Chapter Five
“What is this?” the princess raged, unaccustomed to being on the defensive side of an attack.
“Man, what I wouldn’t give for my staff right now,” Mike muttered. Micky nudged his arm and slid him a tiny pouch of throwing stars.
“This, my dear Collette, is to ensure they will not interfere with me! Now step back and you won’t be harmed!” the ambassador roared.
Mike pulled one of the stars out and flicked it, striking one of the swordsmen in the arm. The swordsman wailed and pulled back.
The princess took a step forward, still in the Monkees’ protective circle. “I am your princess! How dare you act disrespectfully! You are to safeguard Nahudi’s interests, not your own!”
“Whoa,” Micky murmured. “Remind me not to mess with her.”
Davy chuckled. “Fireball.”
The ambassador laughed. “You are blind, Collette. You have no idea how the world works. Take them!” The swordsmen lunged forward.
Mike ducked, ramming his shoulder into the midsection of the nearest man. A sharp “whoof!” was followed by a clatter as the man dropped his blade. Turning, Mike quickly swept it up.
Peter’s heel found a second man’s most vulnerable spot, but he managed to retain his blade. That didn’t last, as the blond monkey whirled him over his head, breaking his wrist and gaining the weapon.
Armed with two blades, Peter and Mike swiftly dispatched the others while Davy and Micky stood close by Collette, ready to keep any stray blades or limbs away from her. One came too close, and Davy had to push Collette out of the way. She screamed. Davy hissed as the blade sliced through his shirt and skittered along his ribs, cutting deeply enough to crease his forehead with pain. Collette gasped when she saw his face pinch.
The ambassador just gaped as four men made short work of his heavily armed assassins.
When they’d finished, Mike and Peter leaped at the ambassador, their swords sliding towards his neck and stopping just as they touched his skin. He stood there, his eyes huge and his skin pale.
Collette stepped forward. “Tell me!” she demanded of the pair. “At my word, were I to give it—would you cut his throat?”
Mike exchanged a look with Peter. “No.”
“No,” Peter confirmed.
She nodded. “Men of honor, then, not blind obedience. Unlike you.” She glared at the ambassador. “Blinded by money! You’re no longer in the employ of Nahudi!”
“You can’t fire me!” he rallied. “You haven’t the authority!”
She glared at him, but addressed the others. “Tell me—if he were to be stripped of his diplomatic immunity, could he be arrested for what he’s done?”
“Blackmail, assault . . . I’d say so,” Mike said, casting a quick, concerned glance towards Davy.
Davy was leaning against the wall, breathing a little hard. “Attempted murder,” he growled, arm cradling his ribs tightly.
“That’ll get you a life sentence,” Micky said grimly.
Collette nodded and picked up the phone, dialing an extension. She glared at the ambassador. “Hello, Father? We have a problem.”
“You okay, Davy?” Micky said, crossing to his friend’s side. “How bad is it?”
Davy shook his head. “I’ll need stitches,” he gritted out.
Micky pulled Davy’s arm away and spread the tear. “It’s just a scratch, you big baby.”
“But it hurts . . . ”
Peter chuckled grimly. “He’ll be okay, if he’s bantering.”
Micky rapped his knuckles on top of Davy’s head, eliciting an angry “OW!” from the shorter man. “There. Now it doesn’t hurt as much, right?”
“You idiot!” was Davy’s reply.
“Guys, can we get back to business here?” Peter called.
“What business?” Micky said. “You guys have it under control,” he said, looking at the blades still poised near the ambassador’s neck.
Collette hung up the phone. “Gentlemen, this man is now a private citizen. Would you care to call the police?”
“What?” the ambassador roared.
“You, sir, have been fired. As interim Nahudi ambassador, I declare your actions appalling!”
“Shall we shoot fingers for the honor?” Micky said.
“No, let Davy do it,” Mike said. “He’s the one who got scratched.”
“With pleasure,” Davy said, stumbling over to the phone.
Peter looked at Mike. “I doubt the police will take kindly to us holding swords on the man.”
Mike nodded, lowering his. “Agreed. I think we can keep him still ourselves.”
Peter lowered his in return. The man trembled and looked about ready to run.
Davy picked up the phone, dialing zero and asking the operator to get him in touch with the nearest NYPD precinct.
The ex-ambassador took a tentative step toward the door; Peter’s foot snapped out, hitting the edge of the desk and barring his path. “Ah ah ah,” he admonished. “Naughty.”
With a sigh he seemed to wilt, sitting back in the chair and putting his head in his hands.
Davy hung up the phone. “They’re on their way.”
“Good.” Collette walked over to the ex-ambassador—and slapped him, hard. “How dare you,” she snarled again, moving back to stand by Peter and wait.
“What about Baker, ma’am?” Mike asked. “He still has a play to produce, and . . . we did come all the way from California.” He sincerely hoped he didn’t sound selfish.
“I will see what I can do for him.” She smiled at them.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
With the princess giving an aura of officiality to the story, the police took him right into custody.
“So that’s that?” Micky asked.
“Almost,” Peter sighed. “Baker still has to find a new backer.”
Collette smiled at him. “I will find one for him. It is the least I can do for my heroes.”
“ . . . and Davy has to heal,” Peter finished, nodding at the sagging Tiger.
“I’ll be fine,” Davy said. “Anyone have a needle and thread?”
Collette frowned, but the other three laughed.
“Lemme see,” Mike said. He took Davy’s shoulders and pushed him to the side, looking at the wound. “You don’t even need stitches, Davy. Just some aspirin and Band Aids.”
Davy winced. “So I’m not bleedin’ to death?”
“Not even to a coma.”
“Good.” He stood up. “Let’s get back to the hotel . . . see if Idiot’s tried to throw Baker out again.”
“Are you gonna be okay here, ma’am?” Mike asked.
Collette smiled. “I shall be fine. Thank you so much, my heroes.” She kissed each one of them.
Mike blushed deeply. “If you need anythin’ else we’ll be at the Hotel Merriweather with McKinley Baker. Call us if you need us.”
She nodded and closed the door behind them. As they started to walk away, they heard her pick up the phone and ask ‘Father’ if he knew someone who was interested in plays.
On to Chapter Six
Back to Chapter Four
Back to Secrets and Lies Index
