The Adventures of Kid Combat Volume One: A Secret Lost by Christopher Helwink

his best
sad face as he approached. I hope this works, he said to
himself.
    “Excuse me, sir,” he said to the guard as he
made puppy-dog eyes.
    “Yes, little boy?” the guard replied,
shifting his black hat higher on his head.
    “My daddy said to meet him in the lobby of
this building, but I was a little late and missed him.” Trying to
help his case, Wedge was even able to produce a few tears. “My
daddy’s going to be so mad at me. He said he had a meeting with Mr.
Jones and wanted me to wait in his office. And now, I don’t know
where to go!”
    “It’s okay, little boy,” the guard said. “I
know where he is. Mr. Jones and the rest of the gentlemen went to
the fourth floor. I’ll take you to them.”
    “No!” Wedge cried out. “I mean, no. It’s
okay. I can find my way. You don’t need to come with me, but thank
you.” He started back toward the elevators. The guard stood there,
apparently buying the charade, and watched Wedge disappear into the
elevator.
    Sucker, Wedge said to himself as he pressed
the button marked 4.
    When he reached the fourth floor, Wedge
darted off the elevator. It appeared to be a floor for employees
only, as there was no reception area. Wedge perched behind a desk
in the foyer. He peeked out to see Jones surrounded by eight to ten
other elderly men, all in business suits. They took turns shaking
Jones’s hand as if he had just returned from war and was a national
hero.
    The men retreated to a conference room
enclosed by glass walls. From ceiling to floor on three sides was
nothing but glass. The glass was crystal clear, except for two
one-inch thick lines that ran down the center of each side. The men
sat around a large circular conference table in the center of the
room. Behind them, the glass doors closed, and Jones’s two
bodyguards stood attention at the door. There was no way to
eavesdrop on this meeting.
    Wedge ducked into an empty office, whose
regular occupant was in the conference room, waiting on Jones hand
and foot. Trying to figure out how to listen in on the meeting,
Wedge drew a blank. He figured it was time to ask Timmy for ideas.
He grabbed his earpiece and quietly radioed his brother.
    “Wedge to Tweedledum. Wedge to Tweedledum. Do
you copy? Over,” Wedge whispered.
    A voice crackled back into his ear. “Why do
you insist on calling me Tweedledum?” Timmy answered.
    Wedge, as loud as he could without being
detected, snapped back. “Would you rather I call you Flower? Now
listen up. Jones is in some sort of a meeting with these guys, and
I can’t make out a thing he’s saying. The room is made of thick
glass walls, and his guards are blocking the door. Any ideas?
Over,” Wedge said.
    “There’s got to be a way. There always is,”
Timmy replied.
    Wedge paused, waiting for more from his
younger brother. Then Wedge said, “You didn’t say, ‘Over.’” He was
really into the spy aspect of his missions and paid attention to
every small detail he saw on TV. Saying over at the end of
transmissions seemed to be important. The actual reason eluded
Wedge, but that didn’t stop him from insisting that his brother use
it. Timmy, on the other hand, wasn’t playing along.
    “What?” Timmy questioned his older
brother.
    “You need to end your transmissions with
‘over,’” Wedge said.
    Timmy was not complying. “Just find a way to
get in there or a way to bug the room, or this will be all
over.”
    “You never want to have any fun. But I’m on
it. Over,” Wedge said and got back to work. Timmy rolled his eyes
and shook his head in disgust. How is he my brother? he said to
himself, pondering the possibility that the hospital made a
mistake.
    In the office, Wedge considered how he could
bug the conference room. There was no way to get near with being
seen, and he assumed the glass would be too thick for any remote
transmitters. Plus, he had to deal with Jones’s bodyguards and
anyone else that happened along. He then thought of another option.
He