Buccaneer (Dane Maddock Adventures) (13 page)

“
That
’
s not all that
’
s impressive about me, blondie.
”
He moved his hips suggestively.

“
I do not see here that you have a job, or have ever held one.
”
She cocked her head and waited for a reply.

“
See now, I
’
ve worked here and there.
”
His smug grin flickered.
“
It
’
s hard, you know. Not many jobs to be had.
”

“
You have never held a job for which you earned a salary or paid income taxes.
”

“
So what if I haven
’
t? That
’
s not a crime now, is it?
”

“
You are a parasite, Mister MacKenzie. Britain has provided you with support for your entire life, yet you repay her by preying on good and decent people.
”

“
Most of them wasn
’
t decent, Miss. No more than me, anyhow.
”
His grin was back.

“
Give me one reason I should let you leave here alive, Mister MacKenzie.
”

His face turned beet red and he trembled, not with fear, but rage.
“
Bollocks. You ain
’
t going to do nothing to me.
”
The man was either too arrogant or too lacking in imagination to
understand
he was in her power.

“
Let us try again. If you ceased to exist at this very moment, give me one example of how Britain would be
the worse for it
.
”

“
Piss off!
”
If his hands had not been cuffed, Morgan was sure he would have attacked her right then and there. Good!

“
Nothing, then? Because I can think of several ways in which your death would improve our country immensely.
”
She sniffed.
“
Not the least of which would be the absence of your foul stench.
”

“
Let me go or I
’
ll...
”
He glanced down at his handcuffs.

“
What? You
’
ll hit me, like you did to your girlfriend?
”
She nodded to Jacob who produced a key and removed MacKenzie
’
s cuffs.
“
That is exactly what I want.
”

“
What?
”
The confusion in his eyes was comical.

“
I want to fight you, Mister MacKenzie. You may use any of the weapons you see here.
”
She nodded to the rack.
“
I shall be unarmed. If you fight me and win, Jacob will drive you home and give you one hundred pounds for your trouble. Should you lose, you may still walk out of here.
”

“
What if I don
’
t want to?
”
He looked all around the room, searching for a way out.
“
There
’
s some kind of trick here. Let me go.
”

“
If you do not fight me, Jacob will shoot you and bury you in the moor.
”

“
You
’
re out of your mind.
”
He took two steps toward her and froze, recognition dawning in his eyes.
“
I
’
ve seen you before. You
’ve
been on television and whatnot. Just wait until I tell my story.
Somebody’ll pay me nicely for it.
”

Jacob glanced at her and she smiled.

“
Fight me, and you will be free to go and tell your story to anyone you like.
”
In one swift movement she closed the gap between them and slapped him across the face. The loud crack and sharp sting felt good.
“
Hit me.
”
She struck him again, this time with a closed fist.

Richard reeled backward, pressing a hand to his split lip. He raised his bloody hand, eyes filled with disbelief.

“
You crazy bitch!
”

He swung a wild right cross that Morgan easily ducked. She sidestepped and drove a fist into his side where his ribs ended. He grunted in pain but managed another swing, which she ducked. This time she drove a roundhouse kick to the inside of his knee and followed with a right cross to his nose. Her fist struck home with a satisfying crunch.

Richard flailed blindly, trying to grab hold of her, but she
was too fast for him
. Another kick to the knee and he stumbled to the floor.

“
You fight like a Frenchman,
”
she hissed. In an actual life and death situation she would have finished him, but this was something else entirely.

Richard found renewed strength and, with a roar, leapt at her. He almost managed to grab hold of her, but she sprang to the side and he crashed into the wall. Now, mad with rage, he went for the weapons. He grabbed a longsword and charged.

Morgan easily eluded his clumsy strokes and feeble thrusts. It was not long before he began to tire
—
he struggled to keep the sword aloft, and his breath came in ragged gasps. Summoning the last of his strength, he raised the sword and rushed in for a vicious downstroke. Morgan dodged and drove a roundhouse kick into his unprotected middle. The breath left him in a rush, and he dropped to one knee. Knowing he would offer no further meaningful resistance, she delivered an axe kick to the back of his skull.

It took Richard ten minutes to recover whatever wits he had at his disposal. Jacob wiped the blood off from
hi
s face, congratulated him on a
“
bloody good fight
”
and offered him a glass of water. He sipped it, staring daggers at Morgan.

“
I
’
ll show you out if you
’
re ready,
”
Jacob said.

“
Where
’
s my hundred pounds?
”
Richard snapped.

“
You didn
’
t win.
”
Morgan said.
“
But you do get to leave here alive.
”

Richard didn
’
t bother to argue. He lurched to his feet and followed Jacob out.

Jacob returned a few minutes later.
“
I assume you want to watch.
”
His voice was as dull as the look in his eyes.

“
Of course,
”
Morgan said. Her eyes turned to the television on the wall. Jacob turned it on, revealing a wide-angle shot of the formal garden. Jacob zoomed in on Richard, who was limping toward the wood.
“
Your disapproval saddens me, Jacob.
”
Morgan kept her eyes on the screen as she spoke.

“
I don
’
t mind the fighting,
”
he said.
“
These blokes all deserve an ass whipping, and you
’
re more than fair about it. But this...
”
He gestured at the screen.
“
I just don
’
t know.
”

“
We are culling t
he flock. Can you honestly say our nation
would be better of
f
with him and the others alive?
”

Jacob shook his head.

“
Besides, the children need to hunt. It is their nature.
”
She smiled as the feed switched over to a camera in the wood. Richard was already jumping at every sound. He sensed danger.

“
I would respectfully argue it is their training, not their nature, Ma
’
am.
”

“
Centuries of breeding and, yes, training have made them what they are today. Perhaps it was not in the nature of their ancestors, but it is their nature. It amounts to the same thing.
”

“
True,
”
Jacob said.
“
Let me know when you wish for me to press the button.
”

They lapsed into a tense silence as they watched Richard move into the depths of the wood. Things were about to get very interesting.

A branch rustled somewhere behind him. Richard spun around, sending a new burst of pain shooting up his injured leg. He hadn
’
t taken a licking like that since school. The bitch must be some kind of soldier or spy or something. He
’
d be well shut of her and this damn forest.

He didn
’
t like it out
here. He couldn
’
t properly say he knew anything about the outdoors, he was a city lad after all, but this place was all wrong. It felt unnatural. The trees weren
’
t planted in rows or anything, but
it had an orderly feel to
it, as if everything were laid out according to a plan. And there were no bird sounds, only the occasional rustle of something heavy moving through the treetops or scuffling along the ground.

He quickened his pace, not entirely certain where he was headed. The black fellow had told him to keep going straight ahead and he would find
a gate that opened onto
a path leading into town. Richard had been too out of sorts to ask the name of the town or how, exactly, he was to get back home, but he didn
’
t much care. He just wanted away from this place. And when he got home, he
’
d call one of those reporters who made their living exposing public figures, march right back to this place, and show the world what a nutter the woman was. He
’
d make her sorry she
’
d crossed him.

This time, the sound came from his left, and he saw a flash of movement. So there
was
something out there. Now he knew for certain he wasn
’
t imagining things, but he
’
d have preferred his own paranoia to what he had just seen. It wasn
’
t much
—
only a glimpse of a mottled hide of dark green and gold or orange, he couldn
’
t be sure, covered in a lattice-work pattern of raised ridges. What the bloody hell was it?

He veered off to his right and quickened his pace, hoping he would not lose his way. There were more sounds now, coming from every direction, and
mov
ing closer. He scanned the ground for a stick, a rock, anything he could use as a weapon, but the forest floor was clean; another thing that lent to its unnatural feel.

A noise right beside him made him jump. With a scrabbling and scratching like sharp claws on a wooden surface, something climbed the tree where he stood. The thick trunk blocked the thing from view, but he caught a glimpse of a scaled tail vanish
ing
into the leaves up above.

So complete was his panic, he was scarcely aware of the warm, wet feeling as he soaked his boxers. Clutching a belt loop to keep his pants from sliding down and tripping him, he ran blindly. Limbs slapp
ing
his face
,
he boun
d
ed like a
pinball from tree-to-tree.

From somewhere close by, he heard
a low moan that he realized was coming from his own mouth. He
’
d heard that sound many times in his life, always from someone he
’
d robbed or beaten up. It was the sound someone made when they finally realized they were powerless to stop what was about to happen to them. Now
,
it was finally his turn.

He broke through a thick tangle of brush and suddenly he was flying. He cried out in shock and flailed his arms as he hurtled through the air and, with an icy shock, plunged into darkness. Down and down he went, certain this was the descent into hell.

Then his feet touched something solid, and he realized he had fallen into water. He pushed up, but his booted feet held fast in the soft muck. Panic, which had momentarily faded, rose anew, and he struggled to break free. He worked his way out of one boot, then the other, only to have his baggy jeans tangle around his knees. He tried to cry out and got a mouthful of water for his trouble. Choking and thrashing about, he opened his eyes and saw a glimmer of light up above. He
’
d never get there. It was too far.