Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty (20 page)

“I’m glad we’re outta there.”

“You said it, Squiggy. Come on. Let’s return to the explosives shop and get back to the boss. He’s gonna be madder than a pit of pythons if we don’t hurry.”

“A pit of what?”

“Figure of speech. Let’s get moving.”

A silver-tipped cane poked Lenny in the chest. He looked up, and a man dressed in a trench coat and top hat gave them the once over. Lenny thought about pushing him away, but there was something about the way the small man stared as if he waited to see who would move first. The Union Jack mask covering up most of his face made him even more disturbing. Perhaps this was the agent they’d been sent to meet at the Waldorf Building.

“Mister Y?” Lenny asked hopefully.

Loud clanging erupted from one of the cars up the line. The man in the top hat shifted his gaze. By the time Lenny and Squiggy turned around, the man was running full speed to a collapsing passenger car. On top were four similarly dressed men. It was almost as if they were in uniform.

“What do you make of that?” Squiggy asked.

“I wish I knew.”

The car completed its folding collapse and disappeared under the platform. Once the car was out of sight they saw the same man and woman they’d been running into all day trot across the yard. Even though they’d caught up with the two, Lenny suddenly wished he was somewhere else. It was uncanny how they kept running into each other. Almost as if the two were following them, instead of the other way around.

~ * ~

“Right there, Betsy, do you see them?”

It was possible she didn’t. Jack lowered a filter over his right lens that allowed him to better perceive the pattern and flow in the human traffic. For the most part people and vehicles moved either toward or away from them. Two people didn’t seem to fit with the traffic’s flow and had a stop and go, moving along diagonal lines compared to the normal traffic. There was also the fact one of them appeared to have smoke coming from some massive device on his back.

“Jack, sit down. It’s nearly dinner time and even if someone is trying to follow us, it’ll be a while before—”

Jack, still watching the movement of the traffic behind them, turned around to see why she stopped in mid-sentence. The reason was quite clear. She wasn’t there anymore.

“Betsy?”

A quick scan, and he could find no trace of her. He scampered down the length of the tower of wood and looked over the edge. If she had fallen then surely someone would have stopped to help her up. Jack rushed back to the top of the wood then leaned over the side but before he could continue down the other side a cane in his chest interrupted his progress.

From his bent position, he looked up into the face of a man in a top hat with a Union Jack mask. It could be the same man, but the eyes were different. The man smiled. Jack smiled back, but was sure the man couldn’t see the smile behind Jack’s mask.

The man kicked Jack in the face. This did little but cause Jack to jerk upright. The man who kicked him, on the other hand, doubled over in pain, dropped his cane, and fell off the trailer.

“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.