“Jack! Jack, help!”
Another one of the British ninjas, dressed exactly as the first, had trussed Betsy like a Thanksgiving turkey. He ran toward the rear of the tractor with her over his shoulder.
Jack chased after him, certain he’d never be able to catch up. He couldn’t even throw a rope and hook to trip the fellow. There was too much risk the ninja would drop Betsy.
The tractor, not moving quickly to begin with, slowed and started a turn. The British ninja had to slow to keep his footing. Just the break Jack had been hoping for.
He reached into a lower pocket of his coat to get his hook as he scrambled along the wood. As luck would have it, the ninja stopped and turned. Jack lunged forward and swung the hook, knocking the enemy off-balance. When he turned, Jack caught Betsy’s arm and yanked.
The ninja started to topple over, then lashed out at Jack’s knee with his cane. Jack’s now-injured leg gave out beneath him, and he fell off the tower of wood losing his grip on Betsy. The hook snagged the ninja’s costume, slowing Jack’s descent.
He held onto the hook while his ribs and stomach took the brunt of the bumpy slide.
“Jack! Help!” Betsy’s scream.
The British ninja tossed her over the edge before jumping off the trailer himself. Jack managed to grab her as she flew by. He squeezed her into his body and held her tight. The ground loomed close.
This was going to hurt!
He timed their roll, making sure they landed on his back. They slammed into the ground. He immediately moved out of the way of the moving tires. Everything went black.
“Jack! Jack!”
His vision came in and out of focus. He tried desperately to keep his eyes open, but they were not cooperating. Betsy smacked him on the arms. At least, he thought it was Betsy. But if she smacked him, who dragged him across the cobbles to be nearer the buildings? Had she done both? Did someone help her? How was the wood shipment? What happened to the ninja? How many British ninjas did they have to contend with?
“You need to get up, and you need to get up now!” she shouted in his ear.
He rolled over and got to his hands and knees. His vision hadn’t fully returned and something kept ringing. He put his hand to his head. His mask had stayed in place and, judging by the sizeable dent in the back, possibly saved his life.
“I need to get this off,” he said. “I can’t see.”
“Not now. We need to get moving right now.”
“I can’t see. I need to—”
Betsy pulled him in some direction. Too many sounds and too many jostles assaulted him so he had no idea where they were or which direction they headed.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”
Fear rang in Betsy’s voice.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“We’ve got four of those ninjas chasing us now. Hold on.”
She turned a corner, and Jack collided with a wall or a door or a doorframe. All he could tell was the sounds of machinery and clacking of heels had been replaced with the sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices singing.
They stopped and Betsy said, “Here, let me help you take that thing off.”
She flipped the latches, undid the straps and, with a brief struggle, snapped off the two halves. Light rushed in, and stars flashed in his vision. Two gentlemen in sailor outfits approached them.
“Hello, doll. Fancy you in a place like this,” one of them said.
“I’m not here for long. Just leave us be.” Betsy turned away from him.
“Wait a minute,” the sailor said in a thick, French accent Jack instantly recognized. “You are the one from the dock this morning, are you not?”
“Como está, mi amigo,” Jack said.
The sailor laughed loudly. “It is you. You are so funny. Come, join us and have a drink. What a great thing it is you find us.”
Jack put the two halves of his mask in his pocket. “I’m afraid we cannot stay. We’re being chased.”
“You and this lovely lady? I think you should show us who might be following you. I have many friends here. We can take care of this for you, I think.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you to—”
“Ask them, Mr. Kane,” Betsy said in a low, sharp tone.
“Yes, please my friend. Ask.”
“British ninjas. They’ll be here any moment.”
“I think there must be some mistake. Are they not just a…how you say…a myth? A legend? They are not real.”
She put a hand on the sailor’s shoulder. “I assure you, they are quite real, and they’ll be coming through that door any second.”
“You need only show us where they are.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it.
“They’re wearing British flag masks, top hats, and carrying canes.”
“Mes amis! Nous avons du travail. Allons!”
One by one each French sailor kissed Betsy’s hand on the way out the door and patted Jack on the shoulder. It surprised him when each produced a belaying pin, knife, blackjack, length of chain, or some other weapon from a pocket, a sock, under a hat, or somewhere else on their person. These were well prepared sailors, and Jack was quite happy they were on his side.
The people on the street parted and took up viewing positions leaving a wide circle in the middle. Not one, not four, but six British ninjas entered. Each dressed alike and each using a walking cane. They stopped on one side of the spreading crowd. The French sailors took up the other side.
“Jack, we need to go.”
“But these are the people we’re trying to get away from. Perhaps we can question them after the sailors are done.”
“I don’t think you understand. I don’t think the French sailors are going to be the ones in a position to do any questioning.”
“That’s what I was thinking, and that’s why I think we need to stay so we can do the questioning.”
“You’re not following me. The ninjas are going to walk through those sailors, and we’ll be the next thing they see. We need to get moving, and we need to get moving now.”
“I think you underestimate my friends.”
The ninjas managed to fend off multiple attacks with their canes. Then, as the tide of battle looked like it might turn and she was wrong, the ninjas pulled swords from the canes.
“Betsy, I think we should get going.”
“Finally.”
Jack grabbed her by the arm to lead her through the growing crowd. As they began to push through the press of people he realized two things: one was that his pocket was vibrating madly and he could barely make out the beeping over the cheering voices. The second was there were two large men blocking their path. One had a large backpack spewing smoke into the air. The other held a mouthpiece attached by a cord to the backpack.
“Just keep moving, Betsy.” Jack, with his hand on Betsy’s arm, pulled her past the two men.
He chanced a glance back. Sure enough, the two gorillas followed.
~ * ~
The beginnings of a high-pitched whistle sounded from Squiggy’s back.
“Sounds like the boss is calling,” Lenny said. “Better kill the whistle before it draws attention.”
Squiggy nodded and slapped the red answer button on the heavy metal backpack. A valve immediately opened and released a jet of steam that narrowly missed Lenny.
He jumped as the scalding steam scorched past. “Watch that thing, would you?”
“Can’t help it,” Squiggy mumbled. “You keep standing on the wrong side of me.”
The tinny approximation of Felonious’ voice squawked out of the tin horn that loomed over Squiggy’s head. “If you fools are about done your arguing, I have something for you to do!”
The two men flinched at the sound of Felonious’ voice and straightened to a poor approximation of attention. “Yes, Boss!” they said in unison.
There was silence for several seconds as if Felonious waited to see if the men were finished speaking. The device
began vibrating again and his voice emerged from the horn once more. “Good. Have you captured the two meddlers yet? I need you to bring them to me. I have something prepared for them.”
Squiggy frowned and mouthed “meddlers” at Lenny.
Lenny only glared and shook his head. “We’ve almost got them. We’ll grab ’em and bring ’em home.”
“See that you do, and make it quick.” A slight buzzing followed by static indicated the severing of the connection.
“Do you have any idea who he wants us to pick up?” Squiggy asked. He shrugged to adjust the weight of the communication unit.
“Of course I know, dummy! The only ones it could be are the two we’ve been running across all day. You know, the ones the boss told us to follow?” He glared at Squiggy. “Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in that thick skull of yours.”
Squiggy’s shoulders drooped. “I was only askin’. Geez! You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”
Lenny punched him in the shoulder hard enough to rock the man. “You need to start using that gray matter, Squiggy. Time will come when acting stupid will get you killed. Now, think about it—they are the only ones the boss has shown an interest in today so it makes sense.”
Squiggy rubbed his arm. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Where do you suppose they are?”
Lenny shook his head. “There you go, not using your head again. If it’s the two we’ve running across and we just saw them get onto that load of wood, where do you suppose they are?”
“I’m only askin’ ’cause I don’t see them up there no more.” Squiggy indicated the shipment of wood.
The two had disappeared.
“Ah cripes, Squiggy! Why didn’t you say so?”
Squiggy pointed down the street. “Can you hear that ruckus? It’s got to be them two.”
The two men broke into a trot along the street dodging an ever-increasing flow of steam carts, powered rickshaws, and running pedestrians. The further they went, the louder the sounds of fighting were.
Screams of pain and anger echoed off the buildings. Lenny pulled a truncheon out of his belt as they ran. Squiggy slipped knuckle-dusters onto each hand.
“Jeez Louise, Lenny! How are we supposed to catch those two? I mean, did you see what’s been happening with those masked suits? And then they waltz through the frolic when the suits and the Frenchies decided to mix it up? How the heck are we supposed to deal with something like that?”
“Stop worrying, Squiggy. We’ve been running into these two for a while now and nothing has happened to us. If we get the drop on ’em, there ain’t nothing they can do.”
“Get the drop on ’em? How we gonna do that, Lenny?”
“Easy. I’ll distract the pretty boy while you grab the dame. Just be careful. She could try to stick a hairpin in your eye or grind one of them stilettos into your foot. I’ve seen her type before.”
“I’ll be careful, Lenny. See if I don’t.”
“Okay, then. Here’s the plan. I’ll walk up beside the chump and pretend to recognize him. I’ll throw my arm over his shoulder all friendly like. You grab the girl, and once you have her I’ll make sure the pretty boy behaves himself.”
“Anything you say,” Squiggy said, his expression that of an eager puppy waiting to fetch a ball.
With Squiggy at his side, shoulder to shoulder, Lenny strode along the sidewalk until they were behind the couple. Without a word, Squiggy broke off and went on the other side to either side to carry out their plan. The man and woman turned and tried to get past.
Lenny intervened. “Hey, pally, good to see you again,” he said, wrapping a meaty arm around the man’s shoulder. “How you been?”
The man’s expression was unfriendly. “What do you want? Why are you following us? What do you have against pianos?” He tried to shrug off Lenny’s arm.
“I think you’ve got it all wrong, pally. I’m the one asking the questions here. Like why have you been getting in the way every time we do something? You spies?”
“I have no idea what you are referring to. Now leave the lady and me alone.”
Lenny sneered. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, pally. And if you look over at your lady friend, you’ll notice my friend is getting nice and cozy with her.”
Squiggy had one arm around the woman while he held a wicked looking blade to her throat with his left hand.
“What do you want from us? What are you going to do,” the man asked.
“I have someone who wants to meet you.”
The woman spoke up for the first time, her chin jutted out defiantly. “We’re terribly sorry, but we already have a previous engagement.”
Squiggy chuckled. “I don’t think you’ll be making it. Will they, Lenny?”
“No, I don’t think they will. Come on you two. And don’t try nothing smart or someone will get hurt.” He made sure he was very clear about who he thought that might be.
Reluctantly, the two prisoners went without further complaint.
Fourteen
“So we meet at last, for the very first time,” Felonious said.
The man shook his head. “Actually, sir, we have met many times before, some of those times right here in this very room.”
Felonious frowned. “Exactly who are you?”
He smiled and extended a hand. “Name’s Jack. Jack Kane. I work for you, remember?”
“I think I would know if you worked for me,” Felonious said. He glanced over at Lenny who was staring at Jack, a puzzled expression on his face. “Does this fellow work for me or not, minion?”
“Now that he mentions it, he does look sorta like the guy who fixes stuff around here and sorts through the junk for you, Boss.”
“I’ve worked for you for years, sir, and might I say what a pleasure it has been—”
“Mr. Kane!” the woman shrilled.
“Oh yeah. Right.” Jack puffed out his chest. “Why have you kidnapped us and brought us here against our will?”
“Oh, I believe you know the answer to that question already, Mr. Crane.”
“No, I really don’t. And the name is Kane, not Crane.”
The woman elbowed him in the ribs.
“Oh, yes.” He cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about pianos, would you, sir?”
“Pianos? Why in heaven’s name would I know anything about pianos? Stop trying to change the subject with your incessant babbling and focus, man.” Felonious glared at Jack. “I must assure you, what I speak of is much more important than some tropical fruit.”
“Fruit?” Jack was momentarily at a loss. “Mr. Filcher, a piano is not a type of fruit. It is, in point of fact—”
He was interrupted by another elbow to the ribs by the woman.
“Er, right. Sir, I must ask you about a plot against this city and this country.”
Felonious leaned back in his desk chair with a creaking of wood and springs. He smiled. “I knew if I gave you enough rope you would hang yourself.” He steepled his fingers together, glaring over them at Jack.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Jack said.
“Don’t play coy with me, sir. You and your lovely accomplice are spies. You have as much as admitted it. All day you’ve thwarted my plans, followed my minions, been a thorn in my side, and now you tell me my own plans.”
“Spies?” the woman said. “You think we’re spies? Who could we possibly be spying against?”
“Surely, miss, you cannot think me foolish enough to believe you,” Felonious said. “You are, of course, spying on me and doing your best to foil my plans. You’re agents for the United States government sent here to spy on my work. What a clever plan to have you working right under my nose all this time. Watching and waiting for my plans to unveil themselves and, at the right moment, foil me.”
“You have plans?” Jack asked, his expression puzzled. “You’re only a junk dealer. A junk dealer with a terrible English accent, but a junk dealer nonetheless. What plans could you possi
bly have?”
Felonious straightened and tried to look imposing. “I’ll have you know I’m—”
Bennington came running into the room. “My lord, if I may speak to you?” he sputtered between gasping breaths.
“Dash it all man, what is it? Can’t you see I’m interrogating the prisoners?”
Bennington leaned closer to Felonious to whisper in his ear. “My lord, do you think it wise to reveal your plan to these people?”
Felonious shrugged him off. “Of course it’s wise. I’m doing it, after all. I mean, what could these two fools possibly do to thwart me further now that I have them? They are less than nothing. Besides, they already know my plans. I was going to fill in the details.”
Bennington sighed. “As you wish, my lord.” He slipped into a corner.
Felonious turned back to Jack. “Now, where was I?”
“You were about to reveal the details of your sinister plot,” the woman said.
“Ah, yes, the plan!” Felonious paused for dramatic effect. The seconds stretched into a minute, then another.
“Well?” she finally asked.
“You young people are so impatient,” Felonious grumbled. “Not even willing to give a man his moment of glory to gloat. Ahem. Very well. My plan is to destroy the Statue of Liberty.”
Jack shook his head. “The Statue of Liberty? Are you sure?”
Felonious frowned. “What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I am. It’s my plan, you fool.”
Jack nodded. “Of course, of course. But the Statue of Liberty doesn’t even exist yet. Why would you want to destroy it?”
“I will destroy it for what it represents. Freedom, liberty, and hope. Things you colonials think you deserve. When I destroy it, those values will be damaged as will the relationship between France and the United States. Your economy will suffer and eventually fail. France will come here and declare war. The United States will crawl back to the United Kingdom to beg for help, and Her Majesty will reward me richly.” He paused to breathe.
“Couldn’t you do all that more easily by destroying the United States piano industry?” Jack asked hopefully.
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