“Let’s move it, people!” he shouted. “We do not want to hit New York City during midday traffic, even in a rocket.”

Seconds later, the engines roared, and with a sudden burst the School Bus hurtled into the dark tunnel, twisting around tight curves and up and down steep hills like a runaway train. There was a blinding flash of daylight and another burst of speed, and then the rocket was airborne, slicing through the powdery clouds toward outer space.

“We’ll be in New York City in less than fifteen minutes,” Brand said, “so we need to get prepared fast. This is a Level One threat.”

“Remind me again. What’s Level One?” Flinch asked.

Pufferfish rolled her eyes. “You didn’t pay attention during your training! Level One is a crime using advanced technology.”

“Two in the same week?” Matilda said. “What’s going on?”

“I’m hoping it’s just a coincidence,” Ms. Holiday said. “Our target is a lunatic calling himself Mr. Miniature. Benjamin, do you have any information on him?”

Several screens dropped down from the ceiling. They showed a video of a man struggling to hold up a gigantic ray gun. Everything he pointed at got really small really fast. Flinch saw normal-size cars, trucks, buildings; one ZAP! and they were the size of children’s playthings. Mr. Miniature scooped up everything he shrank and stuffed it all into a sack, like a child who won a toy-store shopping spree.

“How is he doing that?” Duncan asked, his mouth open in amazement.

“We’re not sure,” Benjamin told him. “We have a science team in the Playground working on similar technology, but they report that they are probably a decade away from having a working prototype. It’s very advanced tech.”

“And there isn’t a scientist or lab in the world that is any closer than us. This guy and his machine just sort of appeared out of nowhere,” Brand said.

“This guy must be supersmart to build something like that,” Gluestick remarked.

“He’s a stock boy at a grocery store,” Ms. Holiday said, and the screen showed a picture of an ordinary-looking—perhaps even a little dull—man in a green stock-boy apron. Below his picture were the words “Employee of the Month.”

“Seriously?” Wheezer cried.

“What happens if we get shrunk?” Flinch asked.

“We have no idea,” Brand said. “We’re hoping that his ray can also reverse the process, but we can’t get close enough to see.”

“We’re in our descent,” the lunch lady shouted from the captain’s chair. “Manhattan in three minutes.”

A warning light on the wall blinked. Ms. Holiday opened a panel and removed five parachute packs, one for each of the children. Flinch had never seen anything like them. The fabric seemed to take on the color of whatever it was near, making them almost invisible. It was only then that he realized his jumpsuit was doing the same thing.

“Awesome!” he shouted.

“These are the new camouflage drop suits and parachutes. They’ll allow you to blend in with your background,” she said. “We can’t have Mr. Miniature or anyone else seeing five kids parachuting into the city.”

Duncan admired his, peering closely at the fabric. “They must refract the light around us.”

As Flinch pulled on his parachute, Brand opened the hatch, and the wind blasted into the rocket’s compartment. “Make this as fast as possible,” he shouted. “It will be very hard to explain to the media why all the tourist attractions have shrunk.”

“All right, everyone! We’ll put together a plan on the ground,” Pufferfish said as she put on her goggles. “Let’s move!”

Brand turned to Flinch. “Actually, I want Flinch to take point on this one.”

Flinch shook his head. “Um, you are aware I broke Paris yesterday?”

“He’s really not ready,” Pufferfish said.

Brand frowned. “It’s not open for discussion.”

“Time to go!” the lunch lady shouted.

Ms. Holiday pressed a chocolate-covered cupcake into Flinch’s hand. “I thought you might like this,” she said.

“Did you bake it?” Flinch asked. Ms. Holiday was a great librarian and an amazing spy, but her baking was downright criminal.

She shook her head. “No, this one I bought at the store. It has all the preservatives and chemicals you love.”

“Yum!” Flinch said. He took a huge bite and immediately felt the sugar in his system. He beat on his chest, shouted “Grabbberler!,” and leaped into the sky.

New York City from ten thousand feet was eye-popping. The steel buildings shot skyward in a crown of silver and glass. A grid of streets and avenues covered nearly every square inch of the island. But there was something even more amazing for Flinch to gawk at—himself. His suit was a creamy blue that matched the color of the sky. When he fell through clouds, his suit turned white to mimic them.

“Pretty cool, amigos!” he shouted into the com-link.

As he was admiring the new technology, he heard Pufferfish’s voice in his head. “Our target is on the move, team. He’s on Thirty-third Street heading east, and I don’t like where he’s going.”

“You’re worried about a specific place?” Flinch said.

“One of the biggest and most famous buildings in New York City: the Empire State Building.”

“That’s not cool!” Braceface cried. “He can’t shrink it until I get to see it first.”

“So what’s the plan?” Pufferfish asked.

Flinch had no idea, but he was smart enough not to admit it. He sorted through all the possibilities, but the boost of sugar from the cupcake made it hard to concentrate on a single plan.

“Flinch, did you hear Pufferfish?” Wheezer asked. “How do you want to handle this?”

“Let’s go beat him up,” Flinch said, tilting his body so he was facedown and plummeting fast and furious toward the ground. His teammates did the same, and together the five of them were missiles speeding toward the ground.

“Prepare to deploy parachutes!” Wheezer shouted. “On three. One! Two! Three!”

Flinch pulled his rip cord, and his parachute exploded out of his pack. Suddenly, he was jerked up as air filled his chute. He and the team drifted down like feathers.

He spotted a park, so he directed the others to it. They touched down on green grass, where crowds of people were enjoying the lovely day. The team detached their chutes, which were now just as emerald as the lawn, and tucked them into their backpacks. Normally, they would have just left them, but they didn’t need someone tripping over space-age technology.

Pufferfish had her computer out and was already tracking Mr. Miniature. “We’re about ten blocks from the Empire State Building,” she said, scanning the horizon and then pointing above the trees. “There!” Flinch glanced down the street. It was a beautiful building, like a tall, silver Popsicle.

“Let’s get moving,” Pufferfish said, but they hadn’t taken a single step when a mob of people ran straight at them, screaming and shouting for help. The mob ran through traffic into the park, and because the NERDS were still invisible, they were nearly trampled.

“I guess he’s that way,” Flinch said. “We need some transportation, Braceface.”

Jackson’s braces sprang out of his mouth, forming an enormous dune buggy. Everyone climbed aboard and they motored in the direction of the skyscraper.

“So what’s the plan?” Matilda snapped. Flinch turned to her, surprised by her angry tone. Her face looked pale and she was sweating.

“Are you OK?” Flinch asked.

“Just a headache. I’ll be fine. Let’s do this,” Matilda said.

Pufferfish was furiously at work on her computer. She pulled up a street map of the area. “OK, I’ve deactivated all security cameras in a five-block radius and grounded all news helicopters. Plus, I shut down cell service so whatever happens, it’s not going to end up on the Internet. Now, I think the best thing is—”

“It’s Flinch’s mission,” Duncan said.

Pufferfish’s arms swelled up to the size of eggplants. She was allergic to not being in charge. “Yeah … OK.”