“The only problem,” said Qi. “Is that the brother knows what we look like.”
“Oh, I got that covered,” said Fanning. Qi did not like the grin on her face.
* * * * *
Mrs Ruane had not offered more than a token protest when Fanning told her to dye her hair and darken her face. They dressed her in a men’s salwar kameez and, with a dagger in her belt, she looked reasonably male apart from her bust. She and Qi went into one of the animal stalls and suppressed her proportions with some turns of cloth. She would not pass a detailed examination, but that shouldn’t be required.
With a change of clothes Fanning passed for a servant, which meant no one would look at her, while Otto was outfitted in a slightly ill-fitting salwar kameez and had his skin darkened as well. He kept pulling at the cloth trying to get comfortable.
“Would it not have been better to choose Herr Montgomery or Darras, captain? This Kehal has seen me.”
Qi considered telling the truth—he was the most expendable—but that would have been cruel. “On balance you were the best choice. Ichiro cannot hear, Darras cannot shoot well and Montgomery cannot fight.”
Mrs Ruane helped Qi into a sari. It felt very odd; she could not remember the last time she had worn women’s clothing. Still her skin tone was good and as long as she kept her face down people probably would not notice her Chinese features. She managed to conceal a knife and gun under the extensive folds.
She sent Fanning out to acquire a cart and driver.
And within half an hour they arrived outside the opulent and extensive home of Opinder Jandoo where perhaps a hundred people waiting to enter.
xix
There were armed guards at the door but their examination of those entering was cursory at best. It was difficult to maintain close attention for long periods of time. They seemed mostly concerned with keeping out the beggars, who were directed around to the side where they were being fed.
Qi and her party got through the gates and followed the crowd into the central courtyard. There were more guards, their guns conspicuous at their sides, located at the entrance. Once she was inside, Qi saw still more guards up on the balcony.
Opinder Jandoo must do very well for himself, thought Qi as she looked around. The courtyard was flagged in a black stone she did not recognise. Plants and trees in pots had been situated to break up the open space and allow for groups to form.
There were no obvious routes up to the balcony, which was stone with painted wooden railings. A few clouds dotted the blue of the sky.
A waiter came around with a tray of fruit drinks. Qi took the one that looked like orange juice. She tasted it and felt the tang of lime following the initial hit of orange. She checked her gun and knife.
The air was filled with the sound of people laughing and talking while musicians played in the background. This did not seem like a normal wedding as far as she understood Indian weddings. The ceremony took hours and nothing appeared to be happening.
“Where is Dhavni?” Mrs Ruane was trying to keep the pitch of her voice low to make it sound male. Qi did not think it was very effective, but in the general hubbub no one noticed. Qi looked around. She would have thought that Mrs Ruane would be able to see more clearly since she was taller, but perhaps she was distracted.
“They should be in the main building,” said Qi. “They won’t have the wedding out here.”
The disguised party moved through the throng, squeezing between groups in deep discussion, others laughing uproariously, and the occasional doe-eyed youngsters eyeing each other across an empty space.
On the far side of the courtyard from the main entrance was a pair of double-doors with a pair of more efficient-looking guards. They had guns and swords, and beneath their turbans their eyes watched everyone who came near.
Qi turned her back on them and the others drew round her. Qi pulled out her watch and glanced at the time. It would be sundown very soon. Looking up she saw the sky darkening; the sun had left the mountain tops in the east. She noticed several servants lighting lamps around the courtyard, and whispered in Fanning’s ear. With a smile Fanning headed off.
“Head towards the bigger guard,” Qi said to Mrs Ruane. “I’ll follow behind like a dutiful wife. When you get close I’ll do the rest.”
“What is it I should do?” asked Otto in a low voice.
“Walk beside Mrs Ruane. Be ready to go inside.”
A man walked past and looked at Qi. She remembered just before it became awkward that she shouldn’t look him in the face.
“When will I know the correct time?”
“You’ll know,” snapped Qi. She saw Fanning intercepting one of the lamplighters.
“Go, Kathleen. Now.”
Mrs Ruane’s long strides carried her towards the guard so quickly that both Otto and Qi had to half-run to keep up with her. Even so, Qi was careful to remain a few steps behind.
There was a shout from behind them, a shout of anger turned to fear. And every person in the courtyard seemed to hold their breath and look. The guard, too, was looking past them.
Then there were more shouts, warnings of danger. Mrs Ruane came to a stop beside the guard, who did not notice as Qi closed in on him, rummaging beneath her clothing for the knife.
“Namaste,” she said. He looked down at her in confusion. She placed the steel of the blade between his legs. “Do you speak English? Just nod if you do.”
He opened his mouth to speak and she jammed the knife a little harder into his groin. This seemed to activate his memory and he just nodded. Qi relieved him of his gun and sword, dropping them to the floor behind a potted plant.
“Very good. We are not here to hurt anyone, just to collect something that belongs to us. Do you understand?”
He nodded. His attention was fixed on Qi and the blade.
Otto had pulled out his gun and moved to the door.
“You will escort us inside. My friends have guns, as do I. If you raise the alarm I will shoot you.”
He nodded. The noise from the people in the courtyard was increasing in volume: shouts of terror, screams, running sandals slapping on the stones.
“Very good,” she said. “You go first.”
With everything under control Qi glanced round. A blaze engulfed the eastern wall, consuming the stalls, tables and food that had been laid out. The light fabrics across the windows on the ground and upper floors were erupting into flame and floating off, setting fire to anything flammable they touched.
Fanning came trotting up.
“I said a small fire,” said Qi.
“You can’t have too much of a good thing,” said Fanning. “Besides, I didn’t expect the place to go up like Fourth of July rockets.” She wandered up to the door where Otto had his gun trained on the guard. “Shall we enter, Captain?”
At that moment the door was thrown back from the inside and a crowd of people fled the building. The guard went for Otto’s gun by grabbing at his arm. Qi kicked the back of his knee, forcing him down and off-balance, then threw her weight against his shoulder and slammed his head into the wall.
He slumped to the ground.
“Come on,” she said as the others stared at her.
The initial rush of wedding guests had petered out and they pushed past the stragglers into a large well-appointed room. The floor was of herringbone wood up from which jutted carved wooden pillars. The walls were brightly painted with depictions of—Qi blushed and put her attention on the group that remained.
She recognised Kehal and Dhavni, and she assumed the large older man to be Opinder Jandoo. He was arguing with another man who was standing behind a large table with a thick sheaf of papers.
There were three guards, each armed with a gun and a sword.
“Kathleen!” Dhavni’s voice echoed round the room and Jandoo’s remonstrations ceased as he saw the newcomers.
Qi stepped forward and pulled the sari back from her head. She held the sword loosely in her left hand and the
gun in her right.
“Who are you?” said Jandoo in good English.
“I have no argument with you, Opinder Jandoo,” said Qi. “I am Captain Qi Zang. I come only to take back those things that are not Kehal Chabak’s to give.”
The guards moved in a few steps.
“And what are those things, woman?” He sounded amused, which gave Qi the sinking feeling that they might have to fight.
“Dhavni Chabak and the money Kehal acquired by deceit.”
Behind him the man finished gathering up the papers and backed away from the group.
Jandoo shrugged. “The girl is betrothed to me, the money is my dowry.”
“Not all of it,” said Kehal like a child. Jandoo looked at him and made a movement with his hand. A single shot shattered the air. Kehal looked surprised. He wavered for a moment and then sank to his knees. He would have fallen to the floor but his sister knelt beside him, holding him by the shoulders.
Qi glanced at her associates. Otto might have gone pale beneath the blacking, and his hand was at his mouth. Mrs Ruane had not moved and the gun was firm in her hand. Fanning was—nowhere to be seen.
Kehal slipped to the floor, dragging Dhavni down with him.
“He is no loss,” said Jandoo. “And now I shall have all the money as dowry.”
The smell of smoke drifted in. Jandoo frowned and looked past the intruders. “What have you done?”
“The money, Jandoo, or we will all burn,” said Qi.
The man laughed and grabbed Dhavni by her upper arm, yanking her to her feet. “There are other ways out, woman.” He glanced around and picked out the man with the book. “Bring the Sri Guru Granth Sahib, we will do this outside.”
“You have the money, just leave the girl,” shouted Mrs Ruane taking several steps forward.
Jandoo paused. “So that’s what this is about? Another suitor?” Then he stopped and beneath the fading light through the sky lights he peered at her.
“Another woman?” He roared with laughter. Dhavni squirmed in his grip, grabbed the ceremonial knife from his waistband and pushed it hard into his stomach.
“Up here!” Fanning’s voice echoed through the room over the increasing snapping and roaring of burning wood. Qi looked up and saw Fanning on a balcony. The guard they had caught looked at her. She nodded. “Get out of here, and take your friends.”
He took off fast for a big man, towards a door in the back. Jandoo reached out to him with hands anointed in his own blood, and said something Qi could not make out. The guard spat at him and ran on.
Jandoo fell to his knees, the front of his ceremonial clothes soaked with glistening red.
The heat from the flames now licking the inside of the hall pressed against Qi’s back.
“Come on!” shouted Fanning. “The stairs.” She pointed to the side of the hall where steps led upwards. Qi looked back and saw Mrs Ruane with Dhavni, hugging her.
“Captain, look,” said Otto. He was pointing up. She followed his line and saw a shadow drifting across the skylight. Beauty.
“Go help Fanning and the ship. We’ll be following.”
As Otto ran off, Qi strode over to the embracing couple. They were oblivious to her. She glanced down at Jandoo. He wasn’t dead yet but was deflating like a punctured balloon.
She turned back to Kathleen and Dhavni, and cleared her throat. “You can do that on the ship. Time to go.” She picked up the bag with the money and headed for the stairs.
xx
“I should arrest you, Captain Zang.”
“To what end, Captain Reynolds?”
“My personal satisfaction in repairing my damaged pride.”
“I would have thought being instrumental in taking down a major criminal would satisfy that desire quite thoroughly.”
Reynolds sighed. “It does.”
The Frozen Beauty had squeezed onto the back lawn of the Ruane estate on the morning of the following day, crushing the croquet hoops. They had been instantly surrounded by Captain Reynolds and his troops, who had returned as soon as the deception had been revealed and his scouts had found the dead bandits.
Captain Reynolds watched as Mrs Ruane and her paramour disappeared into the building. He shook his head. None of the other crew had disembarked but Qi had related the sequence of events.
He thrust out his hand which Qi shook. “I hope you have clear skies, Captain Zang.”
Qi gave him a bow of respect then turned and climbed the ladder to the top deck. She gave him a short wave and disappeared from sight.
Captain Reynolds took a few steps back as the klaxon in the ship sounded three times. Butterfly wings stroked across his skin as the Faraday engaged.
The Frozen Beauty seemed to take a breath, then fell into the sky.
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~ end ~
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Read the next exciting story in the series:
FROZEN BEAUTY: DR MORBURY’S CARGO
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Get it from your favourite website: http://bit.ly/frozen-beauty-03
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About the Author
When he's not sitting at his computer building websites for national institutions and international companies, Steve Turnbull can be found sitting at his computer building new worlds of steampunk, science fiction and fantasy.
Technically Steve was born a cockney but after five years he was moved out from London to the suburbs where he grew up and he talks posh now. He's been a voracious reader of science fiction and fantasy since his early years, but it was poet Laurie Lee's autobiography "Cider with Rosie" (picked up because he was bored in Maths) that taught him the beauty of language and spurred him into becoming a writer, aged 15. He spent twenty years editing and writing for computer magazines while writing poetry on the side.
Nowadays he writes screenplays (TV and features), prose and code.
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