Chapter Fifty


The sound of raised, angry voices reached Garrett Blackman the minute he opened the door to the large airplane hangar in Delhi. Behind him, his companion uttered a disgusted comment in a language Garrett didn't recognize, but its meaning was clear, nonetheless. As he strode across the airplane hangar following the sound of the verbal battle, he grimaced to himself. He'd just about reached the point where he wished the two men would just kill each other and get it over with. It would definitely make life easier.

"I don't care!" Paul Bussac yelled loudly. "I am not leaving those two in that mess!"

The head of I-1 Operations, Ethan Barclay, responded in the same tone. "Listen to me! Foreign intervention is the last th -"

"Shut up! I've had enough of government rhetoric. Those two are little more than children and Race is a friend. I'll be damned if I leave his daughter -"

"Damn it, Bussac, all you'll do is get yourself killed . . . and maybe them, too! The U.N. -"

"Screw the U.N.! They should have acted days ago. I've got a team of men ready to -"

"The U.S. cannot get involved in this dispute! I've told you that before. Until Kefira or Hadji Singh ask for U.S. assistance -"

"And how are they supposed to do that?" Bussac snarled. "The country's shut down, mercenaries control both the borders and communication -"

"Don't tell me things I already know! But it still doesn't change the fact that U.S. assistance has not been -"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Garrett thundered, cutting cleanly across the escalating argument. He strode up to the two men and glared at both of them fiercely. Focusing his gaze on the older man, he said coldly, "Commander Barclay, you are here as my guest. While I appreciate your perspective on the situation, you have voiced it more than often enough. Mr. Bussac and his associates are here at my request. As such, they are not representatives of the U.S. Government, making your argument moot." Then he turned his glare on Paul. "As for you, I warned you when you approached me about coming here that we would not go charging in like mad bulls. We would be invited or we wouldn't go at all."

"Just how do you propose -"

"We have an invitation." You could have heard a pin drop in the resulting silence.

"An invitation from whom?" Barclay asked carefully after a long pause.

Garrett's eyes were black and emotionless as he looked from one to the other. Then he smiled . . . an expression so predatory that it made both men stir uneasily. "The head of Bangalore's Advisory Council . . . the Honorable Arun Birla."

Ethan uttered an incoherent sound of protest as Paul said, "Birla's invited you to Bangalore? Why?"

A low, throaty chuckled drew Paul and Ethan's attention to Garrett's companion for the first time. "Why, he believes that Mr. Blackman has weapons to sell," Jade Kenyon replied. "Modern weapons . . . like missile launchers."

"And just where did Birla get that idea?" Ethan demanded stiffly, staring at Jade with obvious dislike.

"From me." Jade replied easily. "I brokered the deal."

"You -" Paul sputtered.

Ethan's eyes seemed to glow with the force of his anger. "I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you've finally gotten involved in illegal arms sales, although it's low, even for you, Kenyon."

Jade laid a hand against her chest and gave him a mocking look. "And here I thought you loved me. You wound me, Commander." But then her expression turned hard. "I don't need your shit, Barclay, so just back off. I have no intention of providing Birla with anything of value."

"What do you think the man's going to do when you get there and you have no weapons to sell him?" Ethan demanded.

She grinned at him again, her expression similar to the one Garrett had shown just moments before. "Who said I don't have weapons?"

"You aren't going to sell that man missile launchers!!!!"

"Why not? They do him no good without the missiles, and that wasn't part of the deal."

"Those are the ones you got for Jessica, aren't they?" Paul demanded and Jade nodded. "Does Birla know he's not getting the artillery?"

Jade looked contemplative for a moment. "Well, the specific subject may not have come up, but then I was a bit pressed for time . . ."

"You are insane," Ethan said flatly. "You can't do this."

"Of course I can. And it won't make any difference because before all is said and done, Birla will be a dead issue, Bangalore will be back under Hadji's control, and the missile launchers will be quickly and safely disposed of. Provided I even turn them over to him once we're there." She shrugged. "We'll just see what happens."

"Furthermore, it's gotten us the invitation, which is all that matters," Garrett said. "Bussac, get your men and equipment on board that plane. I want to leave within the hour. I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid. We have no idea what kind of conditions we'll be facing when we get there and I want to be on the ground and within the palace before sunrise." He looked at Jade seriously. "You're sure you want to risk this?"

"In for a penny, in for a pound," she replied philosophically.

"Can you fly that jet?"

"If it has wings and a motor, I can fly it."

"Then you're going to pilot. I don't want to take one of my own people into that mess if I don't have to. How much room are you going to need for the merchandise you're taking to him."

"Not much. I'm only taking one." Garrett raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Oh, he wants more than that, and I told him I could get them. But I haven't stayed alive all these years by being naïve. He gets one as a sample and will be asked to produce the money. After all, with a country at war, I can be forgiven for being skeptical about his ability to come up with my asking price. He'll be told that if he can come up with the funds, that the remainder will be air dropped to him once the transfer to a Swiss bank account has been verified. It buys us some time."

"And this is my idea," Garrett said dryly.

She grinned at him. "Of course. I just communicate the wishes of my client."

Garrett just snorted and then looked at Ethan. "This is the end of the road for you, Commander. If something goes wrong, we might be able to sell the idea that we acted as independent agents, but your presence would make it a government action. There's no way you can come with us."

Ethan stared hard at Garrett for a long time. "Why are you doing this?" he finally asked.

Garrett cocked an eyebrow at him. "What difference does it make?"

"Just answer my question."

Rather than getting angry, Garrett seemed little more than mildly amused. "Let's just say I have a vested interest in the outcome of this dispute, and that I intend to protect my interests." With that, he turned and walked away.

Paul and Jade stood silent, watching the military man to see what he would do. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he shook his head in resignation. "You are all crazy," he muttered darkly as he retreated toward the back of the hangar.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"You trust this man?" the Captain of the Janissaries asked Arun Birla with a frown. "This sudden offer for weapons seems a bit too convenient -"

Birla stilled his restless pacing, the robe he wore swirling around him in waves of shimmering color. "'Too convenient'?" he said sourly. "You come to me inadequately armed, even though I am paying you a king's ransom, and then when I find an avenue to obtain the necessary weapons, you complain? Just be grateful I was able to locate someone who can provide them before all of your precious mercenaries get beaten on the field of battle!" He glared darkly at the field commander, who stood silently off to one side. His expression was carefully neutral, but he stared so fixedly at the wall that Birla wondered the wallpaper and paint didn't shrivel up and melt away.

"We would have brought more modern weaponry, however you did not wish to pay the added cost and assured us they would not be needed," the Captain noted coldly. "You underestimate your opposition, Excellency, as I have pointed out before."

"My opposition!" Birla snarled, resuming his restless pacing. "A barely grown boy and his peasant whore? I think, rather, that I underestimated the capabilities of my allies." He spun and glared fiercely at the field commander who still stood motionless and without expression. "How could a trained mercenary be beaten by a woman?"

The Commander shrugged, never taking his eyes off the wall. "Our adversaries were greater in number, better armed than anticipated, well commanded, and motivated by a rage that drove out fear and sense. Berserker charges are next to impossible to stop, no matter who the enemy."

"Well commanded," Birla sneered as he paced by the man. "To be out- thought by a mere girl -"

"As I said earlier," the Commander replied, his tone infinitesimally sharper, "the men who fought at the mine were commanded by an outsider. She was held in high regard by her men and the Sultana followed her - "

"That woman is not Sultana!" Birla shouted, his fury erupting into violence as he swept several small pieces of statuary off of a nearby shelf. "The Council will never -"

"Proclaimed as Sultana by the Council or not, the people recognize her as such and follow her without question. And the woman who stands at her side is as deadly an enemy as we have ever encountered. She is a trained fighter, can obviously teach tactics effectively to others, is highly knowledgeable in warfare, both open field and hit-and-run, and the Sultana defers to her and follows her advice. What is more, they are honorable opponents."

"At last, a weakness!" Birla replied sarcastically.

For the first time, the field commander turned his gaze on Arun Birla and the expression in his eyes froze the man's words in his throat. "Hardly a weakness," the Commander said in a deceptively gentle voice. "Their honor ensures them the loyalty of their followers, whether they fully believe in the Sultana or not, and it earns them respect in their opponents . . ." The Commander's gaze raked Birla from head to toe, his expression disgusted. " . . . most of the time. Fueled by the rage that has been rising as a result of the tactics used against them, the people of this country have taken a stand and I do not believe they will back down." With one final, scathing look at Birla, the man returned his gaze to the wall and fell silent once more.

The Captain shifted in his chair uneasily and after a moment, he asked, "You believe the people will continue to fight without this woman to lead them, then?"

The Commander turned to look his leader squarely in the eyes. "I believe that if either the Sultan or Sultana of Bangalore is killed, none of us will leave this country alive."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"Excellency!" an excited voice called loudly across the echoing warehouse in the heart of Bangalore City.

The low buzz of conversation stilled and in the resulting silence, the hissed, "Be silent!" could be clearly heard. Vijay Patel strode swiftly into the middle of the room and gestured sharply, motioning several men toward the door. "Outside quickly! Watch the crowds on the street. Any sign that notice was taken of that shout, come to me and we will leave here immediately." Moving swiftly over to the man who had called out, Vijay snatched his arm and dragged him toward Hadji. Jerking him to a stop in front of his Sultan, Vijay shook the man's arm and growled angrily, "Why did you do such a thing? You know that secrecy is of the utmost importance right now."

The man looked shaken and began apologizing profusely in a hushed whisper. Jonny cut him off. "Forget it. It's done. What did you want to tell us?"

The man gulped as his gaze darted from Hadji to his brother. "It is the radio, Excellency . . ."

Both young men stiffened. "What about the radio?" Hadji demanded urgently. "Is there someone on the radio now?"

"No, Excellency. There was no time to call you. There was only a message -"

"From whom?" Jonny demanded sharply. "The Sultana?"

The man shook his head. "No. It was from her Sword."

"What did she say?"

The man looked down at the piece of paper he clutched in his hand. "I wrote it down, but it made no sense . . ."

"Tell me!" Jonny commanded.

The man gazed at the paper for a minute and then read carefully, "'MegaQuest going hot and the front door is mine. 1.016 mark. Wait for it.'" The man looked at Jonny helplessly. "That was all she said. As I said, it makes no sense. She even repeated it, so I am certain that I copied it correctly . . ."

Hadji looked from the man to his brother. "What -" Then he broke off as a smile spread across Jonny face.

"God, I love that woman so much," Jonny said fervently. He spun and gestured to Vijay. "Start packing. We've got our confirmation and timeline. We need to be out of here as soon as it's fully dark."

"But -" Vijay began to protest, but Hadji cut him off.

"Go on, Mr. Patel. Make the arrangements. We will outline the plan to everyone once they are organized and ready to move." Reluctantly, Vijay nodded and moved away to fulfill his orders. Once the two were alone, Hadji turned to Jonny. "Do you plan to fill me in or do I have to wait until you announce it to the others?"

Jonny grinned at him. "What was the goal of MegaQuest?"

Hadji frowned but answered promptly, "To invade the castle and capture the challis."

Jonny nodded. "Well, we aren't going after a challis, but invading the castle certainly applies."

"And MegaQuest is going hot," Hadji continued thoughtfully. "She's acknowledging our plan to hit the castle."

"And the front door is hers," Jonny agreed. "They'll be here and we're to steer clear of the front of the palace . . . she'll take care of that."

"And '1.016 mark'?"

"The time. 1.016 is the number of one of her engineering core courses this term. It starts at 9:00 a.m. She doesn't want us starting at dawn."

"So the attack will begin at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning."

"Yep. And we're to wait for it. She'll take first strike."

"How?"

Jonny shrugged. "How do I know? But you can bet that however she does it, we'll know it when it happens."

Hadji grunted in dissatisfaction. "I wish we could have talked with her."

"Better that we didn't," Jonny replied, clapping his brother on the back. "I don't think either of us could have kept things short. Come on, we need to get ready to go. It's almost dark and within half an hour we need to be ready to move out of here. We've got a lot to do between now and nine tomorrow morning."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"Well?" Kefira demanded as Jessie trudged wearily into the clearing around their command post. Taking the glass one of the guards offered her, she drained it thirstily and then returned it to him with a nod.

"Base camp on the plain has been secured and there's enough people down there now to hold it. Captain Gupta has ordered the people to start moving en masse and he's assured me that he'll see to it that everyone gets situated safely." Kefira turned and walked a few paces away, staring out across the sea of people who had begun packing.

"What about the men who will accompany us?" When Jessie didn't answer immediately, Kefira turned back to her with a frown.

Jessie waved her hand signaling the other woman to patience as she chewed hastily. "Sorry," she mumbled in a shower of crumbs. "Missed lunch and dinner." She swallowed and then took a large drink from the glass the grinning guardsman handed back to her. Coughing slightly, she swallowed again and was finally able to answer. "Well, I've got them, but there's a lot more than the original number we'd planned on taking. No one wants to stay behind."

"How many more?"

"I finally weeded it down to about 175. But they're all good men with experience in handling weapons."

"I thought you said that we could not arm that many."

Jessie grinned. "We can now. I must have been sloppy . . . I missed one of the weapons caches in the castle . . . a big one. That may explain why the Janissaries are continuing to harass us. It was in one of the sections that ended up untouched by the fire. Not only do we have enough weapons and ammunition to arm everyone we take with us, but there will be enough to arm a good number of the people we leave behind. Captain Gupta has set up with the ruins on one side of the encampment, and he and his men are using anything they can find to form a perimeter wall. They'll have something defensible set up by dark. He's also found pits that were obviously dug by the Janissaries as foxholes in the hope of catching their adversaries unaware. He's filling them with combustible material and using them as burn pits. They'll light up the area outside the perimeter wall so no one can sneak up on them."

Kefira made a noncommittal sound as she paced the clearing uneasily.

After watching her for a few moments, Jessie asked quietly, "What's bothering you?"

"I am not sure," Kefira replied irritably. "Something. I am -" She broke off as though at a loss for words. Finally, she asked, "Do you trust Captain Gupta and his men?"

"Depends," Jessie answered promptly.

"On what?"

"On what we're talking about. Do I trust them to defend these people and hold this area? Yes. Even Captain Gupta has acknowledged that things have gone too far for him to simply sit back and watch any longer. Let's face it, the very thing he was assigned to watch has been destroyed. But he's still unwilling to return to the city and take part in an active assault. So when it comes to forcing him to return with us to fight . . . no, I don't trust him that far."

With a sudden flare of temper, Kefira snapped, "Why is the man being so stubborn? Why can he not see that this is the only way?"

Jessie sighed softly as she sank into a camp chair and propped her feet up on a nearby crate. "You want a straight answer?"

"I would not ask if I did not wish to know," Kefira replied testily.

"Okay. Then I think the reason he's being resistant isn't because he doesn't see the necessity. I think it's because of you. Kefira, this guy is old school all the way. In his mind, women serve only one purpose, and they should never be allowed outside of the home. Your intelligence, strength of will, and abilities threaten him . . . probably change of any kind threatens him. From what I can see, the majority of his men have much less of a problem with you . . . either as a military leader or as the new wife of their Sultan. But Captain Gupta is in a position to make their lives miserable so they are being very careful to keep their opinions to themselves. The job I've outlined for the Sipahi forces here is something that can easily be considered as an extension of both the traditional role of the military . . . protecting the civilian populace . . . and the orders they had originally from Hadji."

"He can overlook that you gave him the job."

Jessie shrugged. "To a degree. Also, even though I'm a woman, I'm not a woman of Bangalore, so I'm outside of the set of rules that govern his life. As long as I don't ask him to do anything more than a man has already given him instructions to do, then we're in good shape. It's one of the reasons I'm determined to leave Mr. Kumar here. His authority comes from your father, who took his orders directly from Hadji. It's a shaky link, but it's good enough for Gupta. Between the two of them, they'll cope, and it will get Captain Gupta out of our way."

Kefira sighed heavily. "I am finally beginning to understand why is it is that Hadji hates being the Sultan so much." Jessie just laughed. "So are we ready to leave then?"

Jessie shook her head. "Not quite." She gestured around them at the heavy shadows that were filling the valley and then at the late afternoon sunshine that was still visible out on the open plain. "The sun's dropped down behind the mountains here, but we haven't hit sunset yet. In another hour it will be fully dark, we'll leave then. I think it's better that we move under cover of darkness. The moon's full and it's just now rising above the mountains. With the moonlight, we'll be able to drive without lights. I don't think it will be a big secret about where we're headed, but we can minimize the Janissaries knowledge of our progress so that we aren't targeted as soon as we reach the city." Then she grinned at Kefira once more. "Furthermore, you need to talk to Mr. Kumar again. He's found a new set of reasons why he has to come with us."

Kefira sighed in exasperation. "I have already told him -"

"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it or willing to give in without a fight."

"I will take care of Mr. Kumar. You just make certain we are ready to leave within the hour. If we do not do so we will not be ready to attack at dawn."

"We're not going to attack at dawn," Jessie replied. "I've been thinking about that and I've got a better idea."

"But Hadji and Jon wanted us to -"

"We can re-program that plan, which is exactly what I'm going to do. I want daylight before we strike."

"Why?"

"Because I think it's time the outside world knows what's going on in this country and with a little bit of extra time, we have the perfect opportunity to set it up."

Kefira's irritation dissipated as her interest was peaked. "What are you planning?"

"If the Janissaries have radio equipment good enough to triangulate our position this far out, then the odds are good they also have equipment good enough to tap into the world-wide communications network."

"How?"

"Satellite uplink gear is my bet. It's at least worth the attempt to find it. Because if we can, we've got the perfect way of letting people know what's going on here."

"Mr. McCaffrey?"

Jessie nodded. "And his partner. They found Mr. Armstead's camera gear in the same storeroom as the weapons. It's intact and operational."

"Mr. Armstead is not, however," Kefira pointed out. "The doctor says that there is no hope of saving his arm, and he may not survive at all. He needs a great deal more help than just field medicine."

Jessie sighed. "I was afraid of that. But we still have his stuff. We'll give Mr. McCaffrey the equipment, someone to help him, and his exclusive. I have no doubt that he'll take care of the rest."

"All right. But how do you intend to warn Hadji and Jon of the change?"

"With this," Jessie replied, waving the radio at Kefira. "They're expecting a confirmation call. I'll let them know the change."

"How? They said to keep any message short and to communicate a major change in plan . . ."

Jessie shrugged. "That's easy. They told us to communicate either 'yes' or 'no', and if the answer was 'no', then a time when we'd be ready. All I need to do is communicate a time . . . 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning and that they're to wait for my move." Jessie leaned forward and patted the crate beneath her feet. "I intend for our opening salvo to be to the point and spectacular. They won't have any doubt about when the assault starts."

Kefira stared at the crate for a moment and then looked back at Jessie. "Is that the missile launcher?"

"You betcha."

"You are planning on blowing up the palace?" the young Sultana asked carefully.

But Jessie shook her head. "No. We don't have sufficient firepower to do that even if I wanted to. But I am going to blow the hell out of the front gate and its surrounding walls. Kefira, that place was designed to hold out against a large-scale assault. We could throw men against its walls from now until a year from next Christmas and not get anywhere. Birla and his men would hole up and slaughter everyone inside, and there'd be nothing we could do about it. We need to get inside. I propose we breech the walls and take this fight directly to Birla and his Janissaries. It's the only way we're going to end this decisively."

Kefira stared off into the distance, looking troubled. "What of Hadji . . . and Jon. If Hemant is right, they intend to be inside when the battle begins. If we do this, we risk doing them harm, as well."

"Not if we see to it they're nowhere near the front walls of the palace when we strike. You leave that to me."

"Very well," Kefira finally replied reluctantly. "I agreed to follow your guidance and to this point you have done everything that needed to be done. If this is necessary, then it is what we must do."

Jessie glanced around her at the steadily darkening sky. "Look, why don't you go deal with Mr. Kumar and then signal the people to begin loading the trucks. I plan on moving every vehicle we have here down onto the plain. We'll fill all of them with people, and during the ensuing confusion, our trucks will kill their lights and slip away. Hopefully, it will keep the band of rogue Janissaries in the hills from realizing, at least for a while, that we've gotten away from them. In the meantime, I'll send the message to Jon and Hadji in Bangalore City and then I think we're ready to get this show on the road."

Kefira nodded sharply and then turned and walked away as Jessie reached out for the radio.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Sliding forward on his belly in the darkness, Jonny carefully peered over the screen of straggling shrubs and looked down at the men who prowled restlessly along the outer wall of the palace. Two of them hovered protectively right in front of the postern door, while three more moved outward along the base of the wall. And it was only by sheer luck and some strange sixth sense that Jonny had spotted the sixth man carefully secreted about ten meters up the hillside along the side of the pilgrim's trail that led away from the door. He grinned slightly. You're rubbing off on me, Jess, he thought fondly.

Their forces, led by Hadji, were hidden further along the hillside in the grove of trees that overlooked the front of the palace. For the moment, Jonny was their forward scout, and what he was seeing he didn't like at all. The six men who guarded the back door were all dressed either in peasant clothing or in the livery of the Sipahi, but Jonny wasn't fooled. Their alert stance, the way they moved, and the ease in which they handled their weapons marked them clearly as members of the Janissary. What was also immediately obvious was that they were expecting trouble and were ready for it.

Another disturbing thing was that Jonny had seen at least two radios, both of them in regular use. Security had been tightened, a fact that would make their entry into the palace even more difficult. Laying his forehead against his forearms, he contemplated the situation wearily for a long time. Finally, he slid back from his vantage point and made his way back to the others with extreme care.

"Where have you been?!?" Hadji demanded angrily when he rejoined them. "You were only to go and count the number of guards!"

Jonny noticed that only the team leaders were now in the grove. The rest of the men were missing. "Where is everyone?" he questioned in a hushed voice.

"I sent them into the hills. If a roving sentry discovers us, I do not want everyone bunched together. You did not -"

"You've seen sentries?"

"Yes," Mahavir replied softly over Hadji's strangled sound of irritation. "One came just after the Sultan scattered the men. He came through this grove, but did not attempt to search it."

"They've learned caution," Jonny commented grimly and told them about the guards on the back door.

"Yes," Vijay agreed when he had finished, "but I believe it is more than that. I have been watching the front gate of the palace. They are watching . . . as if waiting for something."

"What?" Jonny demanded.

Vijay just shrugged. "I do not know. It is just a feeling. So what do we do now? If you are correct about the guards keeping in regular contact with each other, then trying to bring men in through the back gate will not work."

"We need a diversion," Jonny replied thoughtfully. "Something that will keep them occupied long enough for us to get in."

"But any diversion we create will only pull off the men outside," one of the team leaders protested. "What of those inside?"

"Yes, and are we not liable to bring even more of them down on us if we call attention to ourselves?" another added.

Jonny waved at them. "Give me a minute," he hissed irritably, rubbing his eyes in an effort to still their itching and burning. God, I could sleep for a week, he thought to himself. Silence reigned as he contemplated the sitution frantically. Then, the glimmer of an idea dawned. Turning to Vijay, he said, "We're gonna lose a fight. Put together about ten men - there needs to be at least one really good shot among them - and send them to wait along the pilgrim trail about half a mile up from the gate. Tell them to move cautiously, because there's a sentry hidden along the trail a bit closer to the palace. I also need the men we selected to go over the wall with me here and ready to move within the hour. Do any of them know the palace well?"

Jonny could feel Hadji tense as he replied, "Why do you ask that? You know that I know the palace."

"You're staying here," Jonny replied flatly. "Who else do we have?"

"I am NOT remaining here!" Hadji hissed angrily, "These are my people and I will -"

"You can't climb!" Jonny snapped back with equal heat. "Not with that wound."

"I can -"

"He is right, my son," Neela said softly, making her presence known for the first time. She laid a hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. "You will only slow them down. It is wiser for you to allow your brother to do this thing so that you are ready to lead when the time comes."

"I will not ask these men to do what I am unprepared to do myself!"

"No one thinks less of you, Excellency," Mahavir told him in a quiet voice. "We all know the value you place on the life of your brother and how hard it is for you to send him into that place."

The two young men stared at each other through the gloom. Finally, Hadji whispered in an agonized voice, "We have always faced trouble together . . . watched each other's backs . . ."

"And we still do," Jonny replied firmly, placing his hand on Hadji's shoulder. "But right now I have a job to do, and so do you. I'm relying on you to get everyone inside once we get that door open. We won't have much time."

After a tension filled pause, Hadji sighed and asked resignedly, "What are you planning?"

"The men outside are going to make it appear that we're trying to storm the back door. It needs to seem as though there are a lot more men attempting it than there actually are." Pulling a small radio unit out of his pocket, he waved it at the men around him. "I've modified this so I can jam radio frequencies over short distances. We're going to gamble that when the attack begins and those men can't call for backup that they'll use the manpower they have handy."

"Pulling the men from inside the palace," Vijay said thoughtfully.

"Exactly. We'll still go in over the wall and be waiting inside. If necessary, we'll hit them from there, but I'd prefer to avoid that if we can. Surprise is our greatest advantage. If we can get back in with no one realizing it, we'll be that much further ahead of the game." Turning to Hadji, he demanded, "Are we agreed?" Reluctantly, Hadji nodded.

"I will lead the men in the hills," one of the resistance leaders volunteered. "I grew up here and know this area well."

Jonny squeezed the man's arm in grateful acknowledgement. "Good. Bait them away from the door. I don't care if you thin their numbers a little, but remember . . . don't beat them. It's important that they believe we lost this fight. Now, who knows the palace?"

"I do," Mahavir replied.

"Great. Think about it while we work our way in. If it becomes necessary for us to clear the way, I'd like to have a diversion within the palace that will draw the men off the door without them starting to wonder about outside influences. We only have to go about 15 feet up the corridor before we reach the access to the passages, so once things are clear, it shouldn't take too long to get everyone in."

"May I suggest something else?" Mahavir ventured.

"Yes."

"In the dark with all of the fighting going on, the guards should be too busy to be able to watch the perimeter very closely. You say that the exterior wall of the palace provides good handholds and is easy to scale. Most of the people with us know how to climb. I would suggest that rather than trying to take everyone through the back gate, that we send only those that cannot climb the walls in that way. Everyone else we take with us directly into the old section of the palace. I know we had discounted that idea earlier, however that was before we decided to use a distraction to occupy the guards."

Jonny thought about that. "How many do we have that will need to go through the back?"

"A dozen . . . perhaps a few more."

"Who are they? Can they work with the diversion team rather than going inside?"

"Then I am climbing," Hadji warned grimly.

"As am I," Neela added.

"Look, Hadj, I know how you feel, but -"

"No! One way or the other, I am going inside. Furthermore, you will need Mother and I. We are the only ones who know the passages well enough to move through them quickly."

Jonny sighed in frustration. "All right. We'll take everyone over the wall that we can and we'll try to spirit the others in the back.

"Do not worry, Excellency," the man that volunteered to lead the attack on the back door said. "We will keep the cursed Janissaries too busy for them to notice anything."

Jonny clapped him on the back. "Good man! You have a watch?" The man shook his head, causing Mahavir to unfasten his and pass it to Jonny. He checked it against his own and then passed it to the man. "You start your attack at 2:00 a.m. exactly. Got it?" The man nodded economically. "Then get going!"

Without another word, the man turned and disappeared into the darkness. With a weary sigh, Jonny turned back to the others. "That gives us a little over two hours to pass the word to the others. By the time the attack starts, I want everyone who's going over the wall hiding on the lower slopes as close as they can safely get. The key to this is getting over quickly and quietly. Mahavir and I will go first and get the security grating out. When I give the signal, I want everyone to move. There should be room on the walls for six men to be climbing at once. When the man in front of you disappears from your sight, the next one is to start. Once you're over the wall, hang by your hands and drop. The distance isn't great. As soon as you hit the floor, get clear or you'll have the next man landing on top of you. Mahavir and I will replace the grates after everyone is inside and then join you. Once we're inside, no one says a word until I say it's okay. Everyone clear?" Soft murmurs from the others affirmed Jonny's instructions. "Okay, I don't -"

"Excellency, someone comes!" an agitated voice called softly.

The reaction of the men was immediate as they all dropped down and searched for cover. "Here?" Hadji demanded in a sharp whisper.

"No. On the road . . . there is a car. And it is surrounded by many guards!"

"Now who the hell could that be?" Jonny demanded.

"I have no idea," Hadji replied from beside him. The plaza in front of the palace gates and the long, tree-lined avenue leading to it were bathed in artificial light that drove back the night. They all watched as a large black limousine appeared out of the darkness and negotiated its way through the rubble of the day's riots.

Suddenly, with no warning, the attack came. Rocks and other objects hurtled out of the darkness, striking their targets with remarkable accuracy and several of the Janissary guards went down. Jonny heard Hadji gasp sharply and felt him start to rise. Ruthlessly, Jonny grabbed him and forced him back to the ground.

"There's nothing you can do!"

The sound of gunfire shattered the night and another guard dropped to the ground as two of the windows on the car starred in a spiderweb of cracks. The remaining guards returned fire, shouting for the driver to continue. The limousine surged forward, racing for the rapidly opening gates as covering fire erupted from the top of the palace walls. Two more Janissary guards fell as they retreated toward the palace. Then, as quickly as it began, it was over, the vehicle and its remaining guards disappearing into the safety of the palace walls.

Jonny watched for a moment longer and then pulled back sharply. "I don't like it. We need to get inside. Come on, let's get this show on the road."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"What happened?" Birla demanded as he and the head of the Janissaries swept into the audience room. Both men came to an abrupt halt as Paul Bussac spun, an automatic weapon trained unerringly on them. Not far away, the remaining Janissary guards that had been assigned as escort lay in a motionless heap. "What is the meaning of this?" Birla sputtered.

"At the time we agreed to come here, you failed to mention that you didn't have the capitol city under control, Excellency," Jade said with cold sarcasm as she stepped out from behind a phalanx of alert, black-clad guards that stood behind Paul. She also held a weapon, however she didn't point it directly at the two men. "I don't like being shot at . . . nor does my employer. You've just had a hazard fee tacked on to the cost of your weapons."

"I will not be dictated to in this fashion!" Birla blustered. "You are questioning my honor -"

Jade snorted derisively. "Honor? This coming from a man who steals a country from a boy who relied on him? You have no honor to question."

"If you are so offended, then we will simply take my merchandise elsewhere to sell," a third voice added, then Garrett Blackman stepped out from behind his wall of guards. "I have no great need to sell to you. You, on the other hand, are rumored to have a very great need to buy." He shrugged negligently. "The choice is yours."

Birla's expression darkened perceptibly, but he controlled himself with an effort. "You are here now, so it would make very little sense not to conclude our deal. You have the merchandise, correct?"

"We have a sample," Jade corrected smoothly. "The balance will be provided once you have inspected the sample, expressed satisfaction at what we can provide, and paid the asking price . . . plus penalties."

"You expect payment before delivery?" the Janissary Captain exclaimed incredulously. Behind them, a third man stirred uncomfortably and then stilled once more.

Jade shrugged. "I have men waiting to deliver them once payment is confirmed. We'll remain here with you until the transaction is complete." She smiled slightly, as if reading the Captain's thoughts. "I doubt you will kill us once the deal is done . . . not when there will be no way to get the money back. Furthermore, if that happens, my men will ensure that the world knows what happened here. You may win the civil war, Excellency, but you won't hold your throne. The other countries of the world won't allow it."

"They won't dare to interfere!" Birla replied haughtily.

That statement made Jade laugh outright. "Really? Then I guess all of the troops massing on your borders must be waiting for their invitation to the post-war party."

"Once this is resolved and I am declared ruler, no one will dare to contest my right to rule."

"Then why don't you simply produce the Sultan and his mother?" Garrett interjected smoothly. "Surely that is the easiest route to power. Get them to step down in favor of you and it is finished. You would have no need to empty the royal treasury to purchase what I have to sell."

The third man, who had been standing so silently, broke in then. "And you would have no customer," he said softly, watching Jade, Garrett, and Paul with black, expressionless eyes.

Garrett shrugged. "As I said, I have no need to sell to you. I can always find a buyer."

"As for the Sultan and his mother," Birla added, his gaze turning cold and angry, "that is none of your concern. Bring your sample and come with me."

Birla spun and stalked out of the door followed closely by the leader of the Janissaries and his Commander. As they turned away, Garrett murmured softly to Jade and Paul, "Do you get the impression that he doesn't have the Sultan or his mother?"

"That would be my guess," Paul replied quietly.

"So the question is . . . where are they?" Jade commented. But before either of them could respond, the Janissary Commander materialized silently beside them.

"If you would come this way . . ." he said, his tone polite but his eyes steely. With a silent nod, Garrett spun on a heel and set out after Birla, the others falling in behind.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"Hurry!" Kefira urged Jessie for about the twentieth time since they had slipped away from the other vehicles and started for Bangalore City. "There is no reason to go this slowly!"

Jessie glanced down at the speedometer, which registered a steady 60 kilometers per hour, and grimaced. "Kefira, settle down. The last thing we need right now is a broken axle. We'll get there in plenty of time."

"Yes, but you said we cannot take the trucks into the city."

"That's right. We'll take them to the outskirts and then make our way on foot to the palace."

"But -"

"Kefira, I've already explained this. We want to draw as little attention to ourselves as we possibly can for as long as we can. I know Hemant said that the Janissary are holed up in the palace, but it really doesn't make good tactical sense to suppose they are all there. The last thing we can afford right now is to get you killed because we got sloppy."

"You truly believe there are still Janissary soldiers out among the people?"

"If I was in their place, I would be."

"Then what are you planning?"

"More gambling than planning, but I know Jonny pretty well. I'm betting that he's got men on the lookout for us . . . men we can trust. Hemant says he can lead us to where they were staying. I figure that before we ever get there, we'll be intercepted. If we're lucky, whoever meets us will know what they're planning as well as where we can find the satellite equipment."

"And if they do not?"

Jessie shrugged. "Then we forget about the idea and move on. We're playing this by ear . . . just like we've done with everything else since Jonny and Hadji left Maine. If you want to know the truth, I think we've been ungodly lucky so far. I just pray our luck holds."

"As do I."

Silence fell then, as each of them retreated into their own thoughts. Miles faded away under their wheels as the hours passed and the time moved from mid-evening into the dead of night. Behind them, a motley assortment of vehicles followed, their cargo of men and weapons following their leaders without hesitation. That some of those men . . . perhaps many of them . . . were going to die today was uppermost in the minds of both women, although neither voiced that thought aloud.

"I wonder what my father would think of all of this," Kefira finally said, when the first dim lights of Bangalore City came into view in the distance.

Jessie glanced over, watching her companion's face in the reflected light from the dashboard. "I think he would be proud of you for standing up to a tyrant and doing what was right."

"Would he? Lately, I have been wondering about that. Captain Gupta is right, you know. By the age-old traditions of Bangalore, I am unfit to be Hadji's wife. That role is one of nurturer . . . establishing a home that is restful and welcoming, providing and raising children . . . I don't -" She stared sightlessly out the front window, her expression both unsure and haunted. "My mother gave those things to my father . . . to all of us. I grew up in such an environment, so I have seen the way it is supposed to work. My mother was happy with this life. She never found the need to step outside the role that our culture set for her. And Daria . . . it was all she ever wanted, as Maia would have, given time to grow up a bit more. But me? The things I desire . . . that I have done . . . "

"Captain Gupta is an idiot," Jessie said bluntly. "Maybe, if your goals . . . yours and Hadji's, I mean . . . were to turn this country back to the 17th Century it might be different. But reality is reality, Kefira. This isn't the 17th Century. The time of feudal lords and slave populations is a thing of the past. Even the most benevolent of rulers will be unpopular if he attempts to enforce a way of life that doesn't allow for the people to participate and feel as though they gain something worthwhile for their labors. The world has grown too small. And simply because you are a woman doesn't automatically exempt you from the right to be all you can be." She grimaced slightly in the darkness. "Geeze, I sound like an Army recruiting poster. Look, do you understand what I'm trying to say? Yes, in many ways your father was a traditionalist. But he knew that the people had the right to better themselves if they could. He gave them every opportunity to that, didn't he?"

"Yes," Kefira agreed somewhat reluctantly. "But he operated within the framework of our culture. He did not attempt to destroy it . . ."

Jessie sighed. "You aren't trying to destroy your culture, Kefira. You're simply trying to do what you and Hadji feel is best for the people of Bangalore. Furthermore, your father died before he was faced with the choices you've had to make. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that his choices would have been different than yours if your positions had been reversed?"

"But as a man, he would have had the right to make those choices."

"So you're saying that because you got two X chromosomes instead of an X and a Y, that makes you unfit to use the brain god gave you? What, you think that the ability to make decisions that effect large numbers of people is genetically programmed into the male sex gene?"

For the first time, Kefira looked at her. "Of course not!"

"Then what the hell are you saying, because I really don't get it. You have the empathy for these people, you understand what needs to be done, you have the right to do it by virtue of your marriage to the hereditary ruler of the country . . . not to mention the fact that you were born here and are a citizen of this country . . . the people trust that you have their best interests at heart - which you do - and they are willing to follow you, and you have made great strides in ridding them of a tyrant who will do nothing but make their lives miserable. How can you possibly doubt that what you are doing is right?"

"But so many people have died. And more will do so today. Are you so certain my father would find that sacrifice worthwhile?"

Memories flared unexpectedly, and in that instant, Jessie once more stood in the vermin-infested dungeon of the castle on the high plateau. Around her, she could hear the cries of the dying and the stench threatened to overpower her. Blinking furiously, she forced that image back down into the recesses of her mind and drew a hard breath. "Yes," she replied hoarsely but with a conviction so sharp and violent that it caused Kefira to turn and stare at her. "Yes, he would consider it more than worthwhile . . . he would consider it an obligation."

"Jessie?" Kefira asked, shaken by her companion's thin lips, haunted eyes, and bloodless countenance. "Jessie, what is wrong?"

Jessie's voice was thin and brittle as she replied jerkily, "We end this now . . . before things get any worse." Downshifting sharply, she killed the headlights, applied the brakes and began to slow. "We'll stop here. There's still some cover for the trucks, but we're close enough so that an hour's walk will get us to the outskirts of the city."

"It will take another two hours from there to reach the palace," Kefira warned, with one final concerned look.

Jessie glanced at her watch. "It's only 3:30. We have time. Sunrise is a little after six, right?"

"Yes."

"That will put us well into the city before it gets light, and we should have daylight to locate the stuff we need. But we need to move quickly and quietly from here on."

Kefira nodded as she opened her door. "I will go back and get everyone ready while you take care of the missile launcher." And with that, she was gone, not even bothering to wait for a reply.

Jessie sat, silent and alone in the darkness for a few moments longer. The vision of what she had seen at the castle kept rising up to haunt her. Images of the twisted, abused bodies of prisoners alternated with the memory of the broken bodies of the soldiers they had found when they made their way back down to the plateau. And over it all was the memory of the smell . . . a combination of decaying flesh, burnt bodies, and explosives. She'd tried twice during the day to get some rest, but every time she fell asleep the memories returned, as vivid as if she still stood in the middle of it. Even though she knew that she couldn't afford the time, she sat and finally allowed the memories to fully surface once more. They washed over her like a tide, enveloping her until she felt as though she was drowning. Her body began to shake violently and tears poured down her face. The feelings evoked by those memories were so strong that it was all she could do not to vomit where she sat. After a time, the feelings began to recede, leaving her feeling weak and a bit light-headed. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, allowing her silent sobs to continue until they reached their natural end. When they had finally quieted, she sat up once more. Scrubbing at her face to dry her tears, she fumbled in the cab of the truck until she found an old rag that had been stuffed up under the seat. Blowing her nose on it resolutely, she took one final sniff and then squared her shoulders and shoved open the truck door. She had a job to do.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Jonny counted to ten after the first shots shattered the quiet night and then rose and sprinted down the hillside toward the palace wall. A rush of adrenaline drove him forward and behind him, he could hear the soft footfalls and quickened breathing of Mahavir. They reached the wall at almost the same instant and began to climb immediately. Any minute, Jonny expected to feel a bullet strike him in the back, but it didn't happen. In the distance, gunfire continued and off to their right, silhouetted by the lights that had been rigged around the postern door, he could see the guards returning fire. One man was frantically yelling into a small hand-held radio. During one of his rapid glances in that direction, Jonny saw the guard shake the radio sharply. Then the two of them reached the top of the wall. Clinging tenaciously by the fingertips of one hand, Jonny reached up and popped one corner of the decorative grate with the heel of his other hand. The grate spun free, rotating almost like a lazy susan in a cupboard. Grasping it frantically to keep it from falling into the darkness, Jonny dragged himself upward until he lay across the top of the wall on this belly. Carefully, he wedged the grate in place so it wouldn't get lost. It would be important that it be set back into place once everyone was over the wall and inside the palace. Then he wiggled forward until he could swing over into the darkness of the old palace.

He had intended to cling to the inside wall until everyone was in and then reset the grate before joining them on the floor. But the long days of constant stress, nervous tension, and little or no sleep finally caught up with him. As he slid over the wall, he lost his grip and fell, landing flat on his back on the tile floor about twelve feet below the window. His world exploded in a brilliant flash of white pain, and then there was nothing but blackness as he lost consciousness.

Above him, Mahavir hesitated. He had heard a frantic scrambling followed by a soft, startled exclamation of surprise and a dull thud just as he reached the top of the wall. Frozen there, he listened intently, but all he heard was the distant sounds of shouting and gunfire. Finally, he swung his legs over the wall and slid into the darkness of the old palace.

"Jonny?" he breathed softly, but received no reply. He peered over his shoulder into the darkness, but other than the gray outline formed by the window, he could see nothing but blackness. Remembering Jonny's instructions, he let go, dropping the remaining distance to the ground. He landed a bit unsteadily and when he took a half-step back to catch his balance, he stumbled into something on the floor. Dropping to his haunches he felt the obstacle and with a growing sense of dread, realized that it was the Sultan's brother. "Jonny!" he whispered urgently, grasping his shoulder and shaking it frantically, but there was no response.

Mahavir stood upright, thinking frantically. He knew the plan and could probably execute it except for one thing. There were only three people alive who knew how to get into the secret passageways from here and to get where they needed to be . . . and he definitely wasn't one of them. This would be their only chance. If they didn't get everyone inside and in place before the Sultana and her followers arrived, the full force of the remaining Janissary guard would be unleashed against them. From the sheltered vantage point atop the palace walls, the mercenaries could pick off the attacking forces at their leisure. This plan couldn't be allowed to fail!

Turning, he reached down and carefully dragged Jonny's motionless body out into the center of the room. Returning to the wall, he ran his hands over the surface. For all that it was old, it was still remarkably smooth and offered few handholds. Gathering himself, he bent his knees and launched himself upward, grasping frantically at the ledge. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't jump high enough to grab onto anything that would allow him to climb back up to the window. He was just about ready to go in search of something to stand on when the gray light at the top of the wall was broken by the silhouette of a head. A body quickly followed and a moment later the individual dropped to the floor.

"Jonny?" a voice breathed and with a shock Mahavir realized who it was.

"Excellency!"

"Mahavir? Where is my brother? What has happened?"

"He fell, Excellency. Without light I cannot tell how badly he is injured, but he is not awake."

Hadji uttered a soft curse word and then took a deep breath. Leaning his head back, he let out a long whinnying call, repeating it twice more before turning back to the waiting man. "That will bring the others. Stay here and make certain everyone gets in safely and that the grate is put back into place. I will move into an inner room and see what I can do for my brother."

"Yes, Excellency."

"We are bringing everyone in over the wall. The diversionary attack is almost over and it will be too late to use it as a way of getting the back door open. Those that cannot make the climb have been sent to await my wife's arrival. My mother is among them, as is your uncle, who I instructed to guard my mother. They will see that my wife knows what we have planned." Above them, the gray light was broken by the arrival of the first of the men. "Now, where is my brother?"

"Straight ahead of you about ten paces, Excellency. I could do little more than drag him away from the wall so no one would land on him." Hadji nodded, even though he knew Mahavir couldn't see him and advanced slowly until his foot struck something soft. Leaning down, he fumbled his way up to Jonny's head. Laying his fingers against the artery in Jonny's neck, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. The pulse was slow and steady. Hadji carefully explored Jonny's head and found a good-size knot on the back of his skull, however there did not appear to be any blood and he could find no soft spots that would indicate a skull fracture. Finally, Hadji decided that he would have to take the risk of moving him. Standing, he reached down and grabbed Jonny's arm in preparation of hoisting him up onto his shoulders, when a hand stopped him.

"You cannot lift him without further injuring yourself, Excellency," a soft voice breathed in his ear. "I will take him." Hadji turned and saw Thakur standing at his shoulder.

"How did you know -" Only then did Hadji realize that there was now a dim light suffusing the room. Looking around, he saw that better than two-thirds of the men were now over the wall and standing around the room, while still others were coming over in a steady stream. Two of the men had flashlights, which they were using to provide a small amount of light. The beams were muffled by pieces of cloth, but the illumination they cast was sufficient without being bright enough to attract attention.

There was quiet laughter in Thakur's voice as he reached down and picked Jonny up without apparent effort. "I have come to know you, Excellency. Nothing could ever cause you to leave him behind." He gestured back toward the window where Mahavir was balancing precariously on the shoulders of another man as he fit the grate back into place. "I believe it is time to leave this place, Excellency, if you can show us the way.

Hadji took a deep breath, cast a final look at Jonny, and then gestured to the waiting men. "This way."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


They entered the city about an hour before dawn. Jessie scattered the men into small groups and sent them in from all directions, instructing them to avoid the main roads in case they were being watched. Everyone was to remain out of sight as much as possible, or to mingle unobtrusively with the local residents. Strike leaders were designated and directed to meet with Jessie and Kefira at the warehouse where Hemant had met with Jonny and Hadji an hour after dawn. The boy had been put in charge of describing its location to the men and ensuring they knew how to get there. The remaining men were directed to make their way to the palace and to await their strike leaders at predetermined locations in the surrounding area. Once the leaders joined them, they would get their final instructions.

Then, using the cover of darkness, Kefira, Jessie, and a small group of guards entered the city and made their way to the warehouse. In those early hours before dawn, nothing seemed to be stirring and they made the journey without mishap. They had been there no more than fifteen minutes when the strike leaders began to arrive. The meeting with quick and once everyone was clear on the plans, Jessie directed them to begin making their way to the palace and to prepare their men for the coming attack. After giving it some thought, Jessie also broke the missile launcher down, giving the various pieces to different strike leaders. As she explained, it was less conspicuous that way, and, should she be taken by the enemy, it would prevent their adversaries from being able to use their advanced weaponry against them.

During the meeting in the warehouse, Jessie tried to convince Kefira to go with one of the teams and to await her arrival, but she flatly refused. Stating that she intended to follow Jessie wherever she went, Kefira sent all but the same six guards who had followed her faithfully since her arrival in Bangalore on to the Palace.

"You are a real pain in the butt sometimes, you know that?" Jessie grouched as they watched the last of their fighting force fade into the crowds that were beginning to fill the streets.

"I sent you into the lion's den alone once before and almost lost you there. I told you I would not do so again, and I meant it. Both of us will go or neither will. The choice is yours." Jessie opened her mouth to argue, but Kefira cut her off before she could say a word. "And do not start again about how I am too valuable to risk. I do not wish to hear it."

"But -"

"No!"

Jessie sighed and gave up. She had learned to recognize Kefira's stubborn streak when she saw it, and it was in full operation at the moment. "Now that it's daylight, we need something to put on over our clothes. We're too conspicuous." She grinned at Kefira, trying to be certain the other women knew that she wasn't angry.

Kefira smiled and then looked thoughtful, scrutinizing her surroundings., "Perhaps we can find two burkas. There are Muslims in Bangalore and because the country remained regressive for so long, traditional garb isn't unusual."

"You're kidding. Deepak and Vikram never struck me as the religiously tolerant types."

"It made no difference to them," Kefira replied with a shrug. "Hindus . . . Muslims . . . Jews . . . Christians . . . as long as they contributed to the palace coffers and worked like slaves, religious differences were ignored."

"Big of them."

Kefira snorted derisively. "This warehouse has been used as a dwelling in the past and much has been left behind. Let us see what we can find."

In the end, it was Hemant that found the garments and brought them to Jessie and Kefira. When he held it out to her, Jessie glared at it in horror, wrinkling her nose at the smell that wafted from the dusty fabric. "You have to be joking!" she protested.

"Be certain not to look directly at anyone, and keep your hands in your sleeves," Kefira directed with a grin. "Your green eyes and fair skin mark you as a foreigner . . . a point we do not need called to anyone's attention right now." Jessie uttered a rude sound but took it reluctantly.

Before they were able to do anything else, however, a sound from an unseen door in the dim recesses at the back of the warehouse sent all of them for cover. Miming her instructions to two of the guards, Jessie sent then around toward the back of the building, directing them to come up behind whoever had just entered. Then she moved forward cautiously, pulling her Glock out of its shoulder holster, releasing the safeties, and holding it at ready. Before she had the need to use it, however, the two guards pounced on the newcomer. The man fought like a caged tiger, and before it was all over, two of the guardsmen had been slashed by the knife the stranger carried. It was Jessie that ended the struggle. Taking a long wooden pole that had been used to create a canvas wall for one of the abandoned dwellings inside the warehouse, she struck him sharply across the shoulders, then swept his feet out from under him and dropped to pin him to the floor with the pole braced firmly against his throat.

"Enough!" she said harshly in Hindi. She watched as the man's eyes widened in disbelief and then suddenly narrowed. His struggles stilled and he wheezed slightly as he attempted to speak. Easing up on the pole slightly, she demanded, "Who are you?"

"You are not the Sultana!" he said in heavily accented English.

"No," she agreed and then increased the pressure against his throat once more. "You did not answer my question."

The man paled slightly. "Simul, Lady," he replied in a hoarse whisper.

"And what are you doing here, Simul?" Jessie prompted when he offered nothing else.

The man licked his lips, his eyes darting around frantically, as though searching for a way out. Reluctantly, he replied, "I - I was sent, Lady?"

"Sent by whom? And for what purpose?"

Again his eyes darted, seemingly searching for something. Again, Jessie pressed down slightly on the pole. "A message, Lady!" he replied frantically and she eased up again. "I was sent with a message."

"A message for whom?"

"T-The Sultana."

"And who sent you?" Jessie would have pressed him again as Simul hesitated, but a new voice interrupted.

"Answer her question," Kefira ordered in a firm tone, stepping forward so she was in the man's line of sight. His eyes widened again and he gasped softly. "Who sent you to me?" Simul began to struggle again, attempting to push Jessie out of the way. When she would have stopped him, Kefira reached down and touched her shoulder. "Let him up, sister."

Jessie rose fluidly and moved to stand beside Kefira as several of the uninjured guards moved in to flank the newcomer. Staggering to his feet, the man bowed deeply. "Excellency! A thousand apologies. I did not realize that these people . . ."

"Simply answer the question," she snapped sharply. "Who sent you?"

"Vijay Patel, Lady. He is a close friend of your -"

"I am well aware of who Mr. Patel is. You say he sent me a message. What is it?"

"He fears for your safety, Excellency. He has men and arms that can assure your well-being and he wishes me to take you to them."

"And where are these men?"

Simul gestured vaguely toward the south. "Outside the city, Excellency."

Kefira frowned. "Mr. Patel knows that I will not run and hide from this fight, particularly when I have word from my husband that I am to join him."

The man sighed. "Please, Excellency. Mr. Patel is concerned enough about the Sultan's insistence on risking himself. To have both of you in the path of danger is not good. He begs you to follow me to safety."

"There's some sense in the idea, Kefira," Jessie said unexpectedly. "Putting both of you in the same place at a time like this is risking a lot."

"I cannot help that," Kefira said with a frown at the other woman. "I am here to find my husband, and that is what I shall do. I refuse to run and hide."

Jessie sighed. "All right. I didn't figure you'd go along with it." She looked at the man and shrugged. "C'est la vie, Simul. She's stubborn about stuff like this."

"But -"

Suddenly, a guard called out in a low voice, "Others come!" Once again, everyone scurried for cover. The newcomers entered the warehouse cautiously, scanning the interior with a wariness that set Jessie's internal radar jangling. Just as she was about to motion for the guardsmen to move, Hemant suddenly jumped up with a joyful call.

"Nilesh!"

One of the younger newcomers spun, bringing a rifle to bear on the boy. But the minute he got a look at him, the gun fell and a wide smile spread across his face.

"You have come back! I told the Sultan that you would. Have you brought his lady with you?"

Hemant immediately turned to Jessie, who waved to Kefira to remain where she was and then stepped out into the open again. "Lady, this is Nilesh. He was among those with the Sultan and your Lord when I was here earlier."

"Jessie."

The voice was soft and familiar, and Jessie turned toward it, knowing even before she spotted the speaker who it was. She held her hands out in welcome as she crossed the open space rapidly. "Neela, I'm so glad to see that you're safe!" They met in the center of the warehouse, the older woman sweeping Jessie up in her arms and hugging her tightly.

After a moment, Neela released her and stepped back, touching her face softly. "It is good to see you again, Jessie. I could only wish it was under better circumstances."

Jessie grimaced slightly. "Tell me about it."

Neela squeezed her arm gently and then looked around. "Where is my new daughter? She is with you, is she not?"

Kefira moved out into the open as Jessie stepped back. For a long instant, the two women stared at each other wordlessly. Then Neela held out her arms and Kefira crossed to her swiftly. The two stood silently for a long time, simply clinging to each other as those around them watched respectfully. It was Neela who finally broke the silence.

"I am so sorry about your parents, child. They were good people."

Neela felt an uncontrollable shudder pass through the young woman before Kefira stepped back and took a deep breath. "Thank you. It eases my heart to know how loved both of them were." Then she looked straight into Neela's eyes and asked, "Where is Hadji? How is he?"

Neela glanced around the huge building and then looked at Kefira and Jessie again. "Is there somewhere we can talk? We need to review our plans and prepare for what is to come."

Jessie turned to Hemant. "Is there anywhere here that we can go that will give us some privacy?"

"Yes, Lady. There is a room. I will show you."

Jessie bowed slightly to Neela and Kefira. "Hemant will lead you to a place."

"But -" Kefira started to protest, but Jessie shook her head.

"Go on. I'll be with you in a minute. There's one other thing I need to do first."

The two women turned and followed Hemant away as Jessie turned to one of her guardsmen. "You - with me." Then she turned to Nilesh. "Who leads your group?"

"I do," a voice to her right replied and a middle-aged individual stepped out from amid the men who had arrived with Neela. "Vijay Patel."

Jessie nodded. "I've heard Hadji speak of you." She gestured at him to follow and then led the two men away so that they were out of earshot of the others. She lowered her voice and said, "Mr. Patel, I don't have a lot of time to explain right now, but I need to know if you are aware of a satellite uplink station that the Janissaries might have been maintaining in the city."

Vijay look started, but then nodded quickly. "Yes," he replied in a low tone. "There is one just outside of the palace."

"How heavily is it guarded?"

"I do not know. Before you and Ms. Sub-, - ah - the Sultana arrived, they kept no more than one or two guards near it. But the security all around the palace has increased dramatically since the Janissaries have begun to suffer defeats at the hands of your forces. I cannot say how closely guarded it will be now."

Jessie frowned, chewing at her lower lip thoughtfully. Then, as if coming to a decision, she looked up at the guardsman. "We're going to give it a try. I want you to select nine men . . . at least one should know the location of this place and have some chance of being able to operate the equipment. Do you think you can find someone who can do that?" The man nodded sharply.

"I have seen one among the Lady Neela's men who would have the knowledge."

"Good. When you get there, take the place and secure it, but be as quiet about it as you can." Reaching into a nearby bag, she extracted a small radio similar to the one she had used to pass her message on to Jon and Hadji. "Once you have control of it, you are to take cover inside and stay out of sight. It's important that no one from the palace realizes you are there. When we're ready, Mr. McCaffrey will signal you with this, and you are to activate the uplink so that he can broadcast. Then you are all to leave. Don't try to hold it. Can you do that?"

The man bowed deeply. "It will be as you order, Lady. I swear it."

"Good man. Go." Turning back to Vijay, she demanded, "Jon and Hadji . . . are they both all right?"

Vijay watched the guardsman hurry away with a look of surprise. "I did not expect him to take orders from you so readily."

"You'd be surprised. Jon and Hadji?"

"Both were well enough when we separated. The Sultan had been injured in an earlier incident, but his brother attended to him and he seemed to be recovering well. As for Mr. Quest, he had not been injured, but I was beginning to be a bit concerned. He has been spearheading much of what we have accomplished, and he never seemed to rest. He was looking very tired the last time I saw him."

Jessie exhaled sharply in exasperation. "That sounds like him. Damn. I want this over. Get your men ready to move, Mr. Patel. I'm going to find Neela and Kefira." Spinning on her heel without waiting for him to answer, she called out to Hemant and walked away with a determined stride.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Neela hesitated, torn between the order given to her by Hadji's new wife and her desire to know what Jessie Bannon was planning. Over the course of the last month, her life had changed drastically, and she was finding herself more and more lost. She had a desperate desire to reach out and grab at anything that felt familiar. Turning reluctantly to follow Kefira, she was suddenly struck by the way the people treated the young woman. There was a reverence in their attitude and a strong sense of awe that she had rarely felt from them of late. No one tried to impede her progress, but in the course of following Hemant across the room, she stopped several times. The boy almost seemed to expect this and kept the pace slow and stopped willingly to wait whenever Kefira deviated from the path he set. It was as if Kefira could sense the need of certain people to speak with her, and unerringly stopped, even though they made no attempt to attract her attention. Neela could see her tension and weariness in the way she carried herself and in the set of her shoulders, and yet her smile was always ready and those around her responded to it immediately.

For a brief instant, jealousy flared in Neela. There was a time when the people of Bangalore had treated her in this fashion. But as quickly at the feeling had flared, it died, to be replaced by a deep-seated weariness. It had been a long time now since the people had treated her in this way. It had happened slowly, going first from reverence to cool tolerance and finally to thinly-veiled distrust and dislike. Most still obeyed her, albeit reluctantly, but she knew they did so only because she was Hadji's mother. The rapport she used to share with the people of Bangalore was gone . . . destroyed by her long-time support of a man who had turned out to be a tyrant who was no better than Deepak or Vikram.

I no longer have a place here, she realized as she watched the new Sultana interacting with her people. She shivered slightly and wondered just exactly what that meant.

Ahead of them, Hemant stopped and opened a door, gesturing respectfully to the younger woman to enter. Kefira strode into the room without hesitation and a moment later, Neela followed her through the door. Turning to their guide, Kefira smiled.

"My thanks, Hemant. This will do well."

The boy bowed. "Do you require anything else, Excellency?"

"No, this is fine."

"Then I shall return to my lady and aid her as I may."

Kefira's smile changed to an obvious grin. "Move carefully, my young friend. Your competition for her affections is formidable."

The boy sighed sadly. "I know my place, Excellency. I have met my lady's betrothed. He is a strong and honorable man . . . well-suited to be husband to her. I would never attempt to interfere."

Kefira's smile turned sympathetic. "You are right, Hemant. They are well-paired. Take comfort in knowing that they care for each other deeply and he has, and always will, put her safety and well-being first in all things. And do not worry. I have no doubt that the day will come when you will find one that you may share an equal rapport with."

"Perhaps," the boy replied gravely, "but none will ever be like the Lady Jessica."

"I am sure you are right," Kefira replied with equal gravity. "Please find my sister and ask her to attend me as quickly as she can."

Hemant bowed respectfully once more and then disappeared. When Kefira turned back to her companion, she found Neela smiling slightly. "He sets his sights very high. How old is he?"

"Twelve or thirteen, as I recall. He does not love her . . . not really. I believe it is more hero worship than anything else."

"Perhaps, but it is certain that he will never forget her."

Kefira laughed. "I do not believe anyone who has ever met my sister readily forgets her."

Neela looked at her speculatively, surprised at her reference to Jessie Bannon. For a moment, she considered asking her new daughter if the wedding ceremony that bound this young woman to her son had actually been a double ceremony. After a moment, she decided that this probably wasn't the time to ask that particular question. "I suspect you are correct," she replied noncommittally. Then her smile faded. "How are you, child?"

Kefira's eyes fell and she shifted uneasily. Gesturing toward the pallet on the floor nearby, she replied evasively, "I am afraid the accommodations are not very good, but if you would like to -"

"I am well aware of the accommodations," Neela replied, interrupting her. "I have been here quite recently." She stopped forward boldly and caught Kefira's chin in a gentle grip, forcing her to look up at her. "You did not answer my question."

Kefira shrugged, pulling away. "I am uninjured. My sister has seen to that."

"Saying you are uninjured does not mean you are unhurt. You have been separated from your husband, your family has been destroyed, and you have had to face an adversary who slaughters without so much as a second thought. There is no shame in admitting that it has effected you."

"Of course it has effected me!" Kefira snapped, turning from the older woman and beginning to pace angrily. "How could anyone remained unmoved by all I have seen? Or the things I have been forced to order done? But what would you have me do? Fall on my knees and wail to the heavens at the injustice of it all? What good would that do? No. I have a job to do, and that is all that I can allow to matter." Glaring fiercely at the older woman, she demanded, "So I ask you again . . . where is my husband?"

"And his brother," Jessie added, stepping into the room and pulling the door closed behind her. "What has happened since they arrived here and what exactly do they have planned?"

Neela's expression had remained calm during Kefira's tirade, but now it changed. Weariness gripped her and her shoulders slumped in dejection. Turning, she walked to the nearby pallet and seated herself, gesturing for the two young women to join her. Both hesitated fractionally, but finally sat on the floor nearby. "He is in the palace." She gestured reassuringly at their sudden tension. "No prisoners. They entered secretly under cover of darkness with about 30 men. If all has proceeded according to plan, they should be in position and ready to strike at your signal." Neela went on to describe the events of the preceding days and Jon's plan for striking from within and without at the same time. "Their primary goal is to take both Arun Birla and the Captain of the Janissary guard as swiftly as they can. They hope that by capturing these two men, they will remove the driving force behind the troops and the fighting will cease."

Jessie signed and rubbed her eyes wearily. "I hope they're right. The Janissaries have a reputation for being ruthless and next to unstoppable. Taking their leader may not be sufficient."

Neela spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I do not see that we have any other choice. My biggest concern is that they will get trapped inside the palace facing a much stronger force with no means of retreat. Jonny is convinced that the Janissary's numbers cannot be that great, and that much of their dominance is due to fear and high visibility."

"Maybe," Jessie replied with a frown, "but I suspect that if there is a concentration of them anywhere, it's going to be in the palace itself. You can also bet that they've kept the best of their fighters there, too."

"So what do we do?" Kefira demanded.

Jessie thought for a moment and then shrugged. "The only thing we can . . . continue as planned, hit them hard and fast, and make straight for Birla. The sooner we join forces, the better off we'll all be."

Kefira glanced at her watch. "It is 7:45. If we are to strike at 9:00, we must move soon."

"Everything's ready to go," Jessie replied, rising to her feet. "It think you're right. It's time we are on our way." She glanced at Neela. "It might be better if you stayed -"

"No," Neela replied flatly, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "It is my son, my people, and my fight. I have the right to be there."

Jessie looked at Kefira. "Sultana? It is your choice to make."

The two women eyed each other silently for a long moment. Then Kefira rose. "She had earned the right to choose her battles. If she wishes to see this out to the bitter end, I will not order her to say behind."

Neela rose as well. "You know that I would not remain behind. Were you to order me to do so, I would follow anyway once you were gone."

A hint of a smile played around Kefira's lips. "I suspected as much." She held out her hand to the older woman. "I would welcome your company and your council . . . Mother."

Tears glimmered in Neela's eyes as she reached out and grasped the offered hand firmly. "Then let us go and put an end to our enemies once and for all."

Shoulder-to-shoulder, they turned to face Jessie. "We are ready, sister."

Jessie smiled. "Then let's do it." Leading the way back out into the main part of the warehouse, she called everyone together. "It's time," she told the assembled men. "I know that many of you are new to our group, having been with the Sultan's forces earlier. Those of you who wish to join us are welcome to do so, but no one will fault you if you choose to return to your families. I would ask that any who want to join the Sultana remain here. Anyone else may leave now." The silence seemed almost uncanny, and no one moved. After a moment, Jessie nodded. "Fair enough." She gestured to one of the guardsmen who stood nearby. "This man will assign each of you to a fighting group and see that you get to them when we arrive at the strike location. I am not going to outline what we have planned . . . there is no time. Just follow the orders of your assigned group leaders. Questions?"

"What of the Sultan?" a voice from the back called.

"He is free and we got to meet him now."

"Who leads us into battle?" a different voice piped up.

"I do."

"A woman?" The reply was derisive and disbelieving.

"She leads by my order," Kefira cut in swiftly.

"And leads us well," someone from the center of the crowd called out, causing a ripple of assent to run through the crowd.

"If you don't like it, then leave!" another added stridently.

"Enough!" Kefira called out, stepping forward. "We have no time for this. My sister leads us as she has done from the beginning. Follow your assigned leaders, and soon you may salute your Sultan once more." Turning, she gestured as Jessie. "Sister, we are yours to command."

With a succinct nod, Jessie turned to the man who had been put in charge of the newcomers. "Get your men. Mr. Patel, I ask that you join the Sultana, the Regent and I. Let's go."