ASHES OF THE RAVEN
By
Egypt and Wallaby
Chapter 10
Mamushi stood under the hot water and breathed a pleased sigh of relief. The blood had finally been washed down the drain, and the heat from the water had taken care of the chill that had settled into her skin during the interrogation. She had told the cops her story twice, the first time during which the meds had sewn up her arm. She had gotten six stitches and they had given her some pain meds. She wouldn't take them though, just because they would dull her senses just as much as they did her pain.
Once the meds had finished the Cops had tried to get her story from her again but she had clammed up, using her training to ignore their jabs at her as well as their attempts to intimidate her. They had nothing, she knew that, and knew that what she had told them would be proven when the forensics came in. Still, they were reluctant to let her and Bruce go, so much so that once they finally did Bruce went straight to the American Embassy and requested they spend the night there. Seeing that both he and Mamushi were American citizens the request was granted, albeit grudgingly. It seemed that there was a party going on and most of the rooms were occupied for the night. They had managed to find a single room with a queen sized bed, but that was it. Mamushi was not complaining though. She would sleep better here than she would have at any hotel.
She heaved another sigh and reached down to turn off the water, allowing her body to drip dry for a few moments before she pushed back the shower curtain and grabbed a towel. She dried herself off and retrieved the nightgown she had bought for herself on their earlier shopping trip. The cops had allowed them to take the items with them only after confirming that there was nothing of importance either in or on them.
Mamushi slipped the black silk, floor length nightgown over her head and straightened the small straps on her shoulders. Not the most appropriate thing to wear to bed given the current situation, but it was better than nothing. She took a few seconds to towel dry her hair and then put on the matching robe that came with the nightgown. Satisfied that she had done all she could at the moment she hung the towel on the shower rod and picked up the small dagger from the sink before leaving the bathroom.
As she entered the bedroom she laid the dagger down on the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to the window. She wasn't sure which side she was going to sleep on but she was not about to put an unsheathed dagger in the pocket of her robe. The blade was only three inches long but that was long enough to cut a hole in the pocket. She realized that she didn't care if Bruce knew she had it, which was a strange thing. Usually she went out of her way to make sure no one knew she was armed. So much so that the small, simple blade had a permanent home between her breasts. Each of her bras had been modified to hide the small thing in such a way that no one would know it was there and to look at the bra without it you would never notice where it went. It was not long enough to kill, but long enough to cause damage and make someone think twice before they tried anything.
After setting the dagger on the bedside table she moved over to the small setting area near the window and began working on her hair, combing it as she did every night before bed.
Bruce sat at the desk working on the laptop Mamushi had picked up for him. There wasn't a lot he could do, without access to his records, but he was able to monitor the news and contact the other principles of the meeting that was to take place tomorrow. Without going into too much detail, he let them know the conference was going to be delayed, and set a tentative date to reconvene it. He stipulated the meeting would be in the US and explained that Wayne Enterprises, in recompense for the inconvenience, would cover the expenses.
He hadn't really wanted to call on the Embassy, but the alternative was to submit to protection by the local authorities. Whoever was after Mamushi had already ferreted out where they would be staying and bypassed the hotel security to set the ambush. From what she had said, it appeared the Bellhop had been either a part of it or had been compromised as well. There was no telling how far they had infiltrated the area. Not knowing who was after her, or why, severely limited his options.
The Embassy seemed to be an unexpected tact, and was certainly more difficult to infiltrate. While they had been separated for interrogation, he'd talked his way into contacting Alfred, who in turn had contacted Senator Obama to make sure there would be a room available for them. From the difficulties they had encountered at the Embassy, Bruce was unsure if Alfred had reached the senator or not; he would look into it and thank the senator for his efforts regardless.
Bruce had washed up in a common restroom while Mamushi cleaned the blood from herself. She had obviously needed the shower more than he did, and his lifestyle made using whatever facilities were available a common practice. He wore black silk pajama bottoms under a midnight blue robe that had fallen open.
He looked up to see Mamushi emerge from the bath. He noted the matching nightgown and robe, both made of silk, and how it fit her body too well, conforming to her shape without really revealing anything. In other circumstances, he would have immediately been on the prowl. As it was, he couldn't help but notice the dagger she held. Small enough to be considered a defensive weapon, but certainly lethal enough if she used it correctly. He had little doubt she knew how to use it, and realized she had probably had it with her since they had first met. It was beginning to become very clear to him how little he actually knew about her.
He closed the computer as she sat to brush her hair out, noting the grace of her movements. He'd dealt with secret agents before, though few had managed to infiltrate as thoroughly as she had, and none had gotten as close to him without being detected. He still didn't know what her mission was, how she had failed in it, or who she was working for. Regardless, the first course of action had to be to get them to relative safety.
He knew she had deceived him, though probably not directly. Her honor seemed to not allow for her to directly lie. Given that, he trusted that she would not try to escape from him before they returned to the US, but that didn't mean he trusted her not to go out in the town and hunt down whoever was after her. That she had taken down three men meant she was far from helpless, but he wasn't ready to concede that she would be able to handle herself on the street. Even if she was, he didn't like the idea of her out in town killing people. Granted, she had killed in self-defense, but that didn't explain how she had gained the weapon in the first place. It was pretty obviously what she had been stabbed with. That confirmed that she was much more than she seemed.
"Thank you for not hiding that from me," he said to her as he rose, setting the computer aside. He was aware that she might still have other weapons hidden on her, though there were ways to verify that. "There's only one bed," he noted, stating the obvious. Still, it was an issue that needed to be faced. "I suggest we share it tonight."
He moved behind her, to where they could see each other in the mirror's reflection. "I'll be blunt: I don't want you sneaking out at night. If you were involved in another assault, it would be difficult to get you out of the country anytime soon. I am also very attracted to you. I guess I am attracted to who you wanted me to think you are, but I'm willing to bet the real you isn't all that different, in the core of your being. I meant what I said earlier, too. You don't need to live the life you are leading. You need to find out who you really are, and a purpose of your own. And I can help you with that."
She was silent for a long moment, her hands going still in her hair as her eyes met his through the mirror. His words shocked her, his concern for her apparent but she wondered if it was just to get her to talk or if it was genuine. She wanted to believe it was genuine, but far too often men said things just to get her attention or to put her at ease. So much had changed in the last two hours that she was not sure what to think now.
"I am not so sure you can," she said softly, lowering her gaze and her head as well, "When one is taught one way of life it is very hard to find and accept another no matter how much they want to."
She shook her head, the artificial light glinting off her tresses. The urge to cry was there but she fought it like she always had. Tears were a sign of weakness, and something she did not want to show to Bruce. He knew now how capable she was and she knew he was suspicious of her. She wanted to lay his fears to rest, but there was no way of doing that completely without confessing to him why she had been sent to him.
"Changing oneself is never an easy thing," Bruce replied. "For better or worse, you have an investment in who you are, and there exists a level of comfort in that. You can never be sure when you set out to become something different that the end will be better than where you started up at. There is no surety that you won't quit and go back to the self you know, even if it is a self you don't want to be. I can't offer you a pair of Ruby Slippers, or even a Yellow Brick Road."
He moved around to face her, sitting on his heels to put them at an equal level. "What I do offer you is my faith: that you can be a better person; that you have the strength to become more than you are; that you are worth the time and effort to make the change. I also offer you my belief in you that you will make the right decisions at the right times, and my pledge to be there to help you however I can. I know it will be a tough journey. I expect you to make mistakes. That's okay."
He paused for a moment, his hand beginning to reach out for her. He stopped short, though, and turned his hand palm up between them. "I accept that I might be totally wrong about you, and I accept that risk. I think you are better than this, better than being someone's puppet on a string. You have honor, something all too rare in this world."
He looked down at his hand, then back up at her. "I can only make the offer. You have to be the one to accept or reject it."