Beauty Queens Part 34

"I'm not sure I'm following. And it's 'The Board and I.' Me is objective case."

With tweezers, Ladybird added tiny sequins to the wet paint on the i in Ladybird. "MoMo B. ChaCha is a threat. Cost a.n.a.lysis of the pros and cons of the situation indicates that we need to eradicate the complications arising from the instability of the appearance of the girls on the island and strategize turnkey applications for phasing out less profitable product lines across all platforms."

Agent Jones took a moment to digest this. "You want me to kill The Peac.o.c.k."

Ladybird continued her ministrations on the gun. "What we need to do is maximize the global content of our security infrastructure by curtailing non-dividend-paying future living possibilities through strategic planning initiatives at the weaponized level while strategizing turnkey profitability of the Republic of ChaCha through the implementation of dynamic platforms that will drive market share, synergize global objectives, and maximize global content."

"So ... kill." Agent Jones made a gun motion with his thumb and forefinger.

"In a manner of speaking." Ladybird sipped coffee through a straw. "What if we could catch MoMo in an act so heinous, so terrible, that the entire world would be on our side? We'd be justified in killing him. The world would thank us for doing its dirty work - and for marching right into his backward country and setting up a democracy. Along with lots and lots of cute shops."

"MoMo's already racked up a pretty impressive list of atrocities. What could you possibly nail him for that would be so effective?"

Ladybird managed a small smile. "Killing a bunch of teen beauty queens on live TV oughta do it, doncha think?"

Agent Jones had staged a.s.sa.s.sinations and coups. He'd taken out KGB agents and lowlife informants and still managed to sleep at night. Sacrifices had to be made for national security. But this wasn't about security; it was about profitability, the country as corporation. It almost made him nostalgic for the Cold War.

He cleared his throat. "How will we manage that?"

"It's time to bring the girls in. I'll announce the rescue on Barry Rex Live. We'll have a surprise for the public. Imagine: staging the Miss Teen Dream Pageant right there on the island! It'll be a ratings bonanza! Then, just before the crowning of the new Miss Teen Dream, MoMo's guards will leap out with their shiny new guns and kill the girls."

"How are you going to get MoMo to do that?"

"Silly. MoMo's guards won't actually do it. It'll be Corporation black shirts dressed up like Republic of ChaCha soldiers. MoMo will die in the resulting bloodbath. The world will see it live on TV, and once it's on TV, it's true. I promised The Corporation ratings, and I will deliver. With the world's outrage on our side, we will march into the ROC to stabilize the country. The whole operation will be contracted out to The Corporation. Oh, and I am seeing huge merchandising opportunities with this. What do you think of T-shirts that say ROC and Roll?"

"That is quite possibly the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard."

Ladybird Hope c.o.c.ked her head and smiled. "Well, thank you, Agent Jones. It's sweet of you to say so."

When Agent Jones was eleven, his dad had called him into the front room and explained that there comes a time in every person's life when a choice defines him.

"Remember that," he'd said. He was wearing the clown suit and full makeup. Since he'd been laid off eighteen months earlier, it was his only source of income.

"Yes, sir," Agent Jones had said. He was Bobby Jones then.

Then his dad laced up the multicolored shoes, put on the red felt nose, squeaked his bike horn, and drove away to make balloon animals at a six-year-old's birthday party. Afterward, he stopped off at Tom's Bar for four boilermakers and wrapped his sedan around a tree. The paper used a photo from the party for his obituary. The last image Agent Jones would ever have of his father was of a defeated man in a red nose holding a balloon animal.

That image came back to him now as he stood with the requisition form for coffee in one hand and the form for early retirement in the other. He could opt out. It would mean he'd never hit the top, never hit that sweet spot in his career that inspired envy and respect from other men. On the other hand, somebody else would have to be in charge of killing the beauty queens.

Harris sauntered over, scratching his belly. "Hey, dude. So. Hear they're cutting back on the pension plan. Sucks. Check this, though: I've been fast-tracked for management. Made a PowerPoint about how awesome I am and my idea about a show where contestants literally have to eat one another to survive? The suits loved it! I could just be your boss soon. Filling out another form for Hazelnut, huh? I hear the twentieth time's the charm." Harris overfilled his cup, spilling coffee on the counter, which he did not clean up. On the way back to his desk, he slapped hands with one of the black shirts. "Bros before hos!" he said, laughing.

Agent Jones tore up the early retirement form.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

Not all men were like Duff and Billy and Jacques-Paul. Mary Lou knew this. Her father was kind and sure of her. He let her ride the combine with him and taught her to use the controls just like he'd done with her brothers. And there was Tane. Where was he? He'd promised to come back. Adina would get all cynical, say, "What did you expect?" But Mary Lou had smelled his scent, had examined his good hands. She knew Tane was a man of his word, and the fact that he hadn't come back worried her. What if her prince was in some sort of trouble? What if he needed her help?

Mary Lou had had enough of waiting and wondering. It was time to take action. While the others were sleeping, she crept from her hut. Petra woke momentarily from where she lay cuddled next to Sinjin. His arm was still wrapped around her, and Mary Lou was happy that Petra had found someone, too.

"Wh-where you going, Nebraska?"

"Off to find my prince," Mary Lou answered.

"That's nice. Very romantic." Petra mumbled. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

Mary Lou ran into the jungle as she had many times before. She kept low to the ground, inhaling, searching for Tane's scent, her wild-girl senses alert. She pa.s.sed Taylor's lair deep in the jungle. A small fire crackled, casting long shadows across the towering form of Miss Miss. The sculpture seemed alive. Taylor stepped out from behind it and Mary Lou saw that she had an AK-47.

"Hey, Taylor. Where did you get that gun?"

"A Miss Teen Dream must be prepared at all times," Taylor answered in a hollow voice.

A trickle of sweat dripped down the front of Mary Lou's neck. "Have you seen my prince? He's about so tall with long black hair and tattoos on his shoulders. His name is Tane?"

Taylor rested the gun lengthwise at the back of her neck and let her arms drape over it in front. "What would you do if you faced a grave threat, Miss Nebraska?"

"What do you mean?"

"Miss Nebraska, you are not prepared for this pageant."

Mary Lou glanced nervously toward the jungle on the other side of Taylor. "I need to find Tane."

Taylor stepped aside. Mary Lou had almost pa.s.sed when she heard Taylor whispering, "Lies. All lies. Careful."

And then Mary Lou was running. She was so spooked that she nearly missed the backpack. There it was in the bushes: Tane Ngata. Department of Ornithology. Heart beating fast, Mary Lou shouldered it and set off after her prince with renewed determination. His scent was strong now. She followed it in the direction of the volcano. When she got close, she saw a flash of white light at the top of the volcano, like a signaling tower of some sort. Shadowy figures led a shackled, hooded man. She spied the tattoo on his shoulder. Tane! Keeping low, she crept along the bush line.

A man ripped the hood from Tane's head. The man wore sungla.s.ses even though it was night. "What are you doing here? Who are you working for?"

"I told you, mate. I'm just an ornithologist on a research trip."

"Ornithologist my a.s.s. Put him in solitary."

The others dragged him - dragged her Tane! - toward the volcano. She watched, astonished, as they flipped up a panel in the rock and entered a code and a door slid open, revealing another world inside. She had to warn the others. She had to rescue Tane. She needed to get away from here right away.

She turned to run and heard the click of the gun pressed to her temple.

Sinjin watched Petra sleep for some time, weighing his options. Finally, he woke the others and had them meet up by the ship.

"What's up, Cap'n?" Ahmed asked, wiping sleep from his eyes.

Still in Petra's bathrobe, Sinjin paced on the narrow strip of sand. "Lads, something's a bit dodgy here. That black shirt couldn't be a coincidence. He must've followed us here."

"How? We rubbished the radio."

"Don't know. But you can't deny that body was one of them. And if they've found us, the ladies are in trouble as well."

"Cor," George said, shaking his head. "What we gonna do?"

Sinjin cast a glance toward the camp where the girls still slept. "We've got to leave. Now."

"We can't just leave the girls here without so much as a 'ta for the grubs,'" Ahmed insisted. "They'll think we're absolute w.a.n.kers."

"Better that than we put them in danger, yeah?"

The pirates fell into hushed argument.

"We don't even know if the ship'll hold, Captain," Duff said.

"Well, we'll just have to suck it and see, mate. We'll find land and rustle up help."

Ahmed rubbed at his chin. "What if this is a trap? What if it's what they expect us to do?"

"Only one way to find out," Sinjin said. "Look, are we naff reality-TV, fake rock-star pirates, or are we something more? Time to be n.o.ble, lads. Who's with me?"

"Aye," they whispered in unison.

They took just enough provisions to last a few days, then the pirates pulled up anchor and pushed the boat quietly into the deeper water. In the moonlight, the beach where the girls still slept was a series of undulating curves.

"I hope they'll be all right," Sinjin said. '"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done.'44 Take care, Petra."

"Captain?" Ahmed asked. The men looked to him for orders.

"Hands on oars," he commanded.

The pirates bent over their paddles, rowing in rhythm until they were a safe distance from the island. They hoisted the sails and headed out to sea.

In the sheltering canopy of a giant tree, Harris used his binoculars to watch them go. Good. They'd taken the bait. He'd left them a little present on the boat, a bomb made from Lady 'Stache Off. Once they were farther out to sea, he'd detonate it using his phone. Jonesy might not have told him about the pirates, but Harris knew. He didn't need Agent Jones telling him what to do. Everyone misunder-estimated Harris Buffington Ewell Davis III. He snickered, thinking about how he'd set this up by himself. Now The Corporation would have to see that he was a player. CEO by the time he was thirty? Shoot, he'd be running the ROC before he was twenty-five.

44Play the A Tale of Two Cities head-lopping game, available as a Corporation Phone app. Void where prohibited in states where the school board has banned A Tale of Two Cities because Charles d.i.c.kens is clearly a p.o.r.nographic name.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

Nicole woke with a feeling of unease she could not shake, though she couldn't say why. Perhaps it was left over from her dream in which an unseen monster made its way toward her small fishing village in j.a.pan, and she was expected to do battle with it. She left the hut and made her way to the beach, where she realized that something really was wrong. The pirate ship was missing. So were the pirates. So, too, were the girls' stores of rainwater and smoked fish.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!" Adina growled. The girls had a.s.sembled in their horseshoe formation.

"And after all we did for them," Miss Ohio said.

"We fixed their freaking ship!" Jen kicked at a tree. A coconut dropped dangerously close to her head.

"I got their computer up and running," Shanti added.

"I let Sinjin have my best heels," Petra said. She wanted to cry, but she was too angry. She looked around, counting. "Hey, anybody seen Mary Lou this morning?"

They searched the camp, the lagoon, the fishing lines, the jetty, everywhere they could think to look. Mary Lou was nowhere to be seen.

"Do you think she went with the pirates? Or maybe they kidnapped her and held her for her booty."

"Booty is treasure, Tiara."

"Oh. Noted."

"She said she was going off into the jungle to search for her prince," Petra said.

"Great. Swell," Adina growled. "Stupid romantic fantasies can get a girl killed."

"That's just being bitter," Petra said.

"Yeah? Your BF just sailed away with our food, water, and your best shoes, Petra!"

Petra winced. "Harsh. I have faith in Sinjin. He'll send help."

"Oh my G.o.d. You guys just don't get it, do you? We got hosed! We got all moony-eyed over a bunch of pirates and let everything go just to take care of them. Even on an island in the middle of nowhere, we can't seem to change the dynamic. Pathetic."

Jennifer raised her hand. "Exception to the rule."

"You've got your own distractions." Adina jerked her head toward Sosie, and Jennifer blushed. "Now, listen up. It's your team leader, Miss New Hampshire, speaking. Here's the plan: Pack whatever you've got. We are going to march into that jungle to find Mary Lou, and then we are going to bring Taylor back, and then we are going to build our own freaking ship or rocket or Sparkle Pony from h.e.l.l and get the h.e.l.l off this island! Screw this waiting around. No one is coming. It's up to us. But we are not leaving without our friends."

The girls armed themselves with sticks and small rocks, curling irons and bottles of tanner.

Petra brought along a can of hair spray. "Anybody or anything messes with me and they will get a face full of chemical nasty that will stick their eyes open for weeks."

They set off into the dense growth, and they weren't coming out until the job was done.

They came upon the Empire of Taylor. It was like a forgotten hermitage - the cave hidden beneath the growth, the strange fertility G.o.ddess statue of Our Ladybird with her tattered Miss Miss sash in place. But it was well camouflaged, as if it had long been part of the island. As if Taylor were hiding in plain sight.

Taylor had built another weird sculpture. This one looked a lot like a catapult. She opened a jar of Lady 'Stache Off and emptied the contents inside, adding the bleach from the girls' teeth-bleaching trays.

"Hey, Taylor. What're you doing?" Adina called.

"Getting ready for the pageant. It's very important, Ladybird."

"Have you seen Mary Lou at all?"

Taylor c.o.c.ked her head to one side as if listening to music only she could hear. "Five-six-seven-eight. And step-ball-change!" Taylor launched into a series of dance moves punctuated by ninjalike kicks and strikes. "Don't believe their lies, Sparkle Ponies. They don't want to save us."

Taylor shimmied up a tree, swung to another, and disappeared in the unkempt green canopy overhead.