Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 Hamilton Holt was the first to hit the pavement, followed by his sisters, who tumbled out in big- time wrestling mode, beating the tar out of each other. The Holts had tracked Dan and Amy all the way from Cairo in search of Clues, hotwiring a 1970s Eastern European van the moment they touched down in Russia. Landing at the Volgograd airport, they'd had no idea where to turn next, but the Holts were nothing if not conspicuously American. The same Russian who had picked up Amy and Dan smelled money and moved in for the kill. It didn't take long to put two and two together. Ten minutes later, the Russian was a hundred dollars richer and the Holts knew right where to go. Gazing up at The Motherland Calls, Hamilton could tell that he'd finally arrived in a foreign land that might actually appreciate his size and

strength. "Gather round, troops!" howled Eisenhower Holt, the kingpin of the sweat-suited band of Neanderthals. "Hamilton, front and center!" Hamilton, the biggest and brawniest of the three Holt kids, darted to within three inches of his father's face and screamed, "SIR, YES SIR!" "Son, you've got protein-bar breath and you're spraying spit again. Get it under control!" Hamilton's face fell. It was hard to scream those Ss without showering someone. "Won't happen again, SIR!" Eisenhower nodded in stern approval. "You're on point. It's our most important task. Figure out what those nitwits are up to and report back. Drag 'em back to the van if you have to. Got your two-way?" Hamilton pulled a two-way radio out of his pocket, hit the call button, and screamed into it. "SIR, YES SIR!" Eisenhower pulled out his own radio and screamed right back. "GO GET 'EM, BOY!"

Hamilton bolted toward the towering statue, proud to be at the center of the action. He glanced back at his family. His younger sisters, Reagan and Madison, were already duct-taping a GPS under the sidecar on Dan's motorbike. They complained bitterly about being hungry, and then Madison punched Reagan in the shoulder, which seemed to make her feel a little better. Mary-Todd, their mom, was on surveillance in the van, keeping an eye out for other teams. "Must eat!" bellowed Eisenhower. The last thing Hamilton heard was his dad yelling something about spying a food cart loaded down with Russian meat pies. It didn't take Hamilton long to spot Amy lurking around the front of The Motherland Calls. She was running her fingers along the stone, peering carefully at every seam and corner. What's that scrawny geek up to, and where's that stupid little brother of hers? He turned and saw Dan approaching from the other side of the statue. One was standing thirty feet to his left, the other ten feet to his right, and he didn't know which one to go after. The

thought of disappointing his dad, again, put him in a cold sweat. "Hey, Hamilton!" yelled Dan. "Did you see me on that motorcycle? Better than that donkey you were riding in Cairo!" "It was a Vespa, you moron! And come say that to my face!" Then, with Hamilton looking on, Dan signaled his sister by turning his hand as if he needed a key. Hey! Do they think I'm stupid? "Looks like someone's got a key," yelled Hamilton, turning to Amy as his two-way radio went off. "Get moving!" boomed Eisenhower. "We've got company!" Hamilton, Amy, and Dan all swiveled toward the parking lot in unison. Ian and Natalie Kabra were pulling up in a white stretch limousine, almost as if they couldn't bother to be inconspicuous. Eisenhower Holt started peppering the limo with meat pies from a huge bag, taking a bite out of each one before letting it fly. From a distance, it looked as if Eisenhower was unpinning hand grenades and throwing them into a bunker.

"Your dad is a menace. You know that, right?" asked Dan. He'd moved within ten wary feet of Hamilton, motioning Amy to toss him the glass paperweight. Amy dug inside the backpack, but Hamilton took four big steps and cornered her. "What's in the bag? Come on, fork it over!" said Hamilton, looming over Amy. He was just about to rip the backpack out of her hands when Amy said something that shocked him. "The K-K-K-Kabras are closing in on us," said Amy. Hamilton could tell she was desperately trying to get her voice under control. "How many c-c-clues do you have?" Hamilton stopped cold. "We've got plenty! More than you two losers, I'm sure." "We have ten. You have ten?" said Dan, looking Hamilton straight in the eye. His sister shifted from foot to foot, eyeing both of them warily. Grace had taught Dan how to bluff like a Vegas poker player, and Hamilton didn't know what to think. "You got TEN? No way you got ten!" Dad is going to freak out if we're that behind! he thought.

Police were beginning to swarm the place, making sure the mischief breaking out in the parking lot didn't spill over into the park itself. "You could be a hero, Hamilton," said Amy. "You want to come back with something useful, don't you?" That one hit Hamilton right between the eyes. There was nothing he wanted more than to please Eisenhower Holt. "What have you got in mind?" he asked, glaring down at them. He waited, watching the two Cahills as they stared at each other like each could read the other's mind. Finally, Dan nodded. "Let's get the show on the road before it's too late," he said. "This way!" Dan led the three of them around to the back of The Motherland Calls. The base of the statue was about as wide as a skyscraper, and the whole way around, Hamilton wondered if he should clobber Dan and Amy and take the backpack. Calm down! Let it play out! If they trick you, then you can clobber 'em! "Can you radio your dad?" Amy asked. "Tell