Chapter Four – The Great Escape

Two weeks! He had survived two weeks of her royal snobbery and general distaste of him. The security system in her secret passage was installed without a hitch and Malcolm couldn't help but gloat. To him it was like Christmas morning, watching her pout as he tested the new system. He always appreciated technologies that made his job run smoother.

She barely spoke to him now, which was fine by him. Hopefully, her Royal Pain had finally realized it was pointless to goad him. He wasn't going anywhere.

Even when he wasn't escorting her to official functions, Malcolm was working. He'd pored through the entertainment rags and learned a great deal about publishing companies and how to sell magazines. Most of what was printed about his charge was total tripe. Of course he had learned some interesting information, like the capture of something referred to as a Bat-Boy and that the image of the Virgin Mother had been seen in a bus window in South Philadelphia. The most intriguing was a story which had him and Her Royal Spoiled Bitch romantically involved!

Malcolm hadn't found that story in the least bit amusing and Hoshi had had a fit, going so far as to contact the rag for a retraction.

A soft knock on his door interrupted his thoughts and Malcolm set down the PADD with tomorrow's schedule. "Enter," he called.

"Sorry to interrupt, Malcolm," Jon stated. "But I wanted to suggest a change in the itinerary for tomorrow's trip to Vulcan."

"Why?" Malcolm questioned softly.

"Hoshi normally flies out of San Francisco. It's too predictable and something just doesn't feel right to me. Perhaps you and she should fly out of Los Angeles tomorrow."

Relaxing his shoulders, Malcolm nodded. "Of course, sir," he agreed softly. "I'll just make the necessary arrangements to the detail. I've arranged for –"

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Malcolm," Jon said. "I know how difficult it can be to escort Hoshi off planet."

"It's no problem, sir. My team will adapt."

Jon patted Malcolm on the back. "That's why I recommended you for the appointment."

"Thank you, sir," Malcolm replied.

Nodding, Jon backed out of Malcolm's office.

--

Looking out the car window, Hoshi ignored Malcolm. He was insufferable and domineering, but she couldn't fault him for doing his job.

Just two nights ago, she attended a benefit concert and the crowd got out of control. She disliked crowds, the unknown variables of masses of people had always unsettled her. With a minimum of fuss, Malcolm had her in the car and on the way. She hadn't realized just how closed in the crowds made her feel. It made her sick to her stomach and gave her a roaring headache.

His ability was proven to her that night and she had grudgingly learned to appreciate his position in her life. It really was too bad that she was going to do what she was going to do. He still needed to be taught a lesson. And she was just the person to do that.

Observing her mannerisms, Malcolm frowned. She was too quiet, almost too serene. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he didn't want to tip her off that he knew something was wrong.

Familiar landmarks passed and the car took a turn too sharply.

Catching herself, Hoshi worried. "I thought we were departing from San Francisco."

"We had a slight change in plans," he replied.

She looked down, a momentary sense of panic settling in the pit of her stomach. Would they be able to lock onto her? Would the plan still work?

"What's wrong, Princess? You look pale," Malcolm said.

"I'm fine," she muttered through clenched teeth. "I just prefer to be updated on any changes is all. Are we still going to Vulcan for the summit, or has my destination changed as well?"

Malcolm shifted in his seat and didn't bother answering her.

"Well?" she asked sharply.

"Yes, you're still attending the summit."

"Oh joy," she muttered under her breath, the hectic schedule of the last two days grating on her nerves.

Malcolm scoffed. "You're a piece of work. You lead a life of privilege, yet you find something to complain about. Most people envy you. You have every material possession imaginable –"

"What's the use of having material possessions and a life of privilege if one hasn't the time to enjoy them?" she asked softly, cutting him off.

He had no answer for her. She looked sad and vulnerable. Shake it off Malcolm, he thought to himself. She's just a spoiled little girl.

"What?" she questioned. "No answer, Mister Bodyguard?"

"Listen. We've got liftoff and sixteen light years to travel. I'll be quiet if you do," he stated stiffly.

"Deal," Hoshi replied.

--

They walked freely though the terminal on their way to the private shuttle. Only a handful of security detail remained, peppering the various entrances and exits of the terminal. Once they were aboard the shuttle and airborne, they would be joined by a fighter escort.

"Could we stop for a second?" Hoshi asked quickly.

"For what?" Malcolm inquired.

Hoshi nodded toward the restroom and looked chagrined.

Rolling his eyes, Malcolm nodded, going into the restroom before her to secure it. "Hurry up."

"Miss you already," Hoshi grumbled as she brushed past him and entered the room.

He eyed her suspiciously, wondering about her comment.

In the mirror she watched him leave and breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung shut behind him. Now if only this thing works, she thought hopefully and twisted the ring on her finger.

It was a long shot now that he had changed the departure point. She wasn't crazy about beaming anywhere. But as long as it caused Malcolm grief, it was worth it. This would delay the summit greatly. But, again…it was worth it. She would disappear for a while and take a much-needed vacation, all with the help of her nearest and dearest friend, Travis.

Travis was waiting for her signal in San Francisco. She activated the ring he had given her and held her breath. Seconds ticked by as though they were minutes.

"Hoshi, are you okay?" an annoying British voice asked at her door.

Just as she was about to tell him to sod off, Hoshi felt the familiar tingle of a transporter lock and smiled.

Something was off. Something wasn't right. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he rushed to the stall she occupied. In horror, he watched as her feet shimmered. He busted the door open and watched her disappear. Reflexively, he grabbed for her, but it was too late.

Squashing a momentary flash of panic, Malcolm reached for his communicator and froze. This was too easy…almost planned. He was missing something. His training dictated he act now and alert the others, but his instincts cautioned him.

The change in itinerary had never sat well with him, and he started to suspect that Archer was involved. The grid that prevented beam-outs was notoriously weak at this spaceport, much weaker than San Francisco's grid. He tucked his communicator back into his pocket and grabbed his PADD, punching in her tracking code. The feeling of dread grew bigger as he saw her signal near San Francisco. It was growing fainter.

--

Rematerializing on the transporter PADD, Hoshi breathed a sigh of relief and giggled. "Travis!" she called out, then frowned.

There was no answer. It was dark, too -- only the lights on the transporter alcove gave off any illumination. "Travis?"

Her stomach lurched as she felt the deck-plating move beneath her. She was on a ship. Why? Her elation quickly turned to dread.

A door opened and Hoshi shielded her eyes as the light from the hall spilled into the room. As she peeked through her fingers, she saw a tall familiar figure of a man. "Travis?"

"Welcome aboard, Your Highness," the familiar Southern twang of Travis' security captain greeted her with a slight sneer.

Smiling, Hoshi hopped off the pad. "I was starting to worry, Captain Tucker."

"Keep worrying," he drawled.

"What are you –" Hoshi's question died on her lips as a flash of light split through the darkness and she fell to the ground.

"Consider yourself kidnapped, royal brat," Tucker stated viciously.

--

TBC