The Villain Virus

With watery eyes he tried to focus on the thing, but he couldn’t get a clear glimpse. He could only tell one thing: It was getting bigger—much bigger. In a matter of seconds it was as big as a dog, and then as big as a little boy. Finally, it rose to its full height and Heathcliff realized what it was—a woman. Or least he thought it was a woman. She was wearing some kind of suit—like for traveling in space—complete with a huge helmet. The figure removed the helmet to reveal a black mask covering her face. The mask had a big white skull painted on the front of it.

The woman glanced around the room as if getting her bearings. “I’m back! How long have I been gone?”

“Who are you?” Heathcliff stammered.

The woman chuckled. “Why, sweetie, I’m the lady who’s going to take over the world.”

A supersecret thank-you to my nerds and the true heroes of this series: my two editors, Susan Van Metre and Maggie Lehrman, who help turn these fu

About the Author

Michael Buckley, a former member of NERDS, now spends his time writing. In addition to the top-secret file you are holding, Michael has written the New York Times bestselling Sisters Grimm series, which has been published in more than twenty languages. He has also created shows for Discovery Cha

This book was art directed and designed by Agent Chad W. Beckerman. The illustrations were created by Agent Ethen Beavers.

The principal of Thomas Knowlton Middle School was working at his desk when the ninjas attacked. They wore black masks and held sharp swords over their heads. One crashed through the door with a high-pitched wail, his deadly weapon slicing the air, but he was stopped in his tracks when the principal karate-chopped him in the Adam’s apple. Ouch! Another ninja climbed through the window, but his head was crushed when the principal slammed it shut. Oof! A third ninja dropped from an air duct in the ceiling. His nunchucks swirled in deadly arcs, wrapping around the principal’s beefy forearm. But that was a mistake the ninja would forever regret, because the principal used the nunchucks to yank the ninja forward for a skull-splitting head butt. Lights out!

When it looked like the attack was over, two more ninjas popped out of the drawers of a steel file cabinet and attacked using their fists and feet, knocking the principal backward onto his desk. They held him down and, chuckling arrogantly, removed gleaming daggers from the folds of their clothes. But the principal was trained in several martial arts and highly proficient in the monkey, snake, and crane fighting styles. Plus, he was Irish, so he knew his way around a street fight. He snatched a stapler off his desk and slammed it into one ninja’s forehead and then the other’s. Both men cried out in agony and stumbled backward, onto the bodies of their fallen brothers.

The principal stood over the pile of broken villains. Then he started to applaud. “Thanks, guys,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah . . . ,” the men groaned as they staggered to their feet.

One of the ninjas took off his mask, revealing a chubby face and a large bald spot in the center of his curly brown hair. He didn’t look like a ninja. He looked like an accountant.

“Did we at least surprise you this time?” he groused.

The principal nodded. “Absolutely, Randy. I was completely taken off guard. I didn’t see the file cabinet thing coming at all. That was a nice touch.”

“He’s just saying that because he doesn’t want to hurt our feelings,” another ninja groaned. Underneath his mask he had bright red hair and a face full of freckles.

“No, Barry. I really was intimidated.”

Randy shook his head. “I don’t know why you want us to do this, anyway. You’re the boss now. Your biggest fear should be getting a paper cut or someone parking in your designated space. Why keep training?”

“You don’t actually miss your old job, do you?” Barry asked.

“Miss my old job? No! That’s ridiculous. Why would I miss it?”

“I have no idea,” Randy said. “It was humiliating. You’re a decorated war hero, and they put you in that stupid school kitchen with the hairnet and the Tater Tots. What a waste! This promotion was long overdue. You deserve to be director of the National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society, so take it easy.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, guys, but I’m fine,” the principal said. “I’ve got to get back to work. See you next week?”

“Not if we see you first,” Barry said as he slunk out the window.

The others vanished through the air ducts and into the filing cabinet. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

The principal put the upended coatrack back in its place, adjusted his portrait of the president of the United States on the wall, and gathered what was left of his office supplies.

He looked at the stack of paperwork on his desk and sighed. Truth was, he didn’t know how to take it easy. He did miss the adventure of the field. There was nothing as satisfying as the sound of a bad guy’s nose breaking beneath his fist. But what he really missed was . . . well, if anyone found out, he would be the laughing stock of the espionage community. He crossed the room to a small file cabinet locked tight with fourteen different dead bolts. He fished seven of the keys out of his pockets, opened the hollow heel in his left shoe for another, found two in between his big toe and his second toe, and four more in a secret pocket at the base of his pant leg. When he had unlocked all the bolts, he opened the cabinet and pulled out his most prized possessions: a spatula, a pair of orthopedic sneakers, a hairnet, and a flowery smock.

He caressed them lovingly. Why was it so hard to let go of his previous job as the school’s lunch lady? Why did he miss the heat lamps, corn nuggets, and fish surprise?

Suddenly, the phone rang. It wasn’t the phone on his desk. It was the phone. He stuffed his kitchen tools back in the cabinet and raced to his desk. Underneath his coffee mug was a glowing red button. He slammed it hard with the palm of his hand and watched as his drab, poorly decorated office went through a dramatic transformation. The yellowing walls flipped over to reveal banks of computers and electronic maps of the world. His ancient, clunky desk sank into the floor and was replaced with a blinking, beeping control panel. The grimy ceiling fan collapsed in on itself, and a large television monitor took its place. The glossy black screen blinked to life and his boss, a tough-as-nails five-star general named Savage, appeared on it.