Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 44
Serendipity Happens When You Least Expect It
by Technomad
The next few days were very tense. Harry and Dudley both kept very quiet when they were around Bougainvillea Traders' offices; Petunia reported that Balalaika was in a vicious foul mood. While they didn't fear their employer, they knew that she was one of the most ruthless killers in town. And there was a first time for anything, so why take chances, was their logic.
Dudley and Luna both took precautions against trigger-happy people mistaking them for the fugitives and trying to collect the reward. Instead of dyeing their hair, they used magic to change it from blonde to bright, glaring red. The first time they went down the Yellowflag with that, Revy saw them and her eyes went wide.
"Dudley! You've gone ginger, and so has your friend!" Rock, Benny, and Dutch looked over and smiled to see the three kids.
"Hi, Revy!" Dudley waved at the Chinese gunsel. "And hello to the rest of you! What's been going on in your lives?"
"Not much," rumbled Dutch. As captain of the Black Lagoon, he often took the lead in conversations. "Everybody in town's nervous, wondering where and at whom those maniacs will strike next." He pointed to some chairs. "Why don't you pull up chairs and sit with us? It's safer that way. The more guns…and wands…we've got, the less chance there is that we'll be victims."
"Sounds good to me," Harry answered, pulling the chair Dutch had pointed to up next to the table. As usual, Dutch made a lot of sense. Rock was smart, but Harry privately thought that the PT boat's captain was at least a little smarter. If only because he avoided getting mixed up with Revy Two-Hands…Harry clamped down on that thought firmly. He didn't know for sure, but he sometimes thought Revy had a trace of Legilemency. She'd sometimes been uncannily perceptive.
Sergeant Boris came in, staring at nothing. Without a word to anyone, he stepped up to the bar. Bao looked at him and pulled out a whole bottle of vodka. Boris signed the tab automatically, opened the bottle and poured a huge slug down, not bothering with a glass.
Harry's eyes narrowed. He had known Sergeant Boris for most of his life and had never known him to behave in such a way. He drank…what Russian didn't? Even Balalaika was no slouch with a vodka bottle. But normally, he kept himself under control. Boris took his work, and his command over his men, very seriously, just as Balalaika herself did. To see him drinking like this meant very serious trouble. Harry and Dudley went up to the bar beside him, with Luna right behind them.
"Er…is something wrong?" Dudley asked.
"Yes…" said Boris. His voice sounded like something coming out of a grave. "We found Sakharov."
"Oh?"
"He'd been dragged away by those two…you know who I mean, don't you?" Dudley, Luna and Harry all nodded. "Well, we found him." He took another huge slug of vodka. "I never saw anything worse in my life. Not even in Afghanistan, when we'd recover the bodies of comrades the mujahideen had been at." He drank again, looking distinctly green.
Harry felt sick. Petunia did not approve, but he and Dudley had heard many tales of Afghanistan, usually late at night when they were around Bougainvillea Trading's offices waiting to be sent on errands. Some of the men following Balalaika would drink, and when drunk, they would tell stories. Harry had long since privately resolved that Afghanistan was one place he was well content to stay out of. Compared to Afghanistan, Roanapur was boring, safe and middle-of-the-road.
Harry and Dudley looked at each other. Sergeant Boris was bleeding inside, and they didn't know what to do for their friend. Luna, however, did. She came over and put her arm around the Russian's broad shoulders. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she said: "I understand. You're very sad for your friend, and don't like the way he died. Daddy gets this way sometimes, when he misses Mummy more than usual. You'll see your friends again, I'm sure of it. But right now, it hurts."
Luna's gentle sympathy got through, and Boris' self-control crumbled. He sobbed aloud, and Harry and Dudley cast a Notice-me-Not charm. If any of the few other customers had dared to say anything, the boys would have hexed that person to a fare-thee-well.
Dutch stood up. "I think it's time we called it a night, people. Harry, I think I can trust you to see the Sergeant home safely, right?" The Black Lagoon crew got up to go, leaving Harry, Dudley, Luna and Boris as the only customers in the bar. For a second, Revy had looked like she wanted to let out some smart crack, but she'd seen the wands in the boys' hands, and the looks in their eyes, and had visibly thought better of it. Harry wondered, absently, if that was Rock's good influence. Revy Two-Hands was not known for letting her intellect rule her impulses.
Some hours later, the three friends helped the stumbling, mumbling sergeant back to Bougainvillea Trading. When they came in, Petunia gasped, before running forward to help them. "You heard about Private Sakharov, then?" she asked gently, taking Boris' arm over her shoulders and letting him rest a lot of his weight on her. Petunia was skinny, but she was wiry and in good condition. That was yet another part of working for Balalaika. She made very sure that all of her employees were fit and in good shape, even going to the length of providing a gym and instructions for those who needed them.
And, speak of the Devil…Balalaika came out of her office to see what was going on. "I see you brought Sergeant Boris back to us. I shall have the men put him to bed. He took the news about poor Private Sakharov very hard. We all did. Thank you for being so helpful, Petunia. You may expect a reward in your next pay packet."
"No, ma'am." Balalaika's eyes went very wide. Someone refusing money in Roanapur was one of the Biblical signs of the Apocalypse, in many people's eyes. "I didn't bring him back here. Harry, Dudley and their little friend Luna did. They should get the bonus. Not me."
Balalaika's expression was unreadable for a second, before she broke out in a huge smile. "For your honesty, Petunia, I shall increase your next pay packet, and give bonuses to all three of our young friends. I value honesty in my employees, and reward it. In a military situation, a commander needs accurate, reliable information, not information that happens to be tailored to whatever makes her feel good."
Petunia, Dudley, Harry and Luna all broke out in smiles. After Balalaika left, Petunia commented: "You know, the men of Hotel Moscow would follow that woman into Hell…and I understand why. If all Russian officers had been like her, the USSR would have ruled the world!" Luna looked puzzled; a pureblood from a rather sheltered background, she clearly didn't understand all Petunia had said. Petunia patted her head and said "I'll explain later, poppet."
The funerals for Menshkov and Sakharov were the next day, and all four English employees of Bougainvillea Trading attended, along with all of Hotel Moscow, and representatives of the other Roanapur mobs. The coffins were all but invisible beneath piles of floral tributes. As the Orthodox priest intoned prayers and sang, Petunia sobbed openly, and Luna wept silent tears. Harry and Dudley kept their faces rigidly impassive, as did the Russians, but tears wet their cheeks despite all they could do. Luna stood next to Sergeant Boris, and did all she could to wordlessly comfort him.
As chief mourner, Balalaika was first to throw dirt on the coffins. Only she, and her Afghan veterans, were so privileged. "Only a comrade throws dirt on a comrade" was their motto. When she stepped away from the graveside, Harry caught a glimpse of her face, and shivered inside. Whenever she had had that expression on before, people had died. She had taken the deaths of her men very personally, and for a second, Harry almost felt sorry for the people who had done it. Then he remembered what Sakharov had looked like. By some mistake, he had been let into the morgue, and he had caught a glimpse before being hustled out by a scandalized Sawyer. No, he decided. He didn't feel sorry for whoever had done this. Not at all.
Finally, the last prayers were sung, the ceremonial rifle salutes were fired, the graves were filled, and the ordeal was over. The mourners filed into hired limousines to go back into Roanapur; the farang graveyard was a little way out of town. At Bougainvillea Trading, the mood was very subdued, and nobody said much.
As day wore on into evening, Harry finally said: "Dudley, I don't know about you, but I'm sick of moping around here. Let's go on into town. Maybe hit the Yellowflag. Luna, you want to come?"
Luna nodded. "Oh yes. I'm not so sad for Privates Menshkov and Sakharov…I know I'll see them again, just as I will my Mummy…but seeing all of you so sad makes me sad. And when I'm sad, my throat hurts. A drink at the Yellowflag would be just the thing!"
"We'd best tell Balalaika where we're going." Harry went over and knocked on their employer's office door. At her "Enter," he went in and told her where they were going.
"Go on ahead. You're able to take care of yourselves, I think." Balalaika was standing, looking out the window, not really seeing the sun setting over Roanapur. "Wear your pistols, carry your cell phones, keep your wands handy, don't get separated, and if you run into any trouble, call the office immediately!"
"Yes ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Soon, all three friends were headed down the street toward the Yellowflag, where they hoped to find cheerful companionship, at least.
All of a sudden, they heard a roar of gunfire. Instinctively, Harry and Dudley ducked behind cover, pulling a curious Luna with them. Dudley pointed up at a window, where they could see lights flashing.
"That's Verocchio's place! The crazy shooters must be shooting it up!" After a minute, the shooting died down, and on the street level, a door opened and two tow-headed kids about their own age, a boy and girl, came running out. "Merlin's beard! Is that…them?"
Harry had thought his voice was low, but the two oddly-dressed young people heard. The girl gave a tinkling laugh and unlimbered a long object she had been carrying wrapped up in a blanket. Harry's eyes widened in horror as he recognized a Browning Assault Rifle, leveled at him!
"Duck! Incoming!" he screamed, as the girl opened fire, spraying the street with .30-06 fire. All three friends hit the dirt, as bullets whined and tinged off concrete and brick. When the three raised their heads, it was just in time to see the two attackers scampering off, down an alley.
Harry flipped open his cell phone, speed-dialing Bougainvillea Trading. "Aunt Petunia? It's me, Harry! We just ran across those two maniacs who shot up Balalaika's men! They look to have shot up Verocchio's headquarters, and they're going down an alley! We're on their tail!" Shutting the phone, he, Dudley and Luna leaped after their enemies.
All three of them were in good shape, and they were able to keep the two fugitives in sight, but didn't dare get too close. Harry wasn't sure whether their spells would avail much against machine-gun fire, and didn't care to find out that they wouldn't the hard way. Balalaika, before Hogwarts, and his teachers at Hogwarts, had all drilled into him that caution could save his life.
He could all but hear Balalaika's contralto, with its slight Russian accent: "Hot-dogging will get you killed, Harry. Don't go trying to earn any medals. Just do your job and medals, if they happen, will happen in their own good time." As always, Balalaika's advice was good. He had told Professor Snape about it, and the Potions Master had said that Balalaika was very wise and he hoped one day to make her acquaintance.
Peering cautiously around a corner, he saw the two strangers talking to what looked like a couple of local Thai kids. Some money passed hands, and the Thai kids turned and climbed into a Japanese sedan with tinted windows. The car's headlights lit up, the engine started, and it moved off, tentatively at first, and then with greater confidence once it got out into the main streets. Behind it, the boy and girl hugged gleefully, laughing that high, cold laugh that reminded Harry uncomfortably of Lord Voldemort.
"Dudley! Call Balalaika! Let her know that there's a decoy car out on the street, driven by two kids who look like the people who shot up her bars!" Dudley yanked out a cell and speed-dialled Bougainvillea Trading, while Harry and Luna kept the boy and girl in sight.
END Chapter 44
