Super Cats v Maximus Fang Read online

  Books by Gwyneth Rees

  Super Cats

  Super Cats v Maximus Fang

  For older readers

  Cherry Blossom Dreams

  Earth to Daniel

  The Honeymoon Sisters

  Libby in the Middle

  The Mum Hunt

  For Rémy, with love

  CHAPTER ONE

  A NOT SO PURR-FECT AGENT

  Tagg swiftly scanned the alley for an escape route, his tabby tail bushing up as he realised it was a dead end.

  ‘GET HIM!’ yelled a gigantic bruiser of a ginger tom, the leader of the attack cats chasing him.

  ‘Where’d he go?’ another cat shouted as they rounded the corner of the alley.

  ‘Those super cats are full of creepy tricks! Just stay alert!’ said another of the attack cats.

  Tagg was miffed. Creepy tricks? More like awesome powers!

  Tagg’s power was camouflage, which meant he could merge into his surroundings so completely that he almost became invisible. It was a super-useful skill for a secret agent.

  As the attack cats moved further into the alley, Tagg’s paw brushed against a dry leaf, making the tiniest of crackles. It was enough for the ginger tom to swivel his head sharply and stare straight in his direction.

  Uh-oh … The cat reached for the gun in his furry ginger holster, which he fired directly at Tagg! It was a splatter gun filled with bright blue paint that stuck to his fur, making his superpower useless. Seconds later, the three attack cats surrounded him, their claws unsheathed, ready to tear him to shreds.

  A sharp mew came from behind Tagg, and with a sinking heart he turned to face his leader and commander, Topaz Top Cat.

  ‘STAND DOWN!’ ordered the portly grey female in her sternest miaow.

  As her brilliant greeny-blue eyes fixed on Tagg, he squirmed. ‘You’re lucky this was only a training exercise, Agent Tagg!’ Topaz scolded him, swishing her sleek tail in annoyance. ‘Blind alleys do not make good escape routes. You should know that by now. And a good decoy does NOT end up DEAD unless it is absolutely necessary!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Tagg murmured.

  ‘At least he led them away from me!’ a cheery voice piped up from behind them. ‘I got the microchipped goldfish safely back in our own fish pond, as ordered!’

  ‘Sugarfoot!’ Tagg exclaimed as his best friend and partner waved at him. Her fur was totally black, apart from one white paw. Her dainty appearance hid an unbelievably awesome superpower, for Sugarfoot had a super yowl that could deafen all living creatures for miles around, not to mention smash windows and crumble walls.

  ‘Even if the mission was a success,’ Topaz lectured Tagg sternly, ‘this is the third time you’ve died this week. You should have activated your superpower before you dodged into the alley. Then the attack cats would have run straight past you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Tagg said. ‘I didn’t think.’

  ‘A good agent always thinks,’ Topaz scolded, her eyes flashing. She turned to the ginger tom and said in a clipped mew, ‘There’s a rather vicious sprinkler system in the garden across the road. Shove him under it, will you? I don’t want him dripping paint all over HQ.’

  Tagg was thoroughly drenched and shivering by the time he and Sugarfoot headed through the park to Super Cat Headquarters.

  ‘Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a secret agent,’ he said miserably.

  ‘Don’t let Topaz get to you, Tagg,’ Sugarfoot tried to comfort him. ‘She’s just upset at the thought of having to tell your parents that something terrible has happened to you. You know the oldies go way back.’

  Tagg’s and Sugarfoot’s parents were all super cats who had once worked alongside Topaz, catching villains and stopping bad guys. Superpowers ran in their families. Tagg’s father, Chester, was super strong, and his mother, Melody, had super claws. Sugarfoot’s parents had super speed and an incredibly powerful lick.

  ‘Look who it is!’ Sugarfoot suddenly mewed.

  They had reached the abandoned park keeper’s cottage that doubled as Topaz’s headquarters, and outside – sharpening his claws on a tree trunk – was Tagg’s older brother, Rowdy. He was a stripy tabby cat like Tagg, but without the white tummy and tail tip. He had super strength like their dad, and he was also a member of Topaz’s team.

  ‘How are the new recruits then?’ he called out. ‘Topaz keeping you on your toes?’ Without waiting for a response, he added, ‘She sent me to fetch you – there’s big news. Remember my mate Marshmallow, who’s been working undercover with Hamish the hit cat and his gang? Well, he’s brought us some important information. Come on.’

  There was no time for any further discussion as Rowdy mewed a greeting to the two guard cats outside before taking them into HQ, where a meeting was in full swing.

  ‘But their training isn’t complete,’ Topaz was saying, ‘and Tagg is still not ready. For one thing, he’s far too impulsive.’

  ‘Nevertheless, they know the territory,’ said a big white cat, who Tagg and Sugarfoot instantly recognised as Marshmallow. ‘Hey, kids. How are you doing?’ he greeted them.

  ‘I know they made a good impression on Hamish, but they were only kittens back then,’ Topaz said, ignoring the two youngsters as she continued her argument. ‘He didn’t see them as much of a threat, but things might be different now.’

  Good impression? Tagg exchanged a puzzled look with Sugarfoot. What was Topaz talking about? Tagg thought back to the time he and Sugarfoot had gone to the woods looking for the hit cats. Sugarfoot’s dad was missing and they’d followed a clue to Hamish’s hideout. The brief encounter they’d had there was terrifying – and they’d barely escaped with their nine lives!

  ‘Hamish actually liked you two,’ Marshmallow told them with a grin. ‘He thought you had guts.’

  ‘I suppose you’d better join the meeting,’ Topaz said, waving them into the centre of the room. ‘Marshmallow intercepted a message from Hamish’s brother, Gory Gus.’ There was a collective intake of breath at the news.

  ‘Gory Gus?’ Tagg just managed not to giggle at the silly name.

  ‘Gory Gus is the worst type of killer cat,’ Topaz said gravely. ‘He loves the sight of blood and makes a horrible mess whenever he strikes. He’s also a super cat with the power of telekinesis – which means he can move objects with his mind. Our organisation nearly caught him three years ago, but he escaped and fled the country on a plane bound for South America. He’s just arrived back and is planning to break out his partner, Maximus Fang, from prison.’

  ‘Maximus Fang?’ questioned Tagg. He’d never heard that name either.

  ‘He’s a very powerful and evil super cat,’ Topaz told them, ‘which is why we cannot let Gus succeed. If they are reunited, there’s no telling the chaos they could cause. It would be catastrophic. We need you to join Hamish’s gang of killer hit cats and find out more about the plan.’

  ‘But can’t Marshmallow—’ Sugarfoot began.

  ‘I had to fake my own death to get out of there quickly,’ Marshmallow interrupted. ‘There’s no going back for me. This mission will be all down to you!’

  ‘But what makes you think he’ll let us join his gang?’ asked Tagg.

  Topaz sighed. ‘We’re not completely sure, but Marshmallow is right. Hamish already likes you, so you’re our best hope. I’m not happy about this but I don’t see any other way. The mission will commence at nightfall tomorrow. Until then, Marshmallow will teach you everything he knows about being a hit cat, and Rowdy will coach you in working undercover.’

  That afternoon Tagg and Sugarfoot learned lots of expressions for the art of killing.

  Whereas Topaz’s organisation tended to stick to rather formal words such as ‘elimina
ted’, ‘neutralised’ or ‘terminated’, in the hit-cat camp the phrases were far more colourful. A target could be totalled, zeroed, bumped off, bye-byed, taken out, done done in, iced, dispatched, whacked, wasted, fish-sliced, cat-trayed or sent-to-to-the-dog-food-factory. .

  ‘But what if they don’t believe us?’ Tagg worried. ‘What if they guess that we’re just there to spy on them?’

  ‘Well then,’ Marshmallow said, ‘you’d better give a convincing performance, because if Hamish suspects you’re spies, you’ll be fish food before you know it!’

  Tagg growled under his breath. ‘Fish food?’

  ‘He means dead,’ Rowdy said bluntly. ‘The river that runs past the back of their den is the perfect place to get rid of bodies.’

  Sugarfoot nodded solemnly but Tagg gulped. He just hoped he could pull this off.

  The following evening, Tagg was resting at home, waiting for nightfall. His mother, Melody, was keen to feed him up, so there were ripped-open sachets of cat food all over the kitchen floor and their whole house smelt strongly of meaty chunks in jelly. Luckily, their humans were away for the weekend.

  ‘We’re so proud of you,’ Melody purred as she gave Tagg a lick to smooth down the stubborn bit of fur on top of his head.

  ‘We’ll be even more proud if you come back alive,’ said his father, Chester. ‘Don’t get too cocky – that’s the main thing.’

  ‘You just have to make sure you stay in character,’ Rowdy added. ‘You’re a pair of tough wannabe murderers, so no getting distracted chasing butterflies.’

  Before Tagg could protest that he wasn’t a scatty kitten any more, he smelt a familiar pong and heard a wheeze as his great-uncle Bill limped into view, clutching a small furry object between his toothless jaws.

  ‘Uncle Bill, you’ve actually caught a mouse. Well … half a mouse,’ Tagg corrected himself with a grin, inspecting what was left as his uncle dropped it to the floor.

  ‘Took ages to catch the little blighter, scampering around everywhere … played havoc with my arthritis, it did,’ the elderly cat complained.

  ‘Uncle Bill, why don’t you tell Tagg what you know about Gory Gus and Maximus Fang,’ Melody prompted.

  ‘Well, Maximus’s power is weather control,’ Uncle Bill began. ‘After he got together with Gory Gus, the pair of them caused mayhem across the whole country. Storms, flooding, you name it. Humans, as well as thousands of cats, lost their homes, and any cat that tried to stop them was killed by lightning or sucked inside a tornado.

  ‘Maximus and Gus were the most dangerous duo you could ever meet.’

  ‘Uncle Bill was on the team that finally caught Maximus,’ Melody said proudly. ‘It was just before the last of his super teeth fell out. It’s partly down to him that Maximus is safely locked up in Cat’s End Prison, where he can’t hurt anyone.’

  ‘Cat’s End Prison?’ Tagg queried.

  ‘It’s a secret high-security underground prison where Maximus Fang is kept under lock and key. He has absolutely no exposure to the skies above, making him powerless,’ Chester told him. ‘It’s built in an abandoned underground train station in Stoke Mewington.’

  Tagg shuddered. ‘Sounds horrible.’

  Uncle Bill snorted dismissively. ‘It’s better than he deserves. He’s got his own exercise yard and poo plot, and plenty of evil pals to hang out with.’

  ‘Tagg, it’s nearly time for you to go and meet Sugarfoot,’ Melody interrupted quickly, glancing out at the darkening sky. ‘Now remember what we’ve told you – look after each other and don’t take any unnecessary risks.’

  Chester gave his son a lick. ‘And use your head – not just your superpower. No matter how desperate things get, it’s always worth taking a second to stop and think.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  AN UNDERCOVER MISSION

  It was a few months since Tagg and Sugarfoot had first ventured to the hit cats’ hideout. Back then they hadn’t even developed their superpowers, and Tagg had only just learned that he belonged to a family of super cats. Now he was a secret agent on his very first mission. He couldn’t believe how much had changed.

  As the two friends picked out the path, guided only by moonlight, the thick woods were eerily quiet. They soon came to the first of the wooden signs Tagg remembered from last time. Written in bold Cat Scratch, it said:

  Hamish’s Hits this way!

  The ‘Half-price Hits’ special offer sign was gone, and when they reached a new sign, Tagg felt sure that the fees (in frozen fish or fresh mice) for Hamish’s various services had gone up considerably. At the bottom it read:

  Winter IOUs accepted only if paying in baby birds.

  When they reached the spot where they’d first met Hamish, the two cats paused, uncertain what to do next. The path petered out and the moon had disappeared behind a cloud.

  ‘Which way shall we go?’ whispered Tagg.

  ‘Shhh. Listen …’ Sugarfoot’s ears were twitching as she stood stock-still.

  Tagg listened too and soon heard a low rumble. ‘What is it? The river?’

  ‘Maybe. Only one way to find out.’ Sugarfoot pushed past him, heading towards the strange noise.

  The mysterious sound grew louder and suddenly Tagg recognised it as the same noise he heard when he approached Uncle Bill’s summer house during his naptime. ‘Snoring!’ he exclaimed.

  The moon came out again just as they arrived at an opening between the trees. There, under a canopy of branches and leaves, the hit-cat gang lay sleeping all together, some resting their heads or outstretched paws on the cat next to them, while others curled up alone. They certainly didn’t look the least bit dangerous.

  ‘Well, well, well … what have we here?’ came a gruff voice from behind them, making them jump in fright.

  ‘Lost our way in the woods, did we?’ came another unfriendly miaow.

  Before he could speak, Tagg was pounced on and thrown roughly to the ground, where he lay belly-up in submission. Sugarfoot hissed as she received the same treatment.

  ‘Wait … we only want to see Hamish!’ Tagg managed to shout. ‘We want to join his gang!’

  ‘WHAT’S ALL THE RACKET?’ came an angry male voice with a strong Scottish accent.

  ‘Intruders, boss. They’re asking to see you.’

  Hamish grunted crossly. ‘How dare they! If they don’t watch out I’ll be the last thing they ever see!’

  Tagg found himself trembling as an enormous grizzled tomcat emerged from the shadows. ‘Who are you, laddie, and what are you doing here? You’ve got ten seconds to explain – and it’d better be good!’

  ‘Yeah,’ put in the thin grey cat who was holding Sugarfoot. ‘You picked the wrong cat to wake up in the middle of the night, didn’t he, boss?’

  ‘Shut up, Kenny!’

  As Hamish pushed his fearsome face closer to Tagg’s, he growled, ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’

  ‘W-w-we met you w-when we were l-looking for …’ Tagg started to gag, partly from nerves and partly from the smell of Hamish’s rotten breath.

  ‘Looking for my dad,’ Sugarfoot took over swiftly. ‘You were right that Nemesissy shouldn’t be trusted,’ she continued, naming the super villain who Hamish had previously had a spat with.

  ‘Wait – I do remember you two. You’re the youngsters we caught romping about in my territory, bold as brass … all guts and no sense … that’s what I said to Marshmallow …’ Suddenly the fearsome cat’s voice cracked with emotion and he ducked his head down and bit his own paw.

  ‘Boss, you really shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened to Marshmallow,’ Kenny said.

  ‘But I do! He was my right paw, my first lieutenant, my family … I should never have given him that whole sack of mice!’

  ‘But you didn’t know he’d eat them all in one go! Or go swimming straight afterwards! I mean, it’s weird anyway – a cat going swimming, but—’

  As if coming to his senses, Hamish turned his back on Kenny and growled fiercely,
‘So what do you two want?’

  ‘We want to join your gang,’ said Tagg, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

  ‘Oh, really?’ laughed Hamish. ‘Well, I don’t take kindly to anyone disturbing my sleep, so you’d better hope I’m in a nicer mood when I wake up again in the morning!’

  He grabbed Tagg and Sugarfoot by their scruffs and threw them to Kenny. ‘Secure these two until morning. Then I’ll decide what to do with them!’

  At first light, Tagg and Sugarfoot were let out of their prison – a large, upturned wooden crate which two fat hit cats had been sleeping on all night. Hamish towered over them and snarled. ‘Time for your job interviews, ya cheeky wee squirts!’

  Tagg gulped. ‘Interview?’

  ‘Aye! You want to join my crew, don’t you? Well, we’re not some slipshod organisation that employs just anybody, you know. Now … come with me …’ He gave Tagg a shove. ‘Escort the young lady, lads!’

  Tagg was led to the bank of a slow-flowing, murky-looking river, where Hamish pointed at an unstable rock overhanging the water. Remembering what Rowdy had said about this being the perfect dumping place for bodies, Tagg couldn’t help shuddering.

  Hamish was clearly enjoying Tagg’s discomfort. ‘Nothing like the prospect of a wee dip to focus the mind, eh?’

  Tagg pulled a face. He didn’t like water at the best of times, even though he could now swim – after being forced to learn in a local pond as part of his training with Topaz.

  Taking a deep breath, Tagg jumped up to perch on the rock, steadying himself as it wobbled under his weight and trying not to look down at the water. He couldn’t help noticing a stain on the rock just under his front paw. It was a browny-red colour. Could it be blood?

  Behind Hamish, the other hit cats gathered to watch, pushing Sugarfoot to the front, where she would have a good view.

  ‘OK,’ Hamish said. ‘First question …’ He paused dramatically. ‘Why do you think I’d want a puny wee thing like you in my gang?’