Page 52 of Stilettos & Secrets on the 7 Seas

“No.”

“A letter opener?” Itty paused and winked at him. “I’ll give you a slice.”

Good grief. If Itty was going to break us out, we were doomed.

The guard agreed to radio for a military issue spork.

“Itty’s got game.” Fredericka’s words carried a smile.

Itty moved into the hallway out of my line of vision. The guard followed her, turning his back to us and reaching for his two-way radio. While he was speaking into the receiver, Itty mumbled, “Hibbidi Bibbity Boo!”

The keys danced out of the guard’s pocket and over to my cell. I reached my hand through the food slot and snagged them.

Itty engaged the guard in a deep conversation about the roasted lamb she’d cooked for dinner last night. Thankfully, our guard was a foodie, or hungry, or both.

Using some creative maneuvers, I managed to unlock my door. I did the same for Ace and Fredericka.

“We have to get to the hangar.” I gave Itty a thankful nod.

She looked down at the cake and tsked. “Would you look at that?”

The guard bent over, examining the cake. Itty upended the plate and buried the guard’s face in pink frosted supreme. The Three Stooges would have been proud.

“Run!” I pointed toward the exit.

“Hey!” The guard surfaced looking like an angry pink Smurf, one hand on his gun and the other radioing for backup.

“Oh, my goodness, I slipped.” Itty kicked the guard with her pointy-toed shoe. He dropped to one knee. “Sorry, restless leg syndrome.”

“I love you, Itty,” I called out as I ran past them. I rounded the corner and glanced behind me. Ace followed, swooping up a handful of cake as he passed the guard.

“Are you mental?” Fredericka asked, running behind Ace.

“Itty’s cakes are the best. This one has raspberry filling.” Ace licked a glob of pink off his fingers.

We took the stairs down to area B. I swiped Al’s badge to access the floor. We sprinted down the long hall and took a sharp right.

“Stop,” two guards shouted behind us. We’d almost made it to the hangar.

“Go. Save Marco and bring my sister home.” Fredericka motioned toward the hangar, then turned and rammed into both guards, knocking them down with one body slam. I was gobsmacked. Ace yanked me out of my envy trance, and we ran flat out toward the landing pads.

I slowed. Something felt off. The suits that monitored the hangar were missing.

“Four hours, impressive.” Jake leaned against the wall just inside the door.

We were fucked. He’d never let us leave.

“Jake,” I started to beg, but he turned his back to us, speaking into his headset about some imaginary issue with the hangar ceiling. Sirens began screaming, indicating a breach in security.

My vessel was the closest. “Mine.”

We made a flying leap onto the landing pad and into my outhouse. I gave my pink stilettos one last wistful glance and made a mental picture of a male pirate.

“Bloody ’ell, Jen, make the jump!” Ace hollered as he slammed the door and fell beside me.

Tucking the tiny pouch I’d brought from home between my cheek and gum, I spoke the word that catapulted us to 1718, leaving the hangar, Jake, and my utmost appreciation behind.

Nineteen

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