Thunder Raker (4 page)

“That was very good, Alfie,” Miss Jones said as she handed back his homework the next morning. “In fact, yours was the only plan that the Homework Analysis Team gave a 90% chance of success.”

“What did you do?” Jack wanted to know. “I only got a 45% chance of success. I never heard of anyone getting 90%.”

“Did you pole vault over the electric fences?” Sam wanted to know.

“Stun the guard dogs with an electric shock gun you invented yourself?” Beth asked.

“Maybe he dug a tunnel,” Alice suggested. “I did.”

“No,” Chloe told them, “a powered hangglider with sat-nav is best. My dad bought me one the other week. Bet you didn't think of that,” she told Alfie.

“I just shot all the guards and blew up the place,” Harry said glumly. “HAT said that didn't fulfil the Mission Brief because I didn't get hold of the vital plans. Only gave me 10%.”

“So come on,” Jack said, “how did you do it?”

Alfie shrugged, embarrassed by all the attention. “I pretended to be a postman bringing the letters. Special delivery to be signed for by the chief scientist. That way they'd send me to the lab where I could sabotage the systems.”

“And the plans?” Harry asked. “They'd search you on the way out.”

“Put them in an envelope addressed to myself and left it in the letter tray to be sent out.”

There was a long silence. Then Beth said:
“That's brilliant!” and Sam laughed and clapped.

Everyone else agreed, except Chloe who told them that the HAT assessors must have muddled up the papers and got Alfie's confused with hers.

“I still think my plan would have worked too,” Jack muttered.

“It must have taken you all evening,” Miss Jones said as she tried to settle Class 3D down again.

“Not really,” Alfie said. “I still had time to find out where the missing satellite landed.”

Mr Trenchard regarded Alfie through his spectacles. For once he didn't seem to need reminding of what was going on.

“Alfie,” he said. “Settled in OK, I hope?”

“Yes, thank you, sir.”

“Excellent. Wouldn't want any complaints getting back to…” Mr Trenchard leaned meaningfully across the table. “You-Know-Who,” he whispered.

“No, I don't, actually,” Alfie said.

But Mr Trenchard ignored this. “Now, Miss Smith—or is it Jones? Well, whoever it was has told me you know where this satellite thingy is.”

“That's right. You see, my dad was talking to Mr Rogers in Willow Lane, and he said that Mrs Sykes had heard from the Oyanbanji boys that Mrs Green in the shop said old Mr Phillips got a dreadful fright the other night when something fell out of the sky.”

Alfie had said all this in a rush and he didn't expect Mr Trenchard to follow, but to
his surprise the Head Teacher nodded. “And did this Willow Lane character say what it was that fell from the sky?”

“Er, well,” Alfie explained, “Dad spoke to old Mr Phillips and he said that yes he'd had a fright because a shooting star almost fell on him, and his dog ran off, and talking to Edward Hogsmouth he thought—

Mr Hogsmouth, not the dog—that it landed somewhere in Mrs Prendergast's back garden.”

“I see.” Mr Trenchard took off his glasses and polished them furiously on a grubby handkerchief. “Your dad's got quite a network of informers.”

“They're just people who live nearby.”

Mr Trenchard winked. “Course they are. So we reckon this satellite is in Mrs Prendergast's garden?”

“Yes,” said Alfie.

“Thank goodness no one knows about it.”

“Apart from old Mr Phillips,” said Alfie.

“Well, yes, obviously.”

“And Mrs Hogsmouth,” Alfie added. “Oh and Mrs Green and the Oyanbanji boys and
Mr Rogers and Mrs Sykes. And Dad of course. And the dog.”

“And this Willow fellow. But thank goodness no one
else
knows it's in this lady's garden. Where is the garden, by the way?”

“It's the one where the men in black overalls and dark glasses hide to keep watch on the school,” said Alfie.

Mr Trenchard leaped to his feet. “Spies? Keeping watch on the school? They must be SPUD agents!”

“I don't know. Mrs Prendergast takes them cups of tea.”

Mr Trenchard sniffed. “Consorting with the
enemy,” he said darkly. Then he looked up suddenly. “Wait a minute. These SPUD agents—how often do they watch the school?”

“Every morning,” said Alfie. “They use binoculars.”

“Then maybe they have the satellite already. It's right under their noses.”

Alfie shook his head. “I don't think so. They were still hiding and drinking tea this morning. One of them had a rich tea finger.”

The Head Teacher nodded and steepled his fingers. “Excellent. Now then, Alfie, what's your plan for recovering the satellite?”

Alfie was surprised. “
My
plan?”

“You found the satellite, you know all about the SPUD agents and this collaborator
woman, your homework was pretty good. You must have a plan. I'm turning this mission over to Class 3D at once.”

There were cheers when Alfie told the class what had happened. Even Chloe looked pleased at the news. They decided to spend their morning break drawing up their plans.

“The first thing we must do,” Beth said, “is use my detector to find exactly where the satellite is.”

“It's quite a big back garden,” Alfie agreed.

“Maybe the SPUD agents have already found it,” Chloe said.

“Have they?” Alice asked Alfie.

He shook his head. “I don't think so. They were still hiding and drinking tea this morning.”

“Doesn't sound like they know where to look then,” Sam said.

“Or they were on a break,” Chloe said.

“Either way,” Jack said, “we need to stop them finding the satellite before we can get to it.”

“We should take them out,” Harry decided.

“Where to?” Alfie asked. “Maybe a tea shop? With biscuits?”

“No,” Sam said, “Harry means shoot them.”

“Is that a good idea?” Alice asked. “It might attract attention.”

“I can make silencers for Sam's built-in
machine guns,” Beth offered.

“But I was going to use the grenade launcher in the seat back and the rockets from between the wheels,” Sam said.

“What do you think, Alfie?” Alice asked.

“Yes, come on Mr Clever Clogs,” Chloe said.

“I think,” Alfie said slowly, “that we need to get them out of Mrs Prendagast's garden. The best way to do that is to convince them that the satellite is really somewhere else.”

“Terrific!” Jack exclaimed. “We stage a crash landing. Get another satellite to come
down somewhere else and make sure they see it. We can hide nearby and make satellite-crashing noises in case they miss it.” He demonstrated: “Neeeeeaaaaaooooow wwwww—booomph!”

“Or,” said Alfie, “we could just dig a big hole and pretend we've already found it.”

By the end of the afternoon the older children from Upper School had dug a pit at the side of the playground well away from Mrs Prendergast's garden. The spot had been carefully chosen by Sir Waverly Compass. Since the Major had been taken off the digging party the sides of the pit hadn't collapsed and buried anyone at all.

Sergeant Custer was on guard, making as much noise as he could to make sure the
SPUD agents would realise there was something “going on”. He marched up and down, shouting, “Who goes there?” and “Can't tell you, it's a secret but it's absolutely nothing at all whatsoever to do with any special satellites that might have crashed in this area recently, oh dear me no.” Which was completely true.

To make the illusion as complete as possible, the Chaplain was organising a PE lesson with Class 11F on one side of the pit—a fairly routine session with skipping ropes, hoops, footballs and a savage Siberian tiger.

On the other side of the pit, Miss Fortune was teaching what was left of 10A. There had been nine children in her group when she started but they were now down to only three, who all looked rather nervous.

The men in black uniforms and dark glasses had been spotted hiding in the bushes at the edge of the playground. They watched closely, ready to move in as soon as they saw anything that looked like a secret satellite…

In their classroom, Class 3D had a picture of Mrs Prendergast's back garden projected onto the white board. It had been taken with a digital camera from a radio-controlled model plane that Beth had adapted to fly over the area. Until it passed over the Major as he
made his way from the digging to First Aid—then it crashed in a ball of flame, singeing the Major's eyebrows and blackening his face with smoke.

“Can't see much,” Harry complained.

“We really need to see it from closer up,” Alfie said. “How high was the camera when it took this?”

“Three miles,” Beth said proudly.

“And the garden is that little dot just there?” Alice checked.

“No, that's Birmingham. The garden is here,” Beth said, using her laser pointer. It burned a hole through the board. “Or is it over there?” The hole stretched into a smoking line as she moved the pointer. “I wonder if I have this turned up too high.”

“Maybe we need a new plan to find exactly where the satellite is,” Chloe said. “I think we've left it too much to Alfie.”

“I've been working on a plan,” Jack said proudly. He nodded to Sam.

One arm of Sam's wheelchair flipped open and a metal rod extended upwards. Fixed to the top was a rolled sheet of paper, which dropped down. On the paper was a large picture. Everyone looked at it in surprise.

“Isn't that…” Alfie said slowly, “…a badger?”

“Absolutely,” said Jack. And here's the plan. Once we've identified the SCAR, then we can effect a TUF. The TABs will then use the TUF to reach the SCAR. The TABs will go into SET mode and Bob's your uncle. Any questions?”

Alice put her hand up. “What does BOB stand for?”

“It doesn't stand for anything. It's a saying. “Bob's your uncle.” Bob is short for Robert. And it means everything is OK.”

“So what does OK stand for?” Chloe asked.

“
My
uncle,” Harry said slowly, “is called Derek.”

“I think I got the Bob stuff,” Alfie said, “but what was the other bit about?”

“Which other bit?” Jack asked.

“All of it. Can you say it again, please, slowly.”

Jack took a deep breath. “Once…we…have…id…ent…if…ied…”

“Er, a bit quicker than that,” Beth said.

“All right. Once we've identified the SCAR, then we can effect—”

“Hang on,” Alfie said quickly. “What's a SCAR?”

“It's like, when you cut yourself,” Sam said, “You know, on a sharp edge or maybe it's a scratch from a plant or something. Might be in the kitchen…Or even a burn will do it…I remember once, when my mum was out—”

“The SCAR,” Jack said importantly, “is the Satellite Crash Area of Recovery.”

“Right,” Alfie said. “So, once we find where the satellite has crashed…”

“…then we can effect a TUF,” Jack finished.

Alice opened her mouth to ask a question.

Jack sighed. “Tunnel Under the Fence,” he explained. He shook his head sadly. “Don't any of you know anything? Right, after we tunnel under the fence, where Mrs Prendergast's garden borders the school grounds, then the TABs—that's the Trained Assault Badgers…”

Sam pointed to the big picture beside him. “Badgers,” he confirmed.

“Yes, the badgers will use the TUF…”

“The tunnel under the fence,” Alice said.

“That's right, they'll use the tunnel to reach the SCAR.”

“The satellite,” Harry said.

“Very good, yes. And they—the badgers—will go into SET mode.”

“Is that the set where they live?” Alfie asked.

“No,” Jack said. “It's Satellite Equipment Transfer mode. It means they'll bring it back to us.”

“The badgers,” Sam said, pointing to his picture again.

“Yes.”

“Which we have trained,” Harry said.

“Of course.”

“Sorry,” Harry said. “But, when did we do that?”

“Er,” Jack said.

“Do we actually
have
any badgers?” Alfie asked.

“Maybe we could use the Chaplain's electric eel?” Alice suggested.

Sam shook his head. “I haven't got a picture of that.”

“Robert might have one,” Harry told him.

“Who is Robert?” Jack asked.

“I thought he was your uncle. Bob for short.”

“So,” Alfie said quickly, “apart from having no badgers, trained or not, and not knowing exactly where the satellite is in the garden, and not having dug a tunnel under the fence, it's a good plan.”

“Thanks,” said Jack, beaming. “Hey,
maybe the badgers could wear specially adapted cameras on their heads and search for the satellite when they get there.”

“Do we have any specially adapted cameras?” Alfie asked.

“We've got as many as we have badgers,” Beth told him.

“Then they can have one each,” Harry said. “And we'll find the satellite in Mrs Prendergast's garden in no time.”

“Or,” Alfie said patiently, “we could borrow binoculars from Mrs Nuffink's Surveillance Classroom, and go up on the school roof and see if we can spot it from there.”

Chloe sighed. “I thought it was someone else's turn to come up with a plan.”

“I think it's a great idea!” Alice said. “We'll spot the satellite from the roof.”

“Yes,” Sam agreed. “I'll put the badger away.” As the picture rolled up and the metal rod returned to the arm of his wheelchair, he asked: “So, what does SPOT stand for?”