Free The White Fox Chronicles by Gary Paulsen

Black Death after the suicide fighters that fought the CCR back in the early days.” Rico shrugged. “So far it’s kept them off our trail.”
    “Whatever works.” Cody wriggled into the black clothes and waited for Rico’s next instructions.
    “Go on over to the warehouse and wait for me. We’ll need to outfit you with a weapon and paint that shiny white face of yours. I’ll be along just as soon as I take care of something for the boss.”
    Cody felt lighter in his new clothes. He trotted across the compound to Franklin’s office. The big man wasn’t there so he decided to try the radio room.
    A few feet from the closed door he stopped in his tracks. Walmer, the radio operator, was on the air speaking to someone in the Republic language.
    Cody edged closer to the door.
    “No, Comrade. I don’t have access to that.… I’m telling you it’s something big. No, I can’t talk now.… When I know for sure … Yes … I better go now before anyone …”
    Cody slid down the hall a few yards and then walked casually toward the radio room. He knocked on the door and heard Walmer drop something.
    “Just a minute.… Come in.”
    “Hi, Walmer.” Cody’s eyes measured the short, round-bodied man. His skin was pasty and his cotton-white hair stuck out under his cap. He fidgeted nervously with some papers while Cody walked around him. “I was looking for Franklin. You seen him?”
    “Ah … no. He hasn’t been here all morning. If I see him, though, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”
    “Thanks.” Cody started to leave but turned at the door. “That was some strange jabbering you were doing just now on the radio, Walmer. What was it?”
    “That? Oh, it was just routine. I was reporting in to the CCR. They require us to dothat every so often so they can keep tabs on us.”
    “Really?” Cody faked a smile. “Well, you’re pretty good at it. In fact, you sound just like one of them.”

CHAPTER 8
    “H ow long has Walmer been with the organization?”
    Cody had asked to speak to Franklin in private a few minutes before the team was scheduled to leave. Standing across from the big man in a corner of the warehouse, the boy was hardly recognizable. His face was covered with camouflage paint, a snub-nose submachine gun loaded with thirty-two rounds of ammunition hung from his shoulder and aSpecial Forces combat knife was strapped on his belt.
    “He came in a few days before we found you. Of course, we’ve been careful not to let him in on everything. He doesn’t know any of our sources or about changing the uniforms of the CCR. I assume you have a good reason for asking?”
    “Did you know he speaks fluent Republic?”
    “That’s what got him one of the radio operator jobs. We needed somebody who could talk to them. What’s your point, Cody?”
    “I heard him talking to the CCR today. It didn’t sound right. I think you should watch him.”
    Franklin raised his hand and summoned Rico.
    “You need something, boss?”
    Franklin spoke softly near his ear. “Walmer is a plant. Tell Gunner to get rid of him.”
    “Wait.” Cody grabbed Franklin’s sleeve. “Aren’t you going to make sure?”
    Franklin’s eyes turned hard. “This is reality, Cody. We’re in a war here and I don’t havethe luxury of waiting. By the time we find out, it could be too late for all of us. Understand?”
    Cody looked at the floor. A few minutes before, he had been positive that Walmer was a spy working for the other side. So positive that he had turned him in. But now, what if he was wrong … the thought trailed off.
    Franklin wished them luck and ordered the team to the trucks. Cody moved mechanically. He fell in behind the men and somehow made his way outside.
    Thompson gave him a hand up into the back of the truck. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll make sure you don’t get your rump shot off.”
    Rico was the last one in. He sat down across from Thompson. “Don’t worry about Cody. The boss wouldn’t