The Plundered Parent Protocol: TEEN Agents, #1

By Joshua Unruh

Mourning, Noone, and Knight. These girls fight evil 24/7!

Best friends Elly Mourning, Hea Jung Noone, and Saturday Knight are about to celebrate their thirteenth birthday. But just before the party starts, a small army of robots descends from the skies led by a mysterious and handsome boy, ruining their party and kidnapping their dads!

Now their fathers are missing and presumed dead. Nobody believes the girls about the robots, nobody believes them about the handsome boy, and nobody believes them about the kidnapping.

Nobody except the Teenage Extranormal Emergency Network, that is.

But before the girls can save their dads, they have to impress TEEN's director enough to join the agency. To do that, they have to survive tests and death traps. If they manage that perilous task, they only have to outsmart one of the world's greatest teenage secret agents and a power-mad ten-year-old bent on world domination...all without letting a cute boy come between them.

If the job were easy, they'd send grown-ups. Lucky for the world, this is a job for TEEN Agents.

The Plundered Parent Protocol is the first book in the TEEN Agents Casefiles. Approximately 60,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pulp Diction Press
• Release date: Jan 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781468165975

Joshua Unruh

Joshua Unruh writes all the things. He has developed webseries and television pilots that have never been produced, comic books that have never been drawn, and roleplaying games that have never been played. But he always publishes the stories! Through his imprint, Pulp Diction Press, Joshua specializes in modern retro fiction. Action scientists, haunted cowboys, girl super spies, diverse superheroes, and marauding vikings are just some of what he offers through PDP. Joshua strives to make everything he writes clever, interesting, or funny. Like Meatloaf said, two out of three ain't bad. He makes his home in Oklahoma City with a wife, a son, a dog, and no room in the storm shelter when the inevitable tornado hits.

Book preview

1

A boy and girl stood on an undecorated stage in street clothes running lines. Hushed spectators surrounded them, all but two of whom were members of the George Smiley Junior High School Drama Club. Despite the current lack of costumes and stage dressing for the club’s upcoming production of Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, everyone looking at Elly Mourning only saw the lead character, Kate. She thrust her upper body forward, her eyes blazed, her fists and jaw clenched with barely concealed rage, spots of color showed on her walnut colored cheeks, and her voice dripped with angry contempt as she spoke her line.

Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing: They call me Katharine that do talk of me.

She spoke to a good-looking African American boy named Ryan Hammond who had twinkling chocolate eyes that usually made Elly blush and stutter. This time, though, it was Ryan who stammered in the face of Elly’s onslaught.

You are called plain K-k-k-kate, Ryan stuttered, not meeting Elly’s eyes. And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the crust—

CUT! bellowed Mrs. Sims.

Uh-oh, I think that line is ‘curst,’ whispered Saturday Knight, one of Elly’s best friends and one of the two audience members who wasn’t in the drama club.

Mrs. Sims is going to kill him, Hea Jung Noone said into Saturday’s ear. Hea was Elly’s other best friend and the other non-drama-club member.

Yeah, Saturday agreed, unless Elly kills him first.

I’m sorry, kids, Mrs. Sims said as she climbed the stairs to the stage. "I think I was too ambitious with Taming of the Shrew. She shook her head sadly. I’m afraid we’re going to have to do something a little less...intense. Perhaps Cheaper by the Dozen or The Adventures of Tom Sawyer."

Everyone in the drama club groaned a chorus of Not those again and Way to go, Ryan. Ryan turned to them, his hands rising defensively to his chest.

"It isn’t my fault! he said, trying to look at everyone at once except Mrs. Sims and Elly. This is freakin’ Shakespeare! And can you guys see how Elly keeps looking at me? You try and run lines while she looks at you like she’s going to lay the imperial smackdown on you."

Saturday and Hea looked to see how Elly would respond. Right before their eyes, all the anger and murderous intent of Kate bled out of her aggressive posture and scornful face. For a split-second she was herself, a pretty girl who looked like a teenage Beyonce, just long enough to wink and grin at her two best friends. Then she put on her grown-up self. It was basically still Elly, just Elly at her most mature, her most persuasive.

I hate it when she does that. It’s creepy, Hea said.

Yeah, but she’ll get the job done. Just you watch, Saturday told her.

Mrs. Sims, Elly said, the tone of her voice suggesting that whatever she was about to say was the most reasonable thing in the world, the set and costume designers have already started working. We’ve already done so much work, all of us. It would be tragic to stop now.

Mrs. Sims considered, but looked doubtful. That’s true, Elly, and the sets and costumes look wonderful. But the performance isn’t coming together.

Elly held up a finger. "Isn’t coming together yet. We all want to do Taming of the Shrew. We convinced you first, remember? It’s going to take more work than we thought, but anything worth doing takes a lot of work. We want to do the work. She turned to the other club members. Right guys?"

They answered her with a cheer. Mrs. Sims was taken aback by the volume of the noise. Elly pressed her advantage.

Don’t take this from us, Mrs. Sims, please? We want to stretch ourselves. We’re too good for those other plays.

One of us is too good for those other plays, Ryan muttered. His eyes were dark, and he looked tired. Elly turned to him, and, despite the little glare he was giving her, she flashed a dazzling smile that touched her hazel eyes and made them dance. It obviously disarmed Ryan, and he couldn’t help but return the smile. She looked back to Mrs. Sims.

As for Ryan, I’m willing to do extra practices with him. Lots of extra practices, before school, in the evenings at each other’s houses; I’ll do whatever it takes. She looked at Ryan again, but this time it was an embarrassed sidelong glance. If he wants to spend that much time with me, that is.

Diabolical, Saturday said under her breath.

At least she uses her powers for good, Hea said. Usually.

Mrs. Sims considered Elly and the rest of the club, her mouth a thin line and her forehead creased in thought. Perhaps I was too hasty—

The club interrupted her with another cheer.

Not so fast, she said, raising her voice over the ruckus. We haven’t heard from the actor who has to spend the most time on stage besides Elly. This will only work if Ryan is willing to pitch in all that extra work. She looked at him. Ryan? What do you say?

Ryan looked from Mrs. Sims’s questioning face to Elly’s hopeful look and back again. He looked a little dumbfounded. He sighed.

Okay, I’m in.

Elly beamed at him clapped her hands together in front of her chest, breaking her grown-up appearance for a moment before she caught herself. She smoothed her features and dropped her hands back to her sides so fast that everyone missed it except Saturday, Hea, and Ryan. But her excitement had done its job. Ryan no longer looked beaten and tired. He looked excited to spend time with Elly. Hea and Saturday looked at one another knowingly.

Well, all right then, Mrs. Sims said, smiling. We shall press on with the Bard. A bell rang loudly through the auditorium, signalling the end of the rehearsal, and the students scrambled to collect their book bags and get out the door to the rest of the day’s classes.

Hea and Saturday waited near the door for Elly to join them before heading to class. Elly walked toward her friends, the hard soles of her black leather boots echoing across the mostly empty auditorium. As she walked, she tugged on a denim jacket over her floral print dress. Each blossom on the dress sported a different bright color that contrasted with her black hair and dark skin.

Well? How was I? she asked.

Brilliant, as always, Saturday said with mock seriousness.

Truly, an inspiration to our generation, Hea agreed, an equally stern look on her face.

Elly fiddled with the bangles on her wrist that had tangled with her jacket rather than think about whether the praise was sincere or sarcastic. She seemed to focus all her attention on unhooking it, but her friends weren’t fooled. The trio had been best friends since kindergarten when they discovered they shared the same birthday. Eight years later, on their thirteenth birthday, Hea and Saturday couldn’t help but see through Elly’s considerable ability to act nonchalant.

No, seriously, guys! Was I good? Elly asked, still not looking at her friends. She’d unhooked the bracelet and was now nervously brushing down her dress’s flared skirt.

Oh, you were amazing as Kate, Saturday assured her.

But that performance couldn’t hold a candle to the one you laid on Mrs. Sims, Hea cut in.

And Ryan, Saturday reminded her. Don’t forget the moves she put on Ryan.

Elly put on her shocked and affronted face while placing a hand across her chest. "I don’t know what you two are talking about. I didn’t have to convince Mrs. Sims of anything that wasn’t true. I just had to remind her we could do the work."

Saturday snorted. "You had to remind Ryan you two could do the work. Together. Alone. For hours."

Elly tried again to look insulted, but the knowing looks of her two best friends finally shattered the famous Mourning composure. Instead, her mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish while she tried to come up with an appropriate remark. The other two girls burst into giggles at having finally flustered her. Elly gave up and laughed along with them.

I just want the show to be the best it can possibly be, Elly said between giggles.

We get it, Saturday said, pushing the thick, black rims of her glasses back up her nose from where they'd slipped during the laughing fit.

Hea nodded, her two long pigtails bobbing with the motion. "We totally get it. Ryan is super cute."

Spots of color flared on Elly’s cheeks, and she looked away embarrassed. She couldn’t meet her friends’ eyes, so she checked her watch instead. Luckily for her, she found a convenient excuse to change the subject. Hey, we better hustle, or Saturday won’t get her science experiment set up in time.

Hea snorted. You mean the one that’s been set up since five this morning?

Elly looked from Hea to Saturday in disbelief. Saturday turned red and wouldn’t look her in the eye.

Seriously? Elly asked.

I wanted to make sure I was here in time for your rehearsal! Saturday said, clutching her books to her chest.

Well, who can blame you for that? Elly said with an affected smugness. She flipped her hair dramatically. I’d hate to miss one of my performances almost as much as I’d hate to miss you winning the science fair.

Don’t jinx me, Saturday said, her voice reaching a higher, nervous octave.

Hea rolled her eyes and began speaking excitedly. Oh, honestly, you’ve got this thing in the bag because you inventedanewkindofbatteryforcryingoutloudwhichiscramazingandyouknowit.

Hea found herself speaking so fast that English couldn’t keep up with her, and she lapsed into the Korean she used at home with her halmoni, her great-grandmother.

Hea, whoa, you’ve gone supersonic again, Elly said, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a little shake. Hea responded with fake shock, her mouth making a large O. The trio laughed at the less-than-Elly-level performance.

Speed talking aside, Elly continued, "I don’t think you have a thing to worry about. And neither does anybody else. Besides, we need you to win it that fast so we can get to Hea’s gymnastics meet in time."

Oh, I wouldn’t miss another win by ‘High’ Noone for anything in the world, even first prize at the science fair, Saturday said. She turned to Hea, I swear, sometimes I think you break the laws of physics with your routines, girl.

I do! Hea said. She did a pirouette that caused her two, yard-long pigtails to spin away from her head, their ribbons fluttering. The light material of her flouncy, pastel clothing also flared away from her tiny frame. She stopped and struck a dramatic pose, her hair and clothing continuing to twist around her body. Everybody knows I defy gravity.

No, you don’t, Saturday said, suddenly serious. She straightened the tweed jacket she wore and smoothed her plaid skirt. That’s impossible.

Uh-oh, Hea said, recognizing the signs of a lecture from Saturday. She backed away as though her studious friend were a bomb about to go off. Professor Knight is gearing up to teach us a lesson. Run for your lives!

Saturday looked down at her loafers and said, "C’mon, you guys! Science is serious stuff. It shouldn’t be taken lightly ever."

Don’t sweat it, Brainiac, Elly said, coming to Saturday’s rescue by putting an arm around her shoulders. Let’s go show ‘em that big brain in action.

THE AUDITORIUM AT SMILEY Junior High was covered from wall-to-wall with small tables showing various scientific principles demonstrated in potato clocks, plaster volcanoes, and several examples of ropes and pulleys, all illustrated and explained with their own poorly drawn, lettered, and tri-folded-to-stand-upright poster board theses. Mere minutes ago, they had been lovingly gazed at by friends, family, and students. But that had been before the top three experiments of this year’s science fair had been reconstructed at the front of the room so the winner could be announced, leaving the rest of the displays forgotten. The audience contemplated the two experiments that looked like above-average examples and compared them to the third. The standout had a computerized and animated demonstration projected onto a small screen that carefully explained in terms everyone in the room could understand an experiment that looked more like it belonged in some university laboratory than a junior high auditorium. Nobody in the room doubted who would win this year’s grand prize. There hadn’t been a doubt about any science fair since Saturday had been in first grade.

And the first prize in the Smiley Junior High Science Fair goes to Saturday Knight and her... Principal Macnee paused to consult the card Saturday had handed him, ...crystalline, solid-state battery. We will be pleased to send her on to regionals where we’re sure Ms. Knight will be a shock to their system.

The Principal beamed at his own joke, but nobody laughed. Nobody laughed because they were too busy crowding the small stage, trying to get a closer look at Saturday’s first-prize experiment. Parents, teachers, students, everyone wanted to find out how the new battery worked, how it was different and better than the batteries they could buy at the store, when she’d patent it, how many millions she’d make off it. Saturday, who never liked to be the center of attention, tugged at the long, blond ponytail hanging over her shoulder while trying to answer everyone’s questions at once. Spots of color flamed on her cheeks as she fended off touchy-feely gawkers who wanted to handle her experiment. She was quickly reaching a critical mass of embarrassment and annoyance.

Hea leaned toward Elly. We better go save her before somebody gets hurt.

Elly nodded. We’ve got to get you to your gymnastics meet anyway.

The girls edged up to the rear of the raised dais and grabbed Saturday from behind, dragging her safely away from the throng. Saturday let out a small yelp of surprise but swallowed it when she found her friends rescuing her.

Don’t leave my battery behind! Saturday wailed. All those hands! Somebody will break it!

Elly wrapped her arms around Saturday’s waist and tugged her toward the door. Yeah, but nobody can keep their hands off your stuff, you know that.

Saturday was leaning toward her precious battery but slowly lost ground to Elly’s pulling. And they always break it!

Hea leaned on Saturday’s shoulders to help Elly. "That’s why you built a spare at home. They always break it and you always build a spare, right?"

Saturday sighed, and her taut muscles went slack. The girls almost fell together in a heap on top of one another. When they’d regained their balance, Saturday said, Yeah, that’s true. And I might have built a little something into this one to teach them a lesson about touching a scientist’s experiments.

Hea and Elly exchanged worried glances.

"Let’s get out of here right now," Hea said.

Elly nodded. For sure.

The girls beat a hasty retreat and, just as the door closed behind them, they heard a loud zap followed by a yelp of pain. Saturday smiled.

AFTER SCHOOL, THE ENTIRE student body of Smiley Junior High made its way to the gymnasium for the all-city gymnastics competition that would decide which school’s squad would go on to state championships. Smiley’s students were typically supportive of the school’s various sports and clubs, but this kind of turnout was pretty incredible even for a Smiley sporting event. Add to that the students from the other schools, every teacher who could justify stepping away from grading papers and making lesson plans, and every parent who could sneak out of work for a couple of hours, and you had a crowd that left standing-room only in the actual gym, as well as the lobby area where the competition was shown on several televisions mounted on the walls. For most of the competition, there had been a carnival atmosphere, a buzzing excitement and anticipation. But now, absolute silence reigned over the crowd. The only noise belonged to the creak of the equipment and the small grunts of effort from Hea Jung as she flipped, dove, flew, and whirled dozens of feet in the air. Even if someone had wanted to make a sound, nobody in the crowd could have because they all held their breath, mesmerized by the feats of agility.

Oh, Elly said quietly so as not to break the spell, that was new.

What? What did I miss? asked Saturday, who was trying to do the math of Hea’s routine in her composition notebook.

She slipped a corkscrew into that last flip. She’s never done that before.

Are you sure?

Elly gave her a reproving look.

Yeah, okay, you’re always sure. It’s such a complex routine; there’s no way the judges can follow it. Why would she make it even more intricate?

Because— Elly started.

She’s High Noone, the girls said together, giggling.

Hea nailed her dismount, her feet hitting the floor with the sound of a whip crack in the silent gym. She threw her hands over her head and flashed a bright smile to the amazed crowd, who sat in silence for a moment before it registered the routine had ended. As one, the crowd flew to their feet, clapping thunderously and whooping wildly.

C’mon, Elly said, let’s meet her in the locker room so we can slip out to meet the ‘rents before our birthday party.

The two girls maneuvered through the applauding crowd, politely excusing themselves as they went. They needn’t have bothered. No matter how many toes they stepped on, nobody stopped clapping or chanting High Noone.

ARM IN ARM, THE THREE girls headed for the park where their parents were decorating for the birthday party. Their thirteenth birthday party. At long last, they were teenagers,