Chapter Eleven


The sun was just cresting the mountains east of Bangalore City as Arun Birla reached out and pressed the stop button on the tape machine. He sat back thoughtfully in his chair in his private home just outside the city, contemplating the conversation between Hadji Singh and his mother. So, things were finally coming to a climax at last. Birla smiled in anticipation.

"This was well done," he said to the man who stood rigidly in front of his desk. "I could wish that the Sultan were a little less knowledgeable than he appears to be, but no matter. There is little he can do to stop us now, and we should be able to bring our plans to a satisfactory ending very soon."

"Shall I contact our agents in the United States? The Sultan would not expect an attack there. We could eliminate him easily and then the country would be ours."

Birla shook his head. "No. Although he is Sultan of Bangalore, he is still an American citizen with a powerful family. Kill him on American soil and we will have an international incident to deal with. No, we need him back in Bangalore. Then, when he dies, it will be an internal matter, and we need not fear reprisal from the Americans."

"What of the Regent?"

"What of her?" Birla asked disdainfully. "She is only a woman, what could she possibly do? No, let her roam the palace as she wishes, but keep a close watch on her. We can eliminate her at our leisure once the Sultan is dead." Then he frowned. "I do believe that we will work to hurry up the conclusion of this enterprise, however. I grow weary of waiting. Let us get the Sultan back to this country to put an end to this."

"But how, Sire?" The man gestured at the tape machine. "He stated clearly that he is aware that to return here would mean his death. And since you say we can do nothing openly, how are we to get him to return?"

Birla's smile was not pleasant. "We must make him want to return. We cannot act directly against Sultan Singh, but there is one that we can. Contact our operatives in America. Tell them that they are to take the girl immediately and bring her back here. I want her under guard in my house before this time tomorrow."

"What of the Sultan? Do we do it in such a way that he does not know about it?"

Birla laughed. "No. By all means, allow him to know of it. Even better, have them take her while they are together." He gestured at the tape machine again. "His mother has directed him to spend some time with her to help ease his disturbed spirit. The timing should be excellent, and the action will give him more of an incentive to come home and attempt to get her back. Just be certain that the men you send cannot be connected directly to me. Now, go. We do not want to miss such an excellent opportunity!"

The man on the opposite side of the desk bowed deeply. "It shall be as you command." ."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Kefira leaned back in her chair and sighed contentedly. "That was wonderful," she said to Hadji. "I love this place."

"I am glad. Although, I must admit that your sudden affinity for Mexican food surprises me. This is the third time this week that you have wanted to eat here!"

She cocked her head at him and grinned. "Why are you surprised? I love all different types of food and this was something that I had never had the chance to try before coming here."

Hadji laughed. "I see. Then I must start searching for new ethnic restaurants to take you to so that you do not get bored."

She reached across the table and caught his hand. "I could never be bored as long as it is you that takes me." She scanned his face closely and then added softly, "You meditated this afternoon. I can tell. You are more centered and at peace than the last time I saw you."

He nodded. "Yes, but there is more." He looked at her seriously. "I had a long talk with my mother this afternoon." He saw the fear flicker across her face and shook his head sharply. "No, it is all right. It began as an argument, but ended well." A frown turned down the corners of his mouth. "I just hope that I have not made another mistake telling her the things I did."

"Tell me."

He told her about his conversation with his mother and the information that he had finally given her. "I named no names, but she now has a much better grasp of the true situation in Bangalore," he finally concluded.

"But I would think that would be a good thing," Kefira said with surprise. "Why does this idea disturb you? I know how difficult your relationship with your mother has been over the last few years. Your attempts to find ways to protect her from the true situation may have been noble, Hadji, but it is difficult to have to generate and then live with constant antagonism between people you care about."

Hadji chuckled wryly. "Unfortunately, I did not have to deliberately generate it. I honestly do not like the trappings of power, so anything that reminds me that I must be bound by them irritates me . . . particularly when they are used as an excuse to make me behave in a way foreign to my nature. Also, my mother made a point today. My adoptive father and my natural mother are more alike than either one of them cares to admit. And where Father may be struggling to cope with the idea of Jonny and I being old enough to be out on our own, my mother is struggling with the jealousy that comes from having missed watching me grow up. She yearns to be able to recapture those years she missed and does not wish me to be any more of an adult than Father does Jonny. The truth is that I have coped with Mother's attempts to cling to me no better than Jonny has coped with Father's."

"I do not believe that it is easy being a parent," Kefira observed thoughtfully.

Hadji looked at her seriously. "May I ask you something?"

She looked surprised. "Certainly . . . anything you wish."

"Do you want children?"

She stared at him, dumbstruck. "Do I . . . well, it is rather an academic question," she finally replied. "Of course we will have children. It will be expected of us."

Hadji shook his head. "No. I am not talking about what is expected of us. I am asking if that is what you wish."

Kefira stared at him for a long time. Finally, she replied, "I will not answer that question."

Now it was Hadji's turn to be dumbfounded. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Because it is another one of those questions that leaves me in an extremely awkward position."

"Why? It is a simple enough question."

"No, it is not. If I say 'yes', then you will spend weeks . . . or even months . . . debating with yourself, trying to determine if it really is what I want, or if I am simply saying that it is because you think I feel obligated to feel that way. Do you realize that it took a conscious decision to die rather than be separated from you to make you truly believe that I was with you because I loved you? What would I have to do to convince you that I mean what I say if I were to tell you I wanted children? And if I say 'no', then you return to the idea of not marrying me because you will not have me forced into doing something that I do not wish to do. I cannot win by answering the question, therefore I will not do it."

"But it is important . . ."

"I will not answer you," she replied stubbornly, "so you may as well stop asking."

"And if I order you to respond?" he said, somewhat stiffly.

She glared at him. Carefully, she laid her napkin on the table, reached down to pick up her purse, and then said clearly, "Then I will tell you exactly where you may stick your order . . ." Rising, she turned and walked away. Halfway across the room she stopped and turned back. Bowing regally, she added, " . . . Excellency." Turning again, she disappeared into the short corridor that led to the lady's room, leaving everyone in the restaurant staring.

Swearing under his breath, he tossed a couple of bills on the table and followed her across the room. Planting himself outside the bathroom door, he waited impatiently. Finally, a tap on his shoulder brought him around quickly.

"You want me to go in there and pass on a message?" The woman who had waited on them grinned at him sympathetically. "Wouldn't be the first time I've performed that service."

"I would be very grateful," he told her. "If you would just tell her that I am very sorry, and that I will not do it again . . . ever."

"That's the ticket!" she said with a grin, and disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later she reappeared. "Take heart. She's cooled off, and she'll be out in a few minutes."

"Thank you very much!"

It was another five minutes before Kefira appeared at the bathroom door. Before she could say anything at all, Hadji began to babble, "I am very sorry, Kefira. I should not have said that. You know that I would never, ever demand that you do anything you did not wish to do. I swear that I will never do such a thing ever again. You deserve . . .

Laughing, she held up her hands defensively. "Stop! Stop! Enough!" She reached out and caught his arm, turning him toward the door. "You are forgiven."

Laughing in relief, he pressed her arm against his side. "Do you realize that we have just had our first fight?"

"Was that a fight?" she asked with a mischievous grin. "It sounded nothing at all like the fights that I have seen Jonny and Jessie have."

"Praise be to God," he said fervently, as he opened the door. "I hope we will never fight the way those two do."

"They certainly do seem to enjoy making up, however." The two of them were laughing companionably as they left the restaurant and began to walk down 110th Street, heading back toward campus. On their left was the north edge of Central Park and through the trees they could see the lights of the Dana Discovery Center reflecting in the water of the lake. Darkness had fallen, however the streets were still alive with people. The young couple didn't hurry, strolling leisurely through the crowds. As they neared campus, the pair turned from the main thoroughfare onto a dark, quiet side street. This was a neighborhood of apartment buildings and old single-family homes. Four and five story brownstones with little or no front yards formed the bulk of the structures, and cars were parked along the curb on either side of the street.

At the same time, both of them caught the stealthy movement between the vehicles not far ahead of them.

"Hadji . . ." Kefira hissed softly, tightening her grip on his arm.

"I see it," he whispered. His internal radar began going off loudly as he scanned the area swiftly. He had caught the movement of at least two people. Whoever they were, they were between them and Kefira's apartment building. The walls of the buildings on one side and the bumper-to-bumper vehicles on the other boxed them in. Without going up and over parked cars, they were limited to the space formed by the somewhat narrow sidewalk they were on. They could turn around and retreat back toward the more brightly lit boulevard, but that meant turning their backs on whoever lurked ahead of them, and Hadji didn't think that was a wise idea. Suddenly, Kefira uttered an exclamation and stopped to bend down and reach for something at her feet. When she straightened, she hissed softly, "Behind us . . . at least two men about 20 yards back . . . moving up slowly."

"There are at least two ahead of us as well," he responded in the same tone. Turning her to face him, he placed one hand on the side of her face and tilted her head up toward him. Leaning down as if to kiss her, he glanced swiftly in both directions. "All four are moving toward us," he whispered, his lips just a hair's breadth away from hers. "When I tell you, go past me, over the hood of the car, and . . ."

"I will not run and leave you here alone!" she said breathily and then her lips fastened on his. An instant later, she exploded. Spinning on one leg, her other one caught the lead attacker square in the stomach. He doubled over with a grunt as she followed up with a fist to his ear. The man reeled backward, clearing a path for the second assailant. At her back, Hadji had turned to face the other two attackers. Having been given a split second's warning, they were more prepared and came at him from two different directions. With little room to maneuver, Hadji did the only thing he could. With a leap, he sprang to the hood of the parked car beside them. The unexpected move caught one of the men off guard and Hadji was able to send him slamming back into the wall of the nearby apartment building with a kick to the jaw. Unfortunately, in the time it took to make that move, Hadji's second assailant reached in and yanked his other leg out from under him. Hadji came down hard across the hood of the car, momentarily stunned. He watched as the other man pulled a gun and aimed it at him. But salvation came from an unexpected source.

"No!" one of the attackers snapped in Hindi. "Our orders were to leave him unharmed. It is the girl we want. Bring her and let us go!"

Kefira still fought like a tigress and the two men who were attempting to hold her were having a very difficult time. The man with the gun holstered it again and moved to assist his companions, but by this time, Hadji had his breath back. As the man turned his back, Hadji launched himself off the hood of the car and slammed into him again, sending them both careening into Kefira and her captors. The three staggered, and Kefira went limp, her unexpected weight throwing her captors off balance even further. Gathering her feet back under her, she straightened abruptly, thrusting the top of her head up under the chin of one of the men. She could hear his stunned grunt as his teeth snapped together and his hold on her loosened. Shoving him away, she clawed viciously at her other captor's eyes. The man staggered away, his hands covering his eyes. Kefira turned and, with both fists, struck Hadji's attacker hard in the kidneys. The man swore and lashed out at her with one fist. It struck her sharply in the face and she fell back with a cry.

Hadji snarled and twisted, breaking his attacker's hold. Dropping to a crouch, he lashed out with one leg, attempting to knock his opponent's feet out from under him, but the man moved too quickly. He jumped, clearing the intended blow, and tackled Hadji, sending them both to the ground. They rolled across the sidewalk until they came up sharply against one of the parked cars. With a quick movement, the man thrust Hadji against the vehicle and swung at him with a fist. The blow caught him across one cheekbone and his head snapped back sharply, leaving his head ringing. Through the roaring in his ears, Hadji heard Kefira cry out again. With all of the strength he could muster, he swung at his opponent, catching him squarely on the jaw. The attacker grunted, and Hadji lashed out again, desperate to get the man off of him and go to Kefira's assistance. The third blow caused his attacker to fall away, senseless.

"Enough!"

Hadji surged to his feet once more, only to find the fourth man holding a gun to Kefira's head. She lay on the ground, pinned tightly by a foot planted firmly on her diaphragm. Her head and shoulders were raised off the ground by his grip on her hair, and a gun pressed against her temple.

"I have no orders preventing me from killing her," the man warned in a soft, deadly voice, "so if you want her to live, you will back away now."

Hadji froze, staring at the man intensely. "What is it that you want?"

"From you?" The man grinned nastily. "Nothing. My orders are simple. Find the girl and return her to where she belongs."

"Orders from whom?" Hadji demanded harshly. "No one's orders supersede mine, and I tell you to let her go or forfeit your life!"

The man laughed harshly. "Your days are limited, Excellency. You have no power to command anyone!"

"Who ordered you to bring Kefira back to Bangalore?" Hadji demanded.

"Why, the Regent . . .who else?"

"I think not. My mother would never condone physical violence . . . she has been on the receiving end of it too often to be prepared to resort to it. Who sent you? And why Kefira? If you want to take anyone, why not me?"

"Politics." The man grinned again. "Her affiliations are clear and her disappearance will cause fewer problems." Removing his foot from her chest, the man dragged Kefira to her feet and pinned her body against his with his free arm. "Now, I have wasted enough time. If you value her life, Excellency, you will stand fast and allow us to depart."

"If you harm one hair on her head, I will see you dead," Hadji replied in a cold, flat voice.

"We shall see . . ." The man glanced swiftly at his three companions, who had all finally regained their feet, and snapped a sharp command in Hindi. With black looks at the young Sultan, they moved away into the darkness. Then the leader began backing away slowly, dragging Kefira with him.

Hadji and Kefira's eyes locked and Hadji went cold at the look he saw reflected there. Suddenly, he heard her voice echoing in his mind again. I do not wish to be separated from you. From this day forward, I will stand with you . . . no matter what happens. His heart constricted sharply, recognizing her intent. "No!" he screamed at her, but it was already too late.

Kefira twisted sharply and thrust an elbow into her captor's stomach. The man gasped in surprise and his hand jerked convulsively. The report of the gun shattered the silence as Kefira collapsed limply to the pavement.