by Pema Donyo
Still, the thoughts seemed too harsh to be reality. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself. “And have you fulfilled your mission, whatever it was?”
His embrace loosened. “Parineeta, they want me to return home. That’s what I need to talk to them about.”
Her voice trembled. “America?”
“They sent me a letter a few weeks ago instructing me to return as soon as possible. They knew my identity was going to be compromised.” He kissed the top of Parineeta’s forehead again. “Thank you for taking me this far to Lucknow.”
She stepped away. All the pieces started fitting together, slowly at first and then gaining speed. All the signs pointed to his ultimate abandonment. Her worst nightmare had somehow materialized. She’d fallen for a man who planned to leave her as soon as he found the nearest city.
“I would have never been able to reach this far had it not been for you. My mission here was to discover… Well, it was to discover whether or not there was anarchist activity among the revolutionaries. Your brother was the one I was supposed to watch.”
Her jaw dropped. “But he’s not…”
“An anarchist? I know now. I thought I’d have more time to investigate, but my branch has folded into the FBI and god knows where they’ll assign me next.” Warren ran a hand through his hair, the dark locks she loved so much now seeming dull in the mid-afternoon light. “To be honest, I’d nearly given up on learning anything at all until I spoke to you.”
“Was your mission successful?”
He held one hand against the railing, and the other hand held hers. “Thanks to you, it has been. Now I can report back to the officers in Lucknow and tell them that there is no need to worry about anarchist influence spreading from here to America.”
His words drenched her like ice water. He’d used her. He’d wanted her information; he’d wanted her connection to her brother. Not her, though. Never her.
She dropped his hand.
“Parineeta?” His voice was filled with worry. Was it even genuine, or deceiving like the rest of his words? “Where are you going?”
She gulped. “I think I need to sit back down.”
“All right, I’ll join you.”
“No.” She held up a hand. Tears started welling in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back. There was no way she would let him see her cry. It was her own fault for falling in love with a foreigner who had no intentions of staying. “You stay there and wait for their signal. Then tell me when to stop the train.”
She ignored his protests and walked back into the corridor, clicking the door shut behind her. She hurried to her seat and faced the window. The backs of her hands wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks in steady streams. He’d never revealed any intention of remaining with her beyond Lucknow. How could she have been so blind?
She tried to focus on the rolling hillside outside, on the sunshine and the sticky air and when the next monsoon rain would occur. She attempted to concentrate on future plans for the independence movement, on other armories to steal weapons from and other locations to rob for much needed funds.
But all her thoughts kept coming back to Warren.
• • •
Warren could see Dev’s and Bismil’s forms on the top of the train. He watched as they crouched across the roof of the metal compartment, inching along the top of the speeding locomotive. He waited for their sign.
Dev held Bismil’s legs as he leaned him over the railway guard’s carriage. Bismil’s upside-down body dangled over the ground, the velocity of the train swaying him back and forth. Warren held his breath as the man swung in front of the window for several seconds. At any moment, one of the soldiers might glance out the window, and the whole event could be called off. After what seemed like ages, he tapped Dev’s arm, and then Dev pulled him back up again.
Now they were discussing something with each other. A worried look crossed Dev’s features. That was strange. He expected Dev’s hand to raise in the air, giving him the approval to stop the train. But there was no signal.
Finally, Bismil made a slashing movement against his throat and shook his head in Warren’s direction. Warren nodded and mimicked the same slashing movement against his own throat to Bismil. So the robbery would not happen. There were probably too many British soldiers on guard in the compartment, protecting the money from the government treasury.
Parineeta’s “information” was that there would be few people on the train. His stomach tightened. He could imagine her crestfallen expression when she learned of the failed plan.
He pushed open the compartment door and marched back inside. Parineeta stood when he entered the carriage. Without waiting for him to speak, she yanked the emergency chain to stop the train.
“Stop!” Warren held onto the back of one of the leather seats for a better grip as the train lurched to a sudden halt. What was she doing? “Bismil called it off.”
She reached into the inside of her sari, drew out a gun, and tossed it to him. He barely caught it in time, and then she pulled out another revolver from her sari. “We’re not listening to him. It’s too late to stop now!”
She marched down the aisles with her gun in the air. Passengers screamed. He walked behind her, lifting his gun up as well.
“Do not be afraid! No Hindustani will be hurt!” Her cries did little to ease the startled passengers. She jumped out at the end of the compartment, and he followed after her. They tapped the carriage sides with their guns, the barrels rattling against the brown metal of the train compartments.
“Close your windows!” Warren yelled. “No one will be harmed. Close your windows!”
Bismil and Dev nearly ran into Parineeta from the other side. Bullets were already whizzing over their heads from where they’d stood on top of the compartment.
“Are you mad?” Dev seethed. He grabbed her, and both of them ducked when a fresh round of gunfire echoed from incoming British soldiers.
Warren wrenched Parineeta away. “Get your hands off of her!”
Raj jumped out from the compartment nearest to them. “Stop bickering! Lal and I will collect the cash. You keep off the soldiers.”
A bullet whizzed past Parineeta from Raj’s position, making direct contact with the stomach of a British soldier who’d snuck up behind her wielding a club. The guard groaned and dropped to the floor.
Raj and one of his friends headed to the guard’s cabin where the money bags from the British treasury were supposed to be. Dev scowled at Warren, but he backed away. All of them ducked at the fire from the guns coming from the other compartment.
Bullets zinged past Warren’s head and sank into the metal of the train compartments. He turned his body to shield Parineeta. But she was gone. She’d dashed to the other side, tapping her gun against the sides of the train and yelling for more passengers to close their windows.
“Dev! Behind you!” Warren knocked out the advancing British soldier, and Dev quickly shot him. Another bullet whizzed by his shoulder blade, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to bristle.
Warren pulled out his gun and took careful aim at the British soldiers. He ducked behind the door of a compartment as more bullets whizzed past him, missing him by mere inches. Where was Parineeta? Was she all right? He propelled himself from the other side of the compartment and stepped back onto the road.
The gunfire continued, but he couldn’t stay put any longer. He had to get to her. What did she think she was doing? The British soldiers were rushing toward her. She turned around every few yards to shoot behind her, just enough to keep them off her trail but not enough to prevent the distance between her and the soldiers from narrowing with each passing second.
Warren raced toward a compartment in front of her incoming path. He lifted himself into one of the open compartments and peered out from behind the metal shelter. As soon as she passed by his hiding spot, he pulled her in.
She gasped for breath in his arms, her gun still smoking. “Ammunition,” she w
heezed. “I’m running low on bullets. I need to reload.”
He groaned. There was no way he was letting her go out there again. “Who are you trying to kill, Parineeta?” he demanded, snatching the gun out of her hand.
She reached for it, but he held it up and away from her. She narrowed her eyes, unable to bring herself up to his height. “I am not going to kill anyone! I need to tell the passengers to close their windows.”
“I’m sure they will. You don’t need to fire a gun in the air in order to get their attention.” He wasn’t going to let her die out there. Still, he brought the gun back down, allowing her to grab it from his hands.
“It is my own decision if I choose to die for this fight.” Her chin tilted upward, in that defiant motion that both irritated and amused him at the same time.
“And I will not let that happen.” He wanted more than anything to take that gun out of her hands and keep her safe with him until the area outside the train was clear to leave. But he couldn’t control her. He gazed down at the rebellious woman, her plait nearly undone from her running and her cheeks flushed from excitement. She wouldn’t listen to him even if he tried. He loved that about her.
Love. The word shocked him. When had he ever admitted to loving a woman before? He frowned. Now is not the time to consider that. He scanned outside the compartment, pushing Parineeta behind him while he checked to make sure they could join the others.
Several soldiers passed by their compartment, and Warren reached out to fire his gun when she pushed his arm down. Her gaze implored him.
Of course. She’d told him before the robbery started that she didn’t want anyone killed. Still, easier said than done. Warren let the soldiers pass by them, praying that Dev and the others had already found a different hiding spot.
He peeked out again. From the end of the train, he could see Raj and a few other men dragging out the safe. The two struggled at first, but then other men joined them and succeeded in landing the safe on the ground. They started slamming their sledgehammers against the metal, trying to break open the container. On the other side of the train, the British soldiers were marching off in the other direction, looking for more rebels there. Thankfully, no one else seemed to be standing on that side. The coast was clear.
“It’s safe now.” He reached for Parineeta’s hand and turned back around. “They’re out there. We need to…”
His blood froze.
She stood before him, shaking in her sandals. A man in a British soldier’s uniform and a droopy mustache pressed the barrel of his gun against her forehead, a crazed look in his eyes. Warren swallowed hard. He recognized the soldier. This man had been one of his own troops while undercover at the fort.
The soldier cocked his head in the direction of a door leading to the next train compartment. “Got in while you were looking outside. All the men know about your treachery, General,” the man spat. His upper lip curled in disgust as he pressed the barrel against her head, harder.
She winced. Warren’s stomach plummeted.
“Put your gun down. She’s innocent.” He tried to keep his voice even, his gaze darting back and forth between his former soldier and his current love. “I said, put your gun down.”
The soldier’s whole hand shook, including his finger over the trigger. “You’re all brigands! You and your savage Indian gang of dacoits!”
“Not brigands. Revolutionaries.”
“Why stick your neck out for a little coolie?” The man took his pistol away from Parineeta and turned it toward Warren. The barrel was aimed directly at the middle of his forehead.
“She’s not a coolie.” All Warren could think about was landing his right fist across the hollow of the soldier’s cheek and watching his body wipe the floor clean.
“Then what is she?” The soldier sneered. He cocked the barrel of his revolver. “You going to marry her, General? You going to actually give this darkie the time of day?”
Warren tried not to look at her. If this was where he was to die, he couldn’t bear to see the look in her eyes when this man pulled the trigger. “She has a name. And your blood is no better than hers.”
“Ha! Then you deserve to…”
BANG!
Chapter Nine
The man’s eyes widened suddenly. He dropped his gun and, with a low groan, crumpled to the ground. His legs splayed out behind him, while a fresh wound oozed from the lower part of his back. Blood was everywhere, covering the walls of the compartment and splattering a red design on Warren’s beige shirt.
Parineeta’s eyes were wide, and her jaw had dropped, as if she was surprised at what had happened herself. The revolver she held in her hands was still shaking, from the force of a fatal bullet this time.
“Bhagwan.” Her hand shook. The revolver dropped from her hands and clattered to the floor. She gasped, holding her face in her hands. “What have I done? Oh, what have I done?”
He stepped around the man and pulled her into his arms. He shushed her, attempting to soothe her by running his hands over her wavy hair. She leaned her head against him, shuddering as the tears streamed down her cheeks and onto his kameez.
“I killed him, Warren, I killed him.” She chanted it over and over like a mantra, until she broke out into a fresh sob.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You had no other choice. He would have killed us otherwise.”
Parineeta then stood still, as if considering his words.
“You saved my life,” he whispered.
She looked up. The corners of her eyes were still wet with tears, but her gaze had refocused. Her tone became firm once more. “And you were willing to save mine.”
“Guess we’re even now.” His heart constricted in his chest at the petite girl in his arms. She was stronger than he ever knew was possible. He dipped his head toward hers, edging closer to her lips.
Ashfaqulla appeared in the entrance of the doorway. He held no guns, only a crowbar he’d managed to acquire somewhere. “Raj has the money. We need to go, now!”
Warren stepped away from Parineeta, even as Ashfaqulla sped away from them. He rubbed the back of his neck, and she coughed. His eyes darted from the metal walls of the compartment behind her to her arms folded over her chest. Her shoulders slumped forward, but a smile remained on her features.
Raj waited outside in a clearing, along with the others. Her brother and several other men carried sacks over their shoulders, which jingled with coins as they ran away from the train. Several men had bundled the money in old rugs.
“Inquilab zindabad!” Raj chanted as they fled.
The others chanted after him. The daylight had faded into the darker shades of evening, but Warren still saw the triumphant expressions of each of the men.
A grin spread out across his own face. Inquilab zindabad—Long live the revolution.
He grabbed Parineeta’s hand. She looked up sharply then toward the direction of the others. He felt her grip relax in his hand when she realized no one had seen them.
The men ran slightly ahead of them, whooping for joy as they carried away their loot. Some of the men swung the bags at their sides, while others placed them over their shoulders. A kind of fever had swept over the whole group, consuming in its power and addictive in its rush as the unison chant formed a song in his soul. He felt the revolutionary spirit thrumming through his body, coursing through his veins.
She squeezed his hand, and the two of them chanted together. “Inquilab zindabad! Inquilab zindabad!”
• • •
They’d continued their journey for several hours before they stopped for a break. The men convinced Warren to help them distribute the sacks and rugs of money before they carried them into Lucknow.
Raj set his bag down, and his friends set about reallocating the funds into different sacks. Ashfaqulla knew of a safe house waiting for them in Lucknow; they could store the loot there and rest for the night.
Parineeta intended to help them until her brother stepped in front
of her. Both of his hands were thrust into the length of his pockets, and his gaze considered her beneath arched brows.
She gulped. “Hello, Raj.”
“I am starting to wonder why you helped this American.” He spoke with slow deliberation, as if each word had a separate purpose.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. “I already told you. Once we reach Lucknow, he will tell me of how the British view our Hindustan Republican Association. He said he will tell me any information I ask of him.”
“And then?”
Parineeta felt the pointed edge of her brother’s question. The two words stung more than salt sprinkled over a fresh wound. She knew what he was implying, yet she remained silent. How was she supposed to answer a question she didn’t even dare ask herself?
“I said, what happens after he gives you the information?”
She swallowed hard. “He can do whatever he wishes.”
“You want him to stay.” It was a statement, not a question. Her brother searched her gaze. She had no doubt he would find the answer he’d already suspected. “You’re hoping he decides to stay with us.”
“He has no reason to.” She felt a lump rise in her throat. In all likelihood Warren would leave, travel back to America, and serve another mission somewhere else in the world.
“You could ask him to stay.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Beg? Never.” She could not implore him to stay with her, not the same way she’d heard her mother had begged of her father. Even the possibility of it made her toes curl within her sandals. She may have lost her heart, but she wasn’t going to lose her dignity.
“No one said anything about begging, didi.” Raj sighed.
“Mother begged. Look what good it did her.” She hadn’t wanted her tone to sound so bitter, yet the callousness was unmistakable. “I swore to myself I would never be in her position.”
“Warren and your father are not the same person. Mother made mistakes, but she was never afraid of love.”