Free Get Smart-ish by Gitty Daneshvari Page B

a little,” Shelley said, looking around the room. “Big deal. I remember the important bits, like that there’s a flash drive hidden behind a painting by some guy named Turner.”
    â€œBut which painting?”
    â€œThe one by Turner,” Shelley responded impatiently.
    â€œShells, maybe the sign on the wall isn’t clear enough for you, but this whole exhibit is by J.M.W. Turner.”
    â€œSo we’ll look under every painting,” Shelley answered nonchalantly.
    â€œThere are people everywhere,” Jonathan said as he scanned the room.
    â€œIt appears you may have a point,” Shelley said, rubbing her chin before suddenly snapping her fingers. “You know what clears a room in less than a minute?”
    â€œI’m afraid to ask.”
    â€œFire!” Shelley said proudly. “People hate fire.”
    â€œYou’re suggesting we start a fire in a museum? Are you insane?” Jonathan asked.
    â€œRelax, Dr. Downer, I’m talking about pulling the fire alarm and tricking everyone into thinking there’s a fire when there’s not.”
    â€œWhile that’s preferable to starting an actual fire, I still have a bad feeling about this,” Jonathan said.
    â€œBut you have a bad feeling about everything.”
    â€œThat’s true,” Jonathan acknowledged. “Sometimes, just waking up gives me a bad feeling. Is that normal?”
    â€œNo, but unfortunately we don’t have time to deal with your emotional baggage right now. We have a building to clear,” Shelley said as she slipped her hands into her oversized trench coat and started skulking around the exhibit, carefully scanning the walls for a fire alarm.
    â€œJohno,” Shelley said, “check out three o’clock.”
    â€œThe guy in the green sweater?” Jonathan responded.
    â€œNo! That’s eleven o’clock.”
    â€œHow is that eleven o’clock?”
    â€œOh, forget it,” Shelley said with a huff. “See that small red square on the wall next to the door? That’s a fire alarm.”
    â€œAgain, I have a really bad feeling about this plan,” Jonathan reiterated.
    â€œWhich is why I think you should pull the fire alarm.”
    â€œNo way.”
    â€œHaven’t you ever heard the saying ‘He who doubts the plan must use his hand to execute the plan’?”
    â€œFirst of all, you just made up that saying. I can tell because it makes absolutely no sense. And second of all, I’m never going to do it. And by
never
, I mean making-the-dean’s-list kind of never.”
    Shelley released a long Jonathan-worthy sigh, threw her hands up in the air, and relented. “Fine, I’ll do it, you big baby!”
    Strutting across the room, weaving in and out of tourists, Shelley exuded the kind of inexplicable confidence that Jonathan couldn’t help but envy. To feel strong and self-assured while walking straight into the unknown: That was impressive. Or insane. Or both, Jonathan thought as he watched Shelley nonchalantly pull the small red lever marked FIRE . Thunderous sirens blared. A frenetic strobe light flashed. People scattered, desperate to find the closest exit. And watching it all, a smile draped across her face, was Shelley.
    A job well done, or so she thought. For just as Shelley prepared to take a bow, a security guard appeared before her, red-faced and visibly angry.
    â€œWhy did you pull the fire alarm?” the man screamed over the sirens.
    Shelley couldn’t help but smile, flattered that someone other than a gorilla had taken notice of her.
    â€œI said, why did you pull the fire alarm!” the man repeated just as the sirens ceased. “Young lady, you’re going to need to come with me.” He grabbed hold of Shelley’s arm.
    â€œSee that boy with the black hair plastered to his head? That’s my friend. And wherever I go, he goes.”
    Jonathan sighed.