Crisis Zero by Chris Rylander Page A

hallways in between classes. See what I mean? How could that kid possibly be an enemy spy? But Danielle insisted that we not overlook any student with a connection to Gomez, and it was true that he was in the principal’s office almost as much as I was. And so here he is on the list.
    6.   Tyrell Alishouse : eighth-grade student. He made the list because he was pretty much a spy already. He’d transferred here after getting expelled from his old school, and had already developed a reputation for being an amateur sleuth. According to kids around school, he was a master of disguise and sneaking around and doing covert surveillance. He’d supposedly already gotten one teacher in trouble when hecaught her on camera smoking behind the school Dumpsters. He once told a kid in my homeroom that he’s only seen when wants to be seen. I mean, any kid who says that sends off immediate red flags for being a possible spy. He seemed like the most obvious name on the list, especially since he was a new kid and could have easily been planted there by Medlock directly. But something inside my gut told me I was wrong. I could tell that he had a strong moral code, even if he was a bit shady.
    Danielle and I split up the list. We each took three names.
    â€œNow, what about investigating Ms. Pullman?” I asked.
    â€œWhy don’t we wait to make a plan until she’s officially started working at school,” Danielle suggested.
    I agreed. Besides, Director Isadoris had made one thing very clear before I’d left Agency HQ that afternoon: The primary objective was tracking down the unknown enemy agent. And so that’s where we’d start, beginning first thing in the morning.
    As long as the morning didn’t start with me getting expelled.

CHAPTER 12
IT’S NEVER THE SWISS
    I DIDN’T GET EXPELLED THE NEXT MORNING.
    At least, not right away—I still had no idea what the rest of the day would bring. First and second period came and went and nobody got called down to the office. The school was still abuzz from the bizarre and exciting events of the day before. But by the start of third period, things had begun feeling normal again. Middle school kind of had a way of sapping the energy and fun out of even the craziest events pretty quickly.
    Third period also brought along the start of my investigation. It made it easy that the first name on my listalso just happened to be my third-period social studies teacher, Mr. Lepsing.
    I should probably mention that at one point during our sixth-grade year, Dillon had been entirely convinced that Mr. Lepsing was a Swiss spy.
    â€œSwiss?” I had said at the time. “Why would Switzerland have a spy in our school? It makes no sense.”
    â€œExactly!” Dillon had said. “Nobody ever suspects the Swiss! Which is precisely how they’re getting away with taking over our government from the inside using brain-control fine chocolates, expensive watches, and rogue sentient bank accounts!”
    I obviously didn’t believe any of that for a second. But since becoming a secret agent I found out that Dillon had been right about way more stuff than I ever would have imagined. And so I figured there was a chance that he had been right about Mr. Lepsing being a spy, even if he wasn’t a Swiss spy.
    I thought I’d start my investigation by showing up to class as early as I could and trying to catch him coming into or out of his supply closet. But he was already seated behind his desk when I arrived.
    Mr. Lepsing was tall and thin. Not just thin, but thin in a way that made you suspect he was really a giantpraying mantis wearing a human skin for a disguise. He was mostly bald, except on the sides where long, brown stringy hair dangled down from his shiny scalp like tentacles. He wore glasses so thick that when he looked right at you, his eyes practically filled his entire face. He always wore skinny ties; sweat-stained button-up shirts;