Operation Sherlock by Bruce Coville Page A

you’re really a robot!”
    â€œYuk, yuk, I’m dying from laughter,” said Rachel. “Get that thing away from me, Ray. I don’t like it.”
    Ray’s eyes lit up. “Would you prefer this?” he asked. Reaching out, he plucked a small chip of metal from the underside of her collar.
    Rachel looked shocked. “What is it?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” said Ray. “But my guess is that you’ve been bugged.”
    Less than a mile from the canteen, the gang’s words were being picked up by a small but sophisticated receiver. The person hunched next to it was frowning. Already unhappy at the turn the conversation had taken, the listener tensed when Ray Gammand said, “My guess is that you’ve been bugged.”
    Instantly a black-gloved fist came crashing down on the receiver. The little device shattered into a thousand pieces—triggering a signal that simultaneously destroyed the transmitter being held by Ray Gammand.
    The code name of this secret listener was Black Glove. It was a name known only to the handful of people in the world who were even aware of the agent’s existence.
    The spy looked down at the remnants of the receiver and made a sound of disgust. With the discovery of the transmitter so carefully placed on Rachel Phillips’s collar, the device had instantly become worthless. That was why it had to be smashed. Black Glove had no tolerance for useless things.
    Moreover, the spy did not underestimate enemies. It seemed unlikely, but not unthinkable , for one of those kids to have some device tucked away in his or her pocket that would have let them trace the bug’s line of transmission.
    A device that would, in effect, have led them straight to this secret room.
    Of course, they could never get into it, but why take unnecessary chances? Planting the bug had been risky enough. Not that they would ever guess whose hand had slipped it onto the girl’s collar. Even so…
    Muttering softly, Black Glove swept the pieces of the receiver off the table and tossed them into a nearby disintegrator, where a bank of laser beams destroyed them.
    Taking a deep breath, the spy eliminated any remaining anger just as efficiently.
    Anger was a waste of time.
    And it was one of the basic rules of espionage that there was always more than one way to skin a cat…
    With a cry of pain “Gamma Ray” Gammand dropped the device he had plucked from Rachel’s collar. It made a brief sizzling noise, then vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving behind nothing but an acrid smell.
    The five young people stared at one another in shock. The moment of silence was followed by a small uproar as each of them began to talk at once.
    â€œAll right!” yelled Roger. “Can it!”
    The group fell silent. Knowing the moment wouldn’t last, Roger began speaking immediately. “To begin with,” he said softly, “let’s get out of here and see if we can find some safe place to talk. If there was a microphone on Rachel, there could be more anywhere: tables, chairs, walls…”
    â€œUs,” added Wendy.
    â€œExactly,” said Roger. “So no more talking until Ray has made a complete sweep with that little circuit detector of his.”
    They left the canteen as a group, ignoring the strange look that the young attendant gave them as they went.
    Because they didn’t know the island well yet, it took them some time to find a place where they felt secure. Finally they settled on a rocky patch of land that thrust a little way into the ocean. Before they continued their discussion, Ray took out his current detector and swept it over each of them. He found no more bugs. Rachel had been the only one “infected.”
    â€œThings are different on an island,” said Wendy, looking out across the water. Of the group, she had spent the most time at the beach. But in California she had had a continent behind her when