Chapter Fifty-one


Jonny woke slowly, aware only of a throbbing in his skull that made him wish he could sink back into peaceful oblivion. But an urgency he couldn't quite place drove him forcefully back toward wakefulness and he finally relented, opening his eyes cautiously. The light sent a sharp stabbing pain through his already aching skill, causing him to moan softly and attempt to roll away from the source.

"He wakes!" a voice called. The sound seemed to come from a great distance and he turned his head toward it carefully, trying to focus on the speaker. The movement turned him toward the light again and he squinted against the stab of pain it engendered. Almost immediately the light was moved away as someone knelt beside him.

"Jonny, can you hear me?"

Jonny's mind searched sluggishly to place the voice, recognizing it as familiar. Finally, a name came.

"Hadji?" he asked hoarsely, attempting to sit up. A firm hand pressed him back down onto the rough bedding.

"Yes. Do not attempt to sit up. How do you feel?"

"Head hurts."

"I do not doubt it. How is your stomach? Are you nauseated?"

Jonny thought about that for a minute. "No," he finally replied.

"Can you see me clearly?"

"No. It's too dark."

Hadji gestured to someone in the shadows and slowly the light grew brighter again. It was a warm golden glow that flickered slightly, and its light illuminated stone, dust, and the silhouette of his brother. "Better? Can you see me now?"

"Yes."

"Is your vision blurry?"

"No." The reply was substantially stronger this time as the cobwebs in Jonny's mind rapidly cleared. Shoving Hadji's hands aside, he sat up carefully and peered into the surrounding shadows. "I'm okay. What happened?"

"You fell," Mahavir explained, setting the oil lamp in the niche near the pallet once more, and then knelt down next to Hadji.

Rubbing his head gingerly, Jonny muttered to himself in disgust. "Stupid, Quest. Blow the whole plan, why don't you? How long was I out? Did everyone make it in okay? What's happening now?"

Hadji gestured, attempting to stop the flood of questions. "One at a time, Jonny. Yes, everyone made it safely inside. We had to change the strategy a little, but everyone got in safely and without being seen. All but a handful of men are in their designated locations awaiting the signal to strike, however we still have a bit of time. Hold still. I wish to check your head."

Hadji's probing fingers caused Jonny to wince noticeably as they moved over the sensitive spot where his skull had connected with the tile floor. "Hey! That hurts!"

"You are lucky that you have such a hard head," Hadji observed dryly. "There does not appear to be any permanent damage, but I want you to be careful for a time. I would be much happier if we had a doctor who could examine you."

Jonny shook his head and immediately regretted the action as the world around him rocked unsteadily. "I'm okay," he repeated grimly. Shoving Hadji's restraining hands away, he used the wall to help himself rise to his feet. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Several hours," Mahavir replied. "We were beginning to become concerned."

"What time is it now?"

Hadji stood hastily and grabbed for Jonny's arm as he swayed unsteadily. "A little before 8:00. I wish you would sit down again. You should not be up yet."

"I told you . . . I'm fine," Jonny said impatiently. "Where are we with the attack?"

Hadji sighed in resignation, knowing there was no stopping him now that he was awake. "Everyone is in place," he repeated, "and they know what to do. I just hope you are right about being able to recognize Jessie's signal."

"Do we know where Birla is?"

Hadji and Mahavir exchanged a look and then Hadji replied reluctantly, "Yes, but there is a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"It appears that he has become extremely wary since our last attack on the palace. He no longer trusts any of the palace offices, including the ones my mother and I used to use, suspecting they are being monitored. With his own office and quarters destroyed, he was forced to find a new location to serve as a center of command."

"Yeah . . . so?"

"He selected the reception area of the throne room."

Jonny frowned at the two. "But that's a good thing, right? There is easy access to that area through the passageways. We can be on top of them before they even know we're there."

Hadji shook his head. "No longer. Your attack on the throne room may not have succeeded in stopping Mr. Birla himself, but it did obliterate the room and most of its contents. We are lucky that the walls of the palace are so thick and well constructed. The stone contained the blast so not a great deal else was damaged. It was the same with the corridor charges."

"Hadji, you're stalling. Get to the point."

"None of the bombs broke down the walls between the rooms and the secret passages. They are still undiscovered and secure, so we did not meet with any resistance within the corridors. However . . ."

"HADJI! Just TELL ME!"

Hadji sighed heavily. "However, the ceilings of the passageways around the throne room and its reception area collapsed. We cannot reach any of the access panels in that area."

A sense of dread filled Jonny. "How close can we get?"

"The nearest accessible panel is into an antechamber that is being closely watched. And the chamber is a good 600 meters up a heavily guarded corridor. To get out into an area where we will not be observed means exiting very near the formal ballroom . . ."

"Which is in an entirely different wing from the throne room," Jonny finished for him.

Hadji nodded. "Yes. If we are to take their stronghold here in the palace by force, we will have to fight for every meter of ground we gain. Also, you were correct in your assessment of Mr. Birla's reaction to the increasing pressure put on him by both us and Jessie and Kefira. He has become extremely paranoid and all of the regular personnel have been locked in the dungeon so we can expect no help from those already within the palace. It is totally controlled by the Janissaries and a small contingent of men from the old, corrupt families . . . including the Rafiq family."

Something in Hadji's tone caused Jonny to stare at him sharply. "Is there some significance to that?"

"Yes. Those that follow Birla have abandoned their homes and come to the palace en mass, probably driven out by the people who worked their lands. That means women and children are here, as well."

"Yeah?"

"So Kefira's eldest sister married the only direct-line blood son of the head of the Rafiq family. Daria is somewhere in the complex of rooms near Birla's command area. I have no doubt of it."

"Son of a bitch!" Jonny snarled. "Things just keep getting better and better. On top of everything else, now we have to get Kefira's sister out of there."

"Yes. And I have no idea how we are going to do that."

"Excellency . . ."

Hadji glanced over at Mahavir. "What?"

The young man shifted uneasily, but held his ground, staring back at them resolutely. "Daria Rafiq is not our concern and you must not try to make her one."

"Of course she is our concern! Mr. Patel, she is my wife's sister!"

Mahavir shook his head sharply. "No. You must not think of her in this fashion. Now she is of the Rafiq family and one of our enemies. She holds neither obligation nor loyalty to your wife any longer." Seeing the expression of outrage on both young men's faces, he pushed on forcefully before either could interrupt. "If you had been raised here, Excellency, you would understand. You assume that all women support your attempts to break down the old ways and give them more freedom. Most do, but not all women are badly treated under the established system, and there are a great many of them who find comfort and security its rigidity. It defines their world, makes clear what is expected of them, and gives them purpose. Because of this, they do not object to living within its confines. Daria Rafiq is one such person. I can say this with absolute surety because I have known her and her family since I was a small child. She never wanted anything more than to be married and live a traditional life. She has been very vocal in her support of her new family and campaigns incessantly among the other wives in support of Arun Birla and his decision to uphold the old ways. I promise you that Mr. Birla's recent setbacks will not have changed her attitude. If you attempt to remove her from her new family and return her to your wife's side, you will put the Sultana in serious jeopardy."

"She is still my wife's sister. Marrying into the Rafiq family did not change that. With the rest of their family dead, I cannot leave her among my enemies where she risks being hurt or killed. Every effort must be made to free her."

"But Excellency, she is not a prisoner!"

"Enough, Mr. Patel! I will hear no more about it."

"Please, Excellency," Mahavir begged desperately. "At least allow your wife to know what you plan before you attempt anything."

"What will be, will be, Mr. Patel. If the opportunity presents itself, I will not hesitate. Now go and join the others. My brother and I will be with you shortly."

Mahavir turned to Jonny, the appeal clear, but Jonny just shook his head. "I gotta agree with Hadji on this one, Mahavir. We can't leave her with them. Trust me, she'll be glad enough to be out of that den of vipers once we get her in the clear. Now go on." Finally, Mahavir's shoulders slumped and he gave up. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the nearby corridor. Jonny just shook his head. "Boy, he must really dislike her."

"Daria is easy to dislike," Hadji replied dryly. "You will understand once you have met her. Are you sure you are well enough for this?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. The headache's even starting to go away. Don't worry about it. Were you able to figure out who the newcomers were?"

Hadji shook his head. "No. They were well into Birla's "safe zone" before we got into the main portion of the palace. We have overhead guards talking among themselves, and we were correct that they were expected, but none of the men seemed to know them or why they were here, either."

Jonny sighed. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough. Come on, let's go. It won't be long now and I want to scope out the terrain before we have to fight to take it."

"Now that is a cheerful thought," Hadji said grimly as the two of them set off into the dark passageways, heading to meet their destiny.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"Sir, we have the guards from the postern door reporting that they have a man demanding to see Mr. Birla." The field commander turned to the leader of the Janissaries, awaiting his orders.

The man lounged back in his chair lazily, thinking about that bit of news. "Who is this man?"

"His name is Naik. He claims to have worked for you in Panjal Province."

A slow, unpleasant smile lit the Captain's face. "Ah yes, Mr. Naik. I wondered what had become of him." Raising his voice, he called out across the room, "Excellency!"

Birla looked up in irritation at the curt summons and gave the Janissary Captain a fierce glare. Then he returned to what he had been doing. The Captain chuckled and glanced off-handedly at the Commander, who was still standing next to the radio. "He believes that he can ignore me."

"Perhaps he feels that his position as the client earns him certain rights . . . like courtesy."

"What, Commander? Are you saying that you like the man?"

"No!" the Commander replied with profound distaste, "but it is not necessary for us to like a client . . . only to treat him with professionalism, and that includes respect for his position."

The Captain snorted. "Treat that one with respect, Commander, and eventually you will lose your head. The only way to control one such as Birla is to keep them in fear of you. Furthermore, there is respect due me as well, and I will not tolerate his attitude."

As the Captain yelled for Birla again, the Commander turned away in disgust. Respect is earned, not granted by a title, he thought sourly to himself and wondered for about the hundredth time which of the two men he hated more. Unbidden, the image of the young woman with the red hair rose again. "Tell me, Commander, how much longer will you continue to follow orders that promote the decay of your very soul?" A shiver ran down his spine and he wondered again how a complete stranger could have read his heart so accurately. He couldn't seem to get the woman out of his thoughts. That she was a stunning beauty was without question. Certainly, he had had his share of women in his time, but he never remembered a time when one had struck at him the way this one had. With hair was like the flames from the encampment fire at the end of a long day and grace without equal, she had moved out of the smoke on the field of battle that morning like some long-forgotten vision of a goddess of war. And unlike any woman he had ever met, she had stood up to him, verbalizing the very questions that had been eating him alive for a long time now. She had treated he and his men with respect and honor, something that he had learned the hard way not to expect from anyone . . . not even his own people. But she did not command . . . at least, not in the ultimate sense. She commanded field troops by the order of another woman . . . Sultana Singh. He remembered walking among the people the two women commanded. That they hated him and his men was obvious. And yet their reverence for Sultana Singh was such that no one even tried to lash out at them. In a quiet voice she had told her people that they would be allowed to pass, and they had been. A few had even offered what care they could to the injured. Surreptitiously, he glanced sidewise at Birla who had finally replied to the Captain's summons. A woman of honor, harassed and hunted by a power-hungry tyrant with no honor at all. Indeed, how much longer could he live under such conditions?

A soldier follows orders, he told himself grimly. To defy those who hold the right to your allegiance is also a form of dishonor, and you have never been dishonorable in your life. Do as you are ordered and know that sooner or later, this one will fall.

"Tell the guards to let him pass," Birla said to the Commander curtly, his expression sour. "What does he want, anyway? Opening any of the doors to the palace just now is unsafe."

"I am told that he would not say why he wished to speak with you. Only that he had something that he knew you would want."

Birla growled softly in disgust. "The man is a lazy nuisance . . . hardly worth the trouble."

"I disagree," the Captain responded. "He proved to be highly effective in keeping Rajeev Subramanian occupied. That one would have caused you a great deal more trouble had not Naik ensured that he had other, more vital issues to concentrate on. Furthermore, he shows initiative." The Captain snorted in disgust. "A great deal more than his dimwitted cousin, certainly."

Birla shrugged. "Every family has at least one that has no ambition . . . even one as old and respectable as the Rafiq family. I am aware that Subir has been a disappointment to his father, but what can you do? He is the only son."

"He would do well to embrace his sister's son and forget about his own. That man could make their fortunes."

Birla eyed the Janissary Captain coldly. "Obviously, you do not understand our customs. He can no more embrace his sister's son than you can."

The Captain laughed outright. "He can do anything he likes if he sets his mind to it. And he'd do well to do it, too . . . before his entire family collapses from dimwittedness."

Approaching footsteps caused the two men to stop needling each other and turn toward the large archway on the other side of the room. The field commander eyed the newcomers warily when he appeared in the doorway. Of medium height with dark eyes and black hair, he appeared to appeared very ordinary. But a second, closer examination detected a stubborn set to his mouth that spoke of a sour temperament, and his eyes darted around the room restlessly. The Commander was immediately wary. He had never seen the man before, but what he saw now he didn't like at all. After a cursory glance around the room, the man advanced toward Birla. It was only then that the Commander observed that the man wasn't alone. Stumbling along behind him was another individual, obviously a captive. A filthy blanket had been thrown over the individual's head and then bound in place tightly with a rope, which was then being used like a leash to drag the prisoner along behind. The captive was obviously bound underneath the blanket, as well, and the combination obviously made motion extremely difficult. Just inside the doorway the captive stumbled and fell. Naik snapped sharply in Hindi and jerked on the rope viciously, but his captive was unable to rise again. With a curse, he kicked the bound figure until it no longer moved, and then began dragging his burden across the floor with no regard to what injury he might cause. Finally he came to a stop in front of Birla and bowed deeply.

"Excellency, I bid you good day. I am glad to be safely within the palace and to see you again."

"What is it you want, Naik? I am busy and have no time for your sniveling platitudes."

"Why, to bring you a gift, Excellency . . . one I believe you will appreciate and put to good use."

Birla's lip curled. "What use do I have for some starving peasant? It smells like a goat. Get it away!"

"Are you certain, Excellency? This is a particularly significant peasant. Here, allow me to show you."

Bending down, he took a knife and sliced through the rope that bound the blanket to his captive. Then, with a sharp yank, he pulled the blanket off and straightened once more. "I believe, Excellency, that you offered a reward to anyone who could deliver one of the royal family into your hands?" Using one foot, he rolled his semi-conscious prisoner over where Birla could get a good look. "So I give you Lady Neela Singh, mother of the Sultan."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"Gone! What do you mean, gone???" They were less than a mile from the palace now and had taken refuge in the deserted courtyard of an abandoned house when one of the guardsmen had come running up with the breathless news that Neela Singh was nowhere to be found.

The man facing Jessie and Kefira gazed at them miserably as he shifted from one foot to the other. "I - I cannot explain it, Excellency," he said in a desperate tone. "We were passing the bazaar, and - and - it is - everything was fine. No one appeared to be paying any particular attention to us. I glanced back to be certain that the Regent was not falling behind again and she was right there. I turned back to scan the street and then when I turned around again a moment later, she was just gone. I searched, Excellency. I swear that I did. But I could not find her anywhere!"

"I do not believe this!" Kefira exclaimed in agitation.

Laying a calming hand on her shoulder, Jessie asked quietly, "You said you checked to see if she had fallen behind 'again'. Had someone been slowing her down?"

The man shook his head sharply. "No, Lady. If it had appeared that someone was attempting to separate us, I would have called for you. No, she kept stopping. She would see someone who appeared injured or upset and she could not seem to pass them by. I tried to explain to her that she had to keep up with the others - that she was endangering herself by doing this - and she would apologize and for a while, things would be fine. But then something would catch at her and she would stop again . . ."

"You should have had someone stay with her," Kefira snapped, her distress making her short-tempered and angry.

"There was someone with her," the man replied with equal distress. "Mr. Patel's man was in line behind her. I even warned him to see that she did not tarry and get separated from the rest us."

"What man?" Vijay demanded, his head whipping around to stare that the rattled guardsman.

"The man you sent to the Sultana . . . to guide her to you. When he offered, I thought . . . as he was one of yours and you had trusted him as a messenger to the Sultana . . ." The man trailed off at Vijay's blank gaze.

Both Jessie and Kefira looked questioningly at Vijay, who just shook his head. "I sent no one to the Sultana. Who was this man?"

"I have no idea," Jessie replied, frowning. "As the guard said . . . he appeared just before you did. Said he had been sent by you to guide Kefira out of the city and to safety. At the time, I thought it was a little strange because we'd already confirmed with Hadji that we were on the way, but his argument about Kefira's safety made sense and once you showed up, I didn't give it any further thought. When I looked for him again, he'd disappeared and I assumed he rejoined the rest of your men."

"I sent no one," Vijay repeated. Looking around at the men that encircled them, he asked, "Did anyone know him?"

Hesitantly, Hemant spoke up. "I did not know him, Mr. Patel . . . not to know his name, but I do know that he worked at Mr. Subramanian's mine. I had seen him there."

Kefira shook her head. "No. I know all of the men that worked the family mines, and I had never seen him before."

"He was new, Excellency," Hemant replied respectfully. "Hired after you left for America. He worked as the main gate guard at the new mine your father acquired from the Rafiq family."

"Describe him!" Vijay demanded.

"About five foot eight, straight black hair that was long and rather shaggy, dark eyes, and close-set ears," Jessie replied promptly. "He tended to slouch and when he stood, he leaned slightly to the left because he stood with most of his weight on that leg. He had a barely visible, crescent-shaped scar on his chin and another on the outside corner of his left eye. He'd had an acne problem when he was younger and it had left his skin rough and pitted, although I suspect he might also have suffered from small pox or a severe case of chicken pox as a young child because he showed a little bit of similar scarring on his arms and legs, too. He'd also had pierced ears once upon a time, but had let them grow closed." She closed her eyes, calling up the image she had of the man. "He fights, probably a lot, because his hands are all marked up, particularly across his knuckles. He was barefoot when he came to us, but he's not accustomed to going around that way because his feet didn't have the calluses that come from going around barefooted on a regular basis." She glanced at Kefira and shrugged at the woman's astonished expression. "I noticed blood on the floor where he'd been standing. You want more?"

"No," Vijay said grimly. "I believe that is enough. Did he give you any sort of name?"

"Simul was all he said."

Vijay uttered an oath in Hindi that made even Jessie blink. "Simul Naik. Believe me, he was no man of mine. I would never have him."

"Who is he?" Kefira demanded.

"A member of the Rafiq family by default . . . son of Subir Rafiq's aunt - his father's sister. She had defied custom and run away with a local man without family or providence. He was killed a few years later, and with nowhere else to go, the woman returned to her father, bringing a son with her. The Rafiq family took the boy in and raised him."

"And Mr. Rafiq's sister?" Jessie asked.

Vijay's gaze fell. "She . . ." He trailed off at her look and then sighed. "She had shamed her family and they would not have her back. She died some months later."

"How?" Kefira demanded, her expression grim.

"Of starvation."

"Geezus!" Jessie exclaimed, horrified, but when she looked around she saw only acceptance. "That's barbaric!"

Hastily, Vijay returned to the earlier topic before the conversation could continue, "I had heard that he had gone to work for your father, Excellency, and had warned Rajeev about him, however your father would only say that Subir had vouched for him and that he was not in a position to refuse him work."

"You think he has taken Neela?" Jessie asked.

"I would not put it past him if he thought there was a profit to be made."

"Profit? What profit can he possibly think to gain by taking the Regent?" Kefira demanded incredulously. "Surely he realizes that Hadji will have his head!"

Vijay hesitated and then shrugged at her outraged look. "Unfortunately, a good deal of profit, Excellency. Mr. Birla has put a bounty on the heads of all of the royal family . . . including you. A man could become extremely wealthy by bringing any one of you to him."

"That's it!" Jessie said decisively. "We're out of time." She looked at her watch and then gestured to a man standing nearby. "You're on, Mr. McCaffrey." She tossed him a small radio. "You understand what you have to do?"

The man's grin was feral. "Yes. Don't worry. I'll get the news out."

"Just remember, you won't have very long. The men I sent to that receiver aren't going to try to hold it. It would be suicide. So you'll only have as long as it takes Birla's Janissary Captain to realize we've commandeered his receiver and send someone to take it back."

"It'll be long enough."

"Good. Then get started." As McCaffrey moved off, she turned to the boy at her left. "Hemant, I need to see -" She broke off as he turned and dragged a box out from behind a large planter full of flowers sitting at the edge of the patio. Jessie immediately recognized various pieces of the missile launcher. "What the -"

The boy interrupted her. "I knew you would need it, Lady. So while you attended to other things, I went to the various leaders and collected the pieces for you."

Jessie shook her head as she counted the pieces in the box. Every one was there. Straightening, she looked at the boy seriously. "Hemant, I am pleased by your initiative, but this was a very dangerous thing to do. What would have happened if a member of the Janissaries or someone loyal to Mr. Birla had stopped you on the street while you were carrying one of these parts?"

Hemant shrugged. "People do not look at children, Lady. Usually, we are either ignored or kicked out of the way. There was much less risk for me to do this thing than for you to try to go to the various leaders yourself or to have them come to you. I am sorry if my actions have angered you."

"What's done is done," she replied with a sigh and then patted him on the shoulder. "And it was well done, my friend. I just ask that you never do such a thing again . . . at least, not without asking me first."

Hemant bowed his head respectfully. "It shall be as you command, Lady." But no one in the circle around the two missed the boy's delighted grin at Jessie's praise.

"Jessica!" McCaffrey called from across the courtyard. "Your man at the receiver is good. He managed to get me a clear, unmonitored phone connection to our Indian affiliate, who patched me through directly to New York. I'm on a 10 minute count to a special broadcast. They're even going to feed it to all of the other networks worldwide at the same time. We should get saturation airtime all over the world. And because the setup was on a private, encrypted signal, our enemies shouldn't have a clue of what's coming. We've bought ourselves extra airtime. I'm going to broadcast from right in front of the palace, so I'm heading out now to get into place."

"Peter, wait! It's too dangerous . . . you'll be a sitting duck!"

McCaffrey grinned. "Maybe, but they'll find that I don't make an easy target. This isn't the first time I've broadcast from a warzone. Furthermore, we want the world to see what the Sultan and his wife are up against. Don't worry. This will work. Pulitzer Prize-winning stuff, I promise you. I'll see you at the front gates." And with a final wave, he disappeared, taking his hastily assigned cameraman with him.

Jessie spun, gesturing to the men who were closing in around her as she reached down and began reassembling the missile launcher. "I want the forward team to go now. Provide as much cover fire for Mr. McCaffrey as you can when he starts to broadcast, but don't forget that your primary objective will be the men on the wall of the palace. The start of your assault will be the trigger to bring the rest of our forces out of their assigned places. Be sure you secure the avenue and plaza in front of the gate into the palace. The Sultana and I will be no more than five minutes behind you. When the front wall of the palace comes down, we hit hard and fast. No quarter is to be given to any soldier you face. Do not think they will give you any, because they will not. These men have been trained to win and they are led by a man with no honor, so they will stop at nothing."

Her gaze was hard as she scanned the intent faces around her. "You have all heard the reports that our enemy has been consolidating those loyal to him within the walls of the palace. That means that there may be women and children inside. We do not slaughter the innocent, no matter who they owe allegiance to. However . . ." Here she paused and stared at each man individually, trying by the strength of her own will to impress on them the importance of her next words. "However, anyone who raises a weapon against you . . . man, woman or child . . . is your enemy and must be treated as such. I will not lose men because of an idea that a woman or a child is not as capable of killing as a man. Is that clear?"

Many of them shifted uneasily, but one by one they all nodded their understanding. Straightening abruptly, she snapped the carry strap onto the reassembled missile launcher and slung it across her back, anchoring it securely with the waist strap. "Then it's time we get this over with. Go with God, my friends. May he smile upon us and what we try to do today."

With a respectful bow, the men turned and faded quickly out of the building, leaving only about ten men behind. Jessie gazed at them in confusion. "You should go with -"

But one of them stepped forward, shaking his head. "No, Lady. It was agreed." He gestured at the remaining men. "We are your personal guard . . . yours and the Sultana's. It is our job to see that the two of you remain safe. No one will touch either of you while any of us live."

When Jessie would have protested, Vijay laid a hand on her shoulder. "There is much wisdom in this, Lady. These men follow you. We lose the war if we lose either of you. Allow them the honor of this service."

Jessie and Kefira's gaze locked and after a moment, Kefira shrugged. "I doubt they would accept 'no' anyway, sister. In this case, it is probably better to relent with grace." Finally, Jessie nodded.

Vijay gestured to one of the men. "Check the street. We do not wish to be caught unaware coming out of this house. There has been enough coming and going that it is possible our enemy is alerted." The man nodded and silently moved to the door that led out of the courtyard. For a long moment, he searched the scene before him. At any other time, the streets would be alive with cars, beast of burden, and people. But the fighting had driven most to seek shelter. Those who could afford to do so had left the city, hoping to find safety in the open countryside. Those who could not, barricaded themselves within their homes and waited to see who would win the struggle for dominance of their country. Today the street was empty, it's silence seeming ominous in the bright morning sunshine. Occasionally, the sound of fighting and distant gunfire could be heard, but after a time the silence would descend once more and the sense of waiting would return. Finally, the man turned and nodded.

Vijay turned and bowed to the two women. "We ask that you stay together. These men will surround you on all sides. They will shield you from unseen gunmen and will serve as a wedge if crowd impede your progress. When we reach the palace, you need only say the word and they will give way so that you may lead the strike against our enemies." At a single gesture, the men fell in surrounding the two women. With Vijay in the lead, they left the courtyard and headed for the final confrontation at the palace.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"We can't do it," Jonny said flatly. His voice was low, but carried absolute conviction. "They've got that corridor too well covered. It would be suicide."

"But we cannot stop now!" Hadji protested.

"I didn't say stop. I just said that our original plan of hitting them head-on isn't going to work. We're going to have to try something else."

"What?"

Jonny shrugged. "I see two possibilities. Their current position has both pluses and minuses. On the plus side, it's got long, clear corridors with good visibility and little or no cover. It's also easily defendable and their positioning ensures that no one can come at them from behind. But on the down side, there's only one way in or out. Pin them down and we can starve them out."

"That will take a long time," Hadji said in dissatisfaction.

"True. The other choice is to post men to keep them pinned down in their bolt hole, and then take the rest of our men and hit the guards at the front of the palace from behind as they try to hold against Jessie and Kefira's assault. That plan has the advantage of increasing our fighting force and, hopefully, netting us some weapons that will make taking the rest of the palace easier."

"It will also allow us to unite with Jessie and Kefira so that we can fight together."

Jonny's grin was clearly visible in the light from the muffled flashlight one of the men held. "There is that."

"Then that is what we shall do," Hadji said decisively.

"Good enough," Jonny agreed. "Mahavir, you said you know the palace."

"Yes."

"Then you've got the job of seeing that our friends outside the throne room stay put. Take what men you need and get going. Just don't let them break free and come at us from behind because we won't have anywhere to bolt to. The passageways in that area have been destroyed, too."

"They will not get past us," Mahavir replied grimly. "I will take the men who are watching the corridors already and leave all of the others for you." At Jonny's nod of agreement, he reached out and caught Jonny's forearm in a strong grip. "Good luck, my friend. I will see you very soon."

"We'll be there. Just hang on until we can join you." Mahavir nodded, and then left at a run.

Turning back to Hadji, he checked his watch. "It's 8:50. We need to get out of these passageways so we're ready when things start to happen."

"We must hurry if we are to get to the front wall before they strike," Hadji said in a low, breathless voice as they moved quickly into the passageways again.

Jonny shook his head. "No. We were told to stay clear of the front of the palace, remember? I still don't know what Jess has planned and until we do, we're going to wait well back. As soon as she makes her opening strike, we can move in and back it up. Our main objective will be to find the weak point in the line against them and break it so they have a clear avenue into the palace. Agreed?"

Hadji nodded and then moved to the head of the column of men. "Follow me. I know the perfect place." Hadji led them swiftly through the passages, picking up other groups of men along the way as word passed about the change of plans. Finally, he waved everyone to a stop and motioned them to silence. Then he slid an eavesdropping panel aside and scanned the room on the other side. Finally, he whispered, "Stay here," and before anyone could stop him, he triggered the secret door and slid out into the room. It was a bedroom, an elaborate one, with huge tapestries hanging on the walls, a series of divans for seating, and a huge platform bed swathed in netting and drapes standing in the middle of the room. Moving around the bed, he crossed the room, and disappeared through the door on the far side of the room. In the passageways, Jonny uttered a soft oath and reached for the release mechanism to the hidden panel, but a hand stopped him.

"Wait," one of the men with him breathed softly. "Look."

Hadji had reappeared once more. Closing the door behind him, he gestured at them to join him. Releasing an exasperated breath, Jonny triggered the panel and slipping out into the room, closely followed by the others.

"Warn me the next time you plan on disappearing, will ya?" he hissed at his brother. "You about gave me heart failure." He glanced around him. "Where are we?"

"In the guest wing," Hadji replied in a low but clearly audible tone. "There is no sign of anyone in the vicinity."

"If Birla's brought all of his supporters -" Jonny began in alarm, but Hadji shook his head.

"They will not be using these chambers. They are too far away from him. These people may say they are loyal, but Mr. Birla will not trust them out of his sight for long. With all of the normal inhabitants of the palace held in the dungeons, there are a host of other living quarters closer to the throne room where he can put those people and be able to keep an eye on them. These chambers are the ones used for visiting dignitaries and other important people and are closer to the main gate." A soft smile flickered across this face. "This is the chamber that Kefira and her family were staying in when I first met her."

Jonny grinned at him. "Which means there's a long hallway outside with a blind corner not far from this room, right?" Hadji nodded and both young men laughed softly as if at some private joke.

"This is as safe a place to wait as any other, but we are close enough to the front entrance to the palace to be able to get there quickly once Jessie makes her move."

Jonny checked his watch again. "Which should be just about any time now," he replied and rotated the watch face so Hadji could see it just as the digital readout changed to read 9:00 a.m.

For the space of two heartbeats, they all waited in tense silence, unsure what to expect. Suddenly, the stones under their feet heaved and the sound of a tremendous explosion reached them. Several of the men were thrown to the floor as the others staggered desperately trying to keep their feet. Cries of fear and astonishment echoed through the room as Hadji and Jonny stared at each other in stunned amazement.

"What has she done?" Hadji yelled at his brother.

"It sounds like she -" But before he could finish, they all heard a distinctive whine and then the world erupted for a second time.

"Holy shit, she's got a missile launcher!" Jonny yelled over the sounds of the explosions and falling stone. "She's taking down the front walls of the palace!" And with that, he was gone, running full-tilt for the ruins of the front of the Royal Palace of Bangalore.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"Stop them!" the Janissary Captain screamed into a hand-held radio. "I don't care if you have to destroy the equipment, just stop that transmission!" Behind him, Birla and a crowd of others stood frozen, watching the report being broadcast from their front doorstep.

"I warned you," the Commander said to his leader. "She is here, and she brings her Sultana with her. If you are wise, you will -"

"That is Kefira!" a woman's voice suddenly shrilled, as Birla snarled wordlessly.

The men spun, and spotted two women standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the center of the chaos displayed on the television screen. They were dressed identically in pure black and their expressions caused that superstitious thrill to run through the Commander once more, just as it had the first time he had seen this pair. They looked like vengeance personified. As they moved forward, their escort melting from around them, the morning sun caught the pendant that hung openly around the Indian's woman's neck and the gem in it flashed blood red. A gasp ran through the assembled throng and someone cried out, "The Heart of Bangalore . . . it is the Sultana!"

The Captain lifted his radio again, thumbed a button and yelled, "All men on the forward battlements, you are to eliminate the two women. Do it NOW before they -"

But even as he spoke, the redhead said something to the Sultana who replied and gestured toward the palace. In a single, fluid movement, the first woman swung something from its position across her back and brought it to her shoulder. As she pulled the trigger, the Commander said emotionlessly once more, "I warned you," and an instant later the palace shook with the force of the first hit.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"It's time we move inside!" Jessie yelled, waving at the men around her. "Watch your backs. We're going to meet resistance, so use whatever cover you can find. Remember, our goals are to locate the Sultan and to find and take Birla and the leader of the Janissaries. Follow me!" The missile launcher was once again strapped across her back and with a burst of covering fire, she leaped up and sprinted toward the rubble that marked the front of the palace. A spattering of return fire greeted her advance, but none of it came close. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her troops surge forward, following her lead and on her right she could hear rapid breathing that marked someone close on her heels. Glancing back, she saw that regardless of her orders, Kefira had followed her.

"Damn it, Kefira! I told you to hang back until we have entry secured!" she panted, throwing another burst of fire toward one of the sources targeting her.

"No," was Kefira's only reply as she fired at a man who stood and was taking aim at Jessie. Suddenly, return fire intensified as a new group of mercenaries appeared from a corridor that was now visible through the rubble. Both women hastily dove for cover and before long an intense firefight was underway. After a short stalemate, a group of men on Jessie's right let out a bloodcurdling yell and surged forward in an unplanned attempt to overwhelm the resistance. Their fellows immediately tried to lay down covering fire, but the mercenaries were now dug in behind good cover and they exacted a terrible toll before the men were forced to fall back again, unable to penetrate the defensive wall.

"What do we do now?" Kefira yelled over the cacophony around her.

"The only thing we can," Jessie screamed back. "Keep hitting them until we break through!"

"What about using the grenades and explosives?"

"That stuff is still under cover with the rear lines. Furthermore, we'll need it once we're inside."

"The missile launcher again?"

"No. We're too close. And the remaining shells are with the grenades. I could only carry two of them. We're going to have to do it the hard way."

Twisting around, she pointed off to her left and gestured. She followed that with a series of similar gestures at other groups of men around her. Finally, she raised her hand, one finger pointing skyward, and waved it in a circle above her head, finishing the gesture by folding her fingers into a tight fist and jerking her arm downward in a pre-arranged signal. Immediately, the first group burst from cover, sprinting for a pile of header stones that had fallen in the initial assault while behind them, another group stood and sent a hail of bullets into the hidden defenses inside the palace. The instant the first group reached cover, another group stood and began firing as their counterparts surged forward past Jessie and Kefira, reloading as they ran. In this fashion, the assault force leapfrogged closer and closer to the entrance of the palace.

Jessie and Kefira kept pace with the advance, watching their goal closely and coordinating their assault. With each foot of ground they gained, they lost men, but none of those remaining faltered. Jessie was just about to order the final charge to the entrance when she saw one of the mercenaries stand and complete a movement she knew well.

"GRENADE!" she screamed and dived away, shoving Kefira in the opposite direction as the man lobbed the explosive directly toward their hiding place. The instant she came out into the open, bullets began striking all around her. Without a second thought, she opened up with her automatic rifle and ran toward the opening, screaming like a banshee.

"Jessie!!!!" Kefira cried and then followed her, firing wildly. The sight of their leaders' forward charge triggered the rest of their men to follow. Jessie and Kefira were within ten feet of the shattered entrance when three men rose up and took pointblank aim at them. The two of them tried to bring their guns up to defend themselves, but it was too late. The men smiled nastily and then both women registered the sound of gunshots. The five of them stood frozen, staring at each other until, one at a time, the three men fell face-first onto the floor.

"Are you crazy?" a voice screamed over the sounds of the fighting, and suddenly a young, black-hair man in Indian garb appeared in the shattered entryway. "Don't just stand there. You're going to get shot!"

Jessie blinked at the sound of the beloved voice. "Jonny?" Her eyes locked with the sapphire blue ones of the man standing in front of her and suddenly she screamed, "JONNY!!!!!!!" With a wild leap, she crossed the remaining distance, landing on the tile right next to him. As her feet touched the floor, bullets zinged off of the wall around her and the two of them dove for cover. She landed on her belly and slid awkwardly across the tile until she came to a stop against a set of legs. She looked up and her gaze locked with Hadji's just as Kefira came careening through the gap in the wall.

"Jessie, they are being cut down out there! We have to do something!"

Jessie scrambled on hands and knees across the floor to where the Janissary guard lay unmoving. Grabbing him by the jacket, she turned him over and searched frantically until, with a grunt of satisfaction, she found what she was looking for. Coming to her feet, she ran back to the breech in the front wall. Leaning out, she whistled sharply and gestured for her forces to take cover. The men responded immediately as she lobbed the grenade she had taken from their adversary into a nearby alcove that was serving as cover for six Janissary soldiers who were systematically picking off her men with automatic weapons fire.

"Front three groups to me!" she yelled at them when the noise of the explosion had died away. "The rest of you, provide them with cover fire. Move it, move it, move it!!!" Before long, men were streaming in through the shattered opening, as first one group after another worked their way across the open space to enter the palace. Jessie kept up a steady barrage of cover fire from just inside the doorway as Kefira kept the new arrivals moving to ensure that a traffic jam didn't develop that would leave their men stranded out in the open and vulnerable. Jessie was also dimly aware of both Jonny and Hadji shouting orders from somewhere behind her as another phalanx of men began spreading out along the inner corridors of the demolished front of the palace. A number of her own men followed them and soon she heard gunfire to her left and right within the building as their forces hunted down and stilled the remaining resistance.

And suddenly, . . . it seemed almost without warning . . . it was over. No more gunfire. No more yells of defiance. No more calls to fight. Only the sounds of falling stone, the harsh panting of winded men, and the cries of the wounded. As the adrenalin in her system peaked and began to drain away, Jessie moved to stand in the opening to the outside world and looked back on the way they had come. She stared for a long time at the carnage that spread out before her, her surroundings strangely muted and her mind numb. Abruptly, she began to shake and her gun fell from nerveless fingers to clatter loudly in the unnatural silence. So many dead . . . and it was only the first battle in their fight to retake the palace. Then she was grabbed and strong arms enveloped her, pulling her into a warm embrace as he whispered her name in a choked voice "Jonny," was all she had time for before his mouth locked onto hers in a kiss that obliterated everything else around her.

As the realization of the cessation of the fighting hit Kefira, she turned to look around her. Most of the men were gone now, having moved into the nearby corridors to take up defensive positions and to begin the systematic room-to-room searches that would ferret out their enemies. Then she spotted Jonny and Jessie. Locked together, they clung to each other as if they would never let go. She started toward them, looking everywhere for some sign of Hadji. She had just about reached them when he appeared at the head of a corridor that led straight back into the heart of the palace. They stared at each other across the dirt and rock strewn floor, neither seeming to be able to move or speak.

Finally, Hadji swallowed, and said hoarsely, "I am . . . sorry . . . so sorry."

She took a hesitant step toward him, unsure of the expression on his face or what he meant. "Sorry for what?" she asked as she carefully moved another step toward him. For some reason, she knew with a certainty so deep it terrified her, that if she moved too quickly or said the wrong thing, he would run from her. And if he did that . . . then she might never get him back. He shook his head wordlessly and retreated a step. She moved forward again. "Sorry for what, husband?"

He raised a hand as if to ward off a blow, and replied, "Sorry . . . for it all. I never should have . . . you could be killed . . ."

"As could you."

"I have no choice. It is my responsibility."

"As it is mine."

"No," he replied in a stronger voice and retreated again. "The price is too high. I cannot continue to be the cause . . ."

"You are not the cause of anything," she replied, following him step for step. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jonny and Jessie turn, the tableau playing out now finally catching their attention. She saw Jessie lay a hand on Jonny's arm and shake her head, preventing him from interfering. "And only I can be the judge of whether the price I pay is too high to bear."

"Kefira, your family is dead! Your parents, your brothers and sister . . . your home is burned to the ground and there is nothing left! All of that is because of me! And now you return only to be asked to wage a war and watch people you care about die all around you. I cannot believe that you do not see that this is too much for me to ask of you!" Around them, men began appearing once again, returning to report on their progress and to receive further instruction. All of them froze, maintained a breathless silence as the two young people faced each other across twenty feet of open space that might as well have been infinity.

Kefira stopped and stared at him, pain and anguish welling up in spite of her struggle to keep her composure. Finally, she gestured helplessly and asked in a choked voice, "So what would you have me do, husband? Where would you have me go?"

"Somewhere safe! Away from all of this!"

Tears fell unchecked now, but with her last ounce of strength, she bowed to him. "Then it shall be as you command, Excellency." Reaching up, she caught the ruby pendant and removed it from around her neck. Bending down, she laid it gently at her feet. Then she removed the wedding band from her finger and laid it along side. Straightening, she silently bowed once more and then turned and walked toward the shattered opening.

Hadji's face was contorted in agony as he watched her go, but he made no move to stop her. Staring incredulously at his brother, Jonny pulled out of Jessie's grasp and reached out to grasp her arm as she passed him.

"Kefira, don't -"

She looked at him and he shuddered at what he saw. Tears still streamed down her face, but her eyes were dull and lifeless, her expression blank. "I have no choice," she replied tonelessly, cutting him off. "He has renounced me."

"He's an idiot! It's a guilt thing . . . you know that. Give him some time."

She shook her head. "Time is not mine to give. He is my Sultan and I am honor-bound to do as he commands." Her eyes shifted and she stared at Jessie. For an instant something moved deep in her eyes that made the hair on the back of Jessie's neck stand straight up. "And my father raised us all to know and abide by what is honorable."

Jessie gasped as if she had been struck. "NO!" she screamed and lunged at the other woman, but with a quick movement, Kefira dodged her and was gone. For an instant, Jessie thought to follow, but then stopped and whirled back to Hadji, her shock rapidly transforming into desperation. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?" she said to him in a voice that shook noticeably.

Hadji swallowed hard but finally managed to reply. "I have freed her from this insanity. She will never have to watch people she cares about being slaughtered again."

"Freed her? My God, Hadji, haven't you listened to anything she's told you about this place? She's honorable - from an honorable family! Don't you understand what that means???"

Jonny reached out and grasped her arm. "Jess, it's his choice. Even if we don't agree -"

She threw off his hand and then took a deep breath. Turning, she pinned Vijay Patel with a piercing stare. "Mr. Patel, Rajeev Subramanian was an honorable man?"

"Yes," he replied heavily. "None more so."

"In all respects?"

"Yes."

"And he raised his children to know and do the honorable thing according to the laws and traditions of this country, correct??"

"Yes."

"And what does an honorable woman do when she is renounced by her husband?" Vijay closed his eyes, as if by doing so, he could shut out the world and the need to reply to that question. When he didn't immediately respond, Jessie demanded, "Answer me, Mr. Patel."

"She . . . ensures . . . that her failure does not stain the honor of the others in her family or her family's memory," he replied with difficulty.

"And how does she do that?" Jessie came back ruthlessly.

Suddenly, Hadji paled sharply as he realized the point Jessie was trying to make. "No!" he whispered in desperate denial as Vijay replied in a voice filled with pain.

"She dies."