by S. L. Menear
Emily squeezed his hand as he listened.
The front door slammed.
“Quick! Follow me.”
He ran up the steps and bolted the door.
“We need to hide until Sam wakes up. I wish this mansion had secret passages like the ones Sam told us about in Laird MacLeod’s castle.” Charlie grasped Emily’s hand.
“Maybe it does. In mystery books, the entrance is always behind a big painting or a bookcase.” Her eyes brightened. “Let’s check the study.”
They ran to the first-floor study and felt around the bookcases.
Charlie jerked his head at the sound of a window shattering on the other side of the house. He struggled to dislodge the iron poker from the fireplace tool stand, but it just moved like a lever.
“Whoa, part of the bookcase opened to a secret passage! Quick, run inside!” Charlie pushed Emily inside.
Nicolai shouted threats as Charlie searched for the lever that closed the bookcase. Emily found it recessed into the wall and pulled it. The bookcase closed, and dim electric lights illuminated spiral stone steps descending beneath the study.
They rushed down to where the stairs ended at a long passage carved into the rock and ran a hundred and fifty yards to a cavernous chamber overlooking a lower level with a long dock.
Deep beneath the island, the water along the pier was calm. Large wooden crates were stacked on their level and below near the dock.
“This looks like an underground warehouse. What’s in the boxes?” Charlie tried to open a crate, but it was nailed shut.
“How can boats get in here? There’s no opening to the sea.” Emily looked around the vast cavern.
“Could be a secret submarine base.” He looked down at the dock area. “Those are cargo cranes like the ones at my dad’s shipyard. I bet they used them to unload these boxes.”
“I wish the submarine was here. We could escape.” She glanced around. “What do we do now?”
Charlie pointed at a ladder bolted to the far wall. It led up to a small landing with a door. “Let’s see what’s behind that door.”
They climbed the forty-foot ladder and entered a tunnel carved into the rock. The lighted passage ran straight for thirty feet, then curved sharply and opened onto a wide ledge on a cliff.
A three-foot diameter signal light covered with a heavy glass dome was bolted to the center of the rock ledge. A short spear-shaped finial rose from the dome’s center. Forty feet below, waves crashed against the cliff.
Emily walked around the light and peered over the edge. “That’s a long way to fall.”
Charlie tugged her back. “Don’t stand so close. The ledge is slippery, and it’s really windy.”
“Nothing down there anyway. Let’s look for a path up the cliff.” Emily turned around and screamed.
“Hello, brats. Where is blonde?” Nicolai blocked the tunnel entrance.
Charlie stepped in front of Emily and brandished knives from the oven mitts like small swords. His hands trembled as he focused on the Russian giant’s dark evil eyes.
Nicolai laughed and stepped onto the ledge. “I am mighty bear. You cannot kill me. Drop knives.”
He crossed his arms with a smug look on his scarred face. “Jump and die, or come with me. Maybe I let you live.”
One of Nicolai’s long legs on his six-foot-eight frame kicked the knife out of Charlie’s left hand, and Emily screamed again.
I woke to glass shattering. Primal instinct kept me still. It took a few moments for the fog of confusion to lift. Where am I? How did I get here? I was wrapped in a wool blanket crammed behind a leather couch. Floor-to-ceiling windows beside me revealed a bleak landscape with an angry sea.
Something was poking my side. I discovered a meat cleaver, a butcher knife, and a water bottle. I felt something on my stomach—a block of cheddar and two chocolate bars in a towel.
The children must have left these for me.
The next sound filled me with terror.
Nicolai roared like a lion. “I will punish you for locking door. No escape from island. You will beg for death soon.”
Island? Please no.
A cold wind blew under the couch as the psychotic giant rampaged through the room smashing vases and overturning furniture. He paused near the leather couch as if listening. I held my breath and heard him run from the room.
The house fell silent except for the wind funneling through the broken window. I felt weak and dizzy.
Better eat the cheese and drink the water.
Within minutes, I felt stronger as the dizziness faded. I tore open a chocolate bar and bit into it as I stood. If Nicolai was telling the truth, Charlie and Emily could hide from him, but they couldn’t escape the island.
Why did he leave? He must’ve seen them outside. Must save Charlie and Emily.
I rolled up the sleeves on an extra-large wool sweater that hung to my knees over my jeans. Nicolai must’ve put it on me. I hefted the meat cleaver in one hand and the butcher knife in the other and jumped through the broken window to the ground five feet below.
Yep, this was an island. On the high ground, I could see in every direction. Muddy kid-sized footprints led from a low window to the west across the rocky ground. A cold northwest wind assaulted my face as I ran across the island, desperate to find the children before Nicolai.
I almost had reached the edge of the cliff when I heard Emily scream. Did it come from beyond the cliff? I ran and peered down the cliff as she screamed again.
Nicolai had trapped Charlie and Emily on a ledge fifteen feet below me and was waving his combat knife at them.
“Drop blade or I cut off your hand.” He took a step toward Charlie.
I leaped off the cliff and landed on Nicolai. The force smashed his face against the glass dome and jarred the knives out of my hands.
Pain seared my chest. I had cracked some ribs. Gasping for air, I grabbed the meat cleaver and clutched a handful of his thick black hair. I lifted his head and pressed the weapon against his carotid artery.
I wasn’t ready for what I saw. Neither were the children.
Charlie gasped while Emily fell to her knees and vomited.
The pointed finial had pierced Nicolai’s left eye socket. Blood and eyeball goo streaked down his left cheek. Blood gushed from his crushed nose, and his other eye was open but lifeless. I dropped his head when I heard an approaching helicopter.
“We have to get out of sight fast.” I pulled Emily to her feet.
“This way.” Charlie pointed at the tunnel entrance.
We ran inside and stopped where a long ladder led down to a level above a dock area.
Emily clutched my side as her little body quivered.
I winced from pain as I hugged her. “Emily, you’re safe now. Charlie and I will protect you. Forget about Nicolai so we can escape. Can you do that?”
Charlie hugged her too. “It’ll be okay, Emms. We’ve got you covered.”
She sniffled and inhaled a deep breath. “We’d best get down that ladder.”
“Good girl, I knew we could count on the president of the Magic Club. I’ll go first so I can catch you if you slip. Charlie will follow.”
Once we were down, I glanced around the huge cavern. “This looks like a submarine base for a smuggling operation. Judging by the size of the crates, they’re probably full of illegal weapons.”
I found a crowbar wedged between two crates and pried open a lid. “Whoa, I think that’s a Stinger missile.”
“Can we use it on the bad guys?” Charlie touched it.
“We don’t have the launcher, and I doubt we could lift it anyway.”
Emily tugged my sweater. “Sam, what are we going to do?”
I glanced around. “Does that passage lead back to the mansion?”
“Aye, it ends at steps up to the study,” Charlie said. “I found the lever that opens the bookcase.”
Emily nudged Charlie. “It was my idea to look for a passage in the study in the first
place.”
“You’re both brilliant. Thanks for hiding me and leaving the goodies. Now we need to get back to the house before that helicopter lands. It’s our ticket out of here.”
I hefted the crow bar. “Let’s go.”
Twenty-Six
Lord Edgar Sweetwater was quite pleased with himself for outsmarting MI5 and Scotland Yard again.
After MI5 interrogated him during his lavish party the previous night, three black Enstrom 480B helicopters lifted off from his estate outside London early in the morning. The pilots were Sweetwater’s size and dressed in matching uniforms. Two helicopters carried passengers dressed like Sweetwater. He rode in the third one.
The helicopters scattered low over the terrain to stay under radar. The one carrying Sweetwater landed at the safe house the Russian assassins had used when they hunted Sam and Charlie last August.
The pilot refueled the helicopter while Sweetwater changed into a pilot uniform.
“It’s full of fuel, Lord Sweetwater. Are you certain you want to continue on alone?”
“I’ll enjoy the stick time and the solitude. There’s a vehicle for you in the barn with the keys in the ignition.” Sweetwater walked to the helicopter parked behind the barn.
Unlike most helicopters, the Enstrom was designed for the pilot to sit in the left front seat. Sweetwater fastened the five-point harness and tugged the straps before running through the checklist.
Once airborne, he headed to his private island where the stone mansion and underground facilities had been built to his specifications. He was especially proud of the ancient-looking dungeon where he enjoyed torturing those who crossed him.
His heart quickened in anticipation of torturing the Scottish brats in front of Samantha to force her to divulge the location of Poseidon’s Sword. Only then could Nicolai have the children. She had to be kept alive to activate the weapon, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t employ a little creative pain therapy on Samantha.
Sweetwater approached from the south, landing into a north wind on the helipad up the hill from the mansion. He buttoned the heavy raincoat up to his neck and waited for the rotor blades to wind down. His pilot cap shielded the light rain when he stepped out. Just in case, he decided to refuel the helicopter before entering the castle.
Sweetwater switched on the fuel pump and inserted the nozzle into the tank. He stamped his feet to get his blood flowing as the meter counted the gallons down. He glanced at the house, expecting to see Nicolai walking up the path.
Where the hell is he?
Annoyed, he called Nicolai on his mobile. Nothing.
Oh right, no reception on the island. If he started without me, I’ll shoot the bastard.
Sweetwater pocketed the phone and finished the fueling. Nicolai should be doing this damn task instead of me. The thought of him enjoying the torture without him angered him so much he rushed down the stone path, slipped on a wet rock, and slid on his backside.
When he entered the mansion, he was boiling with rage.
The study commanded an excellent view of the helipad. I watched the pilot fuel the helicopter and fall on his ass on his way down to the house.
I turned to Charlie and Emily. “It’s just the pilot. He’s probably here to pick up Nicolai. Stay out of sight while I deal with him.”
“I’ll help you.” Charlie drew a knife from his oven-mitt holster.
“Thanks, but I’ve got this. He’s short and pudgy, and he fell on the stone path—no match for a black belt.”
I walked down the hall and hid behind a pillar near the foyer. My cracked ribs wouldn’t stop me from kicking butt. Plus, I had a crow bar.
I heard the pilot slam the door and shout, “Nicolai, get your bloody arse up here!” He tossed his hat across the room.
His voice! Our meeting at Buckingham Palace flooded my mind. I stepped out and faced the balding man with sinister eyes.
“Lord Edgar Sweetwater, isn’t it? Nicolai can’t hear you.” I walked within kicking range.
His fleshy face betrayed his shock. “You!”
He stepped back and started unbuttoning his raincoat. “Well, thank goodness you’re all right. I’m here to rescue you from that giant psychopath. Gather the children and let’s go. My helicopter is ready.”
“Nice try, but I know you hired Nicolai. You’re done.” I stepped forward.
Sweetwater pulled out a Walther PPK pistol like James Bond’s. I kicked it out of his hand and swung the crow bar so hard against his face his head banged into the stone wall and knocked him unconscious. Blood gushed from his broken nose.
“Charlie, come here!” I gasped in pain, picked up the Walther, and shoved it into the back of my jeans.
He ran into the foyer with Emily trailing. They gawked at the man crumpled on the floor.
“Good job!” Charlie cocked his head and focused on the man’s bloody face. “Huh, he looks a lot like that English billionaire we met at the palace.”
“Yep, you’re looking at Lord Edgar Sweetwater—billionaire scumbag and arms dealer. Help me tie him up.” I looked around for something to bind him.
“Let’s chain him in the dungeon. The wrist and ankle clasps will do nicely.” He tugged an ankle to check Sweetwater’s weight.
Emily gripped the other ankle. “I’ll help.”
“Lead the way.” When I wrapped my arms around his chest under his arms and lifted his torso, pain tore through my ribs.
We struggled on the dungeon steps and dropped him twice. At the bottom, Charlie switched on the light.
“This is where they were going to torture us.” Emily pointed at the stainless-steel implements glinting on the table.
I sucked in my breath and glanced around. “Shall we clamp him to the wall or the floor?”
“The floor would be easier for us.” Emily pointed at a set of cuffs attached to floor brackets. “How about right here?”
“Good idea.” I dragged him over the smooth stone and spread his arms to meet the metal clasps.
I clicked the cuffs into place over his wrists while the children did the same with his ankles. I checked all the bonds.
“That should hold him. Help me check his pockets.” I found his mobile phone. “When we get upstairs, I’ll call Ross. Let’s go.”
The children started up the stairs as I switched off the lights.
Emily looked back after mounting a few steps. “What if he dies down there?”
“Evil people like him don’t die easily.” I realized the same could be true of Nicolai and ignored the knot in my gut. “Trust me, he’ll be alive when the police arrive.” I herded them up.
Charlie paused near the front door. “Forgot something in the dungeon. Go ahead. I’ll meet you at the helicopter.” He ran back to the stairs.
Emily clutched my arm with a panicked look.
“Relax, honey, we’re not leaving without Charlie. I’ll call Ross.” I punched in his number, but nothing happened. No signal bars.
“Is it ringing?” Emily sounded anxious.
I tilted the phone at her. “See, no signal here. I’ll call on the helicopter’s radio when we get high enough.”
We waited in silence until we heard high-pitched screams rising from the dungeon.
We almost ran into Charlie in the hall leading to the stairs. His strange expression wasn’t fear.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”
I noticed a blood stain on a mitt holster where the pointy end of the clippers pressed against it. Our eyes locked, and I nodded.
Sweetwater’s money might buy him a light sentence, or his slick lawyers might find a way to save him. With Nicolai dead, there might not be any evidence other than his arrival at the mansion and his submarine cavern.
This was Charlie’s payback for what Sweetwater had cruelly robbed from Charlie’s eight friends in that cave in the Highlands last summer. It was about honor and justice. Sir Charles Moncreiffe was only twelve, but he was a true knight in word and deed.
I touched Charlie’s shoulder. “I understand. I did the same thing to the guards in the cave last summer. Let’s go.”
Emily looked confused and grabbed Charlie’s hand. “What did you do?”
“Nothing he didn’t deserve. Come on, we’re leaving.” He led her to the front door.
I peered out the window before opening the door. We ran to the helipad and disconnected the tie-down straps.
I opened the right door. “Good thing this is the high-density seating model. Emily, slide onto that bench seat in the back. Stay on the right and buckle up. Charlie, you sit on the right front in the copilot seat.”
“This is brilliant. I didn’t know you flew helicopters,” Charlie said.
“I’m not a big fan of fling-wing death traps. Oops, did I say that aloud?” I patted his back. “Don’t worry. My brothers had one like this a few years ago and taught me to fly it. It’s been a while, but I’ll get us there in one piece.” I walked around and opened the left door.
I slipped the Walther under the left chest strap of my tightened five-point seatbelt harness. My cracked ribs radiated pain as I ensured the children were belted in before I started the turbine engine.
While waiting for it to warm up, I studied the panel and checked our location on the GPS. After selecting a direct course to the SAS base in Dundee, I began the liftoff.
We were only a foot or two above the ground when the children screamed as the helicopter tilted sharply to the right. I tried to compensate as I glanced over and spotted Nicolai’s hideous face outside the right door.
He wrenched the door open as the right skid slammed onto the helipad. He harnessed the momentum to pull the helicopter over and rolled clear as we crashed onto our side. The thundering rotor blades hit the concrete and sprayed razor-sharp shards.
I shut off the engine, mortified the fuel tank would burst into flames.
I turned to the children. “Are you okay? We have to get out fast!”
The children looked up behind me.
Emily screamed, and Charlie yelled, “Look out, Sam!”
Nicolai glared down at me through the pilot door and yanked it open. “I have you now, Sooka.”