The Maze of Bones (The 39 Clues #1)(32)

He did. And it was. A second later, they were both at the conference table, staring at the image still flickering on the screen: a white targeting icon hovering over one particular spot in Paris. The address glowed in red letters:

23 Rue des J

ardins.

Dan pointed to a ribbon of blue surrounding the dot. "That's water. Which means that little blob she was targeting must be an island."

"The ?le St-Louis," Amy said. "It's on the Seine River right in the middle of Paris. Can you memorize that address?"

"Already done." Then Dan noticed something else -- a photograph sitting on top of Irina Spasky's files. He picked it up and felt sick to his stomach.

"It's him." Dan showed Amy the photo -- an older man with gray hair and a black suit, crossing the street. The photo was fuzzy, but it must've been taken in Paris. Dan could tell from the yellow stone buildings and the French signs. "The man in black is here."

Amy paled. "But why -- "

A voice came from somewhere down the hall:

" -- j'entends des mouvements. Fouillez le batiment."

Dan didn't need to speak French to know that meant trouble. He and Amy ran the other direction, down another hallway.

"Arretez!" a man yelled behind them. Immediately, alarms started blaring.

"Oh, great!" Amy said.

"This way!" Dan turned a corner. He didn't dare look behind them. He could hear their pursuers getting closer -- boots pounding on the marble floor.

"Bars!" Amy warned.

The building's automatic defenses must have been activated. Right in front of them, a set of metal bars was descending from the ceiling, cutting off the hallway.

"Slide into third!" Dan yelled.

"What?" Amy demanded, glancing back at the security guards. Dan ran forward and hit the ground like it was a waterslide, slipping under the bars. "Come on!"

Amy hesitated. The bars were getting lower -- three feet off the ground, two and a half feet. Behind her, two burly guys in black security guard outfits were closing fast, armed with nightsticks.

"Amy, now!"

She dropped and started crawling under the bars. Dan pulled her through just as the bars clanged against the floor. The security guards grabbed at them through the bars, but Dan and Amy were already running.

They found an open door and ducked into a parlor.

"The window!" Dan said.

A metal mesh curtain was closing over the glass. It was already halfway down. There was no time to think. Dan picked up a bust of Napoleon from the coffee table and threw it through the glass.

CRASH!

He could hear the guards in the hallway shouting over the wail of alarms.

Dan kicked the remaining glass shards away. "Go!" he told Amy. She crawled through and he followed, pulling his left foot out just before the metal curtain clamped against the windowsill.

They ran through the garden, climbed the iron gates, and raced across the street.

They ducked behind the purple ice cream van and slid to the ground, breathing hard.

Dan looked back, but there were no signs of pursuit -- at least, not yet.

"Let's not do that again," Amy said.

Dan's blood was racing. Now that he was out of danger, he realized how much fun he'd just had. "I want an arsenal! And one of those computer-screen tables. Amy, we need to make our own secret headquarters!"

"Oh, sure," Amy said, still breathing hard. She pulled some change and bills out of her pocket. "I've got about two hundred and fifty-three euros left. You think that'll buy a secret headquarters?"

Dan's heart sank. She didn't have to be so mean about it, but she was right. They were burning through their money fast. He didn't have much more than she did.

They'd given most of it to Nellie for travel expenses, but it still wasn't much. If they had to fly somewhere else after Paris ... He decided not to think about it. One thing at a time.

"Let's get back to the Métro," he said.

"Yes," Amy said. "Back to Nellie. She'll be getting worried."

Dan shook his head. "No time, sis. 23 Rue de Jardins. We have to find out what's on that island, and we have to get there before Irina!"

CHAPTER 13

Meanwhile, inside the ice cream van, the Holts were strangling each other.

Madison was on Hamilton's back, hitting him over the head with a box of Fudgesicles.

Their mother, Mary-Todd, was trying to pull them apart. Reagan and Arnold, the pit bull, were playing tug-of-war with a package of Eskimo Pies. Eisenhower, the weary leader of the family, bellowed, "Stop it! Company, FALL IN!"

Hamilton and Madison separated and snapped to attention, dropping the Fudgesicles.

Mary-Todd brushed herself off, glared at her children, then fell into line. Reagan held the Eskimo Pies in present arms stance. Arnold rolled over and played dead.

"Right!" Eisenhower growled. "I will not have this family killing each other over frozen dairy products!"

Reagan said, "But, Dad-"

"Silence! I said you'd get ice cream after we finish the mission. And we are not finished until I get a report!"

Madison saluted. "Dad, permission to report!"

"Go ahead."

"The surveillance microphone worked."