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Informationen zum Autor Elizabeth Cage is the pseudonym of a noted young adult author. Her true identity and current whereabouts are classified. Klappentext The Spy Girls are hightailing it to Asia to scope out "Luscious" Lucien West, a hypnotically hot guru with a way-devoted following. Lucien and his young American recruits are turning the tiny depressed country of Kinh-Sanh into a land of peace and harmony. But Lucien may have more than world peace on his mind. Like total world domination, for example! Once the Spy Girls got oh-so-close to their tempting target, will they read him his rights...or fall under his spell? Leseprobe Chapter One "Somewhere there's a convertible missing its fuzzy dice," Caylin Pike remarked as she stroked the sleeve of an obnoxious purple mohair sweater. "Some people pay a lot of money to look like fuzzy dice," Jo Carreras replied, glancing at the price tag on the garment. "But it's not quite me." "Are you kidding?" Caylin said with a laugh. "It looks like someone skinned Barney." Jo rolled her eyes. "I forgot who I was browsing with. If it can't be sweated in, it's not fit to be worn, right, Cay?" She and Caylin continued their mondo browse fest, chatting and maneuvering between close-knit racks of endless fashion. It's nice to have some downtime, Jo thought. Seems like we spend every waking moment trying to save the free world, but we hardly ever have a spare minute to enjoy our American-born right to shop till we drop. But the time was now. She and Cay were on the fifth floor of Bogart's, one of the biggest and most exclusive department stores in New York City. Although few and way too far between, shopping sprees were one of the many perks of being a Spy Girl. From the moment they had walked through the front door, they had been assaulted by infinite temptations and combinations: dresses, blouses, suits, sweaters. Cotton, polyester, wool, knit blends. Ah, but then they also had to accessorize: earrings, bags, shoes, fragrances, scarves. The sheer amount of merchandise was almost too much for a Spy Girl to comprehend. Almost. Jo was all over everything. Playing dress up was her second-favorite contact sport, after saving the world. Which she had actually done a few times. As a Spy Girl she had defused bombs, been shot at from snowmobiles, and fallen out of airplanes. Not to mention the many times she had used her stunning good looks to turn the heads of several charming enemies of the state. Could she help it that bad guys seemed drawn to her flowing dark hair? Her black eyes and Latina complexion? Her flawless fashion sense? The only problem was her tendency to fall for the wrong men at the wrong times. Oh, well, she thought. No one said world peace was easy. Caylin Pike wasn't so flighty, Jo knew. Her idea of a good time was slipping her long blond hair into a ponytail, slapping on the gloves, and having a long session of kick boxing. How savage. Her fashion desires ran more toward cross trainers and running tights. But for this little excursion she had settled for jeans and a baseball jersey. Sometimes Jo just didn't understand that girl. But baseball players were kind of cute.... Caylin and Jo made up two-thirds of the team known as the Spy Girls. They had been recruited from their various real lives as teenagers and trained in the art of espionage. If you asked Jo, they had become quite good, thank you very much. During one late-night movie fest with the other girls, Jo had offered her theory why they had taken to spying so easily: Teenagers are already superspies. They are world-class information gatherers (gossip and secrets), superb infiltrators (sneaking into the movies and hot new nightdubs), and expert evaders (ditching school and ducking teachers). Just add in some language and weapons training and presto! Jane Bond is born. Jo sighed and gazed helplessly at the endless r...
