by Sara Grant
The intercom crackled to life. “Charlotte Armstrong!”
I froze.
“We know you’re here. You need to come to the bridge at the front of the ship. Or else we’ll kill Mackenzie.”
How did they know I was here? Was there another baddie on the ship? Had Plain Bad spotted me earlier? Then I saw it. I was looking for people and weapons when I should have been looking for cameras. Up in the back corner of the ship, there was a surveillance camera pointing right at me.
I raced down the hall and dived into one of the many bedrooms. I hoped they didn’t have cameras in here. I yanked open drawers and closets, looking for something anything that I could use to defend myself. Empty. Nothing. Zip. Zilch!
“There’s no place to hide, Charlotte,” Super Bad’s voice was everywhere.
How did he know my name? I didn’t think Mackenzie would have told them, but I didn’t know for sure. If they had threatened her, how easily would she crack under pressure?
“Move! Now!” Super Bad bellowed. The anger in his voice sent a shiver through my body. I forced one foot forward, and then the other. What else could I do? If I did as they instructed, wouldn’t they kill us both? If I didn’t, they would definitely kill Mackenzie.
I walked back into the corridor and stepped right in front of the camera. I glared into the lens and raised my hands in surrender.
I hated myself for being so stupid and getting caught – like mother, like daughter – but I wasn’t going to let them see any weakness. Right before I reached the door to the bridge, I paused. I pulled my shoulders back. I walked on to the bridge with my head and arms held high.
As I took in the scene, my confidence drained like the remains of bubble bath in a cold tub. Mackenzie was slumped against the back wall. Her wrists and ankles were tied. Plain Bad had a gun pressed against her temple. Super Bad sat in the swivelling captain’s chair in the middle of the bridge, his gun pointed at my head. Mackenzie looked shattered. I couldn’t imagine what she’d been through. I tried to smile but my lips twitched nervously.
“Why don’t you let us go?” I said, trying to make my voice sound younger and more vulnerable. There was the slimmest of chances that I could convince – OK, beg – them to let us go. “We aren’t any good to you. We’ll give you plenty of time to escape. No one will ever catch you. How can you murder two young, innocent girls?” I was laying it on really thick. If they had any compassion, they would agree with me. “Why not take your money and run? We are just kids.”
If anyone else had said that, I’d be furious. No one my age was just a kid. That always made it sound like we were less than people. But I was going to use every trick I could to stay alive.
“Maybe we should,” Plain Bad said, lowering his weapon. “The kid’s right. I’m a thief, not a murderer.”
Super Bad laughed. “Just kids? You risked your life and you don’t even know who your BFF really is.”
“What?” I blurted. He was trying to confuse me.
Super Bad pointed his gun at Mackenzie. “Do you want to tell your little friend or should I?”
Mackenzie shook her head.
“It is my pleasure to introduce to you Her Royal Highness Princess Mackenzie Wettin Clifford, illegitimate daughter of Prince Arthur.” Super Bad bowed to Mackenzie.
WHAT!!!???
I was speechless. Geeky Mackenzie was the princess they were looking for. It all made sense now. Her hiding out. Her paranoia. I didn’t know much about the British monarchy. I’d seen Prince Arthur, his wife and young son on the TV and in magazines. I understood that Prince Arthur would be king one day. Did that mean Mackenzie was in line for the throne?
Mackenzie met my gaze and gave this apologetic shrug. It might have been good to know her deep, dark secret when we were being attacked. Super Bad shoved me down. I stumbled closer to Mackenzie.
“Sit still and shut up,” Super Bad shouted at us. “Watch them,” he told Plain Bad. “I know a few guys on another island who might be willing to take Charlotte in trade for another boat. This yacht is too big and too conspicuous.” He twisted and turned dials and punched at buttons on the control panel.
I hated being called Charlotte, but I hated the thought of being traded like a rusty ol’ used car even more.
Mackenzie finally looked at me. Sorry, she mouthed.
I understood why she’d deserted me on the dock. She knew she was the target, and she was protecting me. None of this was her fault. I gritted my teeth to squash the sob that was gathering in my chest. I would not let Mackenzie or these men see me cry. I took one deep breath and then another to shake off the sadness. I had to dig deeper than I ever had before and find a massive, buried-treasure-chest of courage. I half smiled. I hoped she’d see that I’d forgiven her for everything.
The further this yacht got from our island, the better the chance that Mackenzie and I would be sailing into the sunset, never to be seen again. I couldn’t believe that not so long ago I was worried that I’d be bored to death. Now death by boredom sounded pretty good to me.
I wanted to somehow communicate to Mackenzie that we were going to put up a fight. Dad said violence was always the last resort. I was out of options. Plain Bad’s eyes flicked from Mackenzie to me. Sweat dotted his forehead. He was nervous. He didn’t want to do this. He was the weak link. If we overpowered Super Bad, Plain Bad might give up.
Super Bad checked and re-checked readings on the control panel. “Almost ready to go.” He pointed his gun at us. “I’ll watch these two while you do the final prep of the yacht.”
“Yeah, sure.” Plain Bad scuttled away like one of those bottom-feeding sea creatures I’d spotted while snorkelling. I could tell he was relieved not to be guarding us any more. They hadn’t expected to have only two men to operate this ginormous ship. And they had to do it while keeping guard over us.
Something on the control panel bleeped and distracted Super Bad. This was my chance. One man and one gun. Those were the best odds I’d had all day.
I winked at Mackenzie. That’s the only signal I had time to give before I leapt into action. I lunged for Super Bad. Despite being tied up, Mackenzie still did the same only a beat behind. Super Bad wasn’t expecting an attack. For once underestimating two young girls had worked in our favour.
I smashed his nose with an upward palm strike – the way Dad had taught me in one of his many self-defence lectures. I threw the whole weight of my body behind it. His nose crunched under my hand, and his eyes flooded with tears as blood gushed down his face. He screeched in pain. Mackenzie charged head first into his gut. He stumbled backwards. With a sweeping kick, I knocked the gun out of his hand. It skittered across the bridge and on to the deck. All eyes followed the gun.
I landed another kick in Super Bad’s chest. He collapsed forward so I kicked him again right under the chin. I expected Mackenzie to go for the gun, but instead she hopped to the control panel and punched a button.
An alarm sounded and the doors on either side of the bridge slammed shut. We were trapped in here with Super Bad, but his gun was out there. I kicked him in the gut again and when he bowed in pain, I jammed my elbow in his back. He fell to his knees.
“Watch out!” Mackenzie yelled.
I didn’t think; I dived out of the way.
Mackenzie was clutching a fire extinguisher, which wasn’t easy with her wrists still bound. She swung it wildly.
Clunk! The metal container collided with Super Bad’s head. He wibbled one way and then wobbled the other. He was like one of those clown punching bags that no matter how hard you walloped it, it always sprang back up. Blood was streaming down his face from his nose and the new red knot on his head. I pushed him and that was all it took to send him crashing to the floor.
I wasted no time tying him up and then cutting the ties from Mackenzie’s wrists and ankles. I spun around to give Mackenzie a high five, but she stopped mid-action. Her face drained of colour.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
&nbs
p; Then I saw it too.
Plain Bad was showing us he wasn’t Plain Bad at all. He stood right in front of the windshield with a gun trained on us. He flicked his gun from me to Mackenzie as if he was deciding who to kill first. Mackenzie yanked me to the floor as bullets peppered the glass.
Oh, how I wished I hadn’t underestimated Plain Bad.
Tiny shards rained down. I checked the windshield. The glass must be bullet- and shatterproof because it didn’t break. It cracked from edge to edge, but it provided a barrier between us and Plain Bad.
Mackenzie jumped up and slammed the accelerator on the control panel forward. The jolt sent me and Plain Bad flying. She grabbed the wheel and jammed it to the right. Then she cranked it as far as it would go to the left. Plain Bad was shrieking and thudding against the bridge and deck. She zigzagged through the sea at top speed.
“Where did you learn how to drive a ship?” I asked Mackenzie as I was bashed around the bridge like a human bumper car.
“I had a lot of time to study the nav equipment,” Mackenzie said, twisting the wheel again. “I’m good with computers.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage, because my stomach was turning inside out.
“Hold on!” Mackenzie shouted at me. I pounced on the captain’s chair and hugged it.
Smack! Plain Bad connected with the windshield and then bounced backwards.
“Aaaarrrrggggghhhhh!” he cried as he flew off the deck and plopped on to the slick nose of the ship. He juddered off and splashed into the water. We raced away full speed ahead.
I staggered over to Mackenzie, steadying myself on the control panel. The thrill of surviving was clouded with my overwhelming need to vomit. “Could we slow down?” I asked.
“Oh, um, yeah,” she said, seeming to come back to her senses. She slowed the ship to a stop. She hugged me. “Thank you. You didn’t have to come back for me. You’d saved my life twice.”
When she said it like that, it sounded crazy. I blushed. “We did it.” Looking at Super Bad passed out on the floor. I couldn’t believe we’d actually defeated the bad guys. Maybe I was part criminal and part hero after all.
“Remind me never to make you angry,” Mackenzie said.
“Remind me never to let you drive,” I replied, and we burst out laughing. We clutched each other and convulsed with laughter. It felt amazing.
Our laughter fizzled into sighs. “I will never be able to thank you for saving my life,” she whispered and absent-mindedly touched the scar on her neck. “I thought you were some goofy American. Was I ever wrong about that! You were bloody brilliant.”
“I thought you were some geeky, snobby Brit who’d never eaten a cookie and was preoccupied with manicures and make-up. You need more cookies, but otherwise you’re OK.” I held her at arm’s length. “Are you really a princess?”
Mackenzie shook her head. “My dad is Prince Arthur.”
“Are you heir to the throne?” I asked with a curtsey fit for a queen.
She laughed. “No, I’m illegitimate, which means I’ve got no claim to the throne.” She suddenly became serious. “I’ve never even met my dad. I wouldn’t be a welcome surprise to the future king.”
And I thought I had parent problems.
We were startled by the ringing of a phone. My brain couldn’t process this normal, everyday sound at this anything-but-ordinary moment.
A phone?
“Hello?” Mackenzie answered the phone that was embedded in the control panel. She held the phone between us so I could hear. It was probably the coastguard or the…
“C-C-Charlotte?” a voice stuttered on the other end of the line.
“Ariadne?” How could she know where I was and how to call me unless…
“Are you girls OK?” Ariadne asked.
“Yes, you should have seen us – bad guys nil, Chase and Mackenzie four!” Mackenzie recounted how we outsmarted and overpowered the bad guys, but my mind was busy putting the puzzle pieces together, and I didn’t like the picture it was forming one bit. If Ariadne called the yacht, she had to be mixed up in the heist and kidnapping. Is that why she didn’t want me here? Is that why she was so cold to me?
“I knew you girls could take care of yourselves…” Ariadne’s voice trailed off.
“Ariadne, are you all right?” Mackenzie asked.
It was too crazy to think that my grandma was one of the bad guys. But what other explanation could there possibly be?
“Yes and no,” Ariadne replied after a long pause.
I wanted to say something, but how do you ask your grandma if she is a criminal like her daughter? How do you ask if she tried to kidnap Mackenzie and kill me? I staggered away from the phone.
Mackenzie glared at me in confusion. She hadn’t put it together. She was glad to hear Ariadne’s voice, the voice of someone she thought was a friend. “Have you called the police?” Mackenzie asked.
Ariadne’s reply was simple and told me everything I needed to know. “No, I haven’t contacted the police. No one is coming to help you.”
Her words hit harder than any blow I’d received today. My own gran threw the knockout punch.
I imagined Ariadne ripping off her convincing disguise – the one that made her resemble a nice, but nutty, old lady – and transforming into some evil super-villain, who was half robot and half viper.
“I’ll figure out how to use the yacht’s radio and call for help,” Mackenzie said.
“You can’t do that,” Ariadne replied.
“What?” Mackenzie exclaimed.
I shook my head. Betrayed by my own grandma. “Don’t you get it,” I covered the phone’s mouth piece and whispered to Mackenzie. “She’s in on it. How else would she know how to contact us here?”
“What? No,” Mackenzie said, but her face changed as the truth dawned on her. “Ariadne?”
The phone line muffled. We leaned in closer to listen. Someone was with Ariadne. I was sure I could hear two muted voices – Ariadne’s and a man’s.
The other voice was saying something like “tell them”. I couldn’t understand exactly what he was saying, but his tone was demanding, not requesting.
“Girls,” Ariadne said, paused again, and then shouted, “he threatened to kill me if I didn’t trick you to come back to the island, but I can’t. Save yourselves! Call for help and sail…” Her words trailed off.
Then came the horrifying sound of a slap and a scream – my grandma’s scream.
“Ariadne!” we shouted into the phone.
I had read the situation all wrong.
“Charlotte.” It was Artie.
“Is Ariadne OK?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“Charlotte, I need you to listen to me and listen very carefully,” Artie said, his voice as cold and deadly as black ice. Mackenzie and I were cheek-to-cheek with the phone wedged between us. I wondered why he was only talking to me. Mackenzie was the valuable one.
“OK,” I replied. He had my complete attention.
“I’m not a bad guy,” he said, but a really and truly good guy would never need to say this. “I’m going to offer you a simple trade. Your long, lost grandma for Mackenzie.”
I couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”
Mackenzie stepped away, leaving the phone in my hands.
“All you need to do is sail the yacht back to the island,” he explained. “I will put your grandma in a dinghy and you’ll put Mackenzie in one at the same time and we’ll swap. You get your granny … ouch … cut that out.” Another slap but this time no scream. My grandma was tough, and she hated being called granny. “You get Ariadne, and I get the princess.”
“What? No!” I shouted at him. “Why would Mackenzie ever agree to that?”
I could hear Ariadne in the background shouting, “Don’t let her, Charlotte!”
“I don’t want to hurt your grandma,” Artie spoke louder to be heard over Ariadne’s protests. “I’ve genuinely grown quite fond of her, but I’ve got a job to do.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “Do you want money? I’ll give you money.” I didn’t know how exactly, but I knew I would find a way.
“You really are a bit thick, aren’t you?” Artie said.
I think that was British for stupid, and I was beginning to feel that way.
“I’ve been hired to kill Mackenzie.” He stated this horrible fact without any trace of guilt. “The heist, the bomb, everything was to cover up Princess Mackenzie’s murder. How much clearer do I need to make it? If Mackenzie survives today, I’ll come for her again – or someone else will.”
“What? Why?” I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to kill a fourteen-year-old. So what, her dad was the heir to the throne. Big deal.
“I’ll keep quiet,” Mackenzie interjected. “I don’t want anything to do with my father. I want to be left alone. I’m not going to make trouble for anyone.”
“I don’t make the rules,” he said. “I’m carrying out orders and––”
I interrupted. “Orders from who?”
“Enough!” The anger and irritation in Artie’s voice came blaring through the phone. “Mackenzie can choose to save your lovely grandmother or wait for the next assassin. Charlotte, I expect the yacht to start moving immediately.”
The line went dead, the phone dropped from my hands.
Mackenzie climbed on the control panel and kicked the smashed windshield until it dislodged and crashed to the deck below.
“What are you doing?” I shouted at her. Had she lost her mind?
“I need to see where I’m going,” Mackenzie said, punching buttons and pulling levers. The yacht jolted forward.
“Stop it!” I tried to shove her away from the controls, but she held on tight to the wheel. “I’m not going to turn you over to Artie.”
“I’m not going to let him kill Ariadne,” she said. “Ariadne helped me and my mum when no one else would. I had a near miss with a motorbike in London. The guy came straight at me. If it wasn’t for my mum’s quick thinking, I’d already be dead. Then someone broke into our flat. My mum scared him off too, but not before he cut me badly enough to send me to A & E.” Mackenzie pointed to the two-inch scar on her neck. It was only inches from where her jugular vein would be. “Ariadne agreed to hide me until Mum could figure out who was trying to hurt me and stop them.”