27
" Unfortunately for Jemma, all of this prevented me from doing what she probably wanted most: simply closing the bathroom door. It now swung all the way open, so that Jemma was still fully visible on the toilet when three more Secret Service agents came charging up the stairs. All of them had their weapons drawn, ready for action. Jemma screamed again, then kicked the bathroom door shut in their faces. The agents now shifted their attention to me, yanking me off the floor and shoving me up against the wall. Several pairs of hands roughly frisked me at once. I tried to explain what had happened, but the first Secret Service agent had knocked the wind out of me when she’d tackled me. All that came out was a wheeze of air. “Miss Stern?” the biggest of the agents called through the bathroom door. “Miss, is everything all right in there?” “No, everything isn’t all right!” Jemma yelled back. “That little pervert walked in on me!” “It was an accident,” I gasped. “She hadn’t locked the door.” “I shouldn’t have to lock the door in my own house!” Jemma cried. “This is the most secure building in the country! I wasn’t expecting a pervert to be on the loose here!” The Secret Service agents all looked at me accusingly. “I’m not a pervert,” I said quickly. “I’m a friend of Jason’s, here to hang out.” This didn’t seem to convince the agents of anything. “I wasn’t informed of any playdate today,” the big agent said. “It’s not a playdate,” I said quickly. “And it was kind of last-minute. Maybe they forgot to tell you.” “Or maybe you’re a pervert who snuck in here to see Jemma Stern on the toilet,” the agent replied suspiciously. The agent who’d tackled me was massaging her back where she’d been gouged by the stuffed eagle. She pounded on Jason’s door and said, “Jason, could you please come out here?” “I’m busy!” Jason shouted back. I figured he had certainly heard all the commotion in the hall but was willfully ignoring it. “It’s a matter of national security,” the wounded agent said. Jason groaned, and then the sound of his video game paused. His footsteps slowly thumped across the floor. “Could you all possibly handle this somewhere else?” Jemma asked through the bathroom door. “I could really use some privacy.” “We’re taking care of this as quickly as we can, miss,” the female agent informed her. “Feel free to go on with your business.” “You have got to be kidding me,” Jemma groaned. "
― Stuart Gibbs , Spy School Secret Service (Spy School, #5)
30
" Everyone get down!” I yelled, pulling free from them and diving behind the president’s secretary’s desk. No one else took cover. My jacket didn’t explode, either. Instead, there was an awkward, excruciating silence. Everyone in the West Wing, including the president of the United States of America, stared at me like I was a moron. I had never been so embarrassed in my entire life. Jason Stern seemed even more mortified than I was, given that I was supposed to be his friend. “Ben has mental problems,” he told everyone. “I’ve only invited him here as an act of charity. You know, to help the deranged.” At which point, the Oval Office exploded. "
― Stuart Gibbs , Spy School Secret Service (Spy School, #5)
31
" Kimmy, who spent most of the time making lame excuses for Jason’s behavior, apparently worried that I might blab to the press that the president’s son was a jerk—or worse, that I’d seen the first daughter’s panties. “Jason has been under a lot of pressure lately,” Kimmy explained weakly. “It’s tough to be a kid when the public is watching you all the time.” “Know what else is tough?” I asked. “Getting falsely accused of being a pervert in front of the Secret Service.” “Er . . . yes,” Kimmy conceded. “I suppose it would be. Would a souvenir White House key chain make you feel better?” “A little,” I admitted. By the time Cyrus arrived fifteen minutes later, I had scored an additional four White House key chains, three White House reusable water bottles, a model of Air Force One, a set of fancy pens with the presidential seal on them, and three dozen packets of official White House jelly beans. "
― Stuart Gibbs , Spy School Secret Service (Spy School, #5)
34
" Hey, hey! Is this my big-shot grandson who got to visit the White House today?” The voice was definitely Cyrus Hale’s—although the tone caught me by surprise. He sounded like an actual doting grandfather, rather than his usual cranky self. I assumed he was acting for the benefit of anyone who might overhear the call—or be eavesdropping on it. “Hi, Grandpa!” I said cheerfully, doing a bit of acting myself. “Are you close?” “Approaching the building right now.” “Okay. I’m coming out.” I hung up and informed Kimmy, “My grandfather’s here.” “Great!” she said, then thought to add, “In the interest of national security, I hope I can trust you to not share certain stories about what transpired here today?” “You don’t have to worry about me,” I assured her. Kimmy heaved a sigh of relief, then ushered me out the door. Cyrus was pulling up in front of the building in a well-worn sedan that looked exactly like the sort of car a normal grandfather would drive. The Secret Service agents were going on alert when Kimmy yelled to them, “He’s okay! He’s just picking up a friend of Jason’s!” Cyrus rolled down the window and shouted, “Hey there, champ! Did you have fun?” “Sure did, Gramps!” I replied, then slid into the passenger seat. Kimmy waved good-bye enthusiastically. “So long, Ben! Hope to see you again soon!” Cyrus rolled up the window, drove away, and immediately dropped the kindly old grandfather act. “You didn’t waste any time screwing up this mission, did you? "
― Stuart Gibbs , Spy School Secret Service (Spy School, #5)
36
" Then she tossed me a small Tupperware container and said, “Spider.” “You think they’re with SPYDER?” I asked, confused. “No,” she said in her standard you’re-an-idiot tone. “Spider. Like arachnid. Use it.” She then grabbed one of the giant squid tentacles, lashed it out like a whip, and took the second government agent down at the knees. She was too busy to handle the third, though. I looked into the Tupperware container she’d given me and finally realized what she meant. There was a gigantic, hairy spider in it. Apparently, Erica had pilfered it from the insect show as we’d gone by. "
― Stuart Gibbs , Spy School Secret Service (Spy School, #5)