The Royal Guard

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “Buckle up!” Ace roared as he shifted into fifth. Marisa, noticing Ace was not buckled, somehow managed to buckle him and then herself before he hit the bump at the end of the runway and went sailing onto the street beyond. The car landed with a terrible crunch and then a squeal as Ace turned the wheel, forcing the car to change directions and drive on the freeway.

  She heard Jeremy on the phone. “Cleanup at the airport. Target acquired. And get the local cops off our butts, please.”

  Ace drove like the devil was chasing him, weaving in and out of traffic at top speed. At least he didn’t go into oncoming traffic this time. Soon the wails disappeared, and Halluis called out to the team, “ETA seven minutes. The celebration is set to begin in thirty minutes. Christy has not reported in for thirty minutes, but the feed at the back of her belt is still live. It’s giving us nothing, but it is live.” He stared at his phone. “Turning control over to Marisa to help us get onto the castle grounds.”

  “Wait,” Jeremy said, also looking at his phone. “I have something. Quiet everyone.”

  17

  There was a shuffling sound on the phone and suddenly the screen went black. “Christy must have found the glasses,” Jeremy said, “but they aren’t working properly.” He tinkered with the phone, but nothing seemed to change. The phone was not broken. Jeremy looked at the glasses on the screen, his eyes narrowing. Marisa couldn’t keep her thoughts from Christian. Where was he? Had Ottavio done something to him, too?

  She glanced at Tara, who was sandwiched between Halluis and Jeremy, and hate filled her. Tara’s hands and feet were cuffed and her mouth, gagged. Halluis caught Marisa’s eyes and turned his attention to Tara. He took the gag out of her mouth and signaled for Marisa to go ahead and engage her.

  “Tara. If you hadn’t noticed, we’re driving back to the castle to the celebration.” She nodded. “We expect you to confess to your crimes.”

  “Why would I do that?” Tara said, defiance bursting from her eyes.

  “Because we just saved you from certain execution.” Halluis gave a wry expression.

  “No you didn’t. If they had wanted to kill me, they would have at the cabin.”

  “You’re only half right,” Marisa cut in. “Your execution was delayed until they no longer found a good use for you. You were going to be locked up like an animal in a cage, forced to do all their forgery bidding. Sound like a life you want? We can take you back.”

  Tara stared at the floor. She did not like what she’d heard. “But if I tell what I know to the royals, I’ll be locked away forever, too. Take me back.”

  “Have you forgotten what you changed in that document?” Marisa sneered.

  Tara froze, obviously surprised at what they knew.

  “Yes,” Marisa said. “We know all about it. And the royals do, too. In a little over a half an hour that document you doctored is going to be read to the masses, and the present monarchy will lose everything. They’re going to be very appreciative to anyone who stops that from happening, if you know what I mean.”

  A crazy glint fired in Jeremy’s eyes. “And,” he drew out the word. “If you don’t admit to your treachery, we will see to it that you live a long, painful life in a box only about two inches larger than your balled up body.”

  Fear filled Tara’s eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  “Good girl,” Marisa said, “Now it’s time to tell us everything.”

  “Actually, Marisa,” Halluis said. “We’ll be at the gate in two minutes. We need to hear your plan.” Her answers would have to come later. She swallowed, trying to get some moisture into her mouth. Her attention turned to the gate and its guards, something she knew everything about. The guard on duty in the guard shack would come to greet them. Marisa could easily see three of the seven other guards she knew should be watching the gate. One was to her right, staring at the car, his gun at the ready. Two more were inside the gate center front, facing the car. Four others were hidden in the brush ten to fifty feet from the gate itself. Marisa guessed that the distance was closer to ten, since a vehicle had arrived at the gate.

  Marisa still hadn’t called out her plan by the time the car stopped in front of the gate and the guard made his way over.

  “Marisa?” Jeremy said as he and Halluis blocked Tara from the guard’s view. “What are we doing?”

  “Hello,” the guard said, and Marisa turned her head away so that her face wouldn’t be seen.

  “We have something very important for the king and queen.”

  “We’re sorry,” the guard said, a stern look on his face. “No one enters or leaves the castle grounds until the celebration is over.” He turned to leave. Marisa knew there would be no talking their way past the gate. The orders had been given, and they would be followed. Marisa couldn’t think of a thing. They had no special equipment and not enough men to fight their way in. She thought of Jeremy’s words, to listen to her gut to know when to act a hero and when to hold back. Her chest burned with the rightness of the plan that instantly formed in her mind. There was a way. “Jeremy,” Marisa said. “I need a distraction on the right side of the car. Stall as long as you can and wait for my signal. Then take out the guards outside the gate. I’ll get the ones on the inside.”

  “This is your show,” Jeremy said. “We’re ready.”

  “Three. Two. One,” Marisa said after taking a deep breath. He had said this was her show. She was going to show him just how good she was.

  Jeremy and Halluis leapt out and started to fight each other, yelling at each other for not being able to enter the grounds and being late for the celebration. A heartbeat later, Marisa reached the guard at the same time he opened the door to his shack. She pushed him from behind, his body jerking forward and his head hitting bulletproof glass with a smack. He slumped to the floor. A glance told her that the other seven gate guards were all watching the fight between Halluis and Jeremy.

  Marisa sneaked through the gatehouse to the inside and slinked up behind two guards who were watching through the gaps in the fence. She threw one leg out, taking them both off their feet and with a swift punch to the nearest guard’s head, he was out. It took two hits to the jaw to silence the second one.

  Jeremy and Halluis were making such a racket, none of the other guards heard her attack. She took the guards’ plastic cuffs and cuffed them to the stationary part of the gate, then threw their radios into the bushes, out of reach. Three down, five to go. She looked around but couldn’t find the other two guards who were supposed to be inside the gate.

  A trickled of worry settled over her until she reached the guard shack and caught a glimpse of the schedule on the desk. Two gate guards had been redirected to the celebration for several hours. She cuffed the guard she had first attacked to the lamppost just inside the gate and checked her watch. Two minutes had passed. She signaled Jeremy that it was safe to take the guards and headed that way to lend a hand, but in a minute flat, before she could reach them, all four were tied up and useless.

  She rushed to the gatehouse and opened the gate. They drove inside. “Marisa, excellent job,” Jeremy said. “Way to think on your feet.”

  Marisa grinned. “Head to employee parking. We can get into the castle from there.”

  “Marisa, when we arrive, you go find the captain. Stop the celebration. Don’t let them read that document.” She waved the radio in her hand. She had a sure way to find him—as long as he wasn’t locked away somewhere. “Ace and I will go find Christy. Halluis will stay in the car with Tara, awaiting our signal to bring her to make her confession. Mark the time everyone. Nineteen minutes until the celebration starts. Any later than that and we’ll be too late.”

  “Captain Di Stefano,” Marisa said into the radio as they pulled into the parking garage. “Important person to see you at the employee entrance.” The moment the car was parked, everyone but Halluis and Tara jumped out and scattered.

  A few minutes later, Marisa was inside the castle in the captain’s arms. “You�
��re safe!” He kissed her forehead.

  “Yes,” she said, melting into him. “You, too. I was so worried.”

  Before Christian could respond, two men stepped out from behind some curtains in the entryway and took hold of the two of them. Two other men stepped in front of them, guns pointed right at them. While Marisa and Christian hesitated at seeing the guns, the men next to them slammed rags over their noses and mouths, and Marisa’s and Christian’s struggle became futile as they fell to the ground.

  18

  Marisa woke to Christy’s voice. “You just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

  Marisa squeezed her eyes tight, and Christy moved on to Christian, gently saying his name and patting his cheeks. He startled awake and immediately went into attack mode, pushing at Christy, who didn’t resist and flew back a few feet, landing on her back. “Ouch!” she cried, rubbing at her shoulder. Marisa guessed she had some good bruises from the fights earlier.

  “What? Who? Where?” Christian said until he saw Marisa and calmed down.

  “You are wherever I am,” Christy said. “Lucky you.” She pressed her hand to her forehead.

  The calm didn’t last. He popped to his feet, feeling for his weapon or radio or anything. Marisa did the same. Christy shook her head. “Sorry, they stripped us of anything they saw as useful to use for escape and put us in these pretty clothes.” They were in bright orange prison inmate jumpsuits.

  “How long have we been in here?” Marisa asked.

  “Maybe a minute,” Christy said. “The light popped on and that wall opened up.” She pointed to the wall. “Four men stood outside the door. Two with guns and two that shoved you guys in here. I tried to rush them, but they fired a couple of shots and then shut the door. The good thing is that they forgot to turn out the light.” She glanced around the room. “I searched the room in the dark and couldn’t find a way out, but maybe now we can.” She started searching the room.

  Marisa and Christian began to examine the room, too.

  “Everyone is here, searching for you,” Marisa said. “What time is it?”

  “I have no idea. No watch. No phone.”

  “I know where we are,” Christian said with a groan.

  “What? Where?” Marisa asked.

  “We aren’t even in the castle. We’re in the dungeons.”

  “This doesn’t look like a prison cell to me,” Marisa said. The room looked like an empty room in a newly built house that had sat empty for a while, collecting dust and bugs. In one corner sat an open toilet with no lid and a tiny sink set into the wall. A mat covered in white cotton material sat on the floor with a white sheet and blanket on it. No pillow. The floor was painted cement.

  “It’s a prison cell that can be bought,” Christian said. “Rich people pay off the monarchy to live out their prison terms in style. The bad news is that there is no way out besides that hidden door, and if you try to jimmy it, the room will fill with poison gas. The door is made out of steel and even if we got to it, we wouldn’t be able to move it.”

  “Are you telling me this sheetrock is set over stone and steel?” Christy walked to the wall and brushed her hand over it.

  “Yes,” Christian said. “We’re stuck here until our captors let us out or someone happens to find us, which is not likely. Not even all the prison guards know about this place.” He pushed his back against a wall and slid down it, his knees coming up to his chest.

  “We will find a way out,” Marisa said and took off her shoe. She started pounding it into the wall and a dent gave way to the stone beneath it.

  Christy watched her with interest and joined Marisa. “Hold on.” She peered into the small hole Marisa had made. “This sheetrock isn’t attached directly to the wall, there are furring strips behind it.” She reached her fingers inside the two inch gap between the rocks and the sheetrock.

  “And?” Christian said.

  “If the door is made out of steel, how did the four guards get it open?” It was like she was talking to herself. She walked swiftly to the wall near the door and removed her shoe and started to pound it into the wall making another small hole.

  “It opens electronically.”

  “As I deduced,” Christy said absentmindedly as she widened the hole with her hands, the sheetrock crumbling to the ground.

  Christian stood. “Stop. You’ll trigger the gas.”

  “The trigger must also be electronic,” Marisa said and created a hole near the bottom of the door.

  “Why aren’t you listening to me?”

  Marisa said in a slow, even tone, “Christy has a really great memory, remember?” She glanced over at Christian, who gave her a confused look.

  “I’m betting in Christy’s line of work that she has learned all about electronics and how they work. Am I right, Christy?”

  Christy grinned and looked at Marisa. “Yep.” Marisa continued to dig at the wall right next to the door until she hit pay dirt. A wire. “Christy, here. A wire.”

  Christy sat down and together, the two girls unearthed a whole bunch of wires while Christian worked near the top of the door.

  Christy stared hard at the wires and then said, “Anything up there?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  She started fingering the wires. “Do you remember how many buttons were on the switch that opens this door?”

  “Uh,” Christian said.

  “Remember yourself walking up to the door. If you can’t remember that, go back and remember entering the dungeon. Let your mind relax and remember. Take your time.”

  “I’m walking up to the hidden door. Guard Liam is laughing. He tells me to hit the green button and adds that the yellow sends the toxic gas and the red closes the door.”

  Pride burst in Marisa’s chest. Christian had been able to do as Christy asked and had remembered.

  “What else do you see?”

  “A dungeon hallway made out of stones.”

  “Nothing else that sticks out in your memory?”

  “Nothing.” He started to chip further into the sheetrock going above the door now.

  In Marisa’s mind, a clock ticked—a clock attached to a bomb that would go off if she didn’t get to the ceremony in time.

  Christy grabbed hold of three wires with one hand while the other played with her hair. “Ah, hah. They missed one.” She waved a bobby pin in the air. She then started bending the wires back and forth, back and forth, the bobby pin in her mouth. She talked around it. “There is a chance that something I do will trigger the gas. If you two could kindly look for a possible entry point?” They started searching the walls. A yellow wire broke in Christy’s hands and she cheered quietly, “One down.”

  Marisa, on the other hand, had frozen. She heard an unmistakable hiss that slowly tapered off. The door did not move, but the sound came from that direction. She swallowed and pulled up on the collar of her jumpsuit. “Cover your mouths, lady and gentleman,” Marisa said. “The gas is spewing from somewhere near the door. Christy?”

  Christy glanced around and then pulled hard on the two other wires in her hand. “Guess I don’t need to be careful anymore.” The wires pulled out of the door. Christy looked at the door, a look of alarm on her face, and then grunted. “That should have worked.” She zoned out again, but started to cough.

  “Cover up, Christy,” Marisa shouted as she searched the area near the door for any type of opening.

  Christy pulled her collar up over her nose. “Ah, yes. There must be a failsafe near the top of the door.” Her voice was calm as she stood. “Christian?”

  He moved to her side. “There should be a red or maybe black thick wire at the top of the door. Find it please.” He tore at the sheetrock with abandon. Marisa pitched in. “Almost there.”

  Christy would have helped had she been tall enough. Then Christian said, “Got it.”

  “Good.” She handed him the bobby pin, which had been stripped of its plastic ends making it sharp. “Strip the outer coating away to expose the wire
s beneath.”

  He gave her a crazy look, his face paling. “I don’t feel well.”

  “The wire,” Marisa said. “Strip it.” She spoke between coughs. They were all coughing now. “You can do it, Christian.”

  He scraped and scraped.

  “When you get through,” Christy said, “find the green wire and break it.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked as he continued to work. “I mean, what you did earlier didn’t seem to help us at all.”

  “Yes. What I did and what you are about to do both needed to happen in order to get this door open.” Christy bent over, a coughing fit taking over.

  “Keep going, Christian,” Marisa said. “I can see colors behind the black, you’re getting there.” He scraped, then coughed, then scraped. Marisa kept her eyes peeled on the wire, thinking of nothing else as she coughed. They were going to survive. They had to.

  “That’s it!” Marisa exclaimed, and Christian fell to the floor next to Christy, who was also out. “No!” she screamed moving toward them. As she bent, her head swam, so she stopped and leaned on the wall. She looked up toward the wire. What color had Christy said to cut? The colored wire inside the small hole seemed to be undulating. She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them. “Green,” she muttered. “Cut the green.”

  It took everything she had, but she reached up and grabbed hold of the wire and bent it back and forth as Christy had. Back and forth. Her body pressed hard into the wall as she worked. Dizziness was overtaking her, but then she felt the small snap of the wire. She couldn’t celebrate as the door opened, instead, she rolled around the door jamb and took gulping breaths of the clean air.

  She puked and puked again, coughing uncontrollably. She turned to the room and saw Christian and Christy lying there. She wanted to help them but her head spun. She couldn’t stand just yet. She crawled into the room and dragged Christian out first, taking him twenty feet down the hall. She stood and held onto the wall as she rushed back to the room.