The Hunt for the Missing Spy (3 page)

“Yes, class—and Matthew—the Spy Museum will be a fun part of the trip,” Ms. Stad continued. “But back to our lesson. As you know, spies often communicated in code. And if you know a language that other people around you don't know, you can use it as a code. And knowing some Japanese will come in handy while we're in Washington, D.C. You'll see many signs in Japanese when we visit the Cherry Blossom Festival. That's why I'm going to teach you some Japanese characters.”

“Cool,” a couple of students said.

“Now, for homework . . .” Ms. Stad began.

Several students groaned.

“Your assignment will be to use these Japanese characters to crack a coded message.” She pointed to the markings on the board.

Matt grumbled under his breath. Cody couldn't make out his words—not that she wanted to. She was excited to learn a new code and language. She and the other Code Busters Club members would definitely use it to send secret messages to each other.

“There's no direct translation for the English alphabet,” Ms. Stad said, addressing the class, “but these are the numbers in Japanese from zero to nine.”

Ms. Stad pronounced each word as she pointed to it and the students repeated after her. “
Zero, ichi, ni, san, yon, go, roku, nana, hachi,
and
kyuu
.”

Cody carefully copied down the information from the board, trying to memorize the numbers as she went along. The zero was just a circle, just like in English. Easy-peasy. The number one was a dash—another easy one. The number 2 was made up of two dashes, the bottom one a little longer than the top one. And the number 3 was three dashes. So far they made sense.

The number 4 was a little harder. It looked like a square window made up of four lines, with curtains on either side. Relating the character to something would help her remember.

She counted the lines for the number 5—five!—
then memorized how they were put together—a lower case
h
inside a capital I, like “hI!”

Six looked like a person—head, arms, and two legs. Seven looked like a combination of
L
and
t
. Eight was easy—just two legs. And nine looked like a lower-case
t
and a backward capital
J
together.

The Japanese numbers wouldn't be too hard to memorize. And once she and the Code Busters learned them, they could write down meeting times and other numbers, and keep the information secret from snoops like Matt the Brat. She doubted Matt would bother to learn the lesson, so their messages would be safe from his prying eyes.

“Now,” Ms. Stad said. “Can anyone of you figure out what this means?”

She drew four numbers in Japanese on the board.

Gabriella raised her hand. “One-eight-five-five.”

Ms. Stad nodded. “Those are the right numbers, but what do you think they represent?”

M.E.'s hand shot up. “The year 1855?”

“Very good! Now what was significant about that year?”

A few hands went up but no one got the right answer. Finally Ms. Stad said, “That's the year the first Smithsonian Museum opened. I'll teach you some new words in Japanese every day until we leave for Washington, D.C.,” Ms. Stad announced. “We'll also be learning some acronyms. An acronym is usually formed using the first letters of several words, such as ASAP, which stands for “as soon as possible”, or BFF, which is “best friends forever.” Today we'll start with the acronym FBI Does anyone know what FBI stands for? I'll give you a hint: its headquarters is located in Washington, D.C.”

Cody raised her hand. This was an easy one for her. “Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

“That's right,” Ms. Stad said, “but there's also another meaning. Here's a list of acronyms you can figure out for extra credit homework.”

Ms. Stad passed out a sheet of paper filled with capital letters. Cody looked it over and recognized most of them from texting.

APB

AWOL

BLT

BOLO

BRB

DIY

EMT

FAQ

FYI

LOL

OMW

PBJ

P.I.

S&R

UFO

The bell rang, dismissing the class for the day. “Have a great afternoon, everyone!” Ms. Stad called out as the students began gathering their papers and backpacks. “Remember! Your homework is due tomorrow.”

Cody and M.E. grabbed their backpacks and headed for the flagpole to meet the other Code Busters, Quinn and Luke. The boys were also in the sixth grade but in a different class. They had Mr. Pike.

“Six more days!” Cody announced as she and M.E. caught up with their friends. “I can't wait!”

“Me either,” Quinn said. “I want to see the Washington Monument while we're there. Mr. Pike told us how George Washington used to write coded messages to his soldiers during the Revolutionary War. He gave us a copy of Washington's code. We're
supposed to decipher a message for homework.”

“Cool,” M.E. said. “We learned how to write numbers in Japanese, and we're going to learn some acronyms, like FBI Let's write some codes for each other to solve when we get to the clubhouse.”

As the Code Busters started walking in the direction of the Eucalyptus Forest, where their clubhouse was located, Quinn pulled out something dangling from Cody's backpack. “You almost lost your homework,” he said, handing the paper to her. “It was about to fall out.”

Cody frowned. She glanced at it, then shook her head. “This isn't my homework.” She studied the cartoon drawings on the paper, wondering who had put the paper in her backpack.

After glancing at the artwork, she held up the paper for the others to see. “That's weird. It's just a bunch of random drawings.”

“Maybe it's a coded message,” Luke offered. “Like one of those rebus puzzles.”

“What's it supposed to mean?” M.E. asked.

“I'm not sure,” Cody answered.

“Let me see,” Quinn said. He took the paper and studied it. “I think Luke's right. It looks like some kind of rebus code, where the pictures are supposed to represent words. The first one looks like the Eye of Horus. We learned about that when we went to the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum.”

“Why would someone draw the Eye of Horus?” Luke asked. “We're done studying ancient Egypt.”

Quinn shrugged. “The next one is a clock.”

“Yes, a clock,” Cody said, then added, “or maybe a watch.”

“Sure,” Quinn agreed. “And then there's a sheep. So, we have the Eye of Horus, plus a watch, plus a sheep. And then a welcome sign. But I have no idea what it all means.”

Cody took back the paper. “Okay, the Eye of Horus could just mean
eye
.” She pointed to her eye.

“Or
I
,” added M.E., pointing to herself.

Quinn nodded. “And the watch could mean
time
.”

“Or
watch
,” Cody said, pointing two fingers out from his eyes, the ASL sign for “watch.”

“Okay, we've got ‘I watch . . . ,'” Quinn said, “but what does
sheep
mean?”

“Maybe it's a
ewe
,” M.E. said. “A female sheep.”

Cody's eyes lit up. “Or
ewe
for the word
you
! That means it reads, ‘I watch you.'”

“Like ‘I'm
watching
you,'” Luke said.

“What does the last picture mean?” Luke asked.

“‘Welcome'?” M.E. said. She shrugged. “That makes no sense.”

“Well, at least we figured out most of it,” Quinn said. “Let's work on the rest when we get to the clubhouse.”

Cody read over the message once more before folding it up and putting it in her backpack. Why had someone put that note in her backpack? Was someone trying to scare her? Spy on her? But why? And who could it be?

She only had one clue to go on—whoever drew those pictures was a good artist.

And whoever it was had gotten close enough to her to stuff that paper in her backpack without her noticing.

Too close.

T
he gang soon arrived at their homemade structure hidden among the Eucalyptus trees. After their original secret meeting place had burned down, they'd rebuilt it in the same spot. They'd nailed the walls together using old billboard panels, sealed the corners with duct tape, and covered the top with a camouflage parachute they'd bought at the Army-Navy Surplus Store.

The makeshift door was padlocked on the outside and only the Code Busters had keys. But if one
of the members got to the clubhouse first, he or she could unlock the door and then bolt it from the inside. When the others arrived, they'd have to give the secret knock—their initials in Morse code—and the password—the day of the week said backward, like “yadseut.” There had been a couple of times when intruders had tried to break in, so the locks and bolts and knocks and passwords were definitely necessary.

After the kids removed their backpacks and settled onto the carpet-covered metal floor, they took out their homework assignments. The girls shared their newly learned Japanese numbers with the boys, who copied them into their secret Code Busters notebooks. Then the boys let Cody and M.E. copy the Washington code Mr. Pike had given them.

When they were finished, Quinn pulled out his mini tablet from his backpack and said, “I want to show you guys some cool stuff I found on the Spy Museum webpage.” He typed in the words “International Spy Museum.” When the home page came up, he showed it to the others. “There are hundreds of
spy gadgets to check out when we get there. And you even become a spy when you enter the museum.”

“I know!” Cody said, her face brightening. “I've been reading all about the place.”

M.E. frowned. “You mean you get to be a real spy?”

Quinn shook his head. “No, it's just a game. But you get a code name and a dossier to fill out. You create your fake background—where you were born and how old you are. Then you have to memorize your ‘cover.' That's your new identity. When you go through the museum, fake spies ask you questions about your secret identity.”