MY BEST FRIEND IS A SECRET AGENT, Book 2: How C.H.I.P. Took a Dive to Dash...

Chapter 12: "A Late Night Visit"

While Team C.H.I.P. (that's us) was busy building a new and better way to get around Vortville, Anastasia O'Neil was burning the midnight oil at work.

She went through all the news photos, read all the reports and watched all the videos about C.H.I.P. that she could lay her hands on. But nothing quite pointed her in the right direction of who he really was. (Were we great at concealing C.H.I.P.'s secret identity or what?)

But then, when Anastasia was walking to her car in the VNN parking garage, she heard somebody in the shadows whisper, "Pssst!" It was someone hiding behind a concrete column.

"You want to know about the hero guy?" the person asked.

"Maybe," Anastasia said, not sure she could trust this stranger.

"I can point you in the right direction. Give you some hints," the person offered. "But you've got to find out the details for yourself."

"Who are you?" Anastasia asked.

"That's classified."

"Do you work for the government?"

"Well . . . let's just say I spend most of my days in a government-owned institution."

"Okay, what can you tell me?"

The stranger popped a piece of gum in her mouth. "The hero guy has something to do with a kid."

"A kid?" Anastasia asked.

"At Vortville Middle School. His name . . . is Nort."

"Nort what?"

"I can't tell you that. But seriously, how many Norts are there gonna be at a school? You do the math."

"Okay . . ." Anastasia said with suspicion. "Anything else?"

"That should be enough to get you started."

"All right. Listen, how can I get a hold of you?"

The stranger pulled out a potted plant from under her trench coat. "Put this on the windowsill of your office window. Then I'll get a hold of you."

"Uh . . . my office doesn't have a window," Anastasia said, a little ashamed.

"All right, fine," the stranger grumbled. "Here's my email." The stranger tossed the potted plant away and handed Anastasia a slip of paper.

And, in a flash, the stranger was gone.

Anastasia looked at the slip of paper.

On it was scribbled: GVBRUGEN123@VMAIL.COM.