“Do you have the files?” Chloe asked.

“Some of them. The downloading process wasn’t complete.”

Besides, even assuming that the information we needed was in the files I’d managed to download, Infotech’s system was still up and running, and that meant that my job here wasn’t done. I’d been given three very specific instructions, and so far, all I’d done was locate the program and begin downloading the files.

I still had to crash their system.

ACCESS GRANTED.

“Was that a happy beep?” Bubbles asked cautiously.

“Back door,” I said. “A second way in. I created it when I was controlling the system. If they’re looking for me, they’ll find it sooner or later, but it should give me enough time to boggle their files, insert a couple of viruses, and convince their programs they want to stealthily self-destruct if anyone tries to access them.”

The twins said something in response to my words, but I barely heard them. I searched my laptop for programs that would wreak a suitable amount of havoc on the Infotech system. Given more time, I could have come up with something a little more elegant, but the program I’d located would eat their system from the inside out, and if they tried to transfer any data at all, they’d just end up transferring the virus, which would devour any hard drive it came in contact with.

DOWNLOAD COMPLETE.

If the Squad’s technology hadn’t been remarkably fast, I might not have finished in time.

If the programs I was working with hadn’t been written by someone almost as good as I was, I might not have finished in time.

If I hadn’t been totally and completely, one-hundred percent brilliant, I might not have finished in time.

NO WIRELESS NETWORK AVAILABLE.

This was it—no more back doors, no Plan C. They’d turned off the wireless network. All of the hacking in the world wouldn’t get me back into those files.

Luckily, that didn’t matter.

“Done,” I said, as out of breath as a marathon runner after the last leg of a race. “We’ve got everything they’ve got, including a copy of what I’m about ninety-nine percent sure is the application they were using to assist with their hacks, and in about another hour or so, their system will be technological dog meat.”

Chloe’s facial expression never changed, but her body shed just enough tension that I considered the possibility that the stick typically wedged in her butt might have been dislodged.

“Well,” Chloe said, putting the car into drive and tearing back onto the road, causing my head to come dangerously close to rethunking itself on the window to my left. “Maybe you’re not a complete imbecile after all.” She shifted lanes, and I held on for dear life. “Now that we’ve shut down the leak, we should be in the clear to send these files on to the Big Guys. They’ll put a team on it and find what we’re looking for ASAP.”

As much as I hated handing over the files, I was drained, and decided that a little manpower never hurt anyone.

Of course, the entire question of whether or not my pride should have been insulted by the idea of getting help from the Big Guys was going to be moot if Chloe’s driving managed to kill us all before we got back to school.

As Chloe “merged” onto the highway, there was a moment of silence in the car. I, for one, was praying for my survival, as some people who shall remain nameless seemed to think merge meant “cause other cars to start swerving.” The twins were probably thinking synchronized thoughts about lip gloss. Lucy was in all likelihood in perky perfectionist overdrive—either doing mental herkies or thinking up new flavors of explosive chewing gum. Chloe was concentrating on her need for speed, and Bubbles…

Bubbles was doing the freaky pretzel thing again.

After having seen Brittany, Tiffany, and even Lucy in action, I didn’t view Bubbles’ freakish stretching the same way. Was it twisted that all I could think was that if we ever needed someone to hide in a kitchen cabinet or ride in the overhead baggage compartment on an airplane, she’d be our girl?

“Toby.”

Brittany’s voice was murderous, and I turned a wary glance her way.

“I know you have to do the hacking stuff and everything, but do you have to hit the keys so hard?” she asked, her eyes narrowed into slits. “You totally chipped your nails.”

Tiffany, ever the kinder of the two, reached over to pat me consolingly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll fix them for you when we get back.”

Like hell, I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud. Evil or not, cheerleaders or not, I thought that just this once, I’d give the fashionista two a break.

CHAPTER 25

Code Word: Stud

By the time Chloe pulled a sharp right into a parking spot in front of the school, I had only two thoughts on my mind.

The first was that miraculously, we’d all survived.

The second was that if I could get twenty minutes alone with the laptop, I might be able to figure something out before we handed the data off.

Unfortunately, Chloe had other plans. Without my realizing it, she had managed to lift the laptop from the backseat. All that lovely encryption was now in her possession, not mine.

Double unfortunately, however, what with the sizeable drive to and from Infotech, the amount of time it had taken the twins to pull off the Doublemint, the time I’d spent hacking, and the half hour that I had been informed it would take to redo my nails, it didn’t look like I was going to be getting much rest in before lunch.

I half expected the others to go their separate ways when we got back, but instead, Bubbles and Lucy followed me to the twins’ salon, chattering happily away about some topic of conversation that I couldn’t quite follow. Chloe didn’t join us—she was too busy orchestrating a drop-off of the information on the laptop and coordinating our afternoon mission, which Lucy randomly decided to name “Operation Playboy.”

“Why is it that evil guys are always so hot?” Tiffany wondered out loud as she focused on the index finger on my right hand.

“Tell me about it,” Brittany said, buffing one of the nails on my left hand. “Heath Shannon? Hot. That guy we had to take out who’d stolen that nuclear laser thing? So hot.”

“And Jack Peyton?” Tiffany continued.

“Hot.” I surprised myself by finishing Tiffany’s train of thought. Had I really just said that out loud? More importantly, since when had I become the type of girl who gossiped about the hotness of boys?

And was Jack Peyton, he of the ironically detached smirk, really evil?

“Jack isn’t evil per se,” Tara said, coming into the room just in time to answer my unasked question, and save me from the mortification of the others commenting on my slip of tongue. “He can hardly help who his father is.”

“Okay,” Brittany agreed affably. “So maybe he isn’t evil, but he could be evil someday. And he is hot. Even Toby thinks so.”

And that was my cue to leave. Except, unfortunately, each twin had me by one hand, and neither of them was done with the buff, polish, repair routine they had their hearts set on.

I had no choice but to change the subject—and fast. “How goes the party planning?” I asked April and Tara. It wasn’t exactly a deep question, but it worked.

“We managed to get Rocksha to DJ, and April found a great caterer,” Tara said.

“Caterer? DJ?”

April shrugged. “Major party.”

“So no cheap beer in sketchy kegs?” I asked.

Tara leaned over and tweaked my ponytail. “Toby, it’s a high school party. There’s always beer in sketchy kegs. It will probably just be very expensive beer.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose.

“Not a fan of beer?” I asked her.

“No,” she said. “It doesn’t ignite as well as vodka.”

It didn’t surprise me that when Lucy thought about alcohol, her main concern was flammability. For some reason, I couldn’t see her as much of a drinker of anything stronger than orange soda.

“Done!”

“Done!”

The twins finished one after another, and finally, my hands were my own again.