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“Care to enlighten us?” Noah asked, his voice going all sugary sweet.
The members of the other teams took a few steps to the side, moving away from Think Tank like they were radioactive. The two men and two women, no longer the young, innocent-looking students of five seasons back, looked absolutely terrified.
“Well then I guessI’llbe the one to spill the beans,” Noah sighed in disappointment. “Seems that John and Raina actually knocked a few of the matchable plates behind the display tables at their portion of the fifth checkpoint.” His eyebrows suddenly knitted together. “And by ‘knocked’ I mean put, and by ‘accidentally’ I mean totally on purpose.”
One by one, everyone’s mouth dropped open. Most members of the Boston Banshees and Need for Speed were scowling. Even the crew looked not only dismayed, but just as pissed as we were.
“So we watched the footage a dozen times just to make sure,” Noah went on, “ and the intent is more than obvious. It goes without saying that hiding clues is strictly against the rules of the Insane World Race. I mean, we may be insane…” he paused to put on a shit-eating grin. “But we’d never condonecheating.”
The left half of Think Tank began parting ways with the right. Sahana and Oscar, the neurosurgeon, appeared absolutely furious. The two guilty members looked totally gutted.
“Think Tank,” said Noah grimly. “I’m sorry to say you’ve been disqualified. And by ‘sorry’, I mean glad. And by ‘disqualified’, I mean the two of you who were stupid enough to pull this shit can head to the airport and find your own rides home.”
A cheer went up from the other teams, as we stood numbly on the checkpoint platform. And then it hit me: the ramifications of what just happened. What it meant forus.
“Dream Team?” Noah grinned, turning back to face us.
I felt the energy around us instantly change. Two strong hands on either side of me slid into my palms, clasping mine.
“Congratulations on making the final three!”
