S.T.I.N.K.B.O.M.B. by Rob Stevens

interesting indeed.’ He was about to throw his head back again, but stopped. ‘In the interests of expediency, let’s assume that at this point I laughed,
you joined in, and we both cackled about my genius together. That will be all.’
    Doom’s fingers rattled on his keyboard for a few more seconds before he noticed Antony was still loitering in front of him. One of his exceptionally long, wiry arms was raised like a
schoolboy waiting to catch his teacher’s attention.
    The evil villain’s shoulders drooped. ‘If you’re waiting to ask about the cat and the mouse, the answer is no. They are not real either.’
    ‘Oh.’ Slowly Antony lowered his hand and turned, skulking towards the exit with long, loping strides.
    ‘Just one more thing, Antony,’ Dr Doom said casually, lightly resting his mismatched hands on his computer keys. ‘When you went to intercept Hunt, am I right in concluding that
you chased his car off the road, resulting in Richard Hunt sailing into the sea inside his vehicle? While his son could not be found and is presumed to have been thrown clear?’
    ‘Erm, that’s right.’
    One side of Dr Doom’s mouth stretched into a broad smile. ‘Thought so,’ he said warmly. ‘Oh – one very final thing. Could you take a couple of steps to the left for
me? Thank you.’
    Immediately Doom yanked a lever then pressed a button next to it. Antony instinctively glanced at his feet.
    Three sounds followed in quick succession. First there was an emphatic ‘ shuck ’ like the sound of someone putting their palm over the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner. Then came the
pneumatic ‘ swish ’ of sliding doors before a deep liquid ‘ ploosh ’!
    Dr Doom grinned at the dark cloud billowing on one of the screens mounted on his desk. Calmly he reached out and flicked a small switch then leaned towards a microphone.
    ‘Hello, is that the Clone Zone?’ he asked. ‘It’s Doctor Doom here. Listen, I need you to grow me another Antony and I need it in twenty minutes. Is that
understood?’ Pause. ‘Excellent. I’m afraid the last one rather dropped himself in it.’

Archie and Barney were sitting in Archie’s room, snacking on sandwiches and two tall glasses of cold milk Archie’s grandmother had prepared for them. They’d
cycled back from the safe house in stunned silence and hadn’t spoken since getting to Archie’s.
    ‘We’re MI6 agents, you know,’ said Archie at last.
    ‘I know!’ Barney beamed. ‘STINKBOMB agents, to be precise.’
    ‘How’s your sandwich, Agent Zulu?’
    ‘That’s classified, Agent Yankee. I could tell you but I’d have to kill you!’
    ‘Gemma’s pretty cool, don’t you think?’ Archie said, trying to sound vaguely bored by the topic. ‘I mean, she’s not like other girls we know or
anything.’
    ‘Of course she’s not,’ Barney laughed. ‘She’s an MI6 secret agent for starters.’
    ‘I suppose.’ Archie studied his glass before taking a slurp of milk. ‘But apart from that, she’s just quite, I dunno, cool.’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘Well, hacking into the police computer is pretty cool.’
    ‘True.’
    ‘And the way she dresses – the jacket and that – is cool.’
    ‘I guess.’
    ‘Have you noticed that funny dimple she gets . . .’ Archie stopped himself. Suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to swallow he slowly raised his eyes to meet Barney’s.
    ‘Let me guess,’ Barney said, grinning. ‘The dimple is cool too?’
    The boys were interrupted by the sound of Archie’s phone chirping the theme from Star Wars.
    Archie was slouched back on his bed so Barney pushed across the room on the chair’s castors and picked the phone up off the desk.
    ‘Hello?’ he said, rolling a bite of sandwich into his cheek like a hamster. ‘Archie Hunt’s phone. Oh, hi, Gemma.’
    There was a lengthy pause before Barney spoke again. ‘Sorry Yes, Agent X-ray. It was a momentary lapse in agency protocol. It won’t happen again . . . That’s