I bent to examine it and noticed a small, metallic rectangle protruding from the back of it. “This is a USB connector,” I said. “It plugs into a computer.”
“Well, it’s a whole new way of chatting online,” said Fangs.
I picked up the tongue and plugged it into one of the USB ports of my laptop. Porter grunted and struggled against the rope tying his arms. “Whatever this is, I don’t think he wants us to examine it.”
“Then I guess he’s going to be disappointed,” said Fangs.
“It’s a memory stick,” I said. “And there’s a video file on it.”
“I always discover the best movies by word of mouth,” Fangs quipped.
The video opened with a helicopter’s view of a mansion built high up on a mountainside. Several Rolls-Royce cars were parked in the snow outside the house. Stirring classical music played as the camera swooped down over a huge outdoor swimming pool and a number of tennis courts. It zoomed in on a lone figure sitting at a table in a picturesque snowy courtyard.
The man was tall and dressed in a neat pinstriped suit and tie. He wore a bowler hat, and he was pouring tea into a china cup and saucer. After adding a dribble of milk, he addressed the camera directly. “Good day,” he said. “I’m so delighted you could join me here at the old homestead.”
There was something about him that didn’t look quite right. His skin was grey and covered with stubble, his eyes appeared to be completely black, and he had a scar on his chin.
He took a sip of tea and continued speaking. “I shall be distributing this file to some of the nastiest rotters the world has ever known and, if you are watching it, it means you’re an absolute bounder – for which you must be congratulated.”
He stood and walked through the crisp, white snow. The camera followed him. “As you can see, I have everything a true gentleman could possibly desire – a beautiful home, wealth, a spiffing wardrobe, and much more. But there is something missing. I want to be married and married to someone who can offer me both power and influence. That person is Princess Tiara of the British royal family.”
Fangs and I exchanged a glance.
“Now, I’m a busy man – and I don’t have time to go through the whole courting ritual. So, here’s my offer. I shall pay a sum of two million pounds to the first blighter to bring the princess to me here, alive and well. So, off you pop and bag me a wife! Cheerio, my fiendish friends, and good hunting.”
The video ended.
“We’d better run this through the system,” I said. “Phlem will want us to identify him.”
“There’s no need,” said Fangs. “I already know who it is.”
“You do?”
Fangs nodded. “His name is Barry Sasquatch. Ignore the perfect English gent act – he’s a nasty piece of work.”
“Sounds like you’ve had a run-in with him before, boss. Do you think he’ll remember you?”
“I should think so,” sneered Fangs. “I gave him that scar.”
Monday 1143 hours: SkiWelt, near Salzburg, Austria
Princess Tiara had a few days off before her first royal engagement, and she decided to go skiing. Cameras flashed as the Austrian press surrounded her at the top of the SkiWelt ski slope. She was immaculately dressed in a designer pink jumpsuit and goggles. Her skis, which were edged with rubies, sparkled in the bright sunshine.
Fangs and I were on the lookout for trouble. The camera on my Smartphone was linked up to the one in Fangs’s sunglasses, enabling me to run every face in the crowd through the database back at MP1 HQ. We were determined to find any potential kidnapper before they had a chance to act. Fangs was obviously taking the job seriously as he didn’t pause too long to study the pretty, young journalist with the dark hair standing near by.
The previous evening, an unmarked MP1 van had met us at Salzburg station, and a pair of security trolls had taken Boz Porter away for further questioning. I’d also handed over the halfgiant’s fake tongue. Cube would want to examine that back in the lab.
“… and so, I would like to thank you all vewy much for the wonderful hospitality I am enjoying in your twemendous countwy.” Princess Tiara completed her speech and the photographers took their final shots, and then the ski resort’s security team ushered the crowd of journalists and well-wishers away.
Tiara turned to us. “That seemed to go awfully well, wouldn’t you say?”
I returned her smile. “Yes, Your Highness. Well done.”
She took a deep breath. “Now, wace you to the bottom,” she squeaked excitedly, grabbing her ski poles.
“Your Highness, I don’t think—” my boss began, but Tiara was already gone.
It took me and Fangs a few seconds to snap on our skis, and by the time we were on the main run, the princess was little more than a pink dot in the distance.
My tinted goggles absorbed most of the glare from the snow, so I had no fear of tripping as I crouched over my skis to pick up speed. Luckily, the princess was travelling at a more leisurely pace, and as Fangs and I are both expert skiers, we were soon just a few metres behind her.
WHIP!
Out of nowhere, an arrow shot between me and Fangs and embedded itself in the snow just behind the princess. She yelped and shot a glance backwards.
Three thin figures, all dressed in shimmering white, were skiing down the slope behind us. Each one was clutching a bow.
“Elves,” Fangs hissed into his blue tooth. “They must have hidden in the snow after the slope was cleared. I’ll hold them off – you get Tiara out of here.”
I nodded. “Your Highness!” I shouted. “Head for the trees.”
As Tiara and I sped forwards, another arrow hit the snow with a THUD! – and then a third. We had to get under cover quickly.
I glanced back to see Fangs spinning Cube’s metal yo-yo – not an easy task while skiing. Once it was fully charged, he flipped the metal disk over the back of his hand. The yo-yo shot down its steel cable and caught one of the pursuing elves square in the chest. There was an electrical CRACK! and a flash of light. With a scream, the elf was thrown backwards off his skis.
That just left two elves – and they were gaining fast.
Tiara and I had finally reached the forest-covered edge of the slope. As we were zigzagging between the trees, sending plumes of snow up behind us, an arrow slammed into a tree just to my right.
I turned round to see Fangs grab one of the tree branches as he passed, bending it as far as he could before ducking and letting go. The branch snapped back, catching the second elf in the face and sending him crashing into a snow bank.
The wooded area we were in was dense with foliage, and it was difficult to keep up any real speed.
WHIP!
Another arrow zipped past my ear, catching the back of the princess’s right ski. She screamed and wobbled violently from side to side, but somehow managed to stay upright.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I glanced down at my phone to discover that we were heading straight for a cliff with a sheer drop of two hundred metres on the other side. We had just seconds left before we went over the edge.
“Fangs,” I yelled into my blue tooth. “We’re about to run out of world!”
My boss dodged to avoid the remaining elf’s arrow, and then sped up to reach us. Tossing away his ski poles, he wrapped an arm around each of our waists and lifted us off the ground.
“Puppy,” he shouted, “the cloak!”
I grabbed the edge of Fangs’s cape as it flapped out behind us. Then I pressed a button hidden in the seam – just as we flew over the edge of the cliff. The cloak stiffened, allowing us to sail through the air.
Princess Tiara took one look at the ground far below her ruby-studded skis and fainted, her body going limp in Fangs’s arms.
My boss flashed me a wry smile.
Behind us, the third elf failed to stop and bowled over the cliff edge.
“Kind of him to drop in,” quipped Fangs, “although I can’t imagine the fall wil
l be very good for his elf.”
Monday 1602 hours: Royal Train, Austria
Fangs and I slumped into our seats in the dining carriage and both sighed at the same time. It was good to be sitting down.
We had landed on the outskirts of a tiny village at the foot of the mountain, and had quickly found somewhere warm and safe for the princess to rest while I called for help. Less than two hours later, we were back on board the train and on the move towards our next destination.
I glanced down to the other end of the carriage where Tiara was being served her meal. She looked a little shaken but was otherwise unhurt, and she was clearly enjoying telling the details of her adventure to her hairdresser and make-up artist, who were both listening with open mouths.
I turned back to Fangs. “Phlem sent through everything we have on Barry Sasquatch,” I said, producing the handful of paperwork I had printed off. “It makes for interesting reading.”
“I know everything I need to know about that villain,” snarled Fangs as he added a drop of blood to his glass of cold milk. “He’s trouble.”
My boss wasn’t wrong. The Ramses Brothers and Porter had convictions for relatively petty crimes, but Sasquatch was suspected of armed robbery, smuggling and much more. The problem was that every time he had been arrested for some wrongdoing, his team of powerful yet corrupt lawyers had sprung into action to get him acquitted, usually on a technicality.
And there was still something bothering me about his physical appearance. His head was elongated – almost retangular in shape, as though it wasn’t quite human. Then it hit me.
“Barry Sasquatch!” I exclaimed. “Sasquatch is another word for a yeti. Sasquatch is a yeti, isn’t he?”
Fangs nodded. “He’s ashamed of it, though. He’d do anything to be accepted as human. So, he shaves himself every day and lives like a country gent.”
The waitress arrived with our meals then and I tucked my paperwork away. “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out.”
Fangs didn’t reply. He was too busy sniffing at the breast of chicken nestling beside the potatoes on his plate. “Excuse me, miss,” he said, calling the server back. “This isn’t garlic chicken, is it? Only I’m somewhat allergic to—” Then he stopped, and I realized he was staring at the waitress. She was a pretty woman with black hair. I sighed, waiting for the chat-up lines to begin…
Only they didn’t.
“I’ve seen you somewhere before,” said Fangs.
“No, I don’t think so, sir,” said the waitress, blushing.
“Yes, I have,” Fangs insisted. “You were a nurse in the crowd when Princess Tiara opened the new ward at St Teresa’s Hospital.”
My boss was right! It was her.
“And you were at the press conference this morning,” I cried.
Fangs grabbed the woman’s arm, but she wriggled away from him and pulled a walkie-talkie from the pocket of her apron. She pressed the button on its side and screamed: “Now!”
And all the windows of the train carriage exploded inwards.
Monday 1611 hours: Royal Train, Austria
Screams rang out as five – no, six – green goblins leapt in through the broken windows, crunching over the shattered glass. Two of them made for the princess while the others jumped onto tables and snarled at anyone who dared to move.
“Here we go again,” groaned Fangs, shaking glass shards off his cape. He grabbed the nearest goblin by the scruff of the neck and hurled it out of the window it had just come through. One of the others roared and darted for our table. I rammed my plate as hard as I could into its face, covering its ugly mug with mashed potato and knocking it to the floor.
We raced for the other end of the carriage – but we were too late. Two goblins had seized the princess and were already climbing out of the carriage with her, trying to muffle her screams as they went. A moment later, we heard their heavy footsteps thump on the roof above us.
“Fancy a little fresh air?” Fangs asked.
We headed for the window they had escaped out of. Claws come in extremely useful when it comes to climbing sheer surfaces. The goblins had used theirs to cling to the outside of the train carriage and climb up onto the roof – and I followed suit, with my boss slotting his fingertips into the holes I made with my sharp talons.
The train was rocking from side to side, making it difficult to maintain our balance – but we knew we had to keep going. In the fading light, we could just make out that the goblins were dragging the princess onto the roof of the next carriage.
My sensitive werewolf ears picked up the faint
WUMPH! WUMPH! WUMPH!
of distant rotor blades – and the sound was getting louder. “They’ve got a helicopter coming, boss. We’ll have to—”
Fangs pushed me face down onto the carriage roof – just as we passed under a low stone bridge. That was close! A split-second later and the top half of me would have been rolling along at the side of the track.
The helicopter swooped low over our heads, coming to a stop over the two goblins holding the princess. A rope ladder was thrown out and one of the goblins caught it with gnarled claws.
We dashed along the top of the carriage towards them. I landed on top of Princess Tiara, making her yelp. The two furious goblins turned on us, swinging out with their claws. My boss managed to block the first three swipes, but the fourth caught him off-guard and he fell backwards. One goblin hurled itself on top of him and the pair wrestled, rolling over and over, until they fell into the gap between the carriages.
“Fangs!” I yelled.
As I was distracted, the remaining goblin – the one holding the helicopter’s ladder – made a grab for the princess. I sank my teeth into his leg. He let go of the rope ladder and twisted round to hit me – but I was quicker. I pulled his foot out from underneath him. He crashed down onto the roof and bounced off the train into a clump of trees.
At that moment, the helicopter banked hard left and disappeared into the evening sky behind us. That just left the three goblins inside the train and the one that had pushed Fangs down between the carriages.
My boss was scrambling back onto the roof of the train. The goblin who had attacked him was nowhere to be seen.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
Fangs nodded. “Lucky we’re trained for this sort of stuff.”
“And your friend?”
“He’s on the right track now…”
Between us, we managed to lift a shaking Tiara down from the roof and help her back inside the train. The other three goblins were nowhere to be seen, but we found the princess’s assistants curled up beneath one of the tables.
“Where did they go?” Fangs asked.
“D-down that way,” said April, pointing in the direction of our carriage. “They took the waitress with them.”
“I’m pretty sure she wasn’t a real waitress,” I said.
We left the princess in the care of her assistants and set off in search of the remaining would-be kidnappers.
The goblins had left a trail of destruction and a load of terrified train staff behind them. The kitchens were trashed, the piano bar ransacked and someone had drawn a moustache on a portrait of the queen in the games room. We reached our carriage and paused outside.
“On three,” Fangs whispered to me. “One, two, three.”
We burst in through the door together – but the carriage was empty. And I mean empty. The goblins and whoever the dark-haired girl was had taken all of our important MP1 equipment: my laptop, Cube’s briefcase – and RALF the robot skeleton. This must have been where the helicopter had gone after it had left us on top of the train.
I slumped into an armchair. “Cube won’t be happy that we lost RALF,” I said.
“Cube can go and boil his square head,” scoffed Fangs. “We saved the princess – again. That’s what we’re here for – not to protect his precious toys.”
“You know these attempts to kidnap her are going to continue until we get to Sas
quatch, don’t you?”
Fangs pulled open the drinks cabinet and filled a glass with milk before adding a healthy splash of A-Positive. “We don’t know where he is, though. The only way we’d find him would be to allow the princess to be taken.” His eyes widened as the idea sank in.
“We can’t allow Tiara to be kidnapped.”
“Of course not,” said Fangs. “But what if the next lot of attackers thought they’d got her…?”
“You mean let them kidnap someone disguised as the princess?”
Fangs nodded. “Someone with MP1 training who was just playing the part. They’d lead us right to Sasquatch.”
“That’s brilliant, boss,” I said. “But who’ll pose as Tiara? We’ve lost RALF now and I’m far too hairy.”
Fangs took a sip of his drink. “Well, if you can’t do it, then who can?”
Tuesday 1119 hours: International School, Linz, Austria
Fangs stood before the class of Austrian primary-school children and tried to smile without revealing his sharp teeth. The princess’s assistants had done a wonderful job. He looked gorgeous. May, the stylist, had adjusted one of Tiara’s designer pink dresses so that it fitted Fangs snugly, and June had worked wonders with his make-up. You really couldn’t see his pale flesh or the dark rings around his eyes – his cheeks blossomed with pink blusher, and a pale red lipgloss really brought his lips to life.
April, Princess Tiara’s hairdresser, had been given the toughest job. She’d had to make a wig that matched the princess’s hair from the spare extensions she had in her kit. There wasn’t quite enough fake hair to completely cover Fangs’s jetblack locks, so she had attached the extensions to the inside of one of Tiara’s summer hats. So long as Fangs kept the bonnet in place, no one would be any the wiser.
Assignment: Royal Rescue Page 3