “Mr Big? Hahahaha! I’ve picked things out of my nose that were bigger than you.”

  With a tiny howl of rage, Mr Big leapt down from his throne and ran towards us. It took a little while for him to reach us but when he did, he used the leather straps to help him climb onto Fangs’s table. Then he strode confidently across Fangs’s body to his chest and glared down at him.

  “I would not advise such insolence in your position,” the leprechaun said. “I am more dangerous than you think.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” said Fangs. “It would be quite easy to get something your size lodged in your throat and choke.”

  Mr Big screamed and slapped Fangs across the cheek with his miniature hand. It didn’t leave a mark. “Perhaps you will be more impressed when you learn my real name,” he growled. “I am Toby Shore.”

  I gasped. “The Dublin Dodger! You’re the most wanted fugitive in Ireland – the only villain who can pick pockets from the inside.” No wonder I hadn’t recognized the villain when he first appeared. Toby Shore had never been captured in a photograph before. He was just too small.

  “The very same,” said Toby, taking a bow. “Although I have now moved my operations to a new location.”

  “Where are we?” demanded Fangs.

  “You’ll never guess.”

  CLUNK!

  BONG!

  It was the loudest noise I had ever heard in my life!

  BONG!

  Pain shot through my ears and stabbed daggers into my brain.

  BONG!

  I ground my teeth together to try to stop them from rattling.

  BONG!

  The noise was coming from that grey circle hanging from the ceiling. My eyes were watering so much that I found it difficult to focus on the shape… And then I knew where we were.

  “We’re inside the Elizabeth Tower,” I cried. “The tower that houses Big Ben! That’s the bell up there.”

  “But that means we’re back in London,” exclaimed Fangs. “Right across the river from MP1.”

  “Oh, all right. You can guess where we are,” yelled Toby. “You still can’t do anything to me.”

  “I can do anything I want,” growled Fangs. “We’re disavowed, which means we don’t have to abide by the rules of MP1. When I get out of here—”

  “Oh, please,” the leprechaun said. “You haven’t really been disavowed. It’s all a pathetic trick to convince Derek Dopper to work with you.”

  “How could you know that?” I asked.

  The leprechaun laughed. “I’ve been following you ever since I left the fake bomb under the Speaker’s chair in the Houses of Parliament.”

  “And you’re small enough to get inside the mayor’s house and Buckingham Palace. You could then open a door or window for one of your goons to leave a glove behind,” I said.

  “Don’t forget MP1 HQ.” Toby smiled. “In fact, I was still inside Phlem’s desk drawer when he showed you his glove.”

  "So there isn't a spy at MP1," I cried. "It was all you."

  “OK,” said Fangs. “We get it. You’re tiny, and you know our cover story. That doesn’t mean you can do anything about it.”

  “I don’t need to do anything,” said Toby. “It’s happening already. As we speak, my fellow GLOVE members are gathering in the rose garden behind Ten Downing Street. It’s going to be quite a concert.”

  “Concert?” I asked. “What concert?”

  “We were planning to rob a few banks together but, thanks to you, GLOVE can now do so much more! Your friend Derek is going to visit Number Ten to sing the prime minister and all his staff to sleep,” the leprechaun explained. “Then we can help ourselves to anything we want belonging to his government. Money, armies, and state secrets! Anything.”

  “You must be out of your tiny mind,” Fangs said.

  Toby’s cheeks flushed as red as his beard. “SILENCE!” He ran back down Fangs’s body and leapt off the table. After a moment, I could hear the sound of something heavy scraping over the stone ground behind us. I strained my neck and was surprised to see the leprechaun dragging a pot of gold across the room.

  “By this time tomorrow, we shall have everything we desire – and you two gave us the means to do it.”

  “But why?” I asked. “You don’t need the money, not with a stash of gold like that.”

  Toby emerged from beneath Fangs’s table and smiled. “Oh, that’s not spending gold,” he said. “That’s magic gold! Watch…” He clicked his fingers and a rainbow of light poured in through the clock face opposite us and arched towards the pot. But this was no ordinary rainbow. It began to burn into the end of the table between my boss’s legs, and to slowly creep up towards his body.

  “I’m afraid I have to split now,” said Toby. “But then you’ll be doing much the same in a few minutes’ time, Agent Enigma.”

  The rainbow had burned up the table to knee level now. Multi-coloured sparks began to rain down over Fangs’s body.

  “You’re insane!” Fangs shrieked.

  “Goodbye, Fangs Enigma.”

  Then, with the tiniest of evil laughs, the leprechaun was gone.

  Thursday 1611 hours: GLOVE HQ, Big Ben, London, UK

  “This is bad!” cried Fangs as the rainbow cut higher and higher into the table beneath him. “I’m going to end up half the vampire I used to be.”

  I stretched my neck out as far as I could and blew on the coloured flames, but it had no effect. “There’s nothing I can do, boss,” I said. “The end of the rainbow is forcing its way to the pot of gold.”

  “Which is where?”

  I glanced beneath Fangs’s table. “Right below your head.” I pulled and pulled against the straps holding my wrists down, trying to break free – even if I couldn’t save Fangs, I wanted to hold his hand, at least. But it was no good. I was bound too tightly. “Thanks for everything, boss,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “It’s been brilliant.”

  “Better than that, Puppy.” Fangs winked at me. “It’s been fang-tastic.”

  Then the door burst open and we turned our heads to see … Phlem’s secretary, Miss Bile!

  “What are you doing here?” Fangs cried.

  “SHAVING YOU!” screeched the banshee.

  “I’m not sure this is the best time for a shave, actually,” Fangs said.

  “She means she’s here to save us,” I said. “Quick, Miss Bile, slide the pot of gold out from beneath Fangs.”

  The banshee moved faster than I imagined anyone her age could. She sprinted across the room and dived beneath Fangs’s table. I heard the pot slide across the floor and the rainbow changed direction. And not a moment too soon – Fangs's trousers had begun to sizzle!

  “Colour me impressed,” sighed Fangs, slumping back against the table.

  While my boss caught his breath, Miss Bile fished a pair of nail scissors from her handbag and began to cut through the leather straps binding my wrists and ankles.

  “How did you know we were here?” I asked.

  The crone blushed. “I SHNUCK A TRACKING DEVISHE IN FANGSH’S CLOAK WHEN I HEARD PHLEM WAS SHACKING YOU. I COULDN’T LET MY SHWEETHEART JUSHT WALK OUT OF MY LIFE.”

  Finally, my wrists were free and I sat up to help Miss Bile unstrap my feet.

  “Look out! Behind you!" cried Fangs.

  An imp, dressed all in black, was running across the room towards us. It must have been one of Mr Big’s goons. I was still fastened to the table by one of my ankles, so I couldn't move. Miss Bile swung out with her handbag, hitting the henchman square in the face and knocking him out cold with a CLANG!

  “What have you got in there?” I asked.

  Miss Bile shrugged and pulled out a large stapler. “I KEEP OFFICE SHTATIONERY WITH ME AT ALL TIMESH IN CASHE I FIND SHOMETHING THAT NEEDSH FILING.”

  I could hear footsteps climbing the stairs outside the clock room – more henchmen! As soon as I was free of my bonds, I hurried to slam a
nd lock the door while Miss Bile untied Fangs.

  “Sounds like there are more of Shore’s goons out there,” I said. “And it’s the only way down.”

  “One thing you should know about situations like this, Puppy, is that there’s always another way down.” Fangs grabbed one of the metal chains that hung from the ceiling.

  I glanced from my boss to the clock face and back again. “You don’t mean…?”

  Fangs’s eyes sparkled behind his sunglasses. “You betcha.” He grinned as he threw identical lengths of chain to Miss Bile and me.

  So as a horde of evil imps tried to break down the door, Fangs, Miss Bile and I wrapped the chains tightly around our waists. Then we ran at the glass clock face and jumped straight through it.

  We slammed against the outside of the tower a few metres below the number six on the clock — just as the door gave way in the room above. We’d each have some bruises to show for our actions, but that was the least of our worries.

  “Breezy up here, isn’t it?” cried Fangs.

  “Breezy” was a bit of an understatement. The wind blew hard against my fur, and I was forced to plunge my claws into the brick to ensure I stayed in one place. I glanced over my shoulder, and found that I could see across Parliament Square and along Whitehall to Downing Street itself. Toby Shore could already be there, convincing Derek to put everyone in the government to sleep.

  A dozen or more tiny faces appeared through the broken glass above us. We had to go now.