Watching each other’s backs every step of the way, they retreated to the VIP Quarters. Encountering no resistance, but finding it no less reassuring all the same. Though relieved to see the guest quarters empty, they were not terribly surprised to find the Young Master’s closed.
“Who’s out there?” they heard Maximilian’s muffled voice demand. “We’re armed, you know!”
“It’s okay!” Justin assured him. “It’s just us!”
“How do I know you’re not being held at gunpoint or something?” The jangled suspicion coming through even clearer than his voice.
“Because I wouldn’t be here if they were,” the bounty hunter answered, commenting, “Not bad, though, at least you’re still thinking…”
“And why should I trust you?”
“Because she helped us beat Striker,” Shades told him.
“Have you seen Bandit?” Max asked. “I haven’t seen him since the attack started…”
“He’s fine,” Maximilian answered as he opened the door for them, power pistol pointed out warily.
“Young Master—” Sebastian blurted from behind the bed, looking skittish enough to hit the deck at the first sudden move.
“It’s okay,” he reassured the butler, even as he confirmed for himself that the hall was as devoid of enemies as they said. “So what happened?”
“Mercer’s taken the bridge,” Shades informed him.
Max, meanwhile, brushed past them the moment he saw his feline friend in the cabin, both immensely relieved to see each other alive and well.
“And Striker’s crew have the engine room,” the bounty hunter added. “I’m sure of it. Which means things just got a whole lot more complicated. And now we’re pet-sitting?”
Justin and Shades, meanwhile, wasted no time racing into the other room and gathering up their gear, thanking their lucky stars that all of those interruptions had also prevented the pirates from looting any of it. Retreating back to the other room, they hastily threw on their clothes, the awkwardness of their capture coming back with a vengeance now that the fighting had subsided. At least for the moment, they now understood, as the implications of the bounty hunter’s words began to sink in.
“Who are you?” Maximilian finally demanded, summing up all of their collective curiosity.
“My name is Roxy,” she answered, “but most call me the Hunter.”
“Or ‘That Crazy Bitch’…” Justin noted sourly.
“And most folks who call me that tend to end up on the wrong side of fights with me,” Roxy warned him. “Besides, kid, right now you have bigger problems to worry about.”
“We’re sitting ducks out here, aren’t we?” Shades asked point-blank.
“You catch on quick,” Roxy replied. “Without the engines, we have no chance in hell of getting back to Alta. Which means that from here on out, we’re in a battle for control of this ship between now and dry land. Perhaps we should start with a roll call. I told you my name.”
“Max,” he told her, “and this is Bandit.”
“Shades.”
“Justin.”
“I’m Maximilian Vandenberg, the owner of this ship,” the Young Master introduced himself, “And this is— was— my butler, Sebastian. I’m grateful for your help.”
“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” Roxy cautioned him. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”
“You know something about all this, don’t you?” Though there was little question in Maximilian’s tone.
“From the looks of things, more than you do,” the bounty hunter told him. “But since I don’t have obstructive bureaucrats who won’t let me talk to key witnesses out here, perhaps you could tell me something I don’t know. What really happened to Albert Freedan and Aden Rawne?”
“You wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you,” the Young Master sighed, and the others nodded solemnly. “That’s why I gave them the short and sweet version. Freedan and Rawne are both dead, but they took a lot of money we were never able to recover…”
“Your detective work leaves much to be desired,” Roxy replied. “I got a lot of intel out of the members of Rawne’s crew you missed. As I’m sure you know by now, Mercer was the buyer for Freedan’s arms, one of his various money laundering schemes, and Mercer finally found a buyer of his own, Striker. Then Striker’s little stunt in Alta the other day threw a wrench in their works. Then, just when it looked like their deal might fall through, you went and approached the Assembly.”
“Sloan…” Maximilian hissed, remembering the name all too well from his little chat with Mercer.
“Freedan was already planning to use this ship, which is why they dragged it out of mothballs,” she explained, “so all Mercer had to do was smuggle his arms aboard as ‘cargo’ and Assemblyman Sloan could finally wash his hands of his part in the whole Vandenberg scandal.”
“But what about the rest of the Assembly?” Shades pointed out. “Are they just as crooked? And what about Mercer’s ‘past experience’?”
“I’m afraid you dropped the ball on that one,” Roxy told them. “Mercer is an arms dealer, a smuggler, and his ‘past experience’ running ships was as a pirate. According to my sources, he’s hi-jacked at least two other ships along the way, so I’m not surprised he backstabbed you, too. For what it’s worth, if he didn’t have a dangerous man like Aden Rawne backing him, that’s probably what he would have done to Freedan, as well.”
“So what do you know about Rawne?” Max piped up. “If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Rawne?” She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “According to my info, he’s a free-lance merc with a preference for high-rolling clients. Bodyguard, escort, expeditionary. Known to tide himself over with piracy between more lucrative clients… Or at least, he was.”
“And Freedan?” Justin wondered aloud.
“Next to nothing,” she admitted. “Possibly even an alias. Apparently, he was from New Cali, by all accounts, but that seems to be all anyone in Alta really knew about him. My guess? He probably pissed off some powerful people back in New Cali, and spent all this time looking for a way to buy his way back in.”
“Which leads us right back here,” Maximilian concluded.
“I was originally hoping to collect on Mercer and Striker, but now it’s down to just Mercer, and our chances of doubling back to Alta are pretty much shot now. That means the rest of his crew are living on borrowed time if they don’t hand him over. I don’t take prisoners unless they’re worth something…”
“So it’s kill or be killed with you?” Max looked her square in the eye.
“I’m a bounty hunter.” Roxy blinked, otherwise taking his gaze head-on. “I don’t get paid unless I haul someone’s ass in for something. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to spend the rest of this voyage surrounded by cutthroats waiting to kill me around every corner.”
“Trying to keep them all locked up would be a pain in the ass…” Justin agreed.
“But if anyone does surrender quietly,” Shades proposed, “we should find some section of the ship to use as a brig.”
“Your funeral,” Roxy shot back, “but if they get in my way, they’re dead. We’re dead in the water out here, boys. Have you given any thought to the food or water situation? And that’s to say nothing of what we do if Striker comes back around…”
All the while, Maximilian crumpled into the foot of his bunk, head down, looking as if he were trying to vanish into the corner.
“I’ve never really done anything on my own, have I?…” he nearly sobbed. “Maybe Freedan was right after all…”
Sebastian simply sighed, looking like he wanted to say something encouraging, but just couldn’t find the words after all they’d been through lately.
“Pull yourself together,” Shades told him, with every word trying not to dwell on the most recent gauntlet of perils he’d run himself. “We’ve survived worse than this. You’ve survived worse than this. Remember that.”
“And where were you when Freedan was taking my home?” he demanded, raising his head to stare right at her with his baleful gaze.
“Somewhere between Torgo and Alta… Your guess is as good as mine.”
The Young Master’s burning glare crumbled into a blank, ashen look.
“Don’t look at me like that, kid,” Roxy shot back. “I’m a bounty hunter, not a babysitter. I’m nobody’s hero. The Assembly didn’t even hire me until after Freedan disappeared. That’s just how it is.”
“Would ya cut him some slack?” Justin muttered. “He just lost his father, his home, everything…” Then paused and turned to him. “Still, be glad you got to have a father. Unlike some of us.”
“Shit happens.” Roxy shrugged. “The question is: what are you gonna do about it?”
Max simply stood there, looking at his double as if he wanted to say something, yet held his peace, wearing the same somber expression as when they found Percival’s remains deep in the ruins.
“I’m here now,” she told him, “and I happen to be an ally. I don’t need any dead weight.”
A troublesome ally, Shades concluded, but an ally nonetheless…
“So what do you want?” Roxy asked him straight-up.
“I want my ship back.”
“Are you willing to fight for it?”
And she was answered with indecisive silence.
“Um, if I might contribute something here…” Sebastian spoke up for the first time in this conversation, then trailed off for a moment, as if to make sure they would actually hear him out before he resumed: “Mercer doesn’t have to rely on the engines. Don’t forget, the Excelsior is equipped with an auto-rigged sail system that allows for sailing and maneuvering of a ship this size, even with only a skeleton crew onboard.”
“If he’s remembered that,” Roxy pointed out, “then Alta is out of the question. That means we’ll have to regain control of the ship before he can do anything else.”
The cabin got very quiet as they steeled themselves to take the next step.
Author's Chapter Notes:
the predator's predator
