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CHAPTER 12 Nigel sat at the poolside table, sipping lemonade and nibbling on tortilla chips and salsa as he watched Sydney do laps in the pool. She was obviously enjoying her small bit of freedom. They could have been on holiday, if not for the two gunmen stationed at the perimeter and the bandage on his head. “Drink!” Sydney called as she swam over to the side of the pool and waited for Nigel to bring her his lemonade. She took several long swallows and passed it back, her voice lowered when she spoke again. “How long do I have to keep this up?” she whispered. “I’m starting to spout gills.” “You can come out anytime you want,” he said. “I don’t want to go back up to that room, Nigel.” If the crime lord had provoked Nigel to violence, a man who abhorred fighting, she didn’t want to leave her friend alone again. “You won’t. I’ve convinced him to let you have lunch with us.” He grinned and tapped his forehead. “Guilt is a marvellous manipulator.” Sydney grinned and extended her hand. “Get me out then.” He pulled and she hopped up on the side of the pool, and then waited as he retrieved a towel for her, before standing up to wrap it around herself. She didn’t mind the way Mason’s apes were staring at her, she was used to it, but it seemed to bother Nigel so she would play it demure, for now. “There’s a change of clothes in the cabana,” he told her as Mason walked out and settled at the table. “Want my drink?” “No,” she replied as she paused by the table to grab a tortilla chip and dunk it into the salsa. “I’ll have one when I come out though.” Nigel nodded and sat down in his chair as she walked away towards the small, tented change area. “You seem to be feeling better,” Max observed. “I always feel better when I can keep an eye on Sydney.” Max regarded him quietly and nodded. He rubbed his jaw, remembering Nigel’s solid punch with a small tingle of pride. “You’re not as weak as you pretend to be, Nigel.” Nigel glanced at him. “Are you looking for an apology?” he asked. “You won’t get one.” “No, I don’t want that.” Max handed Nigel a framed photograph. “I did want to show you this.” Nigel took the picture and studied the dark haired beauty staring back at him. “She’s lovely,” he admitted. “Dark hair and eyes, dressed in a peasant blouse and long skirt, her feet bare. She was perhaps twelve or thirteen. Her skin tone was just slightly darker than Sydney’s. “Who is she?” “Her name is Roseitta.” Max chuckled. “Of course Ian always called her Rosebud.” Nigel glanced at him. “She’s your sister, Nigel. Well, half sister, but a blood tie, just the same.” Nigel almost dropped the photo. He had a sister! He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “What poor woman did you steal her from?” Max visibly flinched. “I was actually married to her mother, a young senorita named Serena.” “Where is your wife now?” “She died of Cancer several years ago.” Nigel felt a pang of pity. “Sorry.” “She was a sweet woman, I never loved her, not as I loved Lizzie, but she gave me Rose and I will always be grateful for that.” “Where is she now?” Nigel asked, staring at the photograph, once again. “She is in a boarding school in France.” Max pulled out a cigar and lit it. “I promised her mother to keep her as far away from my business as possible, and I kept that promise.” “So she doesn’t know that you’re a criminal?” Max shrugged. “To her I am merely a wealthy businessman.” His eyes narrowed on Nigel. “Only three other people know of her existence, Nigel. One of them was Ian, and now you know.” He sighed, heavily. “I trust you will keep it to yourself. If my enemies knew I had a daughter, they would try to hurt her to hurt me. I cannot allow that.” Nigel nodded. “I won’t say anything.” It wasn’t this girl’s fault that her father was a criminal. Max, it seemed, was in the mood to reminisce. “I went wrong somewhere with Ian. I spoiled him. He became unrelenting and cruel, and nothing I said could change him.” He smiled. “Except with Rose. She was his only ray of light in the world. He doted on her, adored her. She felt the same. When she was young, the two were inseparable, and he flew to see her often in France, after we had to send her away, for her own safety, of course.” Nigel didn’t want to hear about Ian. He’d witnessed the coldness in the man’s eyes, understood the brutality he was capable off and it was frightening to see that in a face that was his own mirror image. “How old is Rose now?” “She just turned seventeen and is thinking about going to college. She hasn’t decided where she wants to go yet, but she wants to be a child psychologist.” “That’s very admirable.” “Yes. She’s a remarkably gifted child.” Max regarded Nigel, closely. “She would give you a run for your money, I think.” Nigel shrugged and set the photograph down as Sydney returned, wearing a halter-top beneath a tied white blouse and flowing brown skirt. “You look nice,” he said. She shrugged, it wasn’t exactly her usual fare, but it was comfortable. “Thanks. I always try to dress nice for my wardens.” Max ignored her dig. “Lunch will be ready, momentarily,” he advised, his eyes narrowing on her. “Then you will be returned to your room, Professor Fox. Any attempts to escape will get you shot and I am sure Nigel would not want that.” “Sydney would be pretty upset too,” she retorted. Nigel bit his lip to keep from smiling as Sydney noticed the photograph. “Who’s that?” “No one,” Max growled, grabbing the photo and rising from his chair. “We should go to the table.” Sydney glanced at Nigel, who just shrugged. He’d tell her later, despite his promise to Max, he had no secrets from Sydney. Well, except for one very important secret, but she would never know about that. They settled at the elaborate dining table, with Max on one end and Sydney seated opposite Nigel. Their lunch was English style fish and chips, a surprise for Nigel. “I thought you’d appreciate a taste of home,” Max encouraged as he settled his cloth napkin across his lap. “It’s very good, try it.” Nigel shrugged and tried a piece of the fish. He nodded. “It’s good.” Max grinned broadly. “I knew you’d be pleased.” He picked up his glass of wine. “You see, son, things don’t have to be so hard between us.” Nigel exchanged a look with Sydney, and then glanced around the room, suddenly aware that they had a new man standing guard. “Where’s Ricardo?” Max squeezed a slice of lemon over his fish. “He’s no longer a problem.” He managed a smile for Sydney. “How is your fish, Professor?” “It’s…fine.” Sydney was more concerned about Nigel’s sudden pallor. “You…what do you mean?” Nigel asked, afraid of what Mason would answer. “I warned him what would happen if he disobeyed my orders again, Nigel.” Nigel set down his fork, no longer hungry. Not that he cared about the Mexican brute, but the idea that Mason had killed someone because of him was hard to swallow. Max was confused by Nigel’s reaction. “For God’s sake, boy. He assaulted you! What do you care what happens to him?” “He didn’t deserve to die for it.” “He knew the consequences of his actions.” Nigel shook his head and pushed back from the table. “Excuse me.” “Nigel!” Max called as Nigel disappeared from the room. Sydney moved to follow but was quickly advised otherwise by the gunman that stepped up to her. Nigel stalked outside, he needed fresh air, and he needed to catch his breath. He had to get them out of there. Mason really was mad. If he could kill off his own men so ruthlessly, without any feeling, there was no way he would hesitate to kill Sydney. “Oh Christ!” He dropped into a poolside chair and gripped his hair. What kind of monster was Mason, this man that was his biological father? What sort of evil DNA was running through his own body? He’d honestly let himself believe that he could outsmart Mason, turn it around, but it wasn’t possible. He hadn’t wanted to feel anything for Mason, the man betrayed the Bailey family, but he had started to feel something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there and it was real. Now, the idea that he’d let himself consider Mason as anything other than what he was, a man with no feelings and no conscience, was beyond absurd. Mason was a cold-hearted killer and they were at his mercy. “Think, Nigel, think!” he demanded, pulling at his hair, as if that might stimulate his brain cells into forming a brilliant plan. He wasn’t a strategist, not like Sydney, he couldn’t do this! “Seńor Bailey?” Nigel glanced up, startled to find Maria standing beside him. “Are you okay?” “No,” he shook his head, miserably. “I’m not the least bit okay.” “Is there anything I can do, Seńor?” He looked up at her again, so kind, so sweet. Anything he asked of her would get her killed, if Mason found out. He didn’t want another death on his conscience. “No. No there isn’t, Maria. Just stay away from me, please. For your own sake.” Maria stood there for a moment, and then pulled a chair over to his and sat, facing him. “When I was a little girl, my papa told me all about my ancestors, and how they struggled to survive through many hardships. He told me that I should never give up my family pride, that I should always fight against those who would try to destroy our heritage.” Nigel stared at her. “Then, how can you work for a man like Mason?” Maria glanced at her hands for a moment. “Pride is compromised when you have no money and no food, Seńor. When your choice is to sell yourself to the gringos that are responsible for stealing your land, or for turning a blind eye to another enemy to secure your own survival.” Nigel reached out and touched her hand. “I’m sorry, Maria. I…I have no right to judge. I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand. “You are not like them,” she said wistfully. “I could see that when you challenged Seńor Mason about his treasures.” She smiled. “I was surprised a gringo…sorry, a man like you would know so much, be so passionate about a culture that was not his own.” She lowered her eyes and released his hand. “It made me ashamed, for turning my back on my people.” “You had to do what you did to survive, like you said. There is no shame in that, Maria.” “Si, but there would be shame in allowing such a remarkable man to suffer so.” “Maria…” She slipped something into his hands and wrapped his fingers tightly around it. “You are a braver man than I, Seńor Bailey. I do this for you, and for my papa, so he will be proud of his little girl again.” She rose and walked away, before Nigel could reply. He looked down at the objects in his hand, a piece of paper and a cell phone, so small and compact that his hand covered it. He curled his hand around it and slipped it into the pocket of his trousers. “Thank you, Maria,” he whispered and rose to return to the dining room. Nigel was startled out of a horrendous nightmare by the chirping of his watch. He sat up, gasping, and once again, drenched in sweat. “Christ!” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and slowly slipped from the bed. He’d set his watch for exactly 11:50. The note Maria had given him told him that shift change for the guard watching the cameras was at midnight and that the two guards usually stood outside the room for about ten minutes, briefing each other and having a smoke. At the moment, they would still be watching, so he rose and stumbled to the bathroom. He’d changed clothes in there, earlier, so he could quickly change again without being seen. He had ten minutes to dress, return to his room, climb out, and make it to Sydney’s bathroom. He pulled on his clothes, and then waited as the time clicked by on his watch. Midnight! He ran out of the bathroom, stuffed his bed to look like he was in it, then quickly moved to the veranda. He only hoped that Maria’s information was correct and that Mason wouldn’t be waiting for him when he got to Sydney’s. He made it across the roof top pretty quickly, now that he had been over them once before, and there was the cable again, still wrapped around the satellite dish. They hadn’t known he had used it. He uncoiled it, taking only a second to glance at his watch, and grimaced. He had two minutes. There was no time for slow and steady, he tossed the cable over and slid down as fast as he could to her window, where she was waiting. She pulled him inside and they stumbled out of the camera’s range at exactly 12:09 and thirty seconds. “Do you think it worked?” he asked her, still on the floor with her behind him. “Well, no one has broken in yet,” she commented as she helped him to his feet and grabbed his camera. She had already taken a picture of the window at the exact angle of the camera, and had removed the covering, now they only had to connect the two cameras. “I was hoping you’d be wearing one of the party dresses for our last night,” he teased. Sydney climbed up onto a chair that she had brought in from her room “Don’t push it,” she grinned. She had set her alarm, exactly as Nigel had done, waited until midnight, then rose and used all those frilly dresses to stuff her bed. “Besides, I had to use them to make the body.” “Ah.” Nigel pulled the blade he had taken from his disposable razor, out of his back pocket, and handed it to her. “Don’t cut yourself.” Sydney smirked. “Yes, Mom.” She opened the tiny compartment on the side of the fiber optic camera and inspected the miniscule wires inside. She spliced the red wire and the white wire. “Why is the theme of MacGuyver running through my head?” he muttered as he handed her the cables to the digital camera. Sydney grinned and pulled off the rubber tubing to the copper wire inside. She tied the red and white wire to the camera cable and plugged the other end into the camera display. A picture of the window appeared and, if she did it correctly, it would be displayed on the video camera as well. “You’re brilliant,” Sydney decided as she balanced the camera against the corner wall and the camera stand. “We’ll see,” he decided, as she put her hands on his shoulders, to maintain her balance, and hopped down. “It was only my idea, you had to do all the work.” “What else is new?” she taunted as they moved to the window. “You can just as easily stay here and entertain the animals, Syd,” he retorted, though he would never follow through on the threat. He wanted her out of here and away from Mason more than anything. Sydney grinned. “Let’s go, you first.” Nigel grimaced, as he looked down to the ground, far, far below them. “I’ve changed my mind, I think I’ll stay here.” Sydney patted his back. “Come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?” He sighed, defeated. “Out the window?” She nodded and he climbed out onto the ledge, grabbed the wire, and shimmied up. Sydney quickly followed and she crawled after Nigel as he moved across the roof. “Are you sure you have a way for us to get out of here?” Sydney asked. “If we reach the ground unnoticed, then yes.” “That’s a pretty big if, Nigel.” He glanced back at her and smiled, showing none of his inner turmoil. “What’s that you’re always saying, go with the flow?” Sydney grumbled at having her own words used against her. She trusted him to know what he was doing, but she was used to being the leader. It was hard for her to take a back seat, especially when their lives were at stake. “Where are we going?” “The stables.” “You got us horses? You’re allergic to horses!” “It’s better than horses,” he assured as they followed the slight dip in the roof and then jumped a story and a half onto the flat roof of the stable canopy. He pointed to the corners of the large gray building just behind them. “Two cameras there, they move every two minutes in a sweep.” “How do you know that?” “I memorized their placement and movement when Mason gave me a tour yesterday.” Sydney shook her head; Nigel’s mind was an amazing thing. “Down!” They flattened themselves against the canopy as a guard appeared below them, and then wandered off. “Okay, now!” They scrambled up, jumped to the ground and scurried along the stable wall, hiding behind a couple of haystacks as the cameras swept their way. Nigel watched the cameras, counting the seconds in his head, and then nodded to Sydney and she followed him into the grey building beyond the stables. They closed the door and were encased in darkness. Sydney glanced around, surprised that there weren’t any windows. Nigel flicked a switch on the wall and revealed something huge, covered by a giant tarp. He pulled the covering away and Sydney gasped. “Is that what I think it is?” “Isn’t it brilliant?” Nigel fairly giggled with glee as he climbed up onto the wing and started rummaging inside the two-seater cockpit. “Mason said everything works. It’s an original AVRO 540, Syd. Can you imagine?” He turned to her. “You can fly it, right?” Sydney was almost too stunned to respond. “I…I can try.” She’d never flown a WWI fighter plane. She glanced around and saw no opening. “Um…Nige, how are we supposed to get out?” Nigel was still digging through the cockpit, until he came up with two sets of aviator goggles. “Do I have to think of everything?” he sighed, tossing her a pair of the eyewear before hopping off the plane and moving over what now appeared to be a hanger door. “You fly, I’ll push.” Sydney scowled. He wouldn’t have enough time to get inside the plane. The minute they started the engine the guards would be alerted. “Nigel…” “It’s okay, I know what I’m doing.” He waved at her and pulled on his goggles. “Go, get in.” Short of getting shot, nothing would keep him from getting her out of here, especially riding in that beautiful piece of machinery. “Syd, start the bloody plane!” Sydney climbed aboard, pulled on her goggled and settled in the front seat. She checked the gages, tried to figure what every thing was, then found the ignition switch. As soon as she started the engine, Nigel pushed the massive hanger doors open and Sydney frantically waved at him to get back to the plane. He climbed up and hopped into the second cockpit, just as two guards appeared in front of the doors. “”Go, Syd!” Sydney pressed down on the gas and the plane stuttered forward. The gunmen managed to get off two shots, before they had to jump out of the way to avoid being run over. They burst out of the hanger and Nigel tapped her shoulder to point out the airstrip on the left. She turned the plane towards it as two jeeps appeared behind them with guns blazing. “Up, up, get up!” Sydney growled as she tried to get the plane airborne, but it was like tying to fly a tank. She pulled hard on the stick between her legs, adjusted the flaps on her wings, pressed for more gas and tilted her rudder; nothing would get them off the ground. “Syd, they’re gaining!” “I know, I know!” There were two jeeps crowding her on either side, trying to run them off the runway. “Come on!” She turned hard to the left and rammed one of the jeeps, the landing gear caught against the metal and bounced, propelling them up and into the air. “Yes, yes! Climb you beautiful thing, climb!” She smiled as Nigel released an excited whoop from the back seat. Nigel glanced down at the men and vehicles scrambling below them and patted Sydney on the back, almost screaming to be heard over the roar of the engine. “Well done, Syd!” Sydney adjusted her course. Now that they were in the air, the ancient plane flew like a dream, but she spoke too soon. There was a stutter in the engine and the needle on her fuel gage was slowly dropping. “They pierced the fuel tank!” she cried. “What?” “The fuel tank! One of the bullets must have hit it, we’re not going to be able to stay in the air.” Nigel glanced down and suddenly; it wasn’t as exciting to be this far up. “What now?” “I need a place to land!” “Syd, they’re right below us! If we land now, they’ll catch us for sure.” “If I don’t land now, we’re mincemeat.” She already had a death grip on the stick in an attempt to keep them elevated, but she could feel the plane dropping lower as it lost fuel. “We have another problem!” Nigel cried. “It looks like the landing gear buckled when we hit the jeep!” Sydney swore. “Great, just freaking great!” She thought desperately, tried to formulate a way out that wouldn’t get them killed. “Does this thing have parachutes?” There was a long pause before Nigel answered. “You’ve got to be kidding!” That meant there were chutes and Nigel just didn’t want to have to use them, he had a think about jumping out of planes. “Get yours on!” “Syd…” “Now, Nigel!” She couldn’t keep the plane up much longer and they couldn’t land without wheels. “This sucks!” he growled as he struggled to pull his chute on, and then helped her on with hers. “This really sucks!” “Ready?” Sydney cried. “No!” His words were interrupted as he was suddenly ejected from his seat.
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