“ALEX, don’t!” Max shouted.
But his cousin had pounded through the door and was lunging for Rudolph. As the big guy turned, Alex caught him off-balance, and he fell.
With a quick, graceful move, Fix managed to slide the string bag off the bigger man’s beefy shoulders. He clutched the bag tight to his chest. “Don’t you think dear Rudolph has had enough physical trauma?”
“You haven’t,” Alex said, balling her fists. “But we can change that. Give us the bag. I know what’s in it.”
“I quiver with fear,” Fix replied.
“That’s a lie!” Max shouted. “Unless you’re being sarcastic.”
Fix gave him an odd look. “Yes, you’re right, dear boy. I’m not quivering, because I’m quite happy to see you. And very grateful to receive such a precious gift to humanity. You will benefit someday, I promise.”
Rudolph stood and grabbed Alex by the front of her shirt collar. “I would love to heave-ho both of these pains in the—”
“Manners, Rudolph, manners,” Fix said. “These are children, and children are the planet’s great hope.”
Alex swatted aside Rudolph’s arm. “Brush your teeth, Hagrid, your breath is like day-old roadkill,” Alex said. “As for you, Mr. Fix-It, I don’t know how you guys found us, or how you got on this ship—”
“Fix is the name,” the silver-haired man said. “A nickname, I should say. To the world I am known as Spencer Niemand. Yes, I am head of Niemand Enterprises, the number-one global company forging a dynamic synergy between telecommunications, exploration, shipping, and environmental innovation. In person.”
Alex and Max stared at him blankly. “Never heard of you,” Max said.
“Suffice it to say we have eyes and ears,” Niemand snapped. “Plus ample private aircraft and ground transport—and more than enough financial resources for a last-minute cruise ticket. Although I admit we almost lost you after the parking garage.” He chuckled. “Kudos on a very clever move with that luggage. Don’t you agree, Rudolph?”
Rudolph scowled at Alex. “I did brush my teeth.”
Max could see her coiling to lunge at him again. That, he knew, would not work. He held her back with one hand and reached out the other to Niemand. “You can keep the string bag, but give us what’s inside. It belongs to us, and you’re stealing.”
“And what will you do if we don’t return it—report us to security?” Niemand smiled. “How do you suppose that will work for you?”
Alex’s teeth were gritted, her eyes intense. “Give. Us. That. Booklet.”
“Maybe you can tell us what it says,” Niemand replied. “That would save us a lot of time and expense. Neither Rudolph nor I read French. We could all form a big, happy team.”
“As if,” Alex said, shaking her head.
“I take that as a no,” Niemand said.
He held the string bag over his head, swung it out over the side of the ship, and dropped it.
Max screamed and ran to the railing. But Alex stood there, staring at Niemand in disbelief. “Th-that made no sense! You just shot yourself in the foot, fool.”
“Alex—” Max said.
Alex laughed. “Let it sink, Max,” she said. “We already know what it says. But they—”
“Alex!”
Max pulled her to the railing and made her look over. Below them was a sleek silver-and-black cigarette boat. On it, a man dressed in a black uniform was placing the string bag into a chest. He revved the engine and glanced behind him.
Alex spun around. “Max, Niemand and Rudolph are gone!”
Over Max’s shoulder, he saw the door swinging slowly shut. He could hear the clatter of footfalls in a nearby stairwell.
“We can’t catch them,” Max said.
“We’ll have to jump,” Alex replied, putting one leg on the railing. Below them, Niemand and Rudolph burst through a door exactly one level down, ran to the railing and leaped over, one after the other.
Niemand landed smoothly with help from the uniformed man. Rudolph missed entirely and had to be quickly helped into the cigarette boat.
“It’s too dangerous,” Max said, pulling her back.
“They have the message!” Alex pleaded. “They’ll figure it out. You read what Jules Verne said. He hid the fortune to keep it away from bad guys.”
“Bad guys from the eighteen hundreds,” Max said.
“Niemand and his BFF have been looking for this forever,” Alex said. “They smoked out my craigslist post and came all the way to your house. They nearly killed us and chased us to New York City. And they bought at least fourteen thousand dollars of cruise tickets and hired a speedboat just to steal it. Do you think it’s just possible that they’re somehow connected to Verne’s bad guys?”
“When you put it that way . . .”
Max was eyeing the lifeboat that hung overhead. It was attached by two strong ropes to a winch. The winch had two pulleys that were operated by a crank at the level below, where Niemand had just been. But that crank was protected by a thick padlock.
The cigarette boat was turning away from the ship now, picking up speed. Max knew they had to get down there. Now.
He bolted for the door behind them.
“Where are you going?” Alex cried out.
“Follow me.”
Max darted down the hallway, pushed through the exit door, and rushed down to the level below. The cigarette boat was headed for the horizon as Max unhooked his backpack from his shoulders, opened it, and dug his hands in.
Alex stared mutely as he pulled out a pocketknife and began cutting through the rope that held the lifeboat above them.
As the rope severed, the port side of the boat abruptly fell. Minutes later Max worked through the starboard rope, and the boat crashed into the water, barely missing the keel of the cruise ship.
“Jump,” Max said, throwing his backpack over his shoulder again. “And don’t say no. I need you. I don’t know how to work one of these boats.”
“Wait—neither do I!”
Max climbed over the railing and fell onto the deck of the lifeboat. He stood and reached up for Alex.
As she jumped in beside him, Max cried out, “Hurry!”
“Me hurry?” She glanced with panic at the outboard engine and pointed to a wooden knob at the top. “OK. OK. We can do this. I—I think that’s a cord. And you pull it. Like a lawn mower.”
Max yanked on the cord once . . . twice . . . but the engine groaned and sputtered.
“Let me try.” Alex took the knob, gritted her teeth, and yanked it as hard as she could.
The motor sputtered to life. Alex jumped back. With a solid thunk, the boat crashed into the side of the SS Sibelius, leaving an ugly dent.
“Can you straighten it out?” Max said.
“I’m trying!” Alex yanked the tiller to the left and eased up on the throttle. The boat spun slowly and soon faced out to sea.
Up on the deck, Mr. Robles burst from the exit. His face reddened at the sight of Alex and Max, and he began screaming into a walkie-talkie.
“Now what?” Max demanded.
Alex held tight and pointed them in the direction of the cigarette boat, which was now a dot on the horizon. “Sit down, cousin. And pray.”