Rachelle McCalla - Prince Incognito

Lily’s father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. This man is coming with me.”

“Why? Where?” Lillian looked as though she might try to step between them.

“Your uncle David would like to see him.” Her father grabbed the soldier by his arm. “On deck. Now.”

He could have fought the older man, but having just assured Lillian that he wasn’t dangerous, he didn’t figure he ought to strike her father. That left him with no choice but to walk in the direction he was shoved.

“Stay in your room, Lily.”

“No.” The stubborn woman trailed them both up onto the deck.

For one disorientated moment, he thought perhaps a storm had blown up. Then he recognized the familiar sound of a military helicopter’s pulsing rotors.

He tensed, all his instincts telling him there was danger in the darkness.

A man stepped into the dim circle of light provided by a fixture next to the pilothouse door. Other than the military uniform he wore, and his hair more salt than pepper, he looked like Lillian’s father.

The uniformed man—apparently Lily’s uncle David—spoke. “You tried to run away. That was foolish.” He raised a hand, gesturing to somewhere beyond them.

Four uniformed men stepped from the shadows—soldiers, with guns slung across their backs. They stepped toward him as though to apprehend him.

His heart pounded. Should he fight them or go nicely? He didn’t even know who he was—how was he supposed to know how to respond to these men?

“No!” Lillian screamed from behind him, pushing her way between him and the men who approached.

The soldiers reacted, two of them lunging toward him, two others rushing her, intention to harm spelled across their features and their postures.

He made up his mind instantly. He couldn’t let them hurt Lillian.

Whipping his boot around in a high-round kick, he sent the nearest two soldiers sprawling.

THREE

Lillian staggered back, as the soldier who’d rescued her from the sea dispatched a flurry of kicks at the soldiers who swarmed the deck of her father’s sloop. The first two fell and didn’t rise. He disarmed the next, pulling the intimidatingly large gun off the man’s back and knocking him in the head with the end of it, sending him keeling back into the fourth soldier, who drew his gun, only to have it kicked from his hand, clattering across the deck.

It was her uncle David who ended it, pulling out his own gun and grabbing her by the arm, shoving the cold metal up under her jaw so hard her head snapped sideways.

“Stop!”

The soldier spun around, his blue eyes immediately sizing up the situation. “Let her go.”

Lillian glanced at her parents, who were cowering in the doorway of the pilothouse. She waited for them to reprimand her uncle, to demand he put away the gun that he held to her head.

They shrank back, fear on their faces, and said nothing.

“You’ll come with me.” David glowered at the soldier. “And if you make one false move, Lillian won’t be here to save you the next time.”

The soldier closed his eyes in submission.

The other uniformed men rose from where they’d fallen, warily grasping the soldier as the helicopter that had been hovering just beyond the boat moved closer. Lillian saw that her parents had lowered the sails to keep the whirling rotors from harming them. They must have welcomed her uncle aboard as she’d been below, bandaging up the soldier’s face again, the sounds of the helicopter drowned out by the ambient noise of the ship and the sea.

A ladder dangled from the helicopter, and David nodded toward it. “Climb,” he told the soldier.

The man stepped forward, grabbed the rungs, and ascended. One by one, the rest of the soldiers followed him up, disappearing into the shadowy bird that hovered over them in the night sky.

David pulled her toward the ladder.

Finally, her father stepped forward. “You can’t take Lillian.”

“I don’t have any choice.” David lowered the gun, but kept it pointed at her. “You saw how he responded when I threatened her. He didn’t hesitate. She may be the only effective weapon I have against him.”

“You won’t hurt her?”

“She’ll be fine.”

Sandra Bardici peeked her head around her husband’s shoulder. “Can she change into dry clothes first? She doesn’t even have shoes on.”

David Bardici looked up and down her simple outfit of khaki pants and a pale pink T-shirt. “Her clothes will dry soon enough. Can you wear those shoes?” He pointed to her sneakers, which were still on the deck where she’d kicked them off earlier.

While Lily hurried to slip into the shoes, her uncle leaned closer to her father. She had to listen closely to hear him over the roar of the helicopter. “Does she know who he is?”

“He doesn’t even know who he is. The explosions wiped out his memory.”

“Temporarily, I hope.” David grimaced. “His memory may be our only link to vital intelligence. We need that information as soon as possible.”

Lily listened to their conversation with shock pulsing through her veins. She’d never liked her uncle, but to have him suddenly pull a gun on her—worse yet, to use a threat against her life to control the man who’d rescued her from the sea—rocked her world far more than the angry waves stirred up by the low-hovering helicopter’s rotors.

But her uncle David’s behavior fit with his personality, even if it was extreme. And her parents—they’d been acting odd since before the trip to Lydia, and even more so once they’d arrived. Their broken promises compiled a strong case against them. Obviously neither of them was about to challenge David’s demands.

No, she couldn’t expect either of them to help her any more than they’d spoken up to defend her when uncle David had slammed the gun under her jaw. The only person who’d reacted had been the soldier.

The thought of him sent a trickle of comfort through her. She recalled how gently he’d swept the matted hair from her face as he’d propped her up on the life preserver. He’d not only untangled her leg from the rope, but he’d massaged her tight calf muscle, almost as though he’d known the rope had bit into it, causing it to cramp. And then he’d held her, so firmly and so securely, as he’d pulled her back onto the boat.

She couldn’t recall a time when she’d felt so protected.

With the shoes on, she stood, and her mother gave her a cursory hug, as she had so many times when Lily headed back to school for the semester. “Please call and let us know what’s happening.” She looked at David, not even blinking at the gun he brandished. “I don’t suppose you can tell us where you’re headed?”

“North Africa. We need to get going or we won’t have enough fuel left to make it there.” David shoved her toward the ladder.

Lillian looked up at the thunderous bird hovering above them, its dark shape blending with the night sky, making it look infinitely large. She wasn’t particularly keen on ladders or heights, especially ladders ascending to nowhere, with gun-bearing soldiers awaiting her on top.

“Climb up.” Her uncle’s voice grew impatient, the threat of his gun reinforcing each word.

She told herself not to be afraid, not because she felt she could trust her uncle, but because she knew the nameless soldier was up there, and she hoped he could protect her. She grasped the nearest rung and began to climb.

* * *

He tried to shift his body into a less-uncomfortable position, but the soldiers had used a thick zip tie to bind his wrists behind his back, so he had only limited use of his arms. Shifting his back against the cool metal wall of the helicopter, he stared at the soldiers who sat on the other side of the luggage netting, guns resting across their laps, pointed at him.