When Jackson caught his breath, he found himself in another strange room, this one shaped like a circle with a mosaic of the universe laid into the floor. Aside from the shelves of dusty manuscripts that lined the walls, the only other thing in the room was a silver pedestal. The pedestal was covered in knobs, buttons, and blinking lights, and a large blue orb hovered above it, just like the one Jackson had seen in the other room. Hanging from the ceiling directly above the pedestal were more computer monitors and hundreds of thick, loose cables dangling like the arms of an electronic octopus. Jackson studied the pedestal and his heart soared. It was clearly some kind of computer, even if it did have more bells and whistles than most. It had to have e-mail too! He could send for help! He’d have the police, the FBI, the army, and the local Girl Scout troop kicking down the door of this screwy secret lab in no time.

Unfortunately, Jackson had no idea where to start. There was no mouse and no obvious power button. In desperation, he went to work pushing all the buttons, not sure of what they might do.

Then the strange voice he had heard after falling through the locker returned. “You have accessed the physical enhancement protocol of the National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society. Prepare for upgrade. Code name, please?”

“Are you talking to me?” Jackson asked, looking around.

“Yes. Have you chosen a code name?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jackson said. “I’m just trying to find a way out of this—”

The voice interrupted him. “No code name submitted. Subject has twenty-four hours to log in a code name or an appropriate one will be assigned. Scanning for weaknesses.”

Suddenly, the bookshelves on either side of Jackson moved away from the walls, revealing banks of little green lights. Each emitted lasers, which whisked across his body in odd patterns. They didn’t cause him any pain, but they did make him nervous.

“Physical attributes are above normal range,” the voice said. “Continuing to scan for weaknesses.”

As the lasers continued to sweep across his body, there was an awesome bang on the door and a huge dent appeared, as if a giant had tossed a rhino against the steel. The scientists on the other side were trying to break down the door.

“Where’s the e-mail program?” Jackson cried as he frantically pushed more buttons.

A bank of little red lights appeared on the pedestal. The machine began to beep and twitter and the orb above it began to spin. It turned slowly at first, but then whirled so fast it dazzled Jackson’s eyes. A million light particles scattered around the room.

Crunch! A bigger dent appeared in the door.

The particles swirled over the walls and floor, eventually collecting into one unified shape—a three-dimensional skeleton floating directly before Jackson. It seemed to move as Jackson did. When he turned his head, it turned its head. When he raised his arm, it did the same. He reached toward the skeleton, but when his hands broke the image’s surface, the figure disappeared. “It’s a hologram,” he said aloud.

When he pulled his arm away, the skeleton reappeared, this time showing a heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, and stomach. After that, a layer of muscles and veins was added to the skeleton.

“Internal organs within normal range. No chemical imbalances detected. No allergies detected. Scanning continues,” the odd voice said.

Crunch! One of the door’s bolted hinges bent and the screws that held it fell to the floor.

Now the skeleton was covered in skin. Eyeballs appeared, followed by hair and fingernails. Now it was clear to Jackson that the hologram was a three-dimensional portrait of him from the inside out. He only wished the computer would add some clothing.

The strange voice returned. “Weakness detected. Subject has extensive dental devices. Upgrade will take place in three …”

“Wait! What’s an upgrade?”

“Two …”

Jackson started pushing buttons in a panic. “How do you stop this thing?”

“One. Upgrade commencing.”

Suddenly, a leather chair rose out of the floor. Jackson fell into it, and before he could scramble out, his hands and feet were strapped down. The chair tilted back, then stretched out into a cot. Two spiderlike machines emerged from the jungle of cables above and lowered to just inches above Jackson’s face. Each had eight arms, with different devices attached to the ends: knives, drills, and saw blades, all whirling and spinning wildly. Jackson opened his mouth to scream, only to have one of the arms use rubber hooks to pull back his lips from his teeth.

“Help!” he shouted, and though the pounding at the door continued, the scientists had yet to break through. Oh how Jackson wished he had been captured by them instead of the ruthless, faceless computer!

“Think pleasant thoughts,” the voice said.

And then, everything went black.

For a professional killer with ice in her veins, the Hyena was pretty cute. She had platinum blonde hair and bright green eyes, long eyelashes, and a nose like a button. When she was seven years old, her mother decided to capitalize on her daughter’s stunning good looks. She packed up their belongings, bought a used Winnebago, and plunged her daughter into the world of professional child beauty pageants. She dressed the Hyena in sparkly gowns, false eyelashes, and high-heeled shoes. Twice weekly she sent the little girl for spray-on tans that left her looking like a walking tangerine. She enrolled the Hyena in hip-hop, jazz, and modern dance classes. She sent her for voice, acting, and piano lessons twice a week. She hired coaches who taught the Hyena how to bat her eyes and flash a smile at the judges as she sang “Minnie the Moocher.”

Their hard work paid off. The Hyena won hundreds of trophies, received thousands of dollars in college scholarships, and had a collection of crowns to rival a princess’s. She was named the Georgia Beef Beauty, Little Miss Florida Citrus, California’s Canola Oil Charmer, Wisconsin Wheat Fairy, Dairy Princess of Lawrence, Kansas, and Idaho Spud Queen all in the same month. She was a bright, over-tanned representative of all six major food groups!

But it wasn’t her good looks and spunky personality that won her so many competitions. What put her over the top every time was the talent portion. While some girls played the violin or recited Hamlet, the Hyena gave an instructional lesson on how to fend off an attacker with flaming nunchakus. She slashed, jabbed, and dismembered a training dummy with a twinkle in her eye. The judges were impressed by her mercilessness. Or perhaps they voted for her out of fear. Regardless, the act was a smash.

Ever the show-woman, the Hyena’s mother eagerly expanded the act to include more weapons: sai, daggers, and swords; billy clubs, Tasers, and brass knuckles. Their Winnebago was a rolling arsenal. The Hyena’s mother also enrolled her daughter in whatever martial arts classes they could find as they journeyed across America. The Hyena learned judo in Juneau, aikido in Akron, jiujitsu in Jamestown, tae kwon do in Tallahassee, sambo in San Diego, kendo in Kansas City, Jogo do Pau in Jersey City, and kung fu in Kissimmee. As a backup, she learned tap dancing in Tulsa. Unfortunately, her mom’s enthusiasm backfired when the Hyena announced she wanted to do something else with her life—something more dignified than prancing around in a cocktail dress.

She wanted to become a professional assassin.

Sadly, as the Hyena had discovered, the life of a freelance professional contract killer was not all that it was cracked up to be. In fact, she hadn’t actually gotten to kill anyone yet. And because of her lack of experience, she was forced to accept less desirable jobs in the world of professional crime—namely, being a goon. Not a highly trained killer! Not even a minion or a henchman. A goon! If the other contract killers found out she was kidnapping people, she would be a laughingstock.