In the fifth book in the New York Times bestselling Spy School series, Ben goes undercover in the White House to take on a SPYDER operative determined to assassinate the president.
Thirteen-year-old Ben Ripley has had a lot of field success despite only just beginning his second year at Spy School, something even graduates rarely experience. But he’d never have survived without the help from experienced agents and his friends. Now he’s been called in on a solo mission—and the fate of the United States of America is on his shoulders alone.
The mission: Prevent a presidential assassination by infiltrating the White House and locating the enemy operative.
And when everything goes wrong, Ben must rely on his spy school friends to save his reputation…but even friends can double-cross or be swayed to the enemy’s side.
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Stuart Gibbs is the author of five New York Times bestselling series: Spy School, FunJungle, Moon Base Alpha, Charlie Thorne, and Once Upon a Tim—as well as the new nonfiction series Spy School Secret Files. He has written screenplays, worked on a whole bunch of animated films, developed TV shows, been a newspaper columnist, and researched capybaras. Stuart lives with his family in Los Angeles. You can learn more about what he’s up to at StuartGibbs.com.
In the fifth book in the New York Times bestselling Spy School series, Ben goes undercover in the White House to take on a SPYDER operative determined to assassinate the president.
Thirteen-year-old Ben Ripley has had a lot of field success despite only just beginning his second year at Spy School, something even graduates rarely experience. But he’d never have survived without the help from experienced agents and his friends. Now he’s been called in on a solo mission―and the fate of the United States of America is on his shoulders alone.
The mission: Prevent a presidential assassination by infiltrating the White House and locating the enemy operative.
And when everything goes wrong, Ben must rely on his spy school friends to save his reputation…but even friends can double-cross or be swayed to the enemy’s side.
Chapter 1: Resurgence
1 RESURGENCE
Vandenberg Library
Nathan Hale Building
CIA Academy of Espionage
February 10
1500 hours
“SPYDER is back!”
Zoe Zibbell’s exclamation rang out through the spy school library. In her excitement, Zoe had spoken a bit too loudly—and since we were in the library, it was quieter than any other place on campus. The cavernous room was four stories tall, ringed by three mezzanines on which thousands of books were shelved. Zoe’s words seemed to echo off every last one of them: “SPYDER is back… SPYDER is back… SPYDER is back….”
Zoe winced, realizing her announcement had been a lot more public than she’d intended. Then she quickly sat down at the table where she had just interrupted my homework.
The library was far more crowded than usual. On most afternoons, my fellow students and I would have probably been studying in the school dormitory, but on that day the freshmen had their first homework assignment in Introduction to Explosives: Each was assigned to defuse a small bomb. The bombs weren’t supposed to be strong enough to level a building, but where explosives were concerned, things could always go wrong, so it made sense to play it safe and steer clear of the dorm. More than a hundred students, ranging from second to seventh years, were hunched over tables throughout the library. They all tried to act like they weren’t interested in Zoe, as we’d learned in Intermediate Clandestine Observation: Seeing Without Being Seen, but I could tell they were desperate to hear more.
Until recently, SPYDER’s existence had been extremely classified: Only a few highly ranked people at the CIA had known about the evil organization. But in the past year, SPYDER had caused some major trouble, like trying to blow up the very building I sat in, attacking a busload of students near the school’s wilderness training facility, and attempting to destroy a large portion of Manhattan. After that there was no hope of keeping SPYDER confidential at the Academy of Espionage. Everyone there was training to be a spy; it was their job to know things. Almost all of them had sussed out the truth by now.
I made no attempt to hide my own interest in Zoe’s news. SPYDER had attempted to recruit me twice—and then tried to kill me when I’d refused—so I had a vested interest in knowing what they were up to. I looked up from my cryptography homework and asked, “How do you know?”
Zoe slid into a seat across the table from me and whispered, “Chameleon and I overheard. We were doing our eavesdropping project for Advanced Covert Ops, and we figured the higher-placed our target, the better our grade would be. So we went after the Idiot.”
Zoe was into nicknames. Chameleon was Warren Reeves, who excelled at camouflage (but was lacking in most other spy skills). The Idiot was our school principal, who was an idiot. A big one.
“And you pulled it off?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Despite her worried state, Zoe flashed a proud smile. “We slipped two X-class wireless transmission bugs into his office last night.”
“His office?” I repeated, impressed. The principal wasn’t an easy target. True, he wasn’t a very intelligent person—his job was basically to handle paperwork and administrative issues that no one else wanted to—but the CIA knew he wasn’t intelligent, so he had far more security around him than a capable person would have required. His office was on the top floor of the building we were in, five floors above us, and entry to it was protected by an advanced network of cameras and armed guards. “How’d you get past all the security?”
“I distracted the guards while Chameleon did the infiltration.”
“And he did it without any problems?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because Warren’s a lousy spy. The last time he tried to infiltrate a room, he got stuck in the air vent. We had to call the fire department to get him out.”
Zoe frowned. “Chameleon’s been working hard to improve his skills lately.”
“That doesn’t mean they’ve actually gotten better.”
“Yes, they have,” snapped a nasal voice behind me.
I wheeled around to find Warren standing three feet away. Although if he hadn’t spoken, I might not have noticed him. His camouflage was even better than usual. He was wearing a set of clothes and face paint that exactly matched the ancient oak furniture of the Hale Building, allowing him to blend in perfectly at the end of a row of shelves.
I wasn’t the only one who’d failed to notice him. Most of the nearby students were caught by surprise as well. A fourth-year girl who’d been pretending to browse the books behind us while furtively listening to our conversation was so startled by Warren’s sudden appearance that she yelped in fear and dropped a heavy volume of Caldwell’s Pictorial Guide to Poisons and Antidotes on her foot.
Warren sat down beside me, gloating smugly. This was disconcerting, as he’d done such a good job with the face paint that he didn’t really look human. Instead, it was like sitting next to an extremely obnoxious ventriloquist’s dummy. “You’re no better a spy than I am,” he declared. “The only reason you’ve had all these missions is that you’ve just been lucky enough to have SPYDER attack you.”
“I wouldn’t exactly consider that lucky,” I said.
“Whatever. The point is, if I’d been there, I could have saved the day instead of you.”
“Chameleon, you were there,” Zoe pointed out. “And you didn’t save the day. In fact, you nearly killed Ben by accident. Twice.”
Warren recoiled like a puppy who’d been caught piddling on the carpet, the way he always did when Zoe hurt his feelings. While Zoe was developing into a very good spy, she somehow remained completely oblivious to the fact that Warren had a massive crush on her.
“Hold on,” I said to Zoe. “Did you say you infiltrated the principal’s office last night?”
“That’s right,” Zoe replied.
I looked back at Warren. “Then why are you still camouflaged?”
“The paint won’t wash off,” Warren said morosely. He looked as though he might have turned red if he hadn’t been painted brown. “I couldn’t get the perfect oaken tone with standard face paint, so I had to use wood stain instead. Now I can’t remove it.”
Zoe snickered despite herself.
“It’s not funny!” Warren whined. “Today in self-defense class, Professor Simon mistook me for a table and set a book on my head.”
Zoe laughed even harder.
“We’re getting off track,” I reminded her. “What’d you hear in the principal’s office?”
“Oh, right.” Zoe returned her attention to me while Warren sulked. “We’ve been monitoring the bugs ever since we placed them last night, but we didn’t pick up any intel until just now.”
“Was the principal out of the office...
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