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“Next time,” Oscar said, looking at the clock. It was already getting late. If they were going, they needed to go. They didn’t have time to raid Mrs. Food’s closet for disguises, especially since there wasn’t likely to be much that would fit. “We’ll figure out disguises next time.” He wondered if there was a way they could go back to regular investigating. The spy stuff seemed to require a lot more accessories. “Come on, Chad’s waiting.” He didn’t even want to think about how much shrimp this was going to cost them.

“Okay, but don’t forget. Disguises are important,” Polo said, fiddling with the sparkly button she wore around her neck. It suddenly seemed kind of inadequate.

“Sure,” Oscar said, hopping over and opening his cage door. “Now, everyone remember how this works?”

They’d snuck out of the apartment a few times before, and they had a system for getting out and back in again. It had worked pretty well so far. (Not that they’d actually tested it that much.) He just hoped it would keep working.

Oscar flew over to the kitchen counter and picked up a dry-cleaning flyer while Walt jumped up on the handle to the front door. Once she’d managed to jiggle it open, Butterbean and the rats squeezed out into the hallway while Oscar followed them, making sure to keep the flyer between the latch and the doorframe as he flew. The door couldn’t lock if there was a flyer blocking the latch.

Oscar waited until the door swung closed on the paper, and then he landed on Butterbean’s head.

“Okay, rats, hop up,” Walt said as Butterbean pushed the elevator button. The rats climbed awkwardly onto her back like she was some kind of feline pony ride. “Let’s just hope the elevator is empty,” she muttered. “I don’t know how we’d explain old Cap’n Wallace over here.”

“Hey!” Wallace squealed as he adjusted the hem of his shirt. “It’s a good look!”

They only had to wait a few minutes before the elevator bell dinged. They all held their breath and peered inside as the doors opened.

It was empty.

Wallace sagged in relief. He didn’t want to admit it, but he hadn’t really thought the disguise thing through. Walt was right—a sailor rat would be hard to explain.

“So far so good,” Oscar said as they crept into the elevator. “Let’s just hope our luck holds.”

Butterbean stood up and nosed the button for the basement. They’d never been down there before, so she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. And it was hard to believe that the building had been attacked by evil invaders. But Biscuit was usually a pretty reliable dog. He’d never lied before, not even when Butterbean had asked him if her new collar was tooflashy. (It was. Mrs. Food had picked out a hot pink and lime green design. Butterbean was glad when she outgrew it.)

“Basement,” the elevator voice said.

“Here goes nothing,” Walt said, taking a deep breath as the doors opened.

They stepped out into a wide cinder-block hallway, lit only with dim safety lights spaced along the ceiling every few feet.

“There’s a light switch somewhere, but I never use it,” Wallace said, looking around awkwardly. He was in between Marco and Polo, and it was hard to see over Marco’s big head. “I think it’s mostly for humans.”

The elevator doors closed behind them. Oscar cleared his throat. He didn’t like how quiet it was. “So the loading dock is at the end of this hallway?” He’d be glad when this was over.

“Well, first the storage room, then the loading dock,” Wallace said nervously. His voice sounded weird and echoey in the hallway.

Oscar nudged Butterbean with one foot.“Right. Let’s go.”

Slowly they moved as a group toward a door at the end of the hall. They had only taken a few steps when a shadow loomed up in front of them.

There was something in their way. Something that hadn’t been there a few seconds before. Something that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Chad.

His tentacles were folded, and he was tapping them in irritation as he changed color to become visible.“You’re late.”

“Don’t DO that!” Polo gasped, clutching Walt’s fur tightly to keep from falling over backward. She would never get used to Chad showing up like that.

“What the heck, Chad!” Marco squealed. No matter how many times he’d seen it, Chad’s cloaking abilities still surprised him every time.

“Give us some warning next time, Chad,” Oscar said smoothing his feathers. He had to admit, he’d been a little thrown. (He was lucky that he hadn’t fallen off of Butterbean’s head entirely.) “Is there a problem? Walt said you knew how to unlock the storage room door.”

“Oh, I can unlock it. I know the key code,” Chad said, wiggling his tentacles. “There’s not a place in this building I can’t access. But I didn’t know how you wanted to handle THEM.”

He waved a tentacle at the door in the distance. And for the first time, Oscar and the others saw the problem.

The problem wasn’t the door. It was what was surrounding the door.

In the darkness, the safety lights illuminated what looked like dozens of glowing eyes.

— 6 —