The 39 Clues Invasion Read Free Page B

his phone to try one more time. He dialed Atticus, but it went straight to voice mail. Then Dan — the same. He checked his e-mail, his IMs, and even CliqueMe. Nothing. He called the landline, and didn’t even get a ring. Just a woman’s robotic voice telling him the line was out of service.
    I wasn’t supposed to leave him alone , he thought. I promised Astrid I would take care of him while she’s sick. Jake felt sick to his stomach himself.
    Coach was still arguing with the timekeepers and the league officials as Jake turned and slipped into the darkness behind the bleachers. Someone else would have to run his laps tonight. He had to check on his brother.
    “You’re up,” he said as he passed Ranjit, the scrawny freshman who was Jake’s backup in the 800-meter.
    Jake broke out into a sprint as he reached the parking lot. Their house was three-quarters of a mile away, but Jake was already wearing his running shoes.

     
    Dan’s stomach sank as he glanced around the room. A mostly empty box of pizza wasn’t going to stop the massive burglars he’d spotted outside. They looked like contestants from a weight-lifting competition.
    Back at the mansion they had a locker full of weapons and explosives. Amy had insisted that they get equipment to defend themselves from the Vespers, but Uncle Fiske wouldn’t let Dan take any of it out of the house. What was the point of having an arsenal of weapons if you didn’t have one when you were in trouble?
    Dan’s eyes caught the box of paintballs poking out from under Atticus’s bed.
    “If we hide,” he explained, “they’ll just take what they want. If we fight them, they’ll kick our butts. We have to wear them down. Traps, tricks, stuff like that.”
    Atticus jumped up. “It’ll be just like how the Russians beat Napoleon — they couldn’t win an outright battle, so they just kept retreating until the French army was too beat up to fight anymore!”
    “Um, okay. Yeah.” The only thing Dan knew about Napoleon was that the dude hid his hand in his coat whenever people were painting him. Dan used to think that Napoleon was hiding his hand because it had six fingers or maybe a second thumb, but Amy had insisted that it was just the way people posed back then. Leave it to her to turn an awesome mutant general into an art history lesson.
    The drilling continued outside as they made their preparations. Dan was sure the burglars would burst in before they were ready, but the door held as they ran around the house to set their traps. Finally, they were armed: a baseball bat and old hockey helmet for Dan, and a stainless-steel pot “helmet” and a high-powered paintball gun for Atticus.
    All right, Dan thought as he charged down the hall. It’s time for justice. Dan Cahill style. And then he caught a glance of his reflection in the darkened window.
    He didn’t look like a great warrior ready to go into battle. He looked like a kid playing in his backyard. How were two geeky kids supposed to hold off three grown men?
    But it was too late now.
    Dan swung his baseball bat, smashing one of the windows and dislodging the security company’s sensor. The house alarm blared for five seconds before it abruptly went silent.
    “It worked,” Atticus whispered before they split up. “We tripped the alarm! The guy who installed the system guaranteed that police would be here in five minutes.”
    Dan grinned weakly. “Five minutes. We just need to not get killed for five minutes.”

     
    Simeon hadn’t made a mistake. He had the right technique, the right information, and the right tools. But still, the alarm had gone off, and he’d been forced to cut the wires. The house was supposed to be empty, but he’d heard the sound of a window breaking. Someone was in the house. Someone knew he was coming.
    This wasn’t part of the plan, but it was too late now. He’d promised Vesper One that he would acquire the targeted items. And no one failed Vesper One.
    With no need to worry