Free For Your Paws Only by Heather Vogel Frederick Page B

activity.
    Humans rushed to and fro, a constant flow that increased to a flood every few minutes as trains arrived. They thronged the counters of the numerous restaurants and snack bars, buying pizza and pasta, soup and sushi, cookies, cheesecake, tacos, and more. Some of them took their meals with them; others sat at the many tables spread about the concourse.
    â€œWhere there’s food, there are rats,” said Glory, and B-Nut and Hotspur nodded in agreement. The three of them were camouflaged inside one of the many holiday wreaths that hung on the train station’s marble walls, watching all the hubbub below.
    Like Oz and D. B. and the Acorns, Glory and B-Nut and Hotspur were wearing headsets. In addition to being linked to each other, however, theirs were also linked toBunsen, who was monitoring them from the listening post backstage at BANANAS!
    â€œAny sign of rodent activity?” asked the lab mouse, his voice crackling through their earpieces.
    â€œNot yet,” said B-Nut, who had a pair of miniature binoculars—a novelty item, originally attached to a key chain that had been left behind in one of the booths at the Spy City Café—trained on the floor below. “Heck of a lot of humans, though.”
    â€œYou think this is busy, you should see Victoria Station in London. Or Stazione Termini in Rome,” said Hotspur.
    Glory gritted her teeth. This mission was starting to get on her nerves. With any luck, they’d get the information they needed shortly, and she could ditch Hotspur and his hot air and head back home. Glory could practically smell the Thanksgiving feast her mother would already be busy preparing.
    Glory allowed herself to daydream for a moment of the holiday they would celebrate tomorrow in the sturdy old oak tree she called home. And what a celebration it would be! She and all sixteen of her siblings would be together for the first Goldenleaf gathering since their father’s miraculous rescue last month. Her mother had planned an extra special meal for the occasion. She was probably in the kitchen right now, baking pies and rolls and—
    â€œThere he is,” said B-Nut tersely. “By the trash can across from the sushi counter.”
    Jolted out of her happy reverie, Glory grabbed the binoculars from her brother. Fine Silver Skateboard agent she was, woolgathering when she should have been watching for Dupont.
    â€œThat’s him all right,” she said.
    â€œAnd that’s Stilton Piccadilly right behind him,” said Hotspur.
    â€œWhoa,” said Glory, “he’s a bruiser. Looks like he might actually be able to take on Dupont and win.” She passed the binoculars back to B-Nut.
    Hotspur nodded. “He’s as nasty as he is big too. Keeps London’s guilds tied up in knots.”
    â€œSpeaking of London, where are Bubble and Squeak?” asked Glory. “I thought you said you left them on Piccadilly’s tail.”
    â€œUh-oh,” said B-Nut.
    â€œWhat?” asked Glory.
    B-Nut pointed toward the trash can. “Trouble,” he said. “They’re on Piccadilly’s tail, all right.”
    Glory took the binoculars from him again. She gasped. Stilton Piccadilly was swishing his tail back and forth with fierce glee. As he did so, two small mice swished with it. Bubble and Squeak were tied to its tip, and back and forth they went, scraping and bouncing over the hard marble floor in time to the hulking rat’s cruel metronome. A cluster of other rats had gathered, including Dupont. They were all laughing.
    Glory’s stomach clenched. Mouse torture was not apretty sight. “Right,” she said. “I’m going in.”
    She drew the harpoon pen out of her backpack and assembled it swiftly. “B-Nut, go back up on the roof and find Hank. Oz and D. B. should be arriving in the main concourse soon and someone has to be there at the rendezvous. We can’t afford to miss