Читать книгу Prince Incognito - Rachelle McCalla - Страница 13

THREE

Lillian staggered back, as the soldier who’d rescued her from the sea dispatched a flurry of kicks at the soldiers who swarmed the deck of her father’s sloop. The first two fell and didn’t rise. He disarmed the next, pulling the intimidatingly large gun off the man’s back and knocking him in the head with the end of it, sending him keeling back into the fourth soldier, who drew his gun, only to have it kicked from his hand, clattering across the deck.

It was her uncle David who ended it, pulling out his own gun and grabbing her by the arm, shoving the cold metal up under her jaw so hard her head snapped sideways.

“Stop!”

The soldier spun around, his blue eyes immediately sizing up the situation. “Let her go.”

Lillian glanced at her parents, who were cowering in the doorway of the pilothouse. She waited for them to reprimand her uncle, to demand he put away the gun that he held to her head.

They shrank back, fear on their faces, and said nothing.

“You’ll come with me.” David glowered at the soldier. “And if you make one false move, Lillian won’t be here to save you the next time.”

The soldier closed his eyes in submission.

The other uniformed men rose from where they’d fallen, warily grasping the soldier as the helicopter that had been hovering just beyond the boat moved closer. Lillian saw that her parents had lowered the sails to keep the whirling rotors from harming them. They must have welcomed her uncle aboard as she’d been below, bandaging up the soldier’s face again, the sounds of the helicopter drowned out by the ambient noise of the ship and the sea.

A ladder dangled from the helicopter, and David nodded toward it. “Climb,” he told the soldier.

The man stepped forward, grabbed the rungs, and ascended. One by one, the rest of the soldiers followed him up, disappearing into the shadowy bird that hovered over them in the night sky.

David pulled her toward the ladder.

Finally, her father stepped forward. “You can’t take Lillian.”

“I don’t have any choice.” David lowered the gun, but kept it pointed at her. “You saw how he responded when I threatened her. He didn’t hesitate. She may be the only effective weapon I have against him.”

“You won’t hurt her?”

“She’ll be fine.”

Sandra Bardici peeked her head around her husband’s shoulder. “Can she change into dry clothes first? She doesn’t even have shoes on.”

David Bardici looked up and down her simple outfit of khaki pants and a pale pink T-shirt. “Her clothes will dry soon enough. Can you wear those shoes?” He pointed to her sneakers, which were still on the deck where she’d kicked them off earlier.

While Lily hurried to slip into the shoes, her uncle leaned closer to her father. She had to listen closely to hear him over the roar of the helicopter. “Does she know who he is?”

“He doesn’t even know who he is. The explosions wiped out his memory.”

“Temporarily, I hope.” David grimaced. “His memory may be our only link to vital intelligence. We need that information as soon as possible.”

Lily listened to their conversation with shock pulsing through her veins. She’d never liked her uncle, but to have him suddenly pull a gun on her—worse yet, to use a threat against her life to control the man who’d rescued her from the sea—rocked her world far more than the angry waves stirred up by the low-hovering helicopter’s rotors.

But her uncle David’s behavior fit with his personality, even if it was extreme. And her parents—they’d been acting odd since before the trip to Lydia, and even more so once they’d arrived. Their broken promises compiled a strong case against them. Obviously neither of them was about to challenge David’s demands.

No, she couldn’t expect either of them to help her any more than they’d spoken up to defend her when uncle David had slammed the gun under her jaw. The only person who’d reacted had been the soldier.

The thought of him sent a trickle of comfort through her. She recalled how gently he’d swept the matted hair from her face as he’d propped her up on the life preserver. He’d not only untangled her leg from the rope, but he’d massaged her tight calf muscle, almost as though he’d known the rope had bit into it, causing it to cramp. And then he’d held her, so firmly and so securely, as he’d pulled her back onto the boat.

She couldn’t recall a time when she’d felt so protected.

With the shoes on, she stood, and her mother gave her a cursory hug, as she had so many times when Lily headed back to school for the semester. “Please call and let us know what’s happening.” She looked at David, not even blinking at the gun he brandished. “I don’t suppose you can tell us where you’re headed?”

“North Africa. We need to get going or we won’t have enough fuel left to make it there.” David shoved her toward the ladder.

Lillian looked up at the thunderous bird hovering above them, its dark shape blending with the night sky, making it look infinitely large. She wasn’t particularly keen on ladders or heights, especially ladders ascending to nowhere, with gun-bearing soldiers awaiting her on top.

“Climb up.” Her uncle’s voice grew impatient, the threat of his gun reinforcing each word.

She told herself not to be afraid, not because she felt she could trust her uncle, but because she knew the nameless soldier was up there, and she hoped he could protect her. She grasped the nearest rung and began to climb.

* * *

He tried to shift his body into a less-uncomfortable position, but the soldiers had used a thick zip tie to bind his wrists behind his back, so he had only limited use of his arms. Shifting his back against the cool metal wall of the helicopter, he stared at the soldiers who sat on the other side of the luggage netting, guns resting across their laps, pointed at him.

No one moved. The bird hovered, waiting for the man who’d pulled the gun on Lillian—Lillian’s uncle David.

Please keep her safe. He found himself praying, though he hadn’t realized he was a man of faith. A movement in the doorway caught his attention, and he turned in time to see Lily’s wide-eyed face rise into view, her hands white and trembling as she gripped the doorframe and crawled in.

His heart plummeted. They’d brought her along. She looked terrified. What were they going to do with her?

Her uncle David followed with the gun, the door closed, and the helicopter moved forward through the dark sky.

Lillian turned to face her uncle. “Where should I sit?”

“Here.” He spun her around so that her back was to him, grabbed a zip tie from the nearest soldier, and strapped her wrists together before shoving her through the opening in the luggage netting.

She fell forward, tried to catch herself, slammed her shoulder into the sloping back wall, and slid down to the floor beside him, her arms restrained behind her back.

He wished he could reach out to her and help her in her efforts to sit. She rose halfway up, bracing herself against the steep slope of the back wall as though trying to put some distance between them, but there wasn’t room in the cramped stowage space.

Lillian slumped down again, her face against his arm. A silent sob shuddered up through her, and she sniffed.

He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t want to get her in more trouble by doing so. The soldiers on the other side of the netting had their guns pointed their way, but other than that, didn’t seem to be paying them much attention. Her uncle had disappeared into the seat next to the pilot, and seemed oblivious to his niece or anyone else behind him.

The inside of the helicopter was dark—too dark to make out any details. And the ambient noise of the flying craft drowned out whatever the soldiers were muttering about to each other.

He could only assume it would do the same, masking his words to Lillian. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.” Her voice sounded small, and her sniffles reverberated against him. “I’ll try to move over, out of your way.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can lean on me. If you stay close, we can talk without being overheard.”

She fell silent. Probably trying to decide if she even wanted to talk to him.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess. You should have left me in that alley and not looked back.”

“Would that have made my uncle less of a horrible man?”

“His horrible actions wouldn’t have been directed at you, then.”

“Then I would never have known how awful he was. I might have continued thinking of him as a respectable person.” She shifted her face around, bracing her cheek against his arm, until her head was tipped up enough that her words were aimed at his ear, and he could hear her clearly, though she kept her voice low. “I would rather know the ugly truth than live in the comfort of a lie.”

“You sound as though you’ve thought this through.”

“I’ve had to do a lot of thinking lately.” She stopped fighting her position and left her cheek pressed against his shoulder. “And I think we need to figure out what’s going on, and get away from my uncle as soon as we can.”

He liked the way she thought. “I agree. Unfortunately, I’m afraid I won’t be of much help in sorting out what’s going on.”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“I remember you. You pulled me from the alley, you gave me water when I was thirsty and you bandaged my face after I pulled you from the ocean. That’s the total sum of my knowledge at this point.”

She sighed.

“Sorry I can’t be of any more help than that, but it does make me indebted to you, considering you’re the only person I’ve met this evening who hasn’t attacked me.”

“Do you know anything about North Africa?”

“Why?”

“That’s where we’re headed—unless my uncle lied to my parents, which wouldn’t surprise me.”

“This helicopter can only travel about 500 miles without refueling. Assuming it came from Lydia, the northern coast of Africa would be about as far as it could go in one trip.”

Lily sat up a little straighter. “How can you possibly know that, and still not know your own name?”

He shrugged. “Ask me another question. Maybe you can trick me into revealing who I am.”

She huffed, whether out of frustration or incredulity, he wasn’t sure. But she quickly rose to his challenge. “All right. My uncle said that your memory was their only link to vital information that they need right now. Any idea what that means?”

He pinched his eyes shut and tried to think. “I know something they don’t?”

“I’d gathered that much from the context. Whatever it is, they seem intent on gleaning that information from you.”

“How are they going to do that? Traditional interrogation methods won’t work if I can’t access my own memory.” His heart started thumping ominously. If the men were desperate for information, they’d likely resort to drastic measures, but if he had vital intel they couldn’t risk letting him die, so obviously too much torture would be out of the question.

Lillian seemed to realize the answer just as he did. “My uncle said they needed to bring me along because of the way you reacted when they threatened me. He said I was their most valuable weapon against you.”

His blood ran cold, and he realized he’d clenched his hands into fists that were useless, bound as he was. Of course. They wouldn’t torture him—they’d torture her, and make him watch until he spilled every secret he had.

Except that he had no way of spilling any secrets, not if he couldn’t remember anything. Innocent Lillian would suffer, and there would be nothing he could do about it.

The depth of conviction in his voice surprised him. “We’ll have to get away from him quickly. Maybe even as soon as we reach the ground. The faster we can make a break for it, the more likely our plans are to succeed.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Something tells me, once we get to wherever we’re headed, there won’t be any way out.”

Lillian panted slightly, clearly wrestling with what he’d told her.

He felt the need to devise a plan. “Do you know anything about North Africa?”

“Not much,” she confessed. “Hasn’t North Africa been in the news for years now because of violence and fighting and militant groups?”

“You’re right. It’s a very unstable part of the world, with an inhospitable desert climate.” An image shifted through his thoughts, blowing like desert sand, and he felt the sting of it, the oppressive heat, the thirst, the desolation. Like the mirage of a desert oasis, it evaporated as he tried to focus on it, leaving only the lingering image of what once was, or might have been. He grasped at it, but it slipped through his fingers like so much blowing sand.

He opened his eyes to find that Lily had straightened up, pulling her face close to his, watching him.

“Did you remember something?” she whispered as though afraid her words might scare off the wisp of memory.

“I think—” he swallowed, trying to chase the thought, but the sand filled in the footprints more quickly than he could follow them “—I think I’ve been there before.”

“That’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe you’ll know your way around.”

“Maybe.” He swallowed, his thirst intensified by the mere thought of the desert. He wanted to believe Lillian was right, but from the cold clenching of his gut, he was pretty sure his last visit to the northern coast of Africa hadn’t been good at all.

Lily told herself to focus. The mystery of the soldier’s identity teased her imagination, pulling her thoughts away from forming a plan. But she didn’t have time to waste wondering who the man beside her really was. He’d proven himself to be trustworthy—more trustworthy than her parents, and far more than her uncle. So it didn’t matter, then, who he was. He was her only ally, and they needed to work together.

He must have been thinking along the same lines, because he whispered, “It would be helpful if we could get these zip ties off our wrists. We won’t get far without the use of our arms.”

“You’re right. I didn’t get a very close look at what they used, but I think they’re a basic zip tie like any other, with a ratcheting mechanism that keeps them closed tight. I did an internship at a veterinary clinic and a lot of our supplies came zip tied together. I got pretty good at backing the ratchet out.”

“Do you think you could work my hands free?”

“It’s worth a try. Can you get your hands where I can reach them? Don’t let the soldiers see what we’re doing.”

Shifting subtly, Lillian managed to get her hands aimed at the soldier, who’d turned his body at a similar angle toward her. She found his fingers, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, distracting her for a moment with the comfort he offered in that tiny gesture. It reminded her that she wasn’t alone—that even though they were no longer facing one another, he was with her, working for her freedom as much as his.

She found the nylon strap of the zip tie he’d been bound with, and located the ratcheting mechanism with her fingers. If it was like the ones she’d encountered at the vet clinic, all she had to do was squeeze the head to open up the ratchet box, then depress the engaged ratchet enough to slide it out from the rack. In concept, the steps were easy enough for her to envision.

But with her arm muscles already cramping from their awkward position, and unable to see what she was doing, coaxing the two sides apart proved to be a difficult trick. She squeezed the stubborn plastic box with her fingernails, trying to apply just the right amount of pressure to weaken its hold on the strap.

Finally, it slipped back the slightest bit, and her heart rejoiced for a moment before the box caught on the very next ratchet.

It would take her all night at this rate!

They didn’t have all night. In fact, she suspected they didn’t have very long at all. Repeating the motions that had worked before, she tried to ease the strap back another notch, but her hand began to cramp from the constricted angle required to pinch the zip tie.

She flexed her fingers.

“Are you all right?”

“Hand cramp. I just need a second. It’s working.” When the spasm at the base of her thumb stopped throbbing, she squeezed the zip tie again, trying to direct her motions for maximum effectiveness. The strap popped back one notch, and she flexed her fingers while a bead of sweat trickled down her arm. She pinched again, loosened it another notch and kept going. As she worked, the molded nylon became more pliant, allowing her to slip it past the notches more freely.

“Stop there,” the soldier requested when she had the zip tie near the end of its length. “I’ll be able to slip my hands out through the loop when I need to, but I want to give the appearance of still being bound. If they realize we’re loose, they’ll only tie us up again.”

Lillian saw the wisdom of his plan. “Do you think you can work me free?”

“I can try. How did you do it?” He leaned closer to her as they spoke, but kept one hand on her fingers.

Lily told herself he was holding on so that he didn’t have to find her hand again, but at the same time, the security of his touch calmed her heart. She found her voice, and explained how she’d backed the ratchets out. “Think you can do it?”

“My fingers aren’t as nimble as yours, but I don’t see any other way of getting you free. Let me have a go at it.”

Turning away from her again, he tugged on her arm until he could reach the zip tie, and she felt him struggle to work the tricky notches free.

As he’d hinted, his larger hands weren’t as dexterous as her agile fingers, but he kept working on the zip tie, in spite of his lack of progress.

“Do you need to try something else?” she asked after several long, fruitless minutes.

“I think I’m getting closer. It’s tricky. Do you have a better idea?”

“Nothing.”

“Then I’m going to keep at it. I’m not about to give up.” His determination with the obstinate zip tie spoke volumes about his commitment to keeping her with him as he made his escape, which Lillian found reassuring. After all, he was strong and, based on the way he’d overcome the four armed men on her father’s boat, obviously a skilled fighter. If either of them had a shot at freedom, he was clearly far better equipped to make his bid. If she got left behind, she’d be at her uncle’s mercy.

And she didn’t believe for one second the promise he’d made to her parents, that she’d be fine. Uncle David had lied through his teeth. He’d tied her up and shoved her into the stowage compartment as though she was nothing more than a piece of luggage. She was a weapon to him, valuable only as long as she was useful. If the soldier escaped without her, she’d no longer be useful to her uncle. She didn’t want to think about what might happen then.

Just as she began to fear her zip tie was a lost cause, she felt its tight hold slacken slightly.

“I’m making progress.” Relief filled his voice.

“Good.” Lily didn’t want to distract him, but the whir of the rotors had lowered in pitch. They were slowing down, likely approaching their destination and preparing to land. They might not have much longer. “If you can get it loose enough, maybe I’ll be able to squeeze my hand out.”

“Whatever happens, whether I get you free or not, I want you to follow my lead when we disembark.”

“What’s your plan?”

“It will depend on where we are, how many men are on the ground and what kind of weapons they’re carrying.”

The mere thought of armed men sent a shudder rippling through Lily.

He obviously felt it, because he quickly reassured her. “We’ll have the element of surprise on our side. They won’t be expecting us to make any sort of move. We’ll use that to our advantage.”

“But we’re already outnumbered.”

“True. But you said earlier they need the knowledge that’s in my head. They’re not going to risk killing me.”

Lily swallowed. “What about me?”

“I thought that David fellow was your uncle.”

“Yes, but you saw how he tied me up and shoved me back here. I don’t have any critical information in my head.” As she spoke, they shifted with a hollow thump. The helicopter’s skids settled to the ground. They’d landed. And though the soldier had worked the zip tie back a few more notches, Lillian was still securely restrained. She wasn’t even sure she could stand up without help.

“He’s not going to hurt you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I won’t let him.”